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bonelessghoul · 24 hours ago

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In the Shadows of Chains

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x femaleOC (probably feels more like a reader but I named her Julia bc typing out y/n was getting on my nerves lol)

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: def 18+ for unprotected seggs and a short and sweet smut scene, otherwise just mild descriptions of violence in the arena

Summary: Julia Valentis, the daughter of a newly appointed Senator, welcomes home her General in secret after almost a year apart. Things are different this time though and neither want their relationship to continue in secret. However, Julia suspects her father may have made other plans for her future when a certain emperor takes interest in her.

Authors note: can’t believe this is what took me out of my hiatus but here we are, in all fairness I didn’t really thoroughly edit this before deciding to post so pls be kind <3 or don’t, it’s okay. I hope you all enjoy!

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In the heart of Rome, celebration roared under the golden light that spilled from hanging lamps. An excess of good spirits filled the air as much as it filled the goblets of the elite. The warm light and abundance of laughter reverberated off of the marble floors and the mosaics above their heads. It was more dreamy than even common folk could imagine. With the twins in power, most nights were like this.

Julia Valentis stood near the edge of the atrium, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her goblet out of boredom.

She watched the crowd with a practiced and mastered detachment, offering polite nods to passing senators and their wives. Their gazes were not as subtle as they seemed and the same ones who watched her grow were now the same ones pressuring her father to marry her off. Since her father’s appointment, she’s been careful not to draw any attention to herself. She didn’t want her future under scrutiny as futile as that seemed.

Regardless, her focus was elsewhere as she leaned her shoulder against the cold stone of the column beside her.

Marcus Acacius, the General, stood at the center of the gathering, towering in his uniform of white and gold, surrounded by admirers eager to hear tales of his triumphs abroad. She too eagerly awaited his arrival, its anticipation creating a knot in her stomach all day. But even now, as she watched from afar, she knew she could not have him under the eyes of her father and his fellow Senators.

Instead, she watched as his eyes drifted around through conversation until they found hers.

It was only a glance, but it was enough.

Even after several months without his presence in the city, the soft eyes from across the room reeled her in as it did the day he left. The corner of his mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile, a gesture meant only for her as though it may seem it was for whoever he was speaking to.

Julia felt her heart quicken, warmth blooming in her chest every time. She looked away quickly, playing oblivious.

They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, not since the night before his departure. She had wished him well in the shadows of her father’s garden, her fingers grazing his face as she whispered her fears for his safety. Now, he was back, and though he stood surrounded by Rome’s most powerful and most lustful, the weight of his gaze made her feel as though they were alone.

As the night wore on, Julia carefully wove her way through the crowd, her movements deliberate and unhurried.

Occasionally, she was pulled into polite conversation in regards to her future. But she was able to escape as fast as they caught her. Marcus did the same, stepping away from his admirers under the guise of needing a moment to breathe.

The gardens that stretched out from the villa signified the day they first met.

Even though she could not see him, Julia followed the musk of flowers and herbs under the moonlight and remnants of light from the party. She was met with a gentle breeze that made it intoxicating, between the chase and the richness of the gardens. Her robes of varying shades of blues were a thin veil between the air and the goosebumps that rose on her skin, but she nearly blended in with the night—it’s what made it so easy to sneak up on Marcus.

In the furthest corner of the garden away from prying eyes, only Julia was capable of sneaking upon the General and without a moments hesitation she pounced and wrapped her arms around his shoulder with a small leap.

“You have to be more careful, General. Someone could hurt you out here.”

Under his armor that she could barely wrap her arm around, she felt him tense but he turned, meeting her embrace and despite being startled, his eyes softened quickly at the sight of her.

“You’re here,” he murmured, his voice raw, a smile creeping upon his face.

One strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close against his large frame and the other cupping her face. The moonlight caressed every inch of her skin, a white sparkle to her eyes that looked up at him adoringly as they began to prick with tears. Marcus himself looked to be in disbelief that she was even here, the mere thought of her leaving crumbling him in that moment.

“Of course I’m here,” she replied, her own voice trembling with emotion. “How could I not be?”

He kissed her then, a desperate, searching kiss that spoke of a year’s worth of longing and unspoken words. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as if to anchor him down to her. They melded together, shadows dancing across their features like they would slip away into the darkness itself.

When they finally broke apart, Marcus rested his forehead against hers, his breath uneven. “I thought of you every day,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her hand slid down his arm, her fingers brushing the cool metal of his bracer.

“And I thought of you,” she said softly. “Every day, I prayed for your safe return.”

For a moment, there was only silence, the kind that carried the weight of everything they couldn’t say. The tears that pricked her eyes had snuck through, and she thought of every night she cried when she missed him most. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw something else—a shadow, a burden he hadn’t carried before. Suddenly, her childish tears felt small.

“Marcus,” she said, her tone shifting, “what is it? What happened?”

He turned away, his jaw tightening. “I did what was required of me. What the Emperor demanded. Now I am home.”

Her hand found his, and she squeezed it gently. Since they first found each other in this very space, it was no secret that the honor he carried had a heavier weight behind it.

She cupped his face to keep his eyes on hers.

“The cost is feeling greater, is it not?”

His shoulders sagged, the proud soldier’s facade cracking as his own hands wrapped her wrists.

“Villages burned, families torn apart. It’s what they call victory, but it feels like—” He stopped, unable to finish the thought.

Julia stepped closer, if that was even possible.

“You carry the weight of the Empire on your shoulders, Marcus. But that weight doesn’t define who you are. You cannot let this guilt break you down.”

He looked at her, his expression a mixture of gratitude and anguish. “And what am I, Julia? A weapon in service of men who care only for power?”

“You are more than that,” she insisted, her voice firm. “You are kind. You are brave. And you are mine, if only in moments like these.”

Her words broke through the darkness in his eyes, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to believe them. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as though she might vanish.

“And you, my love are that and more.” Marcus said with a heavy exhale. “I’ve missed your voice, even your small hands trying to subdue me.”

Julia chuckled, her cheek rested on his chest. No matter how garnished with his valor, she felt his heart thumping beneath her ear and her soul was at peace, her own heart beating with his once again.

“These hands can do a lot more than attack you in a garden.”

But the sound of voices from the atrium reminded them of reality. Marcus pulled back reluctantly, his hand brushing a stray curl from her face.

“We can’t stay,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.

“No,” she agreed, though her heart ached to remain in his embrace. “But we’ll have this.”

He nodded, his lips brushing her forehead before he stepped away, disappearing into the shadows of the garden. Julia remained for a moment longer, her hands trembling as she steeled herself to return to the party.

When she finally reentered the atrium, her gaze found Marcus again. He stood among the crowd, his expression unreadable, but when their eyes met, she saw the truth; the way his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes as he endured the words of praise.

No matter what happened, they would always find each other and she had to take comfort in that if nothing else at all.

The early light of dawn crept into the house of the General, tapping upon Julia’s eyelids as the sky grew the slightest bit brighter and she awoke with a sharp inhale. Her head turned and even as she registered the soft silk sheets she lie in, she still had to make sure Marcus was beside her. To no surprise, he lay there on his back, head slack as it faced her and her heart thrummed at the softness in his expression as his chest slowly rose and fell.

She wondered when he had last slept like this; certainly before he departed in the first place. A soft and tired smile made its way upon her lips and she shuffled herself closer, careful not to wake him as her hand rested upon his chest.

Julia dreamt of moments like these while he was gone. Even while her father tried his hardest to make her into a suitable wife for others, she never stopped thinking of him. She wondered if her father new that, but since his new role as a senator, the hope for freedom in choice was dwindling. His newfound sense of influence had reached its claws into her own life now.

Deep in thought, her eyes had shut again but she felt her General stir beneath her hand and before she knew it, his body enveloped her and pulled her closer to the warmth he emanated.

“I must be dreaming.” Marcus said, voice still raspy from slumber.

A smile crept on her face as she looked up at him, lips pressing against the stubble on his jawline. She felt his muscles pull into a grin and then his face angled down towards hers to meet her lips. Their fullness pushed against hers as his hand slid from her back to her bottom. In the tangle of the cool sheets he lifted her leg over his hip and her entire core tensed.

“It’s not a dream, my love. Nor was the night before.” Julia said breathlessly between kisses.

Even as the cool morning air gusted through the room, the heat that rose in her chest was undeniably creeping up to her cheeks as they lazily kissed each other and pulled each other closer.

“Marcus,” Julia whispered, her breath itching as his fingers slid down to the lips between her legs.

He hummed against her neck where his lips caressed the most sensitive of spots where her pulse met the curve of her shoulder. Her nails dug into his shoulder blade, the other in his hair, and as his fingers slipped inside her entire body arched into him. A small gasp escaped her lips.

“Yes?” he asked slyly, lips finding her own again.

Marcus guided his body atop hers, her back flat across the sheets and fingers still gliding in and out of her. He deepened his motions, a soft moan reverberating through her chest as he retreated them momentarily. The pleasure came in small waves at first.

“Marcus.” Julia whined, her voice firmer now as she looked at the cunning glare to his eyes. But it was then that she realized how his hair sat in different directions from his sleep, and she couldn’t resist her giggle as she looked up at it.

“You mock me? When I have you at my finger tips?”

She gasped with a faux sense of betrayal, watching as him and his hair a mess from bed creeped down her abdomen.

“My love, I would never mock you.” Julia grinned. “Please forgive me— and put your fingers back where they were.”

He looked up at her through his brows, kisses trailing down her abdomen, sending trills of flutters through her spine with every touch. Her head dipped back as she inched her hips closer to him, but his lips did not quite find her core just yet. Instead, they trailed around her thighs, firmly pressing against the space between her thigh and the one spot that yearned for his touch.

“Please, Marcus.” Julia moaned, fingers clawing through his hair.

But his arms wrapped around her thighs, one hand creeping up to her breast and the other finger taunting the wetness that seeped from her, he didn’t budge. He resisted the gentle pull you made in his dark, graying locks of hair.

“Please, what carissima?” He asked, his breath hot against you as his lips neared closer to your throbbing core.

She grinned, chuckling menacingly and interrupting herself with a soft gasp as his fingers played with the folds, nearing dangerously closer to the inside and creating a painful throb to her muscles. The waves of pleasure grew larger, lulling against her soul.

“Must you make me beg? After so long away from you?” Julia groaned, her breasts tender from his movement and pulling her closer.

“I want to know if you still lust for me after my time away.”

“I did. Last night.” She answered in a huff, moaning as lips grew closer to her clit.

“I want to hear it again.” he said, tongue creeping out to where his fingers play.

She felt drenched at his command, her body inching closer and hands wrapped around his hair and his wrist, clutching it so hard it would leave a mark.

“You are such a brute, Marcus.” Julia cried. “Fuck me like I haven’t seen you in a year.” she said with annoyance.

If she could slap him she would, when she felt the grin of his lips against her thigh. But he didn’t fail to deliver to her begging and as his warm tongue met her folds his fingers slipped in as well, and Julia cried out. Her entire will bent at his mouth this very second, the heat rising in her chest as the muscles of her core tightened. In this moment, not a worry outside these walls existed as she grew closer to her climax, the smallest beads of sweat creeping at her temple.

Every stroke of his tongue, every movement of his fingers, was deliberate. He knew her body as well as he knew the battlefield, and he was determined to conquer her completely. Julia’s cries filled the room, her fingers gripping the sheets as her release washed over her like a tidal wave.

“Marcus,” Julia said breathlessly. “Don’t finish me just yet.”

He looked up at her, eyes adoringly lifting as he caught his breath. His fingers still glided through her folds, pushing deeper still, as he looked at her and it was as beautiful as the murals painted in their most prestigious buildings. He was carved from her and in this moment melded into her with every thrust into her.

“Oh, I have no intentions of finishing you here.” Marcus said, pushing himself up on his arms, the muscles gleaming in the early morning light that just barely pierced his windows.

There was a faint disappointment of the feeling at her core dissipating but she was eager for him to truly be inside of her.

He crept up so his face was above hers, her lips slightly parted in the awe at his beauty and the dominance that he bestowed upon her. She felt his cock slowly push up against her, the wetness guiding him in with ease. She moaned, looking into his eyes as dark as the night itself, watching his brows furrow as he pushed himself inside of her.

“You call for me, carrisima.” he said arrogantly, slowly pushing himself in.

“No, you call for me.” Julia said through breaths, pitch high as she wrapped her arms around his back.

He thrust into her, forearm up against the sideline of her head while the other hand became entangled in her hair. Their eyes never left each other and Julia felt alive with every thrust, knowing he was home and he was here once again no matter the secrecy. Nothing could undermine the love she felt for him as especially now as his body towered hers.

“I do call for you.” he grunted, hand pulling at her hair and arching her neck. “Every night I was gone; I counted the days until you were mine again.”

His pace quickened as did her heart beat, a whimper escaping her lips when he came down upon her, burying his face in her neck as he thrust into her. The sweat and the sweet kisses shared between them were not enough, and her legs wrapped around him to pull him in.

She pulled him in, pulling in the feeling of her core tightening with every cry she made upon his neck.

