#151 Lawlight

A little late to the trend, but who does my MC look best with? I have a fav but we shall see who she is destined for.

Random thoughts on Nanami Kento :

This perfect husband material is nothing but respectful, careful and soft with you . Waking up you get a kiss “ good morning “ in the morning voice making you wet in an instant.

Going out for the office “ bye love “ again a kiss on the forehead and lips (might be steamy but mostly he has good control )

Little texts whenever he is free “ How are you feeling ?” are you alright, ate lunch ?” 

“Gojo is getting on my nerves i need someone to hold me back from killing him  “ and more. 

If you come home later than him you are always welcomed with the lovely smell of home cooked lavish meal “Welcome love freshen up let's eat “ his face stoic but adored with a little smile which you know is only for you!

If he comes later than you you welcome him with the same, if cooking is not your strong point it ends with both of you cooking dinner together (mostly he does you are an assistant ). 

After dinner, it is always with you both enjoying your alone time with TV or a nice cup of hot milk and conversations about your day. Or there are times he comes homes all pent up and fucks you the moment his eyes see you. 

Loves cafe dates with you day or night not matter if he can have you dress up and come out, loves seeing you getting ready and has amazing taste in clothing. (his tie is just for fun he did not wear it in his office )

The gentleman who is known till 9 pm vanishes and is replaced with a monster who is a pathetic beggar for your pussy “ pleasee let me eat you out pleaseee” his fox eyes pleading with you holding your legs apart. 

His tongue is so skilled he makes sure every night you come at least twice or thrice on it before he fucks you with his cock . 

His strong arms hold you down while he fucks you in missionary slowly but can go fast on your command. His moments are ruled by your words “Tell me princess what should I do “ he asks panting drilling his cock deep into your cunt as your cry out telling him to make a mess out of you. 

Never says no to any kink open to all, being the simple man he is he does not have many kinks ….STOPP. 

This man is a walking sex symbol, soo into BDSM, having you tied, whipping you you name it it's in his kink book he is not a  simple man and open to all, he is just so much more kinker than you, you kinks are little request to him . 

He can fuck you anywhere and everywhere, always takes consent and role plays with him are soo good, teacher-student, master-slave you name it its done princess~

After fucking the life out of you or slow sensational love making the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “ you okay ? “ “ need anything ? “ . Again your words are his command bath, done warm with bath bombs, and water, ready, want to just sleep, no worries he has a cloth next to the nightstand wipes you a little and holds you close in his arms watching your face relax as you fall into a deep slumber “ thank you and love you “ he mumbles kissing your eyes he might fall asleep looking at you or if there is work he has to do its done now . 

His worry that you would worry if he would come home or not every day kills him yet he tries to be on time , messages you if he cannot come always keeps in touch with you and loves you just for the mere fact you love a man like him who might die anytime any day, you are his light source in his dark monotonous life.

(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

next (wip) >

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.

Zayne’s load size tier list

I wasn’t expecting my next tier list to be this but I couldn’t stop thinking about Foreseer so here we are

Contains: This is a tier list about cum. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Actually, everyone just look away tbh no one needs to read this ahdkshskdg

S Tier

Foreseer. He’s been frozen on his throne for most of his life, waiting to impart his prophecies to those who come to him once every hundred years. Even when he’s awake for these moments, the thought of sex never crosses his mind. So when MC comes to the tower and makes him feel all these new feelings he’s never felt before, all that cum in his balls waiting millennia to burst out finally has a chance to make an appearance

And my boy’s packing a LOADED WEAPON

Foreseer is a fucking fountain of cum. Powerful streams of yearning, aching, finally bursting free

This man isn’t just S Tier. He’s an S+++ Tier cum machine

A Tier

Dawnbreaker. He’s always thinking about his dream girl, whether he’s awake or asleep. He’s seen the way the doctor’s hands caress her skin, heard the way her breath hitches, seen the way her mouth hangs open when she’s taking his cock so desperately. Those dreams give him all the motivation he needs to milk his own cock night after night. He doesn’t need anything extra. Just the thought of her is enough to make him cum over and over again

The tank is never empty when he’s yearning so desperately for someone that it feels like his heart has a gaping hole in it and he’s bleeding out

It makes him feel connected to her, to have the warm feeling of dopamine and oxytocin flood his brain and make him feel like a part of her is with him. He’s desperate to feel her, to get close to her, to express his love to her… but he’ll have to settle for being alone with just his memories of her

B Tier

I’d consider this a normal level, one where they’re more… emotionally stable lol

Doctor Zayne. He’s definitely kept busy by MC’s needs. They may have busy schedules, but they plan their dates and end up having sex in regular intervals, meaning he’d be able to release regularly. His body would produce a fair bit, enough to satisfy MC when she gets frisky. And girl knows she wants what she wants. Overall, Zayne would have a healthy sex life with a healthy amount of cum

Master of Fate. He’s had wild nights with some priestesses in the past and that would’ve put him into A Tier, but by the time he meets MC, he’s calmed down and matured. He doesn’t want women as offerings to him anymore. He wants a true lover

And he loves MC in a similar way as the doctor does. His love is sensual, appreciative, generous. He makes sure his lover is well-sated before he focuses on his own desire. He isn’t in a rush to reach his climax. He’s had centuries of countless climaxes already. His main focus is to make MC feel good

I changed my L&DS VA language to Korean bcs i was curious and Caleb’s voice sounds so familiar. He sounds like MM’s 707 and when I googled for his Korean VA, apparently the guy who voiced 707 voiced Caleb too 😳

Also, I love how MC calls Zayne “oppa” in Korean. It’s cute 🥺 And he calls Caleb “oppa” too!

Choso is 100% a chubby girl fan. I feel like this man is completely BAFFLED at the fact that some men don't like plump women?? Are they stupid??? Why would someone dislike a woman having curves and a soft body???

Choso loves to just let his hands slide down your plush frame, kissing your neck and groping your ass and plump tummy while he whispers how adorable he finds you and that when you get home, he's gonna make sure you know that♡♡

Choso is a strong dude, I mean look at him!!!! When you say you're embarrassed of your weight and get nervous about him picking you up, this man just lifts you up like you weigh NOTHING, leaving you amazed and also horny asf.....

Choso who loves to put you in a full nelson, watching the way your tummy rolls up and your thighs squish together while he holds you up and pummels your pussy♡ he absolutely ADORES his sweet princess, and loves her sweet plushy body!! ♡♡♡

(wrote this for comfort bc as a thick girl it's ROUGH OUT HERE 😭)

Girl, I Do This Often

Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.

Word count. 5.2k

A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days

On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.

A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”

By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute. 

He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”

Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-

That was until the fourth day. 

With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.

“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”

And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.

So close. So big.

Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.

But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs. 

“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”

And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could. 

“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”

“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know. 

And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you. 

“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”

If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.”  Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”

And oh has it really been that long?

Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously. 

“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”

You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”

“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”

Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some. 

Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-

“Right here.”

It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?” 

“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week

A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.

One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did. 

By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh! 

One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing. 

Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”

That was a few hours ago. 

Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.

Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind. 

“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”

At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”

Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.

And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard. 

Smack!

“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”

Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”

And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully. 

“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”

And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.

“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”

Smack! 

“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”

You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.

You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami. 

Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside. 

“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen. 

The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him. 

And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds. 

“See? Enough space, no?”

You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban. 

How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.

Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote. 

“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”

You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”

Intensity setting 2.

But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”

“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”

Intensity setting 3. 

But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too. 

Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself. 

“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”

You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”

Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth. 

Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again. 

Intensity setting 4. 

“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly. 

“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?” 

Intensity setting 5. 

And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.

“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties. 

So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.

“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”

“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours

If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint. 

But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully. 

So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-

Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.

Fuck it.

“Sh-shit, Choso I-” 

“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth,  tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”

And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.

Over and over and-

“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”

“So?”

And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.

“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”

Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.

“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”

The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot. 

Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”

He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.” 

And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way. 

Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-

No. 

You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”

And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully. 

It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his. 

It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place. 

Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”

“Cho-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days

The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small. 

Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.

And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never. 

“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”

And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole. 

You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”

“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”

Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.

“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”

And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump! 

Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”

“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”

“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”

It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice. 

So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose. 

“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”

And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-

Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?” 

And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-

“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin. 

Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours

To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him

It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.

Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.  

Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-

And that was when he felt it. 

That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you. 

It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-

“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”

He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”

Oh? 

And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom. 

“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”

“The meeting isn’t here now, right?” 

Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.

And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.

“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.

“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”

Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste. 

Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”

And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls. 

Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”

“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”

God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving. 

Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself. 

You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.

“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”

Going faster. 

Deeper. 

You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”

But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.

Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”. 

So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-

“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”

A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).

Plagiarism not authorized.

y/n tying kyojuro's hair

In High Cotton || Rafayel (m)

Paring(s); LADS Rafayel x reader

Word count; 3,626

Themes; swearing, smut, plushie turning human (??), I write the word plushie a lot (I'm sorry), porn with a smidgen of plot, alternative universe

Warnings; Cunnilingus, fingering, slight choking, smidge of hair pulling, some degrading (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), some boob play, (do not expect a masterpiece of a smut— I didn't realize how rusty I was at writing them until I actually started 😞)

Notes; woah, 700ish notes on my most recent drabble! That's insane tbh. It almost feels like I should only write drabbles, and it wasn't even a smutty drabble either 🤔 I thought people were usually into smut?

Either way, I'm glad yall are liking it while I readjust myself to writing smut once again! I used to write smut SO much when I was younger and then I just stopped– but when I do write it again, it might have too much detail and I do apologize beforehand for that...speaking of, it's happening now btw! I'm going to try to write good smut for this. I got this idea for a short, one-shot hentai-ish Manga (it's called…”my plushie turned into a human” or something like that)

Also, lowkey, cotton doesn't even feel like a real word anymore 😭

|| Main Masterlist ||

In High Cotton;

//this Southern idiom means “to be doing well or living a comfortable life”; in comparison, to be ‘in low cotton’ would mean you're having a bad day//

“What are you, a child? Stop carrying around that stupid plushie! It feels like you care more about that damn thing than our relationship.”

Your head whips around to stare at your partner through a glare.

Oh really now?

You care more about a stuffed piece of fabric in comparison to your almost five years of dating this person?? Yeah, right.

Your partner was just trying to deflect this situation away from the fact that you caught them cheating.

They were grasping at straws to throw the blame on you and your cherished plush was the only thing they could throw at you…pitiful.

You've had this little plushie since you were little and, honestly, you didn't even remember what show it was from– if it was on one. Your childhood friend gave it to you shortly before he moved away and you've since forgotten what he even looked like.

The only memory of him being the purple haired, humanoid plushie currently clasped between your hands as you fought the urge to throw it at your partner.

And, tired of your silence, your partner left your apartment shortly after.

Now, you were left alone with your plushie.

You slowly swipe your thumb back and forth over its pinkish-blue eyes as you ponder just why you cherished it so much. Why you cherished Raf so much.

Yeah, Raf. That's apparently the name of the plushie. That's what your mom claims you called it throughout the years, so you had no reason to change it.

But yeah. You were unsure why it never left your side.

You always kept it in your purse, in your shirt pocket– it almost felt like an emotional support doll, at this point.

Anyway, you stand up from the floor and go lock your door so your partner couldn't barge back inside the apartment, even if they wanted to. Then, you decide to go to bed. You were off work for the next few days, so you could finally get some well deserved rest.

You quickly get changed into your pajamas and curl up in the bed with Raf in your arms. Your hand resting against the red beret on its head, thumb gently brushing over the small black bead on top of the hat as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up feeling…warm? Too warm, in fact.

You know you fell asleep with the air conditioner on, so there's absolutely no reason for the room to feel as warm as it does.

You grumble under your breath, wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, and keep your eyes shut as you try to kick out from under the covers. You soon realize you can't do this, because you feel an odd weight holding you down.

If your partner snuck back in, you swear to god—

But when you open your eyes, you're met with an unfamiliar sight.

It's…a stranger. In bed with you.

Their hair, however, was oddly familiar.

Purple hair…

Nah, no way. There's no way your plushie suddenly turned into a human, but that would definitely make you feel less anxious than assuming a stranger was in your home.

You take a deep breath and glance around for your plushie. If you can find it, then this man isn't your favourite stuffed animal and if you can't– well, it could've fallen into the floor. You won't sink into the delusion that this man was Raf, until that was your final option.

You couldn't find it with just your eyes, so you attempted to wiggle out of the man's grasp. However, this only causes him to hold you tighter, his arms squeezing around your waist as he pulls you further into his bare chest.

…bare chest?

You blink a few times. Your head is close enough to touch the man's chin.

Fuck it.

You put your hands on his chest and desperately try to pull away from him, full on struggling since you've decided to not care if you wake him up or not. He came into your house, why should you be accommodating toward him??

“Hmm?”

You hear his tired voice as he finally removes one arm from your waist to rub his eyes, and the moment he opens then, you have no choice but to accept that he was your plushie.

Seriously, like what normal human has pinkish-blue eyes?? No one. Unless he's wearing contacts, that is literally your comfort doll.

You know it sounds crazy, but how else would this random guy know what your plush looks like?? Especially enough to copy its looks perfectly.

“Oh. Good morning, Y/n.” He yawns, stretching his arms up and that's when you snap.

You quickly sit up and move away from him, holding a hand out in front of you. “What're you doing in my house? You're not…Raf, are you?”

“You recognize me!?” He almost blinds you with his innocently charming smile.

“You're…joking, right? I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to believe that?” You say, half asleep but clearly not buying this act. You run a hand through your hair, brows furrowed and you could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh…you don't believe me..” he frowns, sitting up against the pillows. “Hmm…what can I do to make you believe me?”

“Uh…say something that only someone who knows me would know?” You throw your hands up in the air, exasperatedly.

Come on, how the heck were you supposed to know?? Though, you'd probably believe him if he said something personal.

“Raf” brings his hand up to rest under his chin as he contemplates what to say. After a few moments of silence, you stand up from the bed.

“Alright, if you're not going to say anything, then–”

“When you were seven, you threw up and ran into your mom's room crying because you thought you were dying…uh, oh also, when you were ten, you were trying to ride a bike and busted your knee open when you fell– you have a scar from it. At eleven, you accidentally punched a kid in the face and got into your first fight– that you lost, by the way. And at sixteen, you were going to lose your virginity, but your ex said you had to get Raf off the bed and you said, and I quote, ‘the doll stays’.”

“Raf” looks at you after he finishes talking with an almost proud looking smile on his face and you tilt your head to the side.

You…

…what?

You had no other choice, but to believe him now.

The scar on your knee would've been the easiest to guess, but the others? But you don't want to seem too gullible…

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Tell me more before I make my decision.”

Surely he wouldn't say anything embarrassing, right?

“You've faked every orgasm with your current partner. You can only cum if—”

“Okay, okay!” You quickly place your hand over his mouth. Your face turns scarlet as you squeeze your eyes shut. “That's enough. I'll believe you for now.”

You feel something wet against your palm and jerk your hand back. “What the hell– did you just lick my hand??” You drag your hand against your pants to wipe it off, before shaking your head. “Look, go get dressed. I'm sure my ex has some clothes you can wear.”

You put an emphasis on ex, since you decided you weren't going to stay with that cheater the moment they left your apartment last night.

Then, you leave the room.

Honestly….Raf was a pretty decent roommate. Sure, he didn’t work, but you'd come back to a home-cooked meal after work every day. He'd do the laundry, the dishes, and he even painted on the side.

You weren't sure if he'd ever turn back into a plush, but you preferred him this way. With him as a human, you could talk about your day with someone, eat with someone…there's only one problem.

Personal space and…personal time.

You haven't been able to get off in almost a month– that's how long Raf has been human by now– and it has started to get to you. You usually aren't a very sexual person, but sometimes you just need to rub one out every now and again…and you can't with him constantly snuggled in the bed next to you.

Tonight was another night where you wouldn't be able to do what you wanted.

You let out a small sigh as you get settled in bed. The TV played a random show in the background as it illuminated the otherwise dark room. Raf laid next to you, one arm curled under the pillow so he could still watch the TV. He was shirtless too, so that made your conundrum even better.

“What's wrong?” He asks, not looking away from the TV and you quickly shake your head.

“It's nothing. Nothing at all.”

Raf shifts over to his side to look at your face, raising one of his eyebrows ever so slightly. “You haven't…Well, I mean, you usually do it once a week and it's been a month now–”

“Raf–” you sigh, covering his head with a pillow. “Shut up.”

He pulls the pillow down, so only his eyes are visible. “Do you still not see me as a man?”

“I don't want to talk about this right now.” You try to pull the pillow back over his face and he catches you by the wrist.

“I could make you feel way better than your ex did…” he trails off as he guides your hand to the front of his pajama pants.

You could visibly see a bump from over the covers and you choke on your spit as you felt something warm under your palm.

Something big.

“Raf…” you trail off, but you can't find the will to tell him to let it go.

His words made you curious…you wanted to know if sex could actually feel good or if he was just talking a big game.

What could he really know about sex, anyways?

He's only been human for a month now, so there's no way he could actually be good at it, right?

As you're lost in thoughts, your hand subconsciously squeezes his election and Raf tilts his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back a groan.

“Earth to Y/n.” He hums, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Yes or no, cutie? I want explicit consent.”

You were battling with your thoughts, but you ultimately nodded your head.

“Use your words now. Your pretty lips aren't just there for show, are they?” The man taps his finger against your bottom lip and you let out an impatient sigh, “Yes, now can you please–”

Your words were silenced by Raf's lips crashing down against yours.

One of his hands ghosts down your body, fingers resting under the waistband of your pajama shorts, just a few inches from where you really wanted his touch. His other hand slides up your shirt, cupping a breast.

You feel the bed dip underneath you as Raf swings a leg over your body, fully pinning you to the bed as he continues his assault against your lips.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, but you playfully refuse to let him in. In retaliation, Raf’s fingers pinch around your nipple and harshly tug at it. A gasp escapes you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue past your open lips.

The only time your lips part is when Raf leans back to tug his shirt off and takes off yours as well.

Now shirtless in front of the man, you can't help but feel a little self conscious.

Though Raf quickly dissuades your self doubt by dipping his head down to latch onto your nipple. His hand finally moved further into your pants. His index finger resting on your clit and you arch your hips up, trying to force him to move.

Your thigh stings in pain as you feel Raf's palm collide with your skin.

“Patience.” He murmurs against your chest.

His fingers draw lazy circles against your clit and, while it is pleasurable, you want more.

You dip your hand past his waistband and grab onto his dick. Your hand could barely wrap fully around it and you could only imagine how it would feel. It felt like it would hurt…a little. But what's a little pain?

Your hand lazily strokes Raf's dick, thumb dragging over his tip to collect a few drops of precum and that's when the man finally snaps.

His fingers move lower. His middle finger slowly glides inside of you and he gives you a few thrusts with his singular finger, before adding a second one. With both fingers sheathed inside, he makes a ‘come-hither’ motion with every thrust of his digits.

“R-Raf– wa—ah— wait..” Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder while your other hand pauses its movements. You try to hide your face in your shoulder, but Raf seizes your chin with a hand.

“Don't look away now, princess. I wanna see your face. Wanna see just how good I'm making you feel.” He tsks and pulls away for a moment.

He strips you of your bottoms, tossing them to the side as his big hands grip your thighs. His palm slaps the newly exposed skin before he taps your hands.

“Hold your legs up for me and don't drop them.”

You want to question his words, but don't. Instead, you wrap your arms under your knees and pull them as close to your chest as you can. It was, honestly, a really embarrassing position, but you couldn't help but get even more wet.

Your juices were tacky against your thighs and even dripping down onto the sheets below you.

“Raf…” you whine, wondering what's taking him so long since you expected him to fuck you already. But instead of his cock, you feel something else.

You feel something warm and wet against your clit, and a strangled noise comes up from your throat as Raf flicks his tongue against your pussy. His fingers going back to your entrance to slip inside as he wraps his lips around your clit.

Your head tilts back as moans spill from your lips. Raf's skilled fingers working at your center while he tongue draws figure-eights on your clit.

“R-Raf, inside. ‘Wanna cum with you inside, please?” You finally manage to say, your nails digging into your legs.

Your heart stutters in your chest as Raf makes eye contact as he eats you out. Only pausing to respond to you, his fingers still moving.

“You gotta be more specific, princess. I am inside you right now.” He teases.

As you open your mouth to answer, he curls his fingers and they just barely brush your g-spot.

“I want your di– ah, Raf, right there!” Your hips jerk with every thrust of his fingers and you can feel yourself growing closer to your first orgasm, but Raf has other plans.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for your climax, suddenly you feel empty.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Raf is licking his fingers clean.

A lazy smirk tugs at the man's lips and his hand disappears into his pants, freeing his dick from its confines.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his angry, red tip. The glistening precum. The way his hand drug against the length of it.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!”” Raf snaps his fingers with a pout. “Geez, you really know how to make a man feel like a pack of meat.” He taps the tip of his dick against your clit and your hips jump.

“Ah, what's the magic word, cutie?” His hand pushes down on your hips, effectively pinning them to the bed as he smears his precum across your clit.

“I…” You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs before you finally let them go and hold your arms out. “Please fuck me.”

Raf's arms wrap around you as he finally pushes his tip inside and his voice of reason finally snaps. He was originally going to take it slow, to give you time to adjust, but the feeling of your tight, warm walls around his cock makes him unable to think straight.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. Though there is a bit of skill to his thrusts, there's also a smidgen of inexperience mixed within it.

“You're so tight, cutie. Do you like my cock that much?” He hums, his lips dragging against the skin of your neck. He firmly presses his lips down, parting them slightly to suck a painful bruise on your neck.

His hips continue to snap forward. His cock languidly pumps in and out of your pussy. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin, the sound of your bodies coming together, fills the otherwise silent room.

His thumb dips down to make quick circles against your lip as his cock brushes against your g-spot and he claims your lips once more.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging up his skin to leave deep red marks in their wake. Your moans are swallowed by Raf's lips. His tongue collides with yours and you briefly fight for dominance. You ultimately lose, though you didn't put up much of a fight.

The man pulls out and you're about to complain, but suddenly you're flipped onto your knees. Raf presses his palm into the small of your back and your face slams into your pillows.

His cock re-enters as he thrusts, his palm cracks down across your ass. You can't hide the moan that slips from your parted lips and Raf raises a brow.

“Oohh, someone's a bit of a pain slut?”

With this new knowledge, Raf pulls you up by your hair. Your back against his chest and his other hand glides over your body. His two fingers make quick circular motions against your clit and he releases your hair, instead wrapping his hand around your throat.

“R–Raf, please. ‘M so close.” Another noise slips from your lips as his cock just barely kisses your g-spot and you can feel his breath against your ear. “You gonna cum for me?” He presses a small kiss on your shoulder, his hand squeezing around your neck as he quickens his thrusts.

“Uh-huh…” you nod your head, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to hold back your moans. You could feel your juices soaking your thighs, could hear the evidence of your arousal with every thrust.

With one last precise thrust that brushes your g-spot, you cum.

You tilt your head back with a choked cry, your hips jerking as your walls spasm around his cock.

“Princess…” Raf groans, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he surges forward. Your body falls forward and your hands go out to steady yourself as he continues to harshly thrust. “Inside or out?”

You take a moment to think before you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes. “Out, please.”

Raf flips you over onto your back once more and after a few more pumps, he pulls out. His hand quickly strokes his cock before his head tilts back and he moans. His tip shoots out strings of cum, painting your stomach and chest with white ropes.

“Fuck…” he takes a few breathes before you meet each other's eyes.

Then, you both laugh giddily and he dips his head down to gently kiss you.

“I'll go grab a washcloth to clean you up.” He smiles against your lips before he gets off the bed to head into the bathroom.

You sit up and stretch out your sore limbs while you look around for your phone to check the time. “Huh…I could've sworn it was on the bed..” You click your tongue and sigh, sliding off the bed to check if it fell into the floor.

Your hand pats around under your bed and you let out a small squeak of surprise as your hand brushes against something soft. You jerk your hand back, but notice your phone was on the floor. You press a hand against your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. Then, you turn on your phone's flashlight to look under your bed.

“Wait…” you squint, noticing something that looks oddly familiar and once you fish it out, your eyes widen.

It…was Raf.

Slightly dusty since it had been under your bed for a few months, but…this was most certainly Raf, your beloved plushie.

Your head slowly turns in the direction of your bathroom with wide eyes. If your plush Raf was in your hands then…who was in your bathroom?

The door swings open and Raf– no, the stranger walks out from your bathroom with a washcloth in hand.

“I think I'm going to need to do the laundry soon. This is the last clean on– oh, you found it.” The purple-haired man leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I– who…” you look from your cherished plushie to him. “You're not even…”

Then, he chuckles.

“You ever noticed the little black ball on his beret?” He taps a finger against his temple. “I gave you that when we were little…been watching you ever since.” He has a smile on his lips as if this was a normal thing to admit.

“You're—”

“Highly intelligent? Devilishly handsome?”

“—insane.”

“No, silly girl. My name is Rafayel. Don't worry, I'll fuck you a few more times so you can remember it.”

I tried my best and that's all that matters tbh 😭 I think it seems so bad because it's in second person and I'm used to writing smut in first. But I'm hoping I'll get better at it with practice!

Either way, I'm sure this isn't the worst smut you've read so I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, sorry there isn't a drabble this week! I might write one soon since I've got two days off 🤔 I'm not sure yet tbh

So Close (L x Reader)

A/N: Requested by @god-like-eyebrows (and technically @lilredbird101 who asked me a while back to do more L pieces)! Hope it’s to your liking!

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