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webism · 4 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY TWO: taking choso's virginity.

kinktober masterlist

virgin!choso who, at first, lied to you about the intactness of his 'innocence'. he didn't want you to think him unworthy of your body because he didn't quite know what he was doing. so when you asked? of course he's had sex before.

virgin!choso who knows you're not stupid, who knows you pick up on the way he mewls with white hot need every time a kiss turns to a heated make-out session. he knows you pick up on the hitch of his breath each time your hands roam over that delicate chest of his. he knows you know that he's a fucking liar.

virgin!choso who still doesn't come clean until one night when he's sure you're too needy to keep your hands to yourself. when you're laid underneath him because he's finally gathered the confidence to push you into the mattress of your bed, and your hands start to roam down to the waistband of his pants.

virgin!choso who is rock hard from a few kisses, and can't bear the thought of you knowing just how desperate he is for your touch, your scent, your whole being. so he pulls back, sits back on his heels as you sit up on your elbows to give him an inquisitive look. you ask him if he doesn't want you touching him there—he knows you'd respect it if that were the case.

virgin!choso who can't deny his want—who can't help the blush that colours his cheeks as he shakes his heads and manages the words to tell you that it's not a lack of want, but rather a lack of experience. his voice is small, delicate, when he tells you, 'I've just never done it before."

virgin!choso who can't figure out why you're laughing when he's just opened up to you. you're not laughing at him, he knows you'd never do that, but the sweet giggles that fall from your lips indicate nothing other than the fact you already knew. you tell your sweet boy as such, that you'd be concerned if he had been with anyone before you, considering the logistics of your relationship.

virgin!choso who, when he asks you if it bothers you that he's got no experience, feels his achy cock twitch in his pants when you tell him that it actually turns you on. to know you're the only person to feel him inside of you—the only one that ever will—is beyond an aphrodisiac for you. it only feeds into the possessive streak you have, and god does choso find he likes being the subject of your staked claim.

virgin!choso who decides he'd like to set the pace for his first time. which is more than okay with you, because god the sight of him hovering over you with his eyes squeezed shut as you reach down and pull his cock out of his pants is heavensent. he's unsurprisingly big, and offers to prep you with his fingers first, but you decline—the notion of taking your sweet boys virginity is enough to soak you.

virgin!choso whose vision blurs once he's got your panties pulled off and he's rubbing his fat tip up and down your folds, choked for breath at only a taste of your heat. his hair is loose, hanging over his face and falling into yours as he steadies himself above you—he's beautiful, his virginity in your hands, trust struck between you as he takes a breath and pushes into you, inch by gorgeous inch.

virgin!choso who has to busy his mouth with kissing yours, because his gasps come in quick as he bottoms out inside of you, pushes to the base as he tries to acclimate to the feel of you wrapped around him. you take him perfectly, and choso often wonders just how handmade his design is, but can't deny he was made with you in mind, what with how perfectly you fit together. he moans against your lips, loud and unashamed, because he's never in his life felt so good.

virgin!choso who reels when you wrap your legs round his wait, use your hands to grab at his shoulders, trace your nails down his back, grab his ass as he jolts into you. who, when he starts moving, can't stop. the drag and pull of his cock inside of you is hypnotic—choso would swear this is a cursed technique of yours, sending him dizzy after only a few thrusts.

virgin!choso who, understandably, can't hold on for very long once he finally finds a nice rhythm. he's sent so stupid with all these new sensations that he's a babbling mess, barely comprehensible as he complains about the taut band in his abdomen that's going to snap any moment—thankfully you're right behind him, the intimacy of cho's devout lust is more than enough to justify both of your early orgasms. you decide that his first orgasm with you would be a waste anywhere besides deep inside of you, and spur him on to finish inside.

virgin!choso who cries when he cums. hot tears prickling at his eyes, rolling down his cheeks in salty drops that you kiss clean. his hips stutter, and he's simply unable to keep himself supported above you—he collapses on top of your body as he twitches and jerks with rapt pleasure. you pepper kisses all over his face, from the tip of his nose to his fluttering lashes, right before you follow in his climax and tip over the edge yourself.

virgin!choso who becomes fearful of losing this sensation. who, once you're both back in reality, refuses to pull out of you. hopefully you can handle cockwarming for a long time more, because frankly, your sweet choso has quickly become an addict.

#j cole inspired me can you tell #and i aint ever did this before nooooo #choso smut #choso kamo smut #kinktober 2024 #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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creativelifebynherie · 1 year ago

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Click the link below!

📚 Read my review on this book! It was the push I needed to launch my craft business @createseasonstudio

#book review #book recommendations #book #handmade #hobbies #hobby #acreativelifebynherie #business tips #blogpost

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2-dsimp · 10 months ago

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I feel like Danny would be conflicted on if he would want to screw his darling when they're in a really well done sexy cosplay because of how hot y/n looks in it or not because he doesn't want their outfit ruined since cosplay outfits take a long time to do (makeup alone takes a while and if the outfit is handmade it is even longer).

Like, he's so horny seeing his darling dressed in such a hot and lewd outfit, saving many pictures for his "private" files, and dreaming of so many scenarios he could go at it like a rabbit with y/n, at the same time he would sob if even a small tear were to damage the outfit.

He's probably likely to keep the stockings/thigh highs on his y/n at the very least if he does take off the rest of their outfit while he's desperately going at it.

-a rambling anon

I do agree with that dearest rambling anon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) NSFW,MDNI🔞 fem! Reader

Generally speaking being the lazybones he is Danny doesn’t necessarily have a high sex drive to begin with, as it’s mainly nonexistent.

Before meeting his darling he’d be too busy fanboying over his favorite anime creators and merch that he hoards like a dragon to even have the effort to jerk off. If it did go hard he’d just think about old grannies or cute animals so it’d soften leaving him with no distractions on his binging.

Overall he’s a lowkey kind of guy when it comes to his energy output emission. But once he meet his cosplayer darling, who had the uncanny ability to turn his off switch on in an instance. Before he knew it, Danny’s whole entire nonexistent sex life dynamic had shifted.

And being the weeb virgin he is, the first time around when yall decided to make love. The Boss would be overly nervous and excited making pathetic humps against your mound. Jaw slacked from just rubbing his leaking dick against your soft skin. Lacking any thoughts whatsoever inside his head. As he soon became a love sex zombie from the way your pussy put him in a trance.

He’d continuously praise and thank his goddess for letting him cream your insides with his filthy otaku cum. Since you’d pop his cherry and take his nut simultaneously in one sitting. The moment his mushroom tip got suckled inside your tight twat.

Btw Danny’s got an uncanny fixation with thick thighs he’s wanna get crushed in between them and suffocate just so he knows what heaven feels like★彡

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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cw: it’s just angst & jjk manga spoilers

satoru wakes with a start.

his breaths come a little faster than his body can process, his heart is pounding in his chest, and his head feels like someone’s stuck a hot poker in it.

it takes him what feels like a few minutes to settle down again, clutching the bedsheets in a tightly wound fist.

once things seemed to have returned to a normal level, he tries to remember what’d startled him. was it a dream? a memory? had he simply jerked himself awake whilst on the precipice of sleep, like you claimed he did—

his mind seems to be clearing up, because his next instinct is to sit up and make sure you’re okay.

you’re fine, sound asleep on your side of the bed.

satoru relaxes, albeit only slightly. he’s not sure why he’d been struck with such sudden panic. there’s just this…feeling. he might even go as far as to call it an overwhelming sense of dread, if he were dramatic.

there’s something. it’s hiding in the back of his brain, somewhere even his six eyes can’t find or comprehend.

he leans back against the headboard, reaching up to run his hands through then lightly grip the strands of his hair. outside, the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon, but whatever had startled him had left him wide awake.

“the kids are gonna be up soon,” you mumble, pulling him out of the mess of his mind. “better sleep while you have time.”

time. the word flashes like a flint strike in his mind, but the sparks don’t quite catch yet.

so he lays next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. he feels a bit better, with you in his arms.

“what’s wrong?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep.

“nothing,” he lies.

you hum, but he knows that you know him too well. you always know when he’s lying.

you twist in his arms so the two of you are face to face, the tip of your nose brushing his.

your sleepy gaze finds his, sending him a small smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t reply because he finds he’s too busy memorizing the details or your face; the flecks of colour in your eyes, the slope of your nose. it’s as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

or maybe the last.

the thought comes out of nowhere and scares him so badly that he tries to pull away.

“hey,” you murmur, cradling his face in your hands. he catches your wrist intending to pull you away, but instead he clings to you like a lifeline. you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “you’re okay.”

he wants to believe you, he really does. but anxiety is beginning to gnaw on the edge of his sanity.

“something’s wrong,” he admits quietly. “i don’t— i don’t know—”

“you worry too much,” you sigh, your thumb smoothing over his cheek.

“i just want us all to be safe,” he tells you.

“i know,” you hum again, smiling a little sadly. “i just wish you wouldn’t let it come at your expense.”

there are a lot of things he wants to say in this moment. he wants to ask why you’re worried, because you know he’s the strongest. that he would rip the heavens apart for you. he wants to tell you that he has a plan, and that he knows it’ll work.

(a plan for what? he thinks briefly. he can’t remember.)

but most of all…he wants to tell you that he loves you and the life you’ve built together. too much to leave it all behind.

but all that comes out is,

“i’d rather it be me than any of you.”

“don’t say that,” you frown. “we need you. i need you.”

there’s an awful ache settled deep in his chest, carving into the place where his heart sits.

“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning to go anywhere anytime soon.” lie. “i love you.”

truth.

he rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers with yours.

the memories hit him like a gut punch.

handmade mochi. the flick of a lighter. a beach in okinawa. megumi and tsumiki laughing. you in your wedding dress, telling him you love him.

a crowded station. the beginning of the end.

his eyelids are suddenly heavy. there’s not enough time, he panics. that can’t be it—

“i’ll be here when you wake up,” you promise, and even though you sound like you’re a million miles away, he can hear the sadness in your voice. “you can rest now.”

satoru closes his eyes.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

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Unplugged

Summary: Terry makes a big mistake on Christmas Day.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2,061

Warnings: Sexual themes

Previous: From Terrence, With Love + MASTERLIST

With the last hours of Christmas ticking away and their precious little girl safe and sound at her Papa and Maman’s house less than 15 minutes away, Terry and Patrice were free to let the abundance of alcohol and holiday cheer still buzzing in their systems from family dinner do the all talking.

From her spot on the bed, Patrice bit her lip to calm the flame inside her body as she watched Terry’s bare back flex and tense while he slid a trio of black boxes from a secret spot on the top shelf of their closet. She’d been watching him all night, waiting for the best time to flash the car keys and rush him back into the house for alone time. The playing cards and second round of sweet potato pie could barely hit the dinner table before they were hastily throwing scarves around their necks and wishing everyone a final Merry Christmas.

“Baby, I need you,” Patrice commented, her voice impatient yet sultry under the influence of tequila.

Terry looked over his shoulder with drooping lids and a lazy smile. “You keep talking to me like that and we might not open a single gift tonight.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In their second Christmas as a married couple, they’d agreed to exchange their gifts in private to preserve the sentimental value of the moment and avoid prying eyes when the innocent giving took a turn toward their personal business.

Patrice carefully guarded small cache of packages topped with neat, black velvet bows and numbered based on the order she wanted Terry to unveil his surprises. She’d worked hard on the right mix of practical, sentimental, and sexy since the summer and couldn’t rest until Terry had unwrapped each one according to her very specific instructions.

Though Terry didn’t have the same propensity for extravagance, he had spent the last three weeks bursting at the seams to watch his wife’s eyes light up with every overly expensive gift box lid popped.

He carefully balanced each box in his arms on his way to the bed before gingerly placing them at her feet like precious rubies presented to a queen. The mattress dipped under his weight as he pressed on his hands and knees to lead their umpteenth french kiss since they’d escaped the family.

“Wanna go first?” His question was nearly lost in a deep mumble once he focused his energy on dragging his lips and tongue frome her ear to her clavicle.

“What if I made you go first instead?”

He chuckled against her neck before pressing a kiss in a random spot. “Then I’ll do whatever you tell me. You know how much I love to follow your directions, Mrs. Richmond.”

The mention of her favorite title on the tip of his skilled tongue made Patrice’s body react with a visible shiver. He knew how to use his power as a willing listener to get exactly what he wanted.

Patrice watched him slowly take his place at the head of the bed, one leg bent and propped while he watched her watch him with beautifully dark eyes under long lashes. Her bottom lip found itself trapped beneath her top row of teeth again to keep her thoughts in check.

“Okay,” she spoke, barely above a whisper. “Start with this one.”

Tickets to an experience, a handmade coupon book for redeemable favors, and a digital album featuring racey photos and videos from a recent boudoir shoot all laddered up to Patrice’s final reveal.

“Are these restraints for you or me,” he asked as he pulled the apparatus from its cozy spot inside of a discreet box. He eyed the small round spaces meant for his ankles and wrists before looking up at Patrice and her mischievous grin.

She nodded. “Both of us. We don’t have to use them immediately but give it a thought. I’ll take good care of you, baby.”

Uncertainty in Terry’s eyes and furrowed brows made Patrice crawl closer to capture his chin in her hand, allowing the tips of her stiletto nails to graze the fresh shaven skin on his face. He searched her disarming smile for confirmation.

“You got me?”

“The whole time. However you need me.”

Gentle reassurance that she would, in fact, be there during their exploration seemed to satiate Terry long enough to ask for a kiss that quickly introduced large hands seeking refuge beneath the shirt of Patrice’s thin lounge set. Flashes of being under her control with nowhere to run fell somewhere between fear and undeniable arousal that manifested itself physically once she moved to straddle Terry’s waist per his quiet request.

She leaned forward to nip at his neck. “Mmm, someone’s excited to see me. We should take a break so I can tell him hi.”

“Feels like he ain’t the only one that’s excited,” he answered, attention shifting to the meeting in his lap. “C’mon, open your stuff first. Then we’ll move on.”

“We should skip me and double back after.”

Whining and a little begging wasn’t enough for Patrice to change Terry’s mind. He remained bullheaded with his desires, adding a quick smack to her ass as motivation to do as he asked and to preview what was to come if she was efficient in the process.

The first gift, a sappy custom vinyl with all the love songs that made Terry think of her, earned him a heartfelt thank you and sweet kisses between murmured declarations of undying love. The newly restored and engraved wrist watch from her Nana’s collection nearly made her scream in appreciation that he’d been able to help her keep a family heirloom.

She was so full gratitude and appreciation that, when she popped the lid off of the final gift and found a shining gold necklace adorned with a photo pendant of their daughter, she accepted it as commonplace.

Terry listened with his eyes closed, waiting to hear the gasp he expected as Patrice pulled the item from its box.

“Aw, baby, this is super cute. I’ll wear it everyday!”

“Everyday is kinda excessive, don’t you think?” He asked, eyebrow pulled high while his eyes remained shut.

He’d heard that prolonged wear could make the experience more comfortable, but multiple times a week struck him as odd even for his wife.

“It’s a cute necklace. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Necklace? What are you…” A necklace? He’d purchased something for the other end of her body. She’d even picked a few out to guide his shopping. As his mental roladex sped through the list he’d compiled, sudden realization made his body grow hot with anxiety.

His worst fear had materialized.

Patrice watched Terry’s face morph into a uncharacteristic mix of horror and dread, painting winter pale light skin a faint red across his ears and forehead. His eyed opened wide while he frantically searched for his phone amongst the bed’s clutter. He moved without words and palpable fear that started to transfer to Patrice as his grip on her thigh tightened.

She started to help him look though she didn’t know for what exactly. “Terrence, what is wrong with you? I like the necklace! Talk!”

Nothing. Not even a second glance as he pulled his cellphone from beneath a box lid and feverishly tapped at the screen.

“Answer. C’mon, c’mon.” The line on the other end rang twice, three times, and an agonizing forth until the intended party answered with hearty laughter. “Imani! Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you, love. What you need?”

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather the necessary words to remain vague but thorough. Patrice leaned in closer in hopes of receiving the information that he was withholding.

“I…made a really big mistake and I need your help without judgement.”

“Oh-kay. Is this a drug heist or something?”

“Say what you mean, TJ.”

Terry shot a look in Patrice’s direction, earning a mouthed ‘what’ as opposition. “I mixed up gifts for Treece and my mama. If she opens that box and sees what’s inside, she gon’ think less of me. I need you to get that back.”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s personal.”

“Clearly,” she laughed. “But what is it? We family!”

“Imani, please don’t make me say it.”

The guilt in his voice helped put the pieces together for Patrice, widening the pit of anxiety she already felt. Think less of him? What would Diedra think of her once she saw what her sweet daughter-in-love was doing to corrupt her only son?

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Imani cleared her throat and ended her prying as quickly as it had begun.

“I actually don’t wanna know anymore. Keep it to yourself,” she answered. “Can you at least tell me where the gift is? And if I should wear a glove when I touch it?”

Terry sighed. “You don’t need a glove but I do need you to explain in as little detail as possible that she has the wrong gift and that I’ll take her to brunch and give her the right one tomorrow. If she asks, just tell her to call me.”

“Please believe me when I say you never had to worry about me telling Ms. Dee Dee that her son likes to buy all kinds of gadgets and gizmos to keep his nasty wife excited.”

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“I know you can! And, honestly, do your thing, friend. We’ll talk on the side.”

“We will,” Patrice added, flipping her pressed hair over her shoulder for added flair. “Thank you, Moanie! We owe you.”

Another reminder of her duties from Terry and a laundry list of potential repayments sent Imani on a covert mission to recover the goods and ease their worries.

Patrice’s hands blazed a soothing path from her husband’s chest to his ears to softly rub the area while she pressed a kiss to his lips that he feebily returned. The thought of his mother opening that small black box in front family members and finding his initials enscribed on an aquamarine gem meant to grace his wife where the sun didn’t often shine was enough to exhaust Terry more than any workout ever could.

His heartrate began to slow once Patrice reminded him to breathe with calming instructions for him to match her rhythm.

She spoke against his cheek after adding a kiss. “Was it the silicone one I showed you? With your birthstone on it?”

“Mhm. You convinced me and I looking forward to seeing it in you tonight. Now that’s ruined.”

“Ruined? Oh, baby,” she cooed into his ear, one hand traveling south to wedge itself between them and reignite a waning fire. She giggled when he tensed and released a shaky breath that fanned across her neck. “How can it be ruined when he’s still so happy to see me. You sure you don’t wanna finish what we started?”

“A little.”

“What can I do to turn that little into a lot? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

Sliding her tongue against the shell of his ear before a beginning a slow kiss kicked Terry into overdrive just as she intended. Anticipation mingled with desire. Desire became primal urges fighting for freedom. Urges made Terry groaned into Patrice’s mouth as a reminder that he while he was typically calm and collected, there was a still man inside that craved physical contact.

Patrice lowered her voice to reiterate her point. “Anything. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

Like a moth to a bright light, Terry’s fingers danced across the bed to connect with the cold metal attached the restraints that both and intrigued and terrified him. Patrice listened to the chains clink against each other as he pulled them closer, a smile creeping across her face when their eyes met.

“You’re gonna go first. Arms in front or behind?”

“In front. Like this.”

Seeing her wrists pressed tightly together, the motion lifting her clothed breasts higher, was the perfect demonstration for a visual learner. It wasn’t long before Patrice found herself fully exposed, bound, and waiting for further instructions upside down at the edge of the bed.

Tonight, the teacher would be the student, receiving gift after gift after shaking, breathless, filthy gift. Crisis averted. A Merry Christmas, indeed.

-------

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#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #ficmas

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izvmimi · 10 months ago

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cw: canon deviation. time-skip (post demon slaying). babies. fem!reader.

“And what are you looking at?”

Genya is known for how intimidating he can be, but the round-cheeked, giggling child held at eye level between his hands right now will never see anything other than a loving father no matter how intensely he pretends to glare at him. The giggly ball of dough, practically hairless still despite nearly three months and a half in the world, kicks its feet and Genya smiles, helplessly charmed, before blowing a raspberry into his cheek and lowering him into his lap.

“Those Shinaguzawa family genes are no joke,” your friend jokes. She’s been watching the baby carefully for the past few minutes since she and Tanjiro entered the home, bearing gifts of cloth diapers and handmade quilt blankets, among other soft things. Genya is quickly defensive, reminding her for the nth time that your son has your nose, but you laugh to dispel the tension. After all, she’s right. The baby’s eyes are practically the same as his father's and his uncle's, although when he smiles ear to ear, his eyes close like yours do.

“He looks just like his daddy,” you agree. You’re still setting your dining table for six and your friends have gotten up to help you pour tea for six, and collect plates of dorayaki, senbei and edamame to set at the table.

Sanemi chuckles, adjusting his sitting position on the tatami.

“I mean, I think we deserve that much,” he says, gruffly, as he supports himself. You know what he means, and nod solemnly without additional comment while his wife squeezes his shoulder before disappearing to follow you. Your friends have congratulated you after the birth of your first child multiple times, having taken turns assisting you right after delivery, but you haven’t seen them in a month or so, and adjusting to your new life has been rewarding but difficult. One of them fills your pantry with dried goods while the other scans the premises for anywhere that she can clean or reinforce. You thank them, a smile on your face.

“We’re doing great. Genya takes good care of me, don’t worry,” you remind them, and they have no problems believing it.

Your baby thankfully isn’t fussy, and Genya is a surprisingly adept father, quick to learn the basics of bottle feeding and diapering, and making sure your house is clean and comfortable to live in. Living in relative poverty as a child made him work hard and be frugal, experiencing tragedy made him thoughtful and protective, and he does his absolute best to take care of you.

He’d always promised to take care of you as long as you both lived.

When you return to the entertainment room, your friends and you settling next to the men you’ve chosen, you lay your head on Genya’s shoulder, thankful that he’s the one that you chose, and he chose you just the same.

…

Sanemi and his wife stay the night, and once everyone has turned in from the night and your son is sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, you lay in bed, wrapped warm in Genya’s arms.

“We need a nephew or niece of our own, don’t you think?” you muse. “Gotta get them in the sack faster before they can’t catch up to us.”

Genya snorts, pressing his chin on the soft of your shoulder as he holds you closer.

“That’s their business,” he murmurs, gruffly. “By the way, tell your friend to stop calling our kid ‘tofu’.”

You giggle. “Has it been bothering you?”

“Yes or I wouldn’t be bringing it up right now.”

“I think it’s cute,” you tease, turning in his hold. He’s surprised by the sudden movement, you can tell, by the red in your cheeks. “What?”

Genya blinks, then kisses your forehead. “Nothing.”

“Is something on my face?” you ask.

“No. You’re beautiful.” You beam at this, then pull the covers tighter around your body.

“You’re a good dad, Genya,” you remind him. You’re not sure that he needs to hear it, but you want to reassure him. He’s heard tip after tip from his older brother today and you overheard Sanemi telling him his mother would be proud of him. You hope it sinks in because she would, and you wonder if he’s still mulling over the thought.

The sweet child nicknamed ‘tofu’ to his father’s chagrin sleeps through the night with parents that love him more than anything on earth, because they love each other more than life itself.

#genya shinazugawa x reader #genya x reader #genya x reader fluff #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes

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