“Oh, Marcus…” Julia breathed. “I’m so close.”

“I know.” he rasped, withdrawing ever so slightly just to see her face. “I know.”

Her walls tightened around him and her legs began to quake, her climax nearing as his cock pushed against her boundaries. She called his name and his lips found hers, the moans passing through the General’s lips reverberating against her own as the climax poured out over him and his poured into her. Her legs relaxed and his body slumped over her, their breaths catching and the silence that filled the room now lingering over them.

“I love you, Julia.” Marcus exhaled, finally pulling his cock from her stiff muscles, leaving behind the warmth that still lingered in her amongst her own.

“And I love you, Marcus.” she smiled, looking at him as the earliest sunlight created a halo around his head.

Her heart ached with the knowledge that this moment, stolen from the chaos of their lives, could not last. Even as they remained tangled in the sheets of his chambers, faces flushed and hearts racing, Julia ran through a list of all the things she had to face once she left his room.

Marcus’s brown eyes softened, a sight not often seen from the hardened General.

“I know that look. What troubles you?” he asked, hand stroking her cheek as she lay her head on his chest.

“It pains me to leave you.”

Marcus kissed her forehead, a simple gesture that made her wish to be confined to this bed forever. But his silence at her confession only made her more wary now and she raised her body to look down on him. It was then that she could sense his own mind deep in thought by the way his eyes averted hers.

“And what troubles you?” Julia asked firmly, leaning her arms on his chest as he held her close.

“Too much for you to bear, my love.” Marcus sighed.

Her brows furrowed, and she scoffed. “I may not be a solider in your army but I am tougher than I look. You know that.”

The way his eyes seemed to find the ceiling and a weight settled on his shoulders, Julia could sense his wavering certainty and it created a sense of doubt within her own mind. Was he going to tell her they couldn’t do this anymore? Had he found someone else abroad? She remained as stoic as stone as her heart started to tear itself apart on mere hypotheticals.

“Have you considered…”Marcus began, “telling your father? His initial disapproval I feel may be changed now.”

Her head tilted, the words not registering at first.

“About us?”

Marcus’s eyes finally met hers and now, she was stumped as he was. It wasn’t a horrible idea upon his return, knowing the twins have offered him much praise in his honor even if it meant little to them. Things were more different than they were at the beginning of their fleeting romance and the prospect of making it real was unfathomable.

She never considered it a real possibility before. She had the luxury of avoiding the reality of her life; the reality of having to marry, the reality of her father as a senator, and more. Her life had been only recently been measured in these moments with Marcus and she never once considered any implications beyond it.

“You would truly want that? My life and yours, bound together even with your coming and going?”

Marcus looked at her like she had struck him. It took her by surprise and even she was surprised, the words not feeling real as they even passed from his lips.

“How could you think I wouldn’t want the rest of my life to be spent with yours?” he asked.

Tears pricked Julia’s eyes and she laughed. A misconceived emotion for the moment she tried to refrain but she laughed again as the tears blurred her vision. They were all stemmed from a joy that blossomed from her chest, one that became overwhelming as she rested her chin on his chest. Her entire body tensed at the thought of an average life with him and the dreams became a momentary reality.

“I will talk to him after the games today.” Julia said, exasperated by the mere thought.

Marcus stroked her hair off her face as she looked up at him. Their bliss was temporary now, but Julia could only dream of a time where it wasn’t—where it could be every day. The love she felt under his gaze was as warm as the sun, and she would risk everything to stay in bask in it longer. But the morning was creeping in and as was the time she was meant to be home. Her cover could only be hid by so many shadows

She dressed quietly, leaving him a dozen more stolen kisses before slipping into the still-silent villa.

The city was stirring by the time she arrived home. Her father was already preparing for the day’s events, servants bustling around him as they made ready for the games.

Julia moved through her morning routine with the ease of someone accustomed to suppressing her emotions, though her mind remained on Marcus—on his touch, his words, the way he had held her as though she were the only thing tethering him to the world. All she could think of was this evening when she could ask her father about the idea of marrying the General. In these times they had to tread carefully with matters such as this and even still, the question was hanging on the tip of her tongue the entire day.

By the time she and her father arrived at the arena, the seats were already filling with Rome’s finest and she was dressed the most beautifully among them. Since becoming Senator, her father has afforded not just staff by those who had become close friends to Julia. Today, he commanded they make her look fit for a princess; it made her wonder if he already knew what she planned to ask today.

The roar of the crowd, eager for blood and glory, echoed across the massive amphitheater. Julia took her place near her father among the other Senators, her seat positioned to reflect her family’s status without drawing undue attention. Across the way, Marcus stood among the other honored soldiers, his crimson cloak catching the sunlight. She could feel him enter the arena without so much as looking his way, but when she did, she found him.

Their eyes met briefly, a fleeting moment that sent warmth through her despite the cold marble beneath her. She offered him a subtle smile—small enough to avoid suspicion but enough for him to see. Marcus’ gaze lingered, his tension visible even from a distance. Flashbacks of their morning and the prior night flashed through her eyes, a ripple running through her at the thought.

It was then that Julia noticed another gaze lingering on her: the piercing, calculating eyes of Geta.

The Emperor’s reclined lazily in their seats, a goblet of wine in hand. His smile was sharp and humorless as he studied her, almost mocking, as though she were another prize to be won in the games below. Julia forced herself to look away, her stomach twisting with unease.

“Lady Julia,” Geta’s voice rang out, cutting through the noise of the crowd.

She was not so easily deflecting.

His tone was pleasant, almost disarming, but there was a cruelty in his eyes that made her blood run cold. A hungry look to them that made her feel exposed.

“Would you do us the honor of presenting the laurel to our champion today?”

The part of the arena of which she sat in fell quiet, every eye turning toward her. Even her father seemed caught off guard, his expression carefully neutral as he inclined his head toward her.

“I would be honored.” Julia choked out, her tone perfectly unfazed.

The pale boy smirked grossly. “Then perhaps you would not mind the view of the games from here instead.”

Julia felt herself pale to the sickly color of him and his brother.

“Go, my dear. It is a great honor.”

It wasn’t so much as an honor as much it was that she didn’t have a choice.

Julia rose slowly, her heart pounding.

The honor of this was true among her new social circle, but anyone who had the slightest ounce of the twins and their antics would not be so easily calmed as a random subject of their amusement.

She felt Marcus’ gaze on her, sharp and protective, but she dared not look his way. Instead, she focused on keeping her steps measured and her expression serene as she ascended the steps to where royalty sat.

His brother, Caracalla laughed maniacally at her arrival and the small monkey upon his shoulder cried to her at the same pitch that made her jump just a little. She bowed to the Emperor’s and she was startled to see Geta’s hand reach out. Politely, she took it as he guided her to a chair brought out for her besides Lucilla who only cast her a warm smile that disappeared as quickly as it flashed upon her face.

Julia’s stomach was spun into knots, so much so it kept her voice trapped deep within as she took a seat. Up above, Marcus sat and she briefly made eye contact with him before turning back to face the fight.

She bore witness to the cruel remarks of the brothers as the fights ensued down below. They offered her a goblet of wine which she gracefully took if it meant she could endure this better.

The crowd roared as the gladiators fought below, their cheers echoing against the massive stone walls of the Colosseum. Julia sat uncomfortably beside Emperor Geta, her back straight and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. The tension in the emperor’s private box was palpable, even as those around them laughed and clapped.

“Do you see that, Lady Julia?” Geta leaned closer, his voice carrying enough volume for others to hear. He gestured toward the arena, where a battered gladiator struggled to stand against his opponent. “He’s weak but refuses to give up. Admirable, isn’t it?”

Julia forced a tight smile, nodding. “Yes, Emperor.”

Geta smirked, clearly unsatisfied with her lackluster response. “Admirable indeed. But tell me, what would you do if you were in his position?” His tone was sharp, a challenge disguised as a casual question.

Julia’s cheeks flushed as the crowd’s attention turned toward her. She could feel Marcus’s eyes on her from where he stood nearby, tension radiating from him.

“Come now, girl,” Geta pressed, his smirk deepening. “You are not shy, are you? Speak up.”

Caracalla chuckled beside her, leaving her more uneasy than she wished.

Julia hesitated, searching for an answer that would satisfy him without betraying her growing discomfort.

“I suppose I would fight until I could no longer stand, as any Roman would.”

Geta laughed loudly, the sound grating. “A brave sentiment from someone who has never lifted a sword.”

And have you lifted a sword in such context, Emperor?

All she could think about was Marcus, a true warrior and honorable man. Perhaps her underlying disdain for the twins was that she witnessed the way they treated him so carelessly. They used him as a weapon of their own and she hated them for it.

The courtiers around them chuckled nervously, but Marcus’s jaw tightened. He watched the emperor’s gaze linger on Julia, the thinly veiled malice in his tone disguised as jest.

“Perhaps,” Geta continued, leaning back in his chair, “we should test that resolve. What do you think, Marcus?” He turned his piercing eyes toward the soldier.

Marcus stiffened but kept his expression neutral. “I think she has answered you wisely, Emperor.”

“Ah, ever the diplomat,” Geta mused, his smirk returning. “But I was hoping for more entertainment. Shall we?”

“Let the tigers out! Rip them limb from limb!” Caracalla cried out.

Julia’s stomach twisted as Geta gestured for one of his attendants, whispering something. Moments later, a young, unarmed slave was ushered into the arena. The crowd fell silent in confusion as a hulking gladiator approached the trembling boy.

“Watch carefully, Julia,” Geta said, his voice dripping with mockery. “This boy is in a position not unlike the one you imagined. Let’s see if he has your resolve.”

Marcus shifted closer to Julia, even as he sat a row behind her she could feel his presence looming in comfort. She flinched at the sight below but forced herself to keep her composure, even as her heart screamed in protest.

As the fight began, Julia clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.

She didn’t look at Geta, but she could feel his gaze on her, drinking in her discomfort like fine wine. Marcus, meanwhile, was seething quietly, his thoughts a storm of anger and helplessness.

Julia didn’t need to look at him to know he hated this as much as she did. For what reason did she need to be singled out today! Her mind couldn’t wrap her head around it; how she became the source of entertainment for the brothers.

A gladiator, bloodied and triumphant, awaited her at the center. Her mind had gone numb to the bloodshed of the slain down below, not even realizing there was a victor now.

Julia took the laurel crown from an attendant, her hands steady despite the weight of the moment. The crowd cheered as she placed the crown on the gladiator’s head, her voice clear as she proclaimed him victorious.

But when she turned to leave, Geta spoke again, his hand raised to stop her in her steps.

“Stay a moment, Lady Julia,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery as his cold fingers lifted her chin. “Let the people see the face of Roman virtue.”

The crowd roared its approval, and Julia felt the heat of humiliation creep up her neck. She stood still, her posture perfect, her expression composed. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

From his place among the honored guests, Marcus gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles white. He was a soldier, trained to remain composed, but every instinct in him screamed to intervene. He knew Geta’s game—the prince was testing her, asserting his dominance in a way that only he could get away with.

Julia endured it, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours before Geta finally waved his hand dismissively. She returned to her seat with her head held high, though her heart raced with the effort of maintaining her composure.

When she finally sat down, she allowed herself a brief glance toward Marcus. His expression was stormy, his jaw tight, but when their eyes met, his gaze softened. In that moment, she knew he saw her strength, and it was enough to soothe the lingering ache of Geta’s scrutiny.

The arena emptied and she reluctantly slipped away under the guise of her father, walking among the Senators and their daughters who she blended in with ease. Her heart was racing, pumping blood to her ears so that she could not hear a word outside of the ringing it brought.

Perhaps her dream, the one her and Marcus shared merely this morning, would have to be delayed.

As Julia followed in the trail of the Emperor’s circle, a hand brushed by her own.

She nearly jolted away from the touch, suspicious of the twins and if one of them had lingered behind, but much to her relief, she briefly glanced over to see Marcus.

She didn’t have to fully turn her head to recognize his armor, the way he stood tall over her and the slightest grays to his dark head of hair. Even if unnoticed by others, the simple brush of his hard knuckles across her own was enough to keep her worst fears at bay and know that he was close.

Whatever the Emperor had planned, she was determined to tell her father tonight where her heart truly lied.

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Please let me know if this sucks or not thank you <3

#marcus acacius #marcus acacias x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emeperor geta

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darknessisafriend · 3 days ago

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Everything will be okay - Commodus x you

Here's some Commodus piece! right in time as Gladiator II is out. I started writing this imagine a while ago, in August which was a particularly rough time where I lost my grandpa, I needed to write about it, but it took time, time to start grieving as well. (so obviously TW death)

I dedicate this writing to my grandpa and anyone who faced or is facing the hardship of losing a loved one. Everything will be okay loves ❤️

Everything will be okay

You were taking care of flowers in the imperial garden; you had chased slaves and gardeners wanting to help you out. Your face was puffy and red, your eyes swollen and a headache splitting your skull. You were trying to keep your mind distracted, away from the brutal shock of the news, the pain filling your whole being. The blank state of your mind was soon interrupted by a rumbling of armors and quick steps, your heartbeat quickening, you knew who it was.

“Leave!” ordered the voice of Commodus, your husband, making any person leave the gardens, even his praetorians. Before you turned around his strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart going wilder, your eyes turning watery, unable to say anything, you bit your trembling lower lip.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” he breathed, pain filled his voice too, as if anything that affected you, touched him too. He gently turned you around in his arms, cupping your face to meet your eyes. The moment he did, you let out a strangled sob, tears escaping your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him, desperately trying to suppress the pain as your tears wet his chest plate. Commodus let go of you, undoing the laces of his armor, briefly parting from you to take it off and just as quickly as you parted, his arms were around you again. This time you could feel his reassuring warmth, his quick breathing, and that is all you needed in that moment. Commodus remained silent; he knew there were no words enough to express the comfort he wanted to give you, how much he wanted your pain to go away, take it all so you could smile again.

“I planted new flowers, Damascus Roses, I…sorry for disturbing your day…” you spoke after some, time, parting from him to pick a few leaves from plants, a way to distract yourself, trying to stop crying. Your husband approached, resting his hand on the small of your back, understanding.

“They are truly beautiful; I have no doubt they shall blossom soon. And you did not disturb me, you are always my priority.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. You looked down at the leaves between your fingers, tearing them into small pieces.

“I never expected father to die so soon…he was healthy…I used to say he would live close to a hundred years old…and now…” you then spoke, silent tears streaming down your cheeks “I couldn’t even see him…talk to him…one last time…I had so much to say…so many hugs to give…” you sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek, wanting to stop crying, but you couldn’t, the pain was too immense.

“Y/N. He knows you loved him dearly; I have seen you send him the letters; you have done your best. But the gods…decided to call him to their side as he was worthy of them…please do not hurt yourself with these thoughts…” he tried, his hand keeping on rubbing your back soothingly, guiding you to a marble bench to sit. You instantly leaned against him, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I know how you feel. I had a different relationship with my father but for so long, I craved to hug him, to speak about how I felt, to tell him how much I loved him and what I would be ready to do for him…yet I never really could, only when I lost him, I let it all out and it was too late. But you my love, you have been a good daughter, I am sure that from the Underworld he smiles at you.” He soke softly, his eyes wet, sharing your pain, your distress.

“In my religion, there is no underworld, but Heaven and Hell...I hope he is in Heaven; it is similar to what you call the Elysian Fields.” You explained between sniffles “He deserves to be in peace, he was always good to us and trusted you blindly without even knowing you really.” You smiled through tears. “I wish you had met him; he would have liked you…” your voice shook again, struggling to speak those words. Commodus looked down, swallowing his saliva, his other hand reaching for yours, his fingertips playing with your wedding ring.

“It is not too late to pay my respects to him. I could…Y/N just say the word I will bring back his body to you.” He let out, taken by passion as always, unafraid of the challenges he could face. “I can bring him to you so you can embrace him one last time, bury him as your beliefs requires.”

You turned your head to him; not sure you had heard correctly. You met his eyes; he was terribly serious. He was offering you a way to grieve, to make your peace. You pinched your lips together, searching his eyes, amazed by the man you had the luck to call your husband.

“Say the word Y/N. You only need to command, and I shall be your hand.” he said again, confirming his intentions, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it devotedly. You swallowed down, torn, in this hard moment you wished for Commodus to remain by your side, yet to bring back the one you lost eased your spirit, a final goodbye.

“Bring him back to me, my love…” you finally managed to say “Please…” you whimpered, your hand cupping his cheek briefly, sorry to make him leave. And even if his eyes showed signs of yearning, he spoke none of it and stood, placing himself in front of you before kneeling, putting his fist on his heart.

“Your word is my command.” He vowed, looking at you determined, taking your hand and kissing it with equal devotion. “I leave the Empire in your capable hands my love. I will bring back your father.” He promised, and stood, turning away, calling his scribes and guards, giving instructions as he put his armor back on, ready to ride to Gaul to get your father’s body. He instructed that a priest had the body to be embalmed or preserved until he arrived so he could process to the roman rituals for the dead to allow the soul to pass and not remain wandering in the mortal world. He instructed as well that word doesn’t come out that he left Rome, for your safety; to pretend he was sick and that in the meantime his wife assisted by his counselors would rule.

And just as fast as he had arrived by your side, Commodus had left, it would take about a week or a little more. Thankfully as Commodus had left, you inherited most of his workload, drowning yourself into letters he received, papers from the Senate and more. It distracted you, to the point you worked yourself to exhaustion, otherwise when night came you would cry yourself to sleep, it was normal after all but in those moments, you missed Commodus’ comfort more than ever.

As days passed you grew anxious, where was Commodus? Did he manage to obtain your father’s body? In which state? Would he even be able to bring him back? You stared at the sleeping city from your balcony, your tired eyes looking out for any movement, any singular event…

“Your majesty.” You were startled by a knock on your door, in the middle of the night, it was rather unexpected and even worrying. No one woke the lords in the middle of the night unless it was extremely urgent. Your pulse instantly quickened at that thought. You rushed to the door to open it, not bothering to cover yourself.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your eyes traveling between your chambermaid and the messenger, looking for any clues of bad news. The messenger bowed, averting his eyes at your light clothing.

“Forgive my presence so late in the night, highness. But I was required to reach you as soon as possible and by any means from the Emperor himself.” He apologized, your heart skipping a beat, your hands rolling into fists anxiously. “The Emperor is on his way to the palace, he should reach you before dawn. And whishes to inform you that he brings back your father with him.” He announced, slightly widening his eyes as you froze, your eyes glassy and tears starting to escape. Your chambermaid sent the messenger away, grabbing a warm shawl to cover your shoulders as you walked outside of the sleeping quarters. You couldn’t rest, you couldn’t stand still for as long as Commodus wasn’t standing in front of you.

And for what seemed like endless hours, you paced restlessly in the halls of the palace, your mind imagining the moment you would see your father, what state was he in? would you lose all sanity at the sight?

From afar you could hear the rapid footsteps of a dozen horses, so you rushed to the entrance of the inner court, ordering the doors to be opened. The group instantly entered, each carrying torches, except for one, Commodus, his horse was dragging a tiny carriage and on it…a silhouette, wrapped entirely in linens…your father.

“Y/N” you barely heard him call your name as he stopped close to you. Your eyes were fixed onto the cadaver of your father, your heart pumping into your ears, your body frozen in place, scared to approach, scared to touch the icy skin, scared to lift the veil and see his face…

“Y/N.” repeated Commodus louder, as he got off his horse, nearly collapsing on his knees in front of you, his fist on his heart, he caught your gaze to make you look at him. “I brought your father to you…I thank the gods proper care was done to preserve his body. Do not fear to lift the veil as he seems to be only sleeping.” He spoke with confidence to reassure you, it had to be done, to help you grieve properly.

“Thank you...” you murmured, your lower lip trembling as tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision almost entirely. Commodus stood up and came to stand by your side, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he made you approach the corpse.

“I am here. Do not be afraid.” He murmured, licking his lips almost nervously as he tried to do a cross sign to accustom your beliefs and respect your father as well. Then, he approached his hands, carefully uncovering the face of your father. It was like sleeping as he described…but more pale, quieter…at least you were glad to notice his face didn’t show any traces of suffering.

“He didn’t suffer, the healers told me he was gone in his sleep.” Informed Commodus as if he had read your thoughts. He took a step back to allow you to come closer, your hands trembled and your heartbeat so fast that you felt breathless. This was real, he was really dead in front of you and yet it felt surreal, like a nightmare you would wake up from.

“Papa...” you cried out, your hand going to brush over his gray hair, soothingly caressing them. “I am so sorry…so sorry we couldn’t talk one last time…sorry I couldn’t hug you…sorry I couldn’t be there...” you sobbed, tears falling on his burial shirt.

You stayed there for an hour, maybe more, touching him gently, speaking to him; during that time, Commodus remained standing by your side, ordering a few things to his praetorians so you two were left alone in that painful moment. As your eyes had no tears left, a headache splitting your skull, you turned to your husband, throwing yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest, his tunic absorbing the wetness of your face as he squeezed you tight, kissing the top of your head, soothing you the best he could for long minutes.

“I have ordered my praetorians to fetch a Christian priest. We will have him buried in their cemetery if you wish.” He spoke quietly. You squeezed your eyes shut, moved by his care “Thank you...” you murmured against his chest before lifting your head to look at him. Only then you noticed the bags under his eyes, the dust covering his skin and clothes, his shoulders weren’t as straight as usual, he was exhausted, probably pushing through his limits to remain standing; he had been so fast, he had surely ridden days and nights, without truly resting. That was something you had always loved with Commodus and yet it also worried you; when he had an idea in mind, he would lose sleep and hunger until he had reached his goal.

“We should go prepare for the burial, you could rest a bit, my love…” you murmured tenderly, so thankful he was there for you, so thankful you he had chosen you as his wife. You headed with your husband to your private quarters, taking hold of his hand, a comfortable silence between you.

“Bring me a warm water basin, and the necessary to wash. Also, black clothing for the emperor.” You ordered your chambermaid and removed his armor piece by piece, dust flying all around the room, the scent of sweat reaching your nose. You threw away his under-armor tunic and undergarments as well.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this…” protested Commodus, as he understood your plan. Not wanted to be a burden on your heavy spirits already.

“You brought my father back to me, all the way from Gaul to here.” You simply replied, dampening the washing cloth in the warm scented water “Besides, it distracts me. I need to think about something else for a bit, clear my mind.” You added softly, your eyes burning from too much crying every time you blinked.

“How could I face you again if I didn’t even have the time nor will to do this for you? I couldn’t bear it…then, I wanted to meet him properly.” He spoke softly as you washed his feet, soundly exhaling in relief, his muscles relaxing.

“Circumstance could have been better. But yes, he would have liked you, I think… He deeply valued ambition. He used to say I deserved a man who knew what he wanted and who wanted to reach the sky to provide me and my future children the best life.” You smiled softly as you thought of him, yes, he would have liked him. “Look at your hands my love...” you commented, referring to how callous they had gotten but especially the small cuts he had on his palms from squeezing the reins as he rode.

“Can you tell me what he was like? What kind of man? I know things of course from public knowledge but you know better.” He replied, letting you apply oil on his palms.

“He was such a clever man, a scholar from the beginning. He read much, Greek classists, some Roman ones too. He always said that you couldn’t understand the world you live in and its future without understanding the victories and defeats of the past. He was very strategic in his decisions; he had that broad vision over things…he would have been an excellent counselor to you or would have enjoyed debating with you...” you chuckled nostalgic, grabbing a dry cloth to dry his skin.

“So that is where your sharp mind comes from when talking politics hm?” you heard the smile in his voice, trying to cheer you up “Wrapped in the sweetness of your mother. Any emperor around the world would bend the knee.” He cooed as you looked up, gently cupping your face and kissing your forehead protectively. “I would have been deeply honored to discuss with him.” You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him more, your face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, that was so calm and steady even after that exhausting trip, it soothed you too, everything will be okay.

“Now, if you are ready, let’s accompany your father to his eternal resting place. Let us not keep the gods...your God waiting.” Commodus spoke softly, a little encouraging smile, telling you he would always be there.

Tag list:

@skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic

@buttergirlie @rosebloodstuffandthangsss @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria @just-a-fucking-comedy @lady-carnivals-stuff @sierraclegane @lemondedeniname @hvproductions @syvellsworld @papercut-paranoia @jokerflecker @bring-your-holy-water @five-miles-over @beatlebabe1996 @kfanniart @soulsfrostedheart18 @mayflower-gal @creativestorylove

#joaquin phoenix #commodus imagine #commodus x reader #emperor commodus #commodus x you

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sqoa · 30 days ago

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toji zenin, who has only stayed with the zenin clan because he just can’t give up the sweet pussy of his personal servant—you.

because you don’t adhere to the strict rules given to the servants. and you can’t bring yourself to care about them either.

because why should you wake toji up by parting his window shutters and letting the sun stir him awake, when you could rouse him from sleep with your lips wrapped around his cock instead? you’re sure he prefers waking to the warmth of your throat, delicate eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you take his length to the base.

his hand, even in his half-asleep state, reaching down to push you even further on his cock until he can feel the back of your throat and your nose is tickled by his dark pubes. because there’s no better alarm sound than that of you gagging on his cock as you swallow the load he gifts you.

and how could he bring himself to leave when he has you at his beck and call at all times? all he has to do is shoot you a look from across the room and you’re ducking out to meet him in a quiet corridor or empty room so he can hike up your robes and drop to his knees to return the mornings favour. sure, he’s a selfish man, but he’s greedy and indulgent when it comes to tasting you.

you always try to be quiet when cumming on his tongue but you never succeed, and toji loves it. he loves knowing the assholes in his clan hear it every time he sinks into you, because you’re moaning his name so pretty that any lesser man would cum as soon as you tighten around his pulsing cock. he loves knowing every time you serve him in their presence they’re only imagining the way you serve him with your cunt behind closed doors.

god, he doesn’t even care to close the door half the time. too many times has a clan elder walked in to see you, pressed up against the wall as toji fucks you from behind with fast strokes and drawling groans. and he never stops, never slows down or even bothers to care about an unwelcome audience—because you never care. you serve him, not them, and if worrying about prying eyes takes from your duties—you’d rather take his affections in stride.

because you are his in every aspect of the word. you serve him hand and foot, you take his cock into your mouth each morning, you let him fuck you full of his cum each evening, you turn his scowl into a gentle smile with each kiss you lay upon his lips. your heart is his, and his yours.

and one morning before the sun has risen to find toji in the servants chambers, his lips patched around your clit and two fingers already pumping into you. he plays the servant, and wakes you for once. you cum not once, but twice around his fingers, back arching as pleasure washes you clean. and as he pulls away with a glistening lower half of his face and presses the most gentle kiss to your inner thigh, he whispers something that changes the course of your life entirely.

“let’s get the fuck outta here, whaddya’ think, dollface?”

#toji smut #toji x reader #toji zenin smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin

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d1stalker · 3 months ago

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A Peaceful Repose [Logan Howlett]

Summary: After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you

Warnings: clingy logan, showering together, sooo much fluff WC: 1.6k - MASTERLIST

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The door of your apartment slowly creaks open, followed by the sound of a familiar, heavy tread against the wooden floor. Your heart skips a beat, in both relief and excitement—Logan’s back.

But as he steps into the room, the sight of him makes you pause. He looks every bit as exhausted as you imagined, but it’s more than that. His clothes are torn and stained with dirt and dried blood, and a faint, musty smell of sweat and grime clings to him. His normally fierce gaze is dulled with fatigue, and the well-kept scruff on his face has grown wilder, more unkempt.

Your nose wrinkles slightly as you take in the full picture. “Logan…” you start, hesitating as he drops his bag on the floor with a loud thud. He catches your expression, and despite everything, he smirks, though it’s softer than usual, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and rough, but filled with a warmth that makes your heart swell.

“I missed you too,” you reply, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He reaches out, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close despite the state he’s in. The embrace is tight, almost desperate, and you feel the stiffness in his muscles, the way his body seems to sag against yours, as if holding you is the only thing keeping him upright. And as much as you want to melt into him, as much as you want to rest your head on his shoulder and breathe in his scent, the feel of the grit against your skin pulls you back.

“Logan, you need a shower.” Your voice gently chides as you lean back to look up at him, your hands smoothing over his chest before you brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, your fingers grazing the sweat-dampened strands.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest as he holds you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “I just wanna hold you,” he grumbles, his face nuzzling into your hair.

You tilt your head back a bit, giving him a fond, but pointed look. “Not like this, you don’t,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek before wrinkling your nose again. “Seriously, babe, you stink.”

His mouth quirks into a tired, yet genuine smile, a rare sight that always makes your heart flutter. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he mutters, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

“Go on,” you urge, giving him a gentle nudge toward the washroom.

But Logan doesn’t move right away. Instead, he gives you a look, one that’s almost boyish in its vulnerability. “Can you come with me?” he asks, almost begging. “I’ve missed you… a lot.”

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes seem to plead with you, makes it impossible to refuse. You sigh, pretending to be more exasperated than you are, but the truth is, you’ve missed him just as much. “Alright, alright,” you relent, rolling your eyes playfully. “We’ll get cleaned up.”

A hint of relief washes over his features as he takes your hand, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him toward the bathroom. Once inside, you turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the steam begins to rise around you.

You turn to face him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” you say softly, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

His hands cover yours, guiding them as he helps you pull the fabric over his head, his gaze never leaving your face. You can’t help but notice the remnants of bruises and cuts scattered across his body, and your heart aches to see him like this, knowing the toll the mission must have taken on him.

When he’s finally undressed, you shed your clothes quickly and step into the shower. Logan wraps his arms around your waist as he presses his forehead against yours, eyes closing as he takes in the moment.

The warm water cascades over both of you, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, each breath syncing with your own. There’s a stillness between you, a moment suspended in time where nothing else exists but the two of you.

“God, I missed this,” he murmurs affectionately, gazing down at you with a quiet longing.

“Me too,” you echo your voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy of the moment. You reach for the soap, lathering it between your hands, the bubbles forming quickly as the scent of fresh citrus fills the air.

Logan watches you with an almost reverent expression as you begin to work the soap across his chest, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles. His skin, though scarred and battered, is warm beneath your touch, the tension slowly melting away under the soothing rhythm of your hands.

He lets out a low, contented hum as you wash him, his eyes slipping closed as he leans into your touch. “That feels good,” he breathes, the words rumbling through his chest.

You smile quietly, taking your time as you work your way across his torso, roaming every inch of him. When you reach his shoulders, you pause, stepping a little closer so you can run your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp.

The sound he lets out is almost a groan, and you can feel his body relax even further as your fingers work through the tangles in his hair. You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s a lazy, unhurried gesture, one that speaks of comfort, and Logan responds immediately, turning his head slightly to capture your lips.

The kiss is slow, achingly slow, devoid of the usual urgency or passion, but instead filled with something deeper—love, trust, and a profound sense of belonging. His lips are warm and soft against yours, and you find yourself sighing at the familiar taste of him.

When you finally pull back, your breath mingles with his, and he opens his eyes to meet yours. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands slide from your waist up to your back, pulling you so close into his orbit that there’s no space left between you. He holds you like this, his chin resting on the top of your head as the water continues to pour over both of you. It’s not about desire, but rather a need to feel you close, to reassure himself that you’re here, safe and sound in his arms.

You continue to wash him, your hands moving slowly and gently over his body, lathering his hair with care as the water rinses away the grime of the mission. Every so often, Logan presses a soft kiss to your forehead or the top of your head, small gestures of affection that make your heart ache with how much you love him.

As you wash the soap from his hair, you reach up to run your fingers through it one last time, making sure it’s clean. You notice his eyes are half-closed as his head begins to droop down toward your shoulder.

“You’re going to fall asleep standing up,” you tease gently, running your hands down his chest before stepping back to grab the showerhead, directing the water over his shoulders and back.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs thickly with drowsiness. “You’ve got magic hands.”

After you’ve both rinsed off, you turn off the shower and reach for a towel, wrapping it around yourself before grabbing one for Logan. He takes it from you with a small, grateful smile, quickly drying off before he wraps the towel around his waist. But before you can do the same, he brings you into his arms again, his damp skin cool against yours as he holds you close.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft as he leads you towards the bed. He pulls back the covers, and the two of you climb in, still damp from the shower. Logan pulls you close, his strong arms encircling you as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck.

The scent of fresh soap and clean skin fills the air, and you can feel the last bits of tension leaving his body as he settles into the bed, his breathing evening out as the warmth of your embrace soothes him.

“You’re warm,” he mumbles.

“So are you,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Your fingers trace soothing circles on his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Logan hums in satisfaction, his arms tightening around you as he presses closer.

“You’re my everything,” he whispers.

You turn in his arms so you can face him, your hand resting against his chest. “And you’re mine,” you whisper back, your thumb brushing over his heart in a slow, soothing motion.

In the quiet of the room, the only sound is the steady rhythm of Logan’s breathing and the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your hand. You feel completely safe, completely loved, wrapped up in his arms, and you know that he feels the same.

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you hear is his voice, low and filled with affection. “Don’t ever leave me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Never,” you assure. “I’ll always be here.”

Logan lets out a deep, contented sigh, pressing a final kiss to your temple. And as the warmth of his embrace lulls you into sleep, you can’t help but think about how you were always meant to be here, by his side.

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s0dium · 5 months ago

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Obsession

Warning: Love drunk men, fingering, titty sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, love drunk reader

Love courses through your veins. He’s all you can think about.

You wonder if it's normal to be this enamored with someone, to be this hopelessly head over heels infatuated and obsessed. You can't even focus on what needs to be done anymore because he's absorbed your entire being; he's in your head when you wake up, a gentle whisper in the back of your mind during conversations, a constant in your dreams, day or night.

But it's a doomed one-sided crush you remind yourself. You're not even sure if he knows you exist and in quieter moments, you wonder if perhaps it’s better this way. Loving from a distance means you never have to face the potential heartbreak of rejection, never have to see that polite smile of someone who doesn’t return your feelings. It's safer, you tell yourself, to admire him from afar, keeping your heart guarded behind the shield of daydreams and what-ifs.

So surely, right now in this moment, you must be dreaming.

It feels too vivid, too intense to be just a figment of your imagination. The warmth of his breath against your cheek, the weight of his bare body pressing gently down on yours, the softness of his lips moving against your own with an insatiable hunger—it all feels astonishingly real.

Because it is.

You don't know how but now you're naked underneath him, letting him touch, grope, suck, kiss, nip, and bite anything his hands and mouth can find. He doesn't let up either, he's exploring your body like a starved man, like he'll never get a chance to touch you ever again and wont pull away until he's had his fill.

You gasp when you feel his fingers between your legs, tracing your inner thigh before gliding between your pussy lips. Instinctively, you jerk back at the feeling; his fingers collecting your arousal and sliding up and down. But before you can speak, he kisses you again, his tongue eagerly intertwining with yours. When he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless, a thin strand of saliva connects your mouths.

"Just let me take care of you okay?" He hums before dipping two fingers into your tight hole. "Just been waiting so long to do this."

You don't even have time to react before he's curling his digits and massaging a sweet spot you could only dream about hitting on your own. His other hand gropes your left breast and with his index and thumb, begins to play with your perky nipples. As if that wasn't enough, his mouth found your other breast and gave it the same attention, licking sucking, and rolling your nipple like it was candy.

Colors dance across your closed eyelids and you wonder if this is heaven, if you've died and reached nirvana because the pleasure is just that good. You dont know if you can handle this, handle the fact that he's sucking and playing with your nipples while finger fucking you. Your toes curl and uncurl from the hot searing euphoria that is absorbing your body and emitting from your core. Your back arches off the bed and your crying his name, moaning it even, something you only dreamed about doing late at night when you craved him.

Suddenly, his mouth releases your nipple with a pop and he ceases all of his ministrations, leaving you breathless and confused.

"Fuck, I-" He's breathless himself, his face flushed and pupils blown. "Need to be inside you, need to feel you." He practically groans, and you thickly gulp at his words. Your brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his abdomen after being released from its confines.

He watches you lay down on the bed, breasts and cunt glistening from juices. You dont know this but he actually thinks he is dreaming. You look like a painting right now and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from spilling just at the sight of you.

"Please," You whine, "Please fuck me."

Who is he to deny you?

Without a word he presses his tip against your entrance and slides into you, grunting at the snug fit of your walls. You let out a loud moan from the feeling of him filling you so so perfectly, so well you mentally curse yourself for thinking a dildo or your fingers could ever do the job.

Then with a moan of his own, he slides out of you, nearly leaving you empty, before rocking himself back into you. Oh, how he wanted to fuck you slow and nice, like you deserved, but as the seconds passed, his resolve seep away until he just couldn't possibly hold back anymore.

His thrusts become faster, quicker, slamming in and out of you with such vigor and ease due to your combined juices coating and dripping from both his length and your hole. The friction is delicious, and his tip seems to hit your g-spot perfectly with each thrust. He even grabs the underside of your thigh and pushes them against you, effectively folding you and half and allowing him to go even deeper inside you.

You could feel your rational slipping away as he groaned about how fucking good you felt, about how good you where taking him, how he had been dreaming about this. You want to say something too, say something about how you feel the same way, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth right now is wanton moans of his name.

The pleasure was becoming too much, it had been slowly building and building and you know your about to break any second, burst with such euphoria you don't know if you will ever come back from the high. Before you do though, your brain manages to work again for half a millisecond to express the exact words you are feeling.

"Love you! M'love you so much!" You gasped before letting yourself succumb to the mind-numbing orgasm that was waiting for you. Your whole body shook and quaked from the pleasure and your mind went white. You thought you might cry, from happiness or pleasure you did not know. But you didn't. You simply went limp while you let him use your body like a sex doll.

You are barely clinging onto consciousness when you feel his hips stutter against you and he scoops you up, holding you close while he cums inside you.

"Love you too, love you too." He groans against your ear.

Any character you want ;)

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」

aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“bwah!” a nudge.

“myah!” a shove.

and then—

“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.

“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.

and it was the baby—his baby.

your giggles filled the air in response.

“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”

the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.

you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”

a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”

“heav—pfft—”

“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”

“wha—no! that’s team effort!”

“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.

“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”

“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”

“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”

“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”

“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”

later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”

satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.

knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.

you really do love him, don’t you?

“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.

“satoru.”

“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—

you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”

“…?!”

for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.

“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.

“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”

. . .

safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.

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bookishdreamer28 · 10 months ago

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Height difference

Idk Mattheos actual height but let's imagine he's really tall here ✨ I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

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pseudowho · 7 months ago

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The Wristwatch

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You had not known you were Nanami Kento's girl, until the Wristwatch Incident.

In truth, your affection had been brewing so slowly, you had not known if you were imagining it.

You had not realised you were in love with Kento, until he leaned in close, and you smelled the smoky, wood-rich warmth of him. Until you found yourself nursing stomach-dropping disappointment, if your phone pinged and it wasn't him. Until you woke up in cold sweats, the memory of the dream of his skin on yours so vivid that your heartbeat throbbed between your legs.

You couldn't accept it. It couldn't be love, when he did not love you back. And yet...that intoxicating dance continued, while your head dipped in denial...blinkered.

The extra coffee that would be slid over the desk to you, by a strong, gentle hand. The late night phonecalls, decompressing from the stress of your missions. The occasional dinner in each others' company, because, well...we both need to eat? Why not eat together?

You were afraid to label it; afraid to lose the soft skirting intimacy that you had. Nanami Kento was a hard man to gauge; alternately sincere and distant, warm and cool, closely familiar and objectively analytical. He kept you at arms' length; close enough to brush fingertips, but far enough that you could run...if you wanted. And you never did.

You had gone shopping, together, one balmy spring afternoon. You both needed new clothes...so why not together? It makes sense, really. Nothing else in it, I'm sure. Just friends. He doesn't feel that way about me, anyway.

He had insisted upon Ginza Shopping Mall. You balked at the exquisitely-expensive-upmarketness of it, but you could never deny him, for fear of losing this time together. You had perused for new earrings, your belly clenching at the many zeroes on every pricetag. He had ambled over to another counter, just browsing, and there for quite some time.

"See anything you like?" That deep-roast voice broke you out of your reverie. You looked up, into twinkling hazel eyes, and blushed. Yes, you. One of you, Kento, please and thank you.

"No," you scoffed, turning your back on the jewellery, and walking towards the shop door, "too cheap for me. I couldn't possibly be seen wearing them."

Kento laughed, slipping a box into his pocket, and walking just close enough to send your brain into a spiral. You barely functioned through lunch. Kento remained, as ever, a gentleman.

As he drove you to your door, and you bid him a flustered goodnight, you felt that same big, warm hand on your arm, holding you back to him.

"Wait," Kento insisted, "I have...something. For you. Open it when you're home." He pressed a smooth, embossed box into your hands. You could not see what it was, under the glossy paper sleeve. You opened your mouth to chastise Kento, and he interrupted smoothly.

"It's your birthday soon. Consider it an early gift. You couldn't possibly refuse...?" One raised, fine eyebrow. That cool, impassive gaze. You pouted. Sneaky old goat.

"Alright. You win this time, Kento...but I'll get you back," you had promised. He had simply smiled indulgently, stepped out to open your door, and watched you until you were inside.

With trembling hands, you slid the smooth paper cover off the box, and your stomach somersaulted.

Tag Heuer.

"No...Kento-- you didn't," you hushed to yourself, rushing to open the box.

You fumbled an exquisite silver, blue-faced women's watch out of the box. It seemed, somehow, familiar. You couldn't possibly. You knew the pricetag on these. Even the packaging was too expensive for you.

With one hand over your mouth and a pounding little heart, you sent Kento a text with shaky hands;

Nanami Kento. Absolutely not. Take it back.

A few anxious minutes, pacing, looking at the watch resting on the table and gasping each time. Three small dot dot dots...dot dot dots...and a response.

Sorry. Lost the receipt. It will look good on you.

Squeaking and grinning to yourself, you tried the watch on. You took it off. You paced. You tried it on again. You fell back onto your bed, legs kicking, and hands over your face.

Every further refusal you send to Kento, was flatly ignored. He left you on read all night.

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The next day, at work, you couldn't help but notice the looks you were receiving. They weren't bad looks, certainly, more...surprise? Happy acceptance? Knowing smiles? Each person the same; glancing to your watch, eyebrows raising, and searching your face with a grin. You didn't understand it.

Over lunch, Shoko reached over to you, a coffee in her other hand, and tapped the new watch on your wrist.

"Couples' watches now, hmm?" She smirked. You frowned, questioning. Shoko scoffed at you, as if you were playing coy, when you didn't even know the rules of the game. Shoko's smile didn't falter once.

You confronted Kento later that afternoon, dragging him into a dusty narrow corridor, and holding the watch up to him with fighting eyes.

Kento's heart burst with pride, biting his lip with a sly smile, and taking your wristwatched hand in his own. He tipped your arm back and forth, admiring the watch on your wrist from all angles, with a lovesick sigh. You suddenly recalled, with flushed cheeks, where you had seen such a similar wristwatch before.

Kento watched your mental gymnastics with a slowly growing smile. You almost caught on fire as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Wondered how long you'd take to notice," Kento rumbled, eyed closed and nuzzling his nose against your fingers, "that you're my girl. And always have been."

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #pseudowho #nanami fluff #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami x y/n #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you

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mononijikayu · 26 days ago

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pillowtalk — fushiguro toji.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out. “Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?” The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, rough sex, breeding kink, overstimulation, body praise, kissing, p-i-v sex, fingering, pet names (baby, babe, wife, mama, etc), profanity, love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, slice of life, domestic life, family, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: i think about how mamaguro was taken too soon from toji and megumi and how maybe they were thinking about wanting another kid and just how domestic their life was. i like to think about toji!househusband too fr. like if there was a character that could be the way of the househusband, it would be fushiguro toji, thank you. thank you for listening to my tedtalk!!! anyway, i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip!

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HIS LIFE NOW WAS A FAR CRY FROM HIS OLD LIFE. Toji Fushiguro never thought he'd find peace, much less happiness. His life had been a series of battles, betrayals, and constant survival. But then you came along, softening the sharp edges of his world, bringing warmth where there had only been cold.

He remembers the day he first saw you. It was as if the world had found itself in a tailspin and he was in it. His world changed when you came into his life. Everything felt like it was worth finding wonder in.

With how you looked at him with eyes full of understanding, tenderness. There was nothing of pity or grievance. There was always warmth. Warmth he didn't think he would ever deserve. Somehow, you'd seen something in him worth saving, something worth loving.

You gave him a family, a real family—not just in the blood that runs through his veins but in the small, everyday moments that fill the spaces between. You gave him everything he could ever want. Everything that he thought could only be achieved in dreams.

Mornings over coffee, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, your laugh echoing softly through the room. The gentle way you cradle your son, Megumi, in your arms, whispering stories to him with a voice so full of love it makes Toji’s chest ache in the best possible way.

Every time he looks at Megumi, he feels a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it almost brings him to his knees. Your son has his eyes, that piercing gaze that cuts through the nonsense of the world, but he has your smile, that Toji was sure of. He was just as much happy about it too.

When he looked at Megumi, he could find that small, quiet curve that seems to promise the universe that all will be well. It was waiting for him on his son's beautiful face as much as it was on your own beautiful lips.

Fushiguro Toji never thought he’d care so much about something so trivial, but here he is, caring more than he ever imagined possible. His son's smile brought him as much joy to see as it does when you too smile at him.d

He watches Megumi toddling around the living room, his tiny hands grasping at the air as he learns to walk, determination etched on his face. Toji's heart swells with a fierce kind of pride.

In moments like these, he understands what people mean when they talk about the best things in life. It’s not the money, the power, or the next fight to win. It’s his son’s first steps, the weight of your hand in his, the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing beside him at night.

You've given him a home—not just a house with walls and a roof but a place where he feels like he belongs, where he isn't running from shadows or haunted by the ghosts of his past. A place where, for the first time in his life, he feels like he deserves to stay.

Toji never thought he’d be here, never thought he’d be the kind of man who could love so deeply, who could feel so much. But you changed that. You changed everything. And as he stands there, watching Megumi, he knows that this right here, right now is the happiest he’s ever been.

Toji’s gaze shifts from Megumi to you, who are quietly watching the two of them with a serene smile. Your presence brings a calm to the chaos that once defined his life. The way you hold Megumi’s tiny hand as he wobbles toward you, the soft encouragement in your voice, it all creates a sanctuary that Toji never thought he’d find.

In the evenings, when the world quiets down and the house is bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, Toji often finds himself reflecting on how far he’s come. He thinks about the days when his future seemed so uncertain, when the idea of a family felt like an impossible dream. Now, every moment spent with you and Megumi feels like a precious gift, a beautiful reality he’d only dared to hope for.

As Megumi eventually collapses into a giggling heap on the floor, Toji chuckles softly. You come over and join them, your laughter mingling with his as you all enjoy the simple joy of being together.

Toji sits back and watches, his heart full. He thinks about the sacrifices he’s made and the battles he fought. Each scar, each hard-earned lesson, has led him to this moment—the sweetest victory of all.

In the quiet moments, when it’s just the three of you, Toji often finds himself lost in thought. He marvels at how you’ve created a life filled with warmth and love, and how Megumi is growing up surrounded by everything he never had.

He realizes that his past, with all its pain and darkness, was worth it for the chance to build this future with you. He feels a profound sense of gratitude, not just for what you’ve given him, but for the strength and resilience you’ve shown in building this family together.

When he tucks Megumi into bed at night, he’s reminded of the importance of the little rituals. The way Megumi’s eyes flutter closed as Toji reads him a bedtime story, the way he clings to the small toy you both picked out together, and the peaceful sigh he gives as he drifts off to sleep. Toji knows that these moments are fleeting, but they are precious.

As he stands by the doorway, watching over his sleeping son, Toji reaches out and takes your hand. You squeeze it gently, a silent promise of the love and support you’ve always given him. He turns to you, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“I never thought I’d have a life like this.” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “You’ve given me everything I never knew I needed. I don’t know how to thank you, but I hope you know how much you mean to me.”

You smile, your eyes glistening with love and understanding. “You don’t have to thank me. This our family, our home, its all I ever wanted too. We’ve created something beautiful together, and that’s more than enough.”

Toji wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as he gazes once more at the peaceful scene before him. In that moment, he knows that he has everything he could ever ask for. The life he shares with you and Megumi is his greatest achievement, his greatest joy. And as he holds you close, he realizes that this is exactly where he’s meant to be—home.

The nights are often filled with a gentle stillness, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Megumi’s breathing as he sleeps. Toji finds these quiet moments to be some of the most precious. He cherishes the tranquility that envelops your family, feeling as though he’s finally found his place of peace after years of turmoil.

In the early mornings, when the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, Toji enjoys watching you and Megumi. He loves the way you wake up with a soft smile, the kind that says everything is right in the world.

As you prepare breakfast, Toji often stands by, watching with admiration. You move through the routine with an ease and grace that mesmerize him, the way you hum a soft tune or how you softly chat with Megumi, turning the mundane into something magical.

Mornings are Toji’s favorite time to bond with his son. He takes Megumi in his arms, holding him close as he prepares to start the day. They play together, their laughter filling the room with an infectious joy that makes Toji’s heart swell.

He sees so much of you in Megumi; Everything he loves about you blossomed in your beautiful son. Megumi had the same curious eyes, the same warm smile—and it makes him fall in love with both of you all over again.

On weekends, the family often goes on small adventures. Whether it’s a stroll through the park, a visit to a nearby museum, or a picnic by the river, Toji treasures these outings.

He loves seeing the world through Megumi’s eyes, watching as his son discovers new things and experiences the simple joys of life. He takes pride in being a part of these moments, knowing that he’s helping to create cherished memories for his family.

At night, after Megumi is asleep and the house quiets down, Toji and you find time to connect. These moments of solitude are a chance to share your thoughts and dreams, to reflect on the day and plan for the future.

The conversations are often deep and meaningful, touching on everything from hopes and fears to the little details of daily life. It’s in these conversations that Toji feels most connected to you, realizing how deeply you understand and support him.

Sometimes, Toji thinks back to the days when his life was filled with chaos and uncertainty. He can’t believe how far he’s come, how much he’s changed. And every time he looks at you or Megumi, he’s reminded of just how much he’s gained. The family he’s built with you is a testament to the love and resilience you both share.

As he drifts off to sleep beside you, Toji feels a profound sense of contentment. The days are filled with laughter and love, the nights with peace and connection. He knows that his past is behind him, that he’s finally found the life he was meant to have.

In the quiet darkness, Toji holds you close, grateful for the life you’ve created together. He’s found something he never thought possible—a home, a family, and a love that makes everyday worth living.

And as he whispers a quiet “thank you” into the night, he knows that the greatest gift he’s ever received is the love and happiness you and Megumi have brought into his life.

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HE REALLY THINKS THIS IS THE BEST LIFE ANYONE CAN ASK FOR. Fushiguro Toji enjoys the life you’ve built together. He really does. But lately, a thought has been lingering in his mind, one that keeps surfacing during the quiet moments.

He wonders if maybe life would be even better, fuller—if you and he were to give Megumi a sibling. It’s not that he doesn’t love the way things are now. Ever since Megumi was born, everything shifted naturally; your priorities changed, and together, you’ve navigated this new life of parenthood seamlessly.

But still, Toji can’t help but worry. Megumi is growing up fast—already past his first birthday and nearing his second. He’s independent in his own quiet way, rarely showing interest in playing with other kids when given the chance. Toji wonders if maybe it’s because Megumi feels a little lonely, being an only child.

Toji doesn’t voice these thoughts out loud often, but they weigh on his mind. You’ve both done well to balance your lives, your love, and your responsibilities. But he imagines another child, a little sibling for Megumi—someone to share those quiet afternoons and keep him company.

Maybe it’s time to think about it, he muses. After all, family has always been at the center of his thoughts, and adding to yours feels like the natural next step.

Your husband hasn’t brought it up yet, not directly. It’s hard for him to find the right moment, the right words. He’s not one for long conversations or deep discussions, but you know him well enough to notice when something is on his mind.

Lately, he’s been watching Megumi more closely, observing the way your son plays quietly by himself, content in his little world but lacking the spark of excitement that other kids seem to find when surrounded by their peers.

He’s seen it when you’re both at the park, Megumi clinging to your leg instead of running around with the other children. He doesn’t push it—Megumi is still young, and Toji knows better than anyone that everyone moves at their own pace.

But the nagging thought remains: maybe what Megumi needs isn’t just more playdates or time with other kids. Maybe he needs someone at home, a sibling to grow up with, to bond with. Someone who’ll always be there, someone who’ll understand him in a way only a sibling can.

In those quiet moments when the house is calm, and Megumi is tucked away in bed, Toji imagines what it might be like. The sounds of laughter from another room, two pairs of small feet running down the hallway.

The way you’d smile, holding another little one in your arms. The thought makes him feel warm, something he doesn’t experience often. It’s not just about Megumi anymore, he knows that too well. It’s also about the life you’re building, the family you’ve already started. And deep down, he knows he wants to keep growing it.

Still, he wonders how you’ll feel about it. You’ve both been so focused on Megumi, on making sure he’s happy and cared for. Will you think it’s too soon? Will you worry about the shift it would cause in your lives again, the added responsibility?

These thoughts swirl in his mind as he considers how to approach the subject. He doesn’t want to push, but the desire is there, quietly persistent, tugging at him with each passing day.

So one evening, when the house is peaceful and the two of you are sitting together, watching Megumi’s small chest rise and fall as he sleeps, Toji finally lets the words slip out.

“Do you think… Megumi’s lonely?” His voice is soft, almost tentative. He’s not used to sounding uncertain, but this feels like new territory for him. “Like, maybe he’d do better with a sibling?”

The question hangs in the air, unspoken emotions carried within it, waiting for your response.

You pause for a moment, taking in Toji’s words. It’s not a question you expected, but knowing him, you realize this has been on his mind for a while. His concern for Megumi is clear, and the idea of giving your son a sibling is something you’ve thought about before, though not as seriously. But now, hearing it from Toji, you realize it’s more than just a passing thought—it’s a real possibility.

You glance over at Megumi, fast asleep in his crib, peaceful and unaware of the weight of this conversation. He’s always been a quiet, introspective child, and it’s true—he doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other kids all that much.

Your little boy is happy to be around you both, that was true enough. He always loves spending time with you both. But with other kids? It's a tough crowd when it comes to your little boy.

But you’ve always assumed he’d grow out of it, that he’d find his own way to connect. Still, there’s a small part of you that wonders if Toji is right. Maybe Megumi is lonely, and maybe the best thing for him would be to have a sibling to share his life with.

You shift closer to Toji, resting your head against his shoulder. “I don’t know, baby.” you admit softly. “Maybe. He does seem to keep to himself a lot… but he’s still so young. Do you really think a sibling would make a difference?”

Toji lets out a low sigh, his arm wrapping around you as he considers his words. “I think it could. I mean, I didn’t grow up with much family, and I turned out…” He trails off, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say I don’t want that for Megumi. He deserves more.”

You smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, but the thought lingers in your mind. Toji’s childhood was different—lonely in a way that you know he doesn’t talk about often. Maybe that’s why this means so much to him. Maybe he wants Megumi to have something he never did.

“You think we’re ready for that?” you ask, glancing up at him. It’s a big decision, one that would change everything, again. But there’s something comforting about the idea, too. “I mean with how busy we are and Megumi…”

You’ve seen Toji with Megumi, the way he’s softened since becoming a father. And you love it. More than anything, it was what you think that fulfilled your life — making Toji a father and building a family. him.

But you haven’t thought about it just yet. But now that you’re thinking about it….the thought of adding another little one to your family, watching Toji bond with another child, feels right in a way that you hadn’t fully realized until now.

Toji meets your gaze, his expression more serious now. “I think we are. It’s not gonna be easy, but nothing ever is, right? We made it work with Megumi, and we’ll make it work again.”

His confidence reassures you, and the weight of the decision starts to feel less overwhelming. You’re not just thinking about yourselves anymore; you’re thinking about Megumi and the family you’re building together.

You lean into him, letting his warmth and the quiet of the evening wrap around you both. “Okay, okay….” you say softly, the decision settling into your chest. “Let’s think about it. For Megumi. For us.”

Toji presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice full of something deeper than just words. “For all of us.”

But thinking was one thing. Acting on it, especially when the two of you were so deeply drawn to each other—was something entirely different. Whenever the subject of expanding your family surfaced in conversation, it wasn’t long before the connection between you and Toji shifted into something more intense, more immediate.

There was an undeniable pull between you, something that seemed to ignite in the quiet moments when you were alone together, reminding you just how much you desired one another.

It would often happen in the evening, after a long day of work. The two of you would settle into the comfort of your apartment, exhaustion slipping away as you relaxed on the couch after dinner.

Toji would always keep you close, one arm draped over your shoulders, his hand absently tracing patterns on your skin. The world outside would fade as you settled into your quiet bubble, just the two of you in the stillness of the night.

And then, it would happen slowly at first, with a shared glance, a quiet breath, and the unspoken understanding that there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface.

Toji, always so sure in his movements, would gently guide you from the couch to the soft embrace of the bed, laying you down against the pillow with deliberate care, as if you were something precious. His hands would roam, teasing and familiar, as he removed your clothes piece by piece, his fingers gliding over your skin like he’d memorized every inch of you.

By the time his hand slid between your thighs, you were already lost to him, to the way he touched you with a practiced skill that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers worked their way inside you, slow and deliberate at first, drawing out every bit of pleasure as your body responded to him.

The feeling was electric, the tension between you mounting with each passing second. Toji’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered but the way you were falling apart beneath his touch.

You couldn’t think about anything else in those moments, not about the future or about giving Megumi a sibling. All you could focus on was the sensation of Toji’s fingers moving inside you, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of your breath hitching in your throat as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Toji knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. The way he touched you, the way he whispered your name in that low, gravelly voice; it drove you wild, leaving you breathless and aching for more. You were wrapped up in him, in the way his fingers curled inside you, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your head spin.

Your back arched, hips instinctively rolling against his hand as the pleasure built, your thoughts scattered in every direction except the present moment. Toji’s lips found your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “You’re all mine,” his voice thick with want.

And in that moment, you were. Completely, entirely his. The rest of the world faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of being lost in him, your body responding to his touch as you let go of everything except the pure, unadulterated pleasure he gave you.

Toji’s fingers moved with a deliberate intensity, his pace quickening as he watched you unravel beneath him. His focus was sharp, every movement calculated to drive you closer to your limit.

You couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped you—soft gasps, whispers of his name, every noise pulling him deeper into his need for you. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing along your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you in place as your body arched against him.

"That's it, baby." he murmured, voice rough and low. The heat between you was almost unbearable, the air thick with the tension that always seemed to surge whenever you were alone together.

He was lost in you, in the way your body responded to his touch. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot that made your breath catch, your hips instinctively lifting toward him as the pressure built in your core.

You were so close, the pleasure winding tight within you, and Toji could sense it. His thumb circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his lips grazing your ear, the command in his voice leaving no room for anything else. "Let go. I’ve got you."

And just like that, the tension inside you snapped. Your body tensed, then released in a flood of warmth and sensation, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out, hands clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Toji’s fingers didn’t stop, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you as he held you through it, his lips pressed against your skin, murmuring soft, unintelligible words of praise.

Your body trembled beneath him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through you as you tried to catch your breath. Toji slowly withdrew his fingers, but his touch remained gentle, his hand trailing softly along your thigh as he looked down at you, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re perfect like this, baby.” he said quietly, almost to himself. His hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Always so damn perfect.”

Your body is still coming down from the high when you look at him, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin as he hovers above you, his smirk deepening. There's a glint in his eyes, that unmistakable fire, as if the conversation you’d had earlier is still echoing in the back of his mind.

You don’t even have to think too hard about it; it’s like an instinct when you tell him, voice breathless, “I want to give you a baby again.”

Toji’s grin widens, his brow arching slightly. “Oh, is that right?” he teases, his hand trailing lazily down your side, lingering on your hip. But then he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “What’s stopping you then, huh?”

You shake your head vigorously, letting out a soft hum of disagreement, not entirely trusting his intentions. Toji’s always been a dirty fucking liar when it comes to things like this, promising things he knows will make you weak, things you know he’ll never deliver on.

Yet somehow, even knowing that, you still find it in yourself to love him. And maybe that's why, despite everything, you still let him have you like this, completely bare, letting him slide into you raw, no barriers between you.

He wastes no time, pushing your legs back, your knees nearly pressed up to your chest as he thrusts into you. The intensity is overwhelming, each deep stroke driving you further into the mattress, making your body shake under his relentless pace.

Toji's grip is strong, controlling, one hand pinning your thigh back as the other rests on your waist, holding you in place like he owns you. And in these moments, it feels like he does.

He has a hold on you in ways you can’t quite explain, two different kinds of control—one physical, the other something deeper, emotional, binding you to him in a way that’s undeniable.

“You’re really getting into it huh, sweetheart?” His voice drips with mock sweetness, but there’s a dark edge to it, each word paired with a heavy, punishing thrust that knocks the breath out of you. “You want me to fill up that sweet little belly?”

His words are a tease, malicious in the way only Toji can be, his voice laced with cruel affection. His grin matches it, sharp and selfish, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how every filthy promise pushes you closer to the brink. Your mind is spinning, caught between wanting to resist and wanting to give in completely.

Then, his pace slows slightly, his hand gripping your jaw as he forces you to look up at him, his gaze locking with yours. The teasing drops, replaced with something far more commanding. His eyes burn with an intensity that makes your stomach flip, and his voice, low and rough, sends shivers down your spine.

“Gimme fuckin’ words, baby.” he growls, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “I need words.”

Your breath hitches, the weight of his command settling heavy in the pit of your stomach. You know what he’s asking for—he needs to hear it from you, needs the affirmation that you’re his, that you want this just as much as he does. His pace haughtily picks up again, a merciless rhythm, every thrust driving deeper as he waits for your response.

“I—” you try to catch your breath, your voice shaky as you struggle to form the words. But the sensation is too much, the way he’s filling you, stretching you, making it hard to think about anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. “I want you,” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Toji’s dark green eyes narrow slightly, unsatisfied with your answer. He grabs your chin harder, his pace growing even more ruthless. “That’s not enough, baby.” he growls, his voice a dangerous rasp. “Tell me. What do you want?”

Your mind is foggy, body trembling beneath him, and you can feel yourself on the edge again, teetering close to the point of no return. His dominance over you in this moment is absolute, and you can’t fight it, can’t resist the pull of his command.

“I want you to fill me up, babe.” you finally gasp, your words spilling out in a rush, almost desperate. “I want your baby, Toji.”

His response is immediate, a low, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest as he picks up the pace, driving into you with a newfound intensity.

“That’s my good girl right there, hm?” he growls, his grip tightening as he slams into you with brutal force, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re gonna take all of me, aren’t you? Gonna let me give you exactly what you asked for.”

Your body answers for you, already falling apart beneath him as his words send you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. Every thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, your legs shaking, your breath ragged as Toji takes what’s his, just like he always does.

And even through the haze of pleasure, you know there’s no escaping him. Toji has you—mind, body, and soul—and there’s nothing you wouldn’t give him, nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Toji’s grip on you tightens as the intensity between you both heightens. His hips slam into yours with an unrelenting force, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Your husband was too good at playing this game of pleasure. You were hanging on for dear life, stuck in a pleasurable pandemonium. The rough rhythm of his body against yours, combined with the filthy words spilling from his mouth, sends shockwaves through your entire being.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” he growls, his voice dark with possession. “You’re gonna let me fill you up, huh? Make you mine all over again, just like you want.”

You can barely form coherent thoughts as your body responds to him, legs trembling with the sheer force of his thrusts. The sounds of your shared breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the creak of the mattress fill the room, an unspoken rhythm between you two that’s as primal as it is intimate.

You’re completely at his mercy, pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything but feel. This man occupies everything in you as easily as you breathe. And you wanted him. You wanted more of him.

“Toji—” you gasp, his name leaving your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him for dear life. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, the heat of his body on yours, the way he’s completely taken over your senses.

He releases one of your legs, shifting slightly to lean down, his lips brushing against your ear, hot and heavy with every breath. “You’re gonna take all of it, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone laced with both a command and a dark kind of affection. “Every last drop.”

His words send a jolt through you, pushing you closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. The pressure builds inside you, winding tight in your belly, threatening to snap at any second. And Toji knows it. He can feel the way your body clenches around him, the way your breath hitches with every thrust.

“Say it again, baby.” he demands, his pace somehow growing even more brutal, hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart races, and it takes everything in you to gasp out the words between broken breaths. “I want you to fill me up… I want your baby, Toji, please—” Your voice is desperate, the plea tumbling out before you can stop it.

The satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he growls in response. “Good girl.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing beneath him as the pleasure crashes through you, wave after wave, your voice breaking as you cry out.

Toji doesn’t stop, his thrusts driving deeper, harder, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left trembling, barely able to catch your breath.

He’s close too; you can feel it in the way his movements grow more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own release. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his pace faltering for a moment before he slams into you one final time, his hips flush against yours as he fills you completely, the warmth of him spilling deep inside you.

Toji’s body goes tense for a brief second, and then he collapses against you, his breath ragged and heavy as he rides out the last waves of his release. His hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, his eyes softened now, the intense fire in them dimmed into something more tender.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, still holding you close, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. “You’re perfect, perfectttt. Just like that, baby.” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, the raw edge gone. “Every damn time.”

You’re still catching your breath, your body exhausted but sated, the warmth of him pressed against you grounding you in the moment. There’s something comforting in the way he holds you after, a quiet reassurance that, despite his teasing and rough exterior, there’s a deep connection between you both that runs far beyond words.

Toji’s body stays pressed against yours, his breathing still heavy as he recovers from the intensity of what you just shared. The room feels warm, the quiet between you filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the lingering sensation of him still deep inside you. For a moment, it’s peaceful, like you’re both floating in the afterglow.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

You feel him stir against you, his lips brushing over your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone. His hand slides over your waist, fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare skin. There’s a shift in the air, a subtle change in his energy that you recognize immediately. He’s not done—not even close.

Your husband recovers so fast, you couldn't even help but wonder what sort of super human he is. When he gets excited, he won't stop until he makes that excitement have fulfilment. And Fushiguro Toji will take an take. His monster of pleasure demands to be full.

“Toji…” you whisper, your voice already betraying the anticipation that’s starting to build again. You feel his smirk against your skin, the low chuckle that vibrates through his chest as he kisses his way up to your neck, nipping softly at your pulse point.

“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you? Need for my come to take, baby. Need to give you as much as possible.” he murmurs, voice dark with intent. His hand moves down, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing, as if testing your readiness for what’s to come. “Besides, baby, Iknow you can take more. You always do.”

Before you can even respond, Toji pulls out of you slowly, the absence of him leaving you aching, only to have him slide back in a moment later—deeper, harder, the sudden stretch drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. He groans softly, his hands gripping your hips as he starts moving, this time with a slower, more deliberate rhythm.

His hips roll against yours, each thrust precise, dragging out the sensation with agonizing slowness. You can feel him fully, every inch of him stretching you, filling you up completely as he starts to build up the intensity again. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to take more of you.

“Toji—” you moan, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as he presses you deeper into the mattress.

“Shh, baby. ” he whispers, leaning down so that his lips are inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m gonna take my time with you, like I always do. You'd let me, won't you, mama?”

And he does. He moves at his own pace, each thrust measured and controlled, as if he’s savoring every second of being inside you. His eyes lock onto yours, that commanding intensity from earlier returning as he watches every reaction you give him.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s making you feel so exposed, so vulnerable beneath him, but you can’t tear your gaze away. You’re completely at his mercy. Perhaps even more than before. It was just the way it was between the two of you. And you can't help but want it.

His hand moves between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles that send sparks shooting through your core. The combination of his deep, deliberate thrusts and the focused attention on your most sensitive spot is overwhelming, and you can already feel the pressure building again, faster this time.

“You’re such a good baby girl, my little wife, huh?” he groans, his voice gravelly with desire. “You love it, don’t you? Love the way I fuck you, mama.”

You nod, unable to form words, your body reacting to him instinctively. His thick thumb presses harder against your clit, and your hips buck up toward him, chasing the pleasure that’s building so quickly it’s almost dizzying.

“Use your words, my baby. I need your words to be clear, hm?” he orders, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I— I love it, babe. I….Oh–” you gasp, barely able to get the words out as the pleasure coils tight inside you. “I love how you fuck me, Toji.”

“That’s it, baby. Good girl, my pretty wife.” he groans, his pace picking up as he drives into you harder now, more relentlessly. “You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you? Like the good little wife you are? Gonna make me a daddy again, huh?”

You can feel yourself getting closer, every nerve in your body on fire as he takes you right to the edge again. His hand doesn’t stop, rubbing firm circles against your clit, and the pressure inside you becomes unbearable.

“Toji, please—” you moan, your voice desperate.

“I know, baby, I know.” he whispers, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic as he chases his own release. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart again.”

His words push you over the edge, and your orgasm crashes through you, harder than before. Your body clenches around him, back arching as your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Toji groans low in his throat as he feels you tighten around him, his hips slamming into yours as he rides out every wave of your release.

You’re barely coming down from your high when you feel him thrust into you one last time, his grip on your hips bruising as he finally lets go, his own release hitting him hard. He moans your name, the sound of it rough and primal, as he fills you completely, his body going rigid above you.

For a long moment, neither of you move, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together. Toji’s weight is comforting against you, grounding you as you come back down from the intensity of everything that just happened.

Finally, he pulls out slowly, rolling onto his back beside you. His arm reaches out, pulling you close so that you’re curled against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. There’s a soft, satisfied hum in his throat as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his fingers lazily stroking your arm.

“You’re something else, baby.” he murmurs, his voice full of lazy affection, though there’s still that edge of satisfaction in it, like he knows exactly how much control he has over you.

You don’t need to respond—he already knows how deeply he affects you, how much you need him just as much as he needs you. And as you lie there in the quiet, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think about how, despite all of Toji’s roughness and teasing, there’s no place you’d rather be than here, in his arms. And you wish, so desperately, that you could give him another child.

══════════════════

epilogue

The next morning, you’re still tangled up in the sheets, but it’s not out of luxury. You try to move, but as soon as you shift an inch, your body protests with an aching reminder of exactly what Toji had done to you last night. Every muscle feels like it’s been through a battle, and you can't help but groan as you flop back onto the bed, surrendering to the pain.

From the doorway, you hear the sound of little footsteps padding across the floor. Megumi toddles in, clutching a stuffed animal under his arm, his wide eyes peeking over the edge of the bed. Behind him, Toji strides in, smirking like the smug devil he is.

“Morning, baby.” Toji says, far too chipper for someone who’d spent the entire night wrecking you. He’s holding a tray with what looks like breakfast—eggs, toast, and even a small bowl of fruit—but what stands out is the cup of coffee that you need more than air right now.

“Morning.” you croak, wincing as you try to sit up, only to immediately regret it. “I can’t feel my legs, babe. Pretty sure you broke me.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly proud of himself. “Yeah? Thought you liked it when I went all out.”

“Liking it and being able to walk after are two different things, you know.” you grumble, pulling the blanket up higher as Megumi stares at you with that same curious expression.

Toji sets the tray down on the bedside table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. “Guess I’ll have to carry you everywhere today, huh?” His voice is thick with amusement, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare, but honestly, you’re too tired to fight back.

“Please do, babe. I’m basically a noodle.”

Just then, Megumi climbs up onto the bed, his little hands gripping the edge as he pulls himself up with determination. He plops down beside you, his stuffed animal tucked under his chin. You smile, your heart warming despite the soreness, and Toji hands you the tray, still smirking like he’s king of the world.

“Breakfast in bed, as promised,” he says, crossing his arms like he’s just done you the biggest favor in the world. “Made it with Megumi. Though, uh, you might wanna avoid the toast. He helped with that.”

You glance down at the toast in question, one piece charred to a crisp, the other half-raw in the middle. “I see his culinary skills are coming along nicely.”

Toji laughs, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Hey, he’s learning. Can’t all be naturals like me.”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can shoot back a sarcastic remark, Megumi climbs into Toji’s lap, looking between the two of you with that innocent, wide-eyed look only toddlers can pull off. “Hm, hm. I love my good house husband, really.”

“As you should, baby.” He snickers back at you. “No one else will be like this for you but me.”

“I know, I know.” You say as you continue to eat.

He smiles and kisses your head. “Good.”

“Toji, babe….” you say, setting the tray aside and carefully reaching out to ruffle Megumi’s hair. “If I can’t walk today, you're on diaper duty.”

Toji looks genuinely horrified for a split second. "Now, wait a minute—"

"All your fault, Mr. 'let me give you a baby,’" you tease, biting into your eggs while giving him a pointed look. "So, now you get to deal with the consequences."

Megumi looks up at him, blinking with his bright big eyes, and Toji sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine." he says, giving you that classic Toji smirk. “But next time, you’re gettin’ the easy job.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a playful smile on your face. “Next time, maybe go easy on me so I can still stand.”

Toji grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, voice low and teasing. “No promises, baby.”

And with that, the morning unfolds with you lounging in bed, Fushiguro Megumi occasionally wandering over to offer you his stuffed animal, and Toji trying (and failing) to get through diaper duty without swearing under his breath. You can’t help but laugh at the sight of him, the big, tough man reduced to toddler chaos.

But despite everything;

the soreness, the teasing, the burnt toast—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is life.

1K notes · View notes

lyrefromthesea · 5 months ago

Note

Blind reader x hashira + kokushibo? (since she's blind she doesn't know he's a demon?)

Please 🙃

Male hashira (+ Kokushibo) x Reader - Blindness is something I can overlook

author's note: fun fact, i am partially colorblind.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

"i like these.." you told him, holding a small chain of jewelry in your hands. the man looked over your shoulder, a content hum leaving him.

normally, people wouldn't take a blind person to shop for accessories with them, but Tengen didn't seem to care. in fact, he had appeared quite eager to take you with him.

now here you were, trying to find a "flashy" - as he'd like to call it - accessory for him. not knowing how they looked, you decided to feel them instead.

some of them were lightly sharp, sure to leave small scratches on his skin. others were rounded and had a smooth surface. you preferred them over the sharp jewelry, but weren't happy with those either.

finally, when your hand brushed over diverse stones, you felt content with the jewelery you've found. it felt like a rope in your hand, but it was made out of small cold stones, which were the perfect mix of smoothness and sharpness.

they varied in size and shape, leaving a good impression on you. especially since they reminded you of the big stones on his headband. when you told him that you liked them, his eyes lit up.

"there's another one here." he said, taking the second chain into his hand. the cool color of the new accessory matched the pink diamonds he already wore.

"they're perfect, beautiful." he told you, giving the cashier a handful of money. he didn't wait to get the rest of his money back, too focused on the gift you've found him.

"are you just saying that or do you mean it?" you ask, yet you smiled right after, knowing that he was being honest when he talked to you.

"they're great - flashy. i'll make sure to wear them everywhere." he was already attaching them to the side of his headband, determined to keep his promise true.

yet you were only focused on the softness that had sneaked into his voice, showing his appreciation for the newfound treasure.

Obanai:

he didn't mind your blindness, welcomed it even. he would've never admitted it to you, never told you - knowing it would probably hurt your feelings.

but he felt it was better that way, better for you not to see him. he was hideous and he knew it.

so why, after years of insecurity, he allowed someone to see his state of weakness. his heart nearly sunk when you asked him to let you see him.

he had told you it wasn't important, that he just needed to be there for you, but you had insisted and he couldn't deny you a single wish.

now he held himself back from moving away, his heart beating faster as he saw your hands nearing his uncovered face.

yet the contrast of his feelings and the soft warmth of your touch left him puzzled. you were sitting right next to him, hands cupping his cheek. more importantly, your thumbs were carefully tracing over his scars.

he knew you could feel the difference under your thumb, could feel how different he was from other people. part of him had expected you to leave him after finding out how hideous he truly looked.

"you're beautiful.." you whispered, his eyes widening like they've never done before. he was left speechless by your words, swallowing down his fear to respond.

"you don't have to lie." he answered, voice unstable. he couldn't believe that someone could love him, not when he was like this.

"i wish i could see you with my eyes." his trembling hands touched yours, squeezing them just lightly. he knew how much those words meant, you had never spoken them out before.

and it wasn't only your wish. he could feel the desire to make you see swell up in his own chest. to imagine that he thought differently before - it felt stupid to him now.

Rengoku:

"open your mouth and close your eyes!" he instructed, making you halt.

did he just? he did not, right? ..right?

"Kyojuro..?" you carefully said his name, making the man answer with a hum. he still held his spoon in hand, having wanted to give you a bite of his food.

you raised your hand, waving it in front of your face. it took him a moment to catch on, realizing that his words had been stupid to the core.

"oh- i certainly didn't-" he stopped when he heard you snort, wide eyes watching you smile and laugh. his heart started beating faster, his cheeks flushing.

you clearly weren't mad or disappointed, but he felt embarrassed for forgetting something so obvious. the words slipped out of his mouth before he could even register it.

"it's fine, don't worry." you answered, putting a comforting hand on his. you leaned forward, taking the spoon into your mouth and chewing on the food before swallowing it down.

"is that sashimi? it's really good." you complimented, the note of wasabi still lingering on your tongue.

"do you want me to order some more?" he asked, turning his hand around to hold yours. you hummed, a small smile forming on your face.

days like these were your favourite - the perfect mix of romantic and silly.

Sanemi:

"it should be around here.." you mumbled, pulling the white haired man with you. his eyes were fixated on your surroundings, trying to figure out what exactly drove you towards this place.

"ah- can you smell it?" you gasped, turning your head towards the right, trying to pick up on the floral scent lingering in the air.

"no.." he answered, shaking his head lightly. no matter what he thought off, he couldn't come up with a reason why you'd bring him here.

nevertheless, his legs continued moving, not because he was necessarily interested, but because he wanted to make you happy.

that's why his eyes widened when you walked past multiple trees, reaching a giant flower field.

now he understood what you were talking about, the floral aroma enveloping his senses. he felt you letting go of his hand, leaning down to pick one of the flowers and smell on it.

the field was beautiful, full of the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. however, he realized that was a sight you'd never experience, slowly lowering himself in the grass next to you.

he took one of the flowers, mimicking your actions and breathing in it's scent. if you couldn't see what he was seeing, he could at least try experiencing the same as you.

"it's beautiful.."

Giyuu:

"like this." his voice was quiet, but it sounded much thicker and lower than the night's silence. he had asked you to show him your hand, but when you asked how, he guided it into the correct position.

your palm was facing him, fingers feeling the wind brush between them, teasing you with light touches and the surrounding silence.

you felt his hand on yours, his fingers brushing over your palm, gently drawing different forms onto your skin.

"it tickles.." you whispered, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he started tapping along your skin. a gentle huff escaped him, the one that made you know he was smiling.

"that's how i feel when i see you.." he answered, his hand finally pressing against yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle hold.

you silently scooted closer, the night's air sending a comfortable chill over your body. it didn't take him long to hold you closer, letting his body's warmth settle into your skin.

"you make me feel ticklish all around.. sometimes i worry i won't be able to think when i see you." he admitted, coaxing a smile out of you.

he didn't mind that you couldn't see, because he could see your beauty either way.

Gyomei:

some might say it would be ironic for two blind people to fall in love or befriend each other, but it certainly worked out for the two of you.

you admired his strength and he admired yours. truthfully, he hadn't noticed you at first, hadn't questioned why you used another weapon than the other demon slayers, but it all made sense when he found out about your blindness.

"this is your weapon of choice?" he had asked when the two of you joined a mission. he held a long rope dart in his hand - your treasure. Haganezuka had created the weapon for you.

the usually normal rope was made out of a thin chain, helping you coordinate throughout the fight. naturally, Gyomei who also used a special weapon, was intrigued by it.

"due to my lack of strength, it's the only suitable weapon for me." you answered, your fingers tracing over the axe he carried around with him. it was much heavier than your weapon, fitting for the man, who was much taller than you.

"it is a good choice indeed. i admire your critical thinking skills." he admitted, a smile displaying on his face.

and though you would sadly never see the happy look he'd give you in the future, you certainly liked the content tone of his voice.

Kokushibo:

he didn't remember his former loved ones. he didn't remember his wife. he didn't remember his child. their faces were a blur that he had created himself.

but you weren't. you were well. you were alive. he didn't need to remember the past when he could enjoy the presence with you.

his own human, the one he swore to protect. perhaps the gods have blessed him this time around, just like they had blessed his damned brother before.

the one person Kokushibo yearned to have just had to be a human. his surprise when he realized you weren't able to see was immaculate. he felt compassionate. and relieved.

"greetings.." the male spoke, stepping through the small gate of your house. the area was surrounded by wisteria, but like the gods had wanted him to find you, they left a small path for him.

"Kokushibo, it's you!" you smiled, standing up and letting go of the flowers in your hand. it took some time, but you managed to grow some in your garden.

the demon watched you move towards him, affectionately taking his hand like you've known each other forever. "you came back earlier this time."

"i happened to have a bit of free time.." he answered, low voice filling you with contentedness. while he made sure to look at you, his other eyes glanced at the garden.

the world could be dangerous for a blind person, but you've built your own small paradise between the rows of poisonous trees.

"let's get you inside, it's quite cold." you said, leading him towards the entrance of your very own home.

he wondered if he could keep up this facade of trust or if you would hate him after you've found out that the enemy stood in your house.

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lovecuprite · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 5 - Sex Tape with Kento Nanami

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, filming a sex tape ˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 2.5k

a/n: honestly, i am way too tired after my sukuna 7k one so today was meant to be cockwarming (it will come later), but i was too tired to finish it tonight - if you read this from the cod side already sshh, that post is gone now, i wanted it on here

The camera sat propped up on a makeshift tripod across from the bed, a little red light indicating it was recording. The curtains were half-drawn and it covered the room in a warm orange from the sunset. Everything about this felt strange and new, yet so oddly comforting in its intimacy.

Nanami sat at the edge of the bed, still in his slacks, a white shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. His face softened with a mix of longing and something that made your heart squeeze: vulnerability.

"You sure about this, love?" His voice, deep and rough as always, held an edge of hesitation. His thumb traced small circles into your palm as if grounding himself in your touch, not quite ready to begin. "Don't want you to think it's... y'know, too much. If you don’t wanna-"

You gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand back in reassurance. "Kento, it's for us. I want you to have this, for those times when you’re away from home with your work and I’m here, missing you, just as much as you miss me.”

He lifted his gaze, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a fire there—an intensity that was always present but now simmered with something deeper, more intimate. His fingers trailed up your arm in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright,” he said, voice low. “This stays between us. It’s just for me, okay? Nobody else sees it.”

You nodded, biting your lip in anticipation, “Not even if Gojo asks?”

“No. Unless you want me to, but I don’t really plan on letting him see my wife like this, only me.” His words were firm, almost possessive, but there was something protective about the way he said it.

Nanami was always careful when it came to you—his sorcerer work might be dangerous, unpredictable, but he kept you tucked safely away from that world. And this, what you were about to share, was sacred in its own right.

His hands, warm and rough, moved to your waist, tugging you gently towards him. "C'mere," he whispered, his voice lower now, looking at you as though you were a precious gem he didn’t want to break.

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, feeling the warmth of his body even through the denim. His hands settled on your hips, holding you there, not letting you go.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. You could hear the quiet hum of the camera still running in the background; it faded into the periphery of your perception, so it was just the two of you wrapped in this bubble of time.

His forehead leaned against yours while his breathing was warm against your lips. "I hate leavin' you," he whispered, his voice rough with frustration and longing. "Every bloody time, it gets harder."

“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers sliding up the back of his neck, tangling gently in his hair. “But this time, you’ll have something more. You won’t just have to imagine me.”

A low, almost guttural noise rumbled from his chest, and his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you even closer. His lips brushed against yours, a feather-light touch that sent sparks through your skin. “I’ll watch this every night if I have to,” he murmured against your mouth. “Keep me sane when I’m dealing with this messed up hell out there.”

His words, raw and unfiltered, made your heart swell, and you kissed him back, slow and tender at first, savouring the way he tasted. His lips were soft, contrasting with the roughness in his hands as they roamed across your back, holding steady to keep himself anchored to you and in this moment.

He deepened the kiss, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. He touched you in such deliberate ways, taking his time, committing every inch of you to memory before having to leave again.

He drew back far enough to peer into your eyes, his dark with a need that went far past the physical. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Always- doesn't matter if I’m a few miles away or thousands. You got that?"

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. "I'm yours, Kento. Always.”

For one instant, the ferocity in his eyes gave way to softening and his lips caressed yours once again, the pace languid now as every moment was cherished. His hands kept on with their exploration, touching and leaving trails of heat wherever they ventured. You could feel the strength in him, the restraint he was holding back, wanting to make this moment last.

When his lips found your neck, you let out a soft gasp, your body arching into him. His breath was warm against your skin, and the way his lips and teeth teased at the sensitive spot just below your ear sent electricity shooting through you.

“Gonna miss this,” he growled softly, his hands moving lower, gripping your hips tighter. “Miss you.”

You cupped his face, guiding his gaze back to yours, your thumb brushing over his jawline. “You’ll have me with you,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the desire pooling in your stomach. “Whenever you need me.”

He groaned softly, his lips claiming yours again, this time urgent, desperate. It was as if he wanted to leave an impression of himself within your soul, something you might hold on to when the nights felt too long.

The camera watched silently, recording every moment: how his hands roamed your body, how your lips danced together in some rhythm only the two of you knew. This wasn't about physical closeness; this was holding onto one another in the only way you could when the distance would soon tear you both apart.

Melting into him, your bodies moved together in perfect sync, every touch, every kiss burning with the unsaid knowledge that the time was running out. You tugged at his clothes, and he did, yours. His lips had left yours, pressing a path of kisses down your neck; his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "I need you," he muttered, his voice rough and almost broken. "Need all of you.

You moaned softly, your head tilting back as his hands roamed lower, his fingers skating across the edge of your underwear. The feel of him touching you-so gentle yet so intense-only served to increase your need for him. He was unravelling you, piece by piece, until all that was left was the raw undeniable need that pulsed between you both.

His lips brushed your ear, and his breath came in short, ragged bursts. “Tell me what you want,” he rasped, his voice thick with need, but still controlled, still in that deep, gravelly tone that always made your knees weak. He wanted to hear it, needed to hear you say it.

“I want you,” you whispered, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead was pressed against yours again. “All of you. Now.”

Something in him snapped at your words. He groaned, low and primal, as his restraint melted away. With one swift movement, he lifted you, shifting your body so you were beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them as he settled between your legs, his touch firm but careful, always making sure you were okay, that this was what you wanted.

You nodded, breathless, your body already arching toward him, craving his touch. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding your underwear down and tossing them aside. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, like he was drinking in every inch of you, committing this moment to memory.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as his hand caressed your inner thigh. His lips found yours again and you moaned into his mouth, your body trembling with need.

His other hand moved to his own waistband, undoing his belt with a practised ease. You could feel the heat between you intensify, the space narrowing until there was nothing left between your bodies but the aching need to be as close as possible.

He positioned his cock at your entrance, his tip teasing you, rubbing along your slit and making you squirm with anticipation. He taps it against your pussy, smirking at the sound, “She’s already wet for me.” he purrs as he momentarily pulls away to grab his phone. “Want a better view- Two films just for me.”

He holds the phone camera just right as he spreads your folds, slowly pushing himself inside you, filling you inch by inch until he bottoms out. The moment he entered you, both of you let out a shared groan of relief, like this was what you had both been waiting for.

He was careful, always so careful, but there was something raw in the hunger of his filling you, the motion of his hips gentle yet insistent.

He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed, savouring the sensation of being connected in the most intimate way possible. "God, you always feel so good," he breathed, low, his voice breaking with emotion. "So fucking good-

Then he opened his eyes, and the way he stared at you-as though you were his entire world-made your heart skip a beat. The vulnerability in his gaze-an unspoken fear of losing you and not having enough time-stared right back at you. Yet, so much love almost overwhelmed you.

Nanami finally started to move, slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, as if he was trying to imprint the memory of you onto his very soul. You clung to him, your body responding to every movement, meeting his rhythm with your own, your moans mingling with his groans, creating a symphony of raw, unfiltered need.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure began to build, overwhelming your senses. Every touch, every thrust sent you spiralling closer to the edge, and you could feel him getting lost in it too, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate.

“Never,” he growled, his lips finding yours again in a fierce, hungry kiss. “I’m never letting go.”

He pulled away from the kiss so he could get the perfect angle on you, one he knows he’ll watch a million times when he’s away in the middle of nowhere, stuck with only Gojo for company.

With every thrust, your breasts bounce enticingly, and the camera shows every detail. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. "I'm going to watch this over and over again, remembering how perfect you feel." he continues, running his hand up your chest to fondle one of your breasts in his free hand, as his hips falter slightly and he tosses the phone to the side.

He starts pistoning into you again and again, desperate as the pleasure mounts. "That's it, baby," he says low and huskily, "Take it all- Take every inch of me." He shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts a little, and you cried out in pleasure as he hit that particularly sensitive place inside you. Your nails dig into his back, urging him on, and he returns the favour with a groan of his own, hips snapping forward with renewed vigour.

The camera on the side captures it all-a memory Nanami will always treasure, especially when he is far away from home, yearning for your skin against his. "I love you," he says, words spilling off his tongue with no hesitation. "I love you so fucking much."

The lens centres in on the point of contact between your bodies as his cock disappears inside you, stroke after stroke. The camera captures every nuance, every slight movement, so that when he watches this back, he'll relive every moment as if he were with you.

The camera captures a look on your face, too, as he manages to hit that special spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, your mouth twisted into a silent scream. The camera focuses on how your bodies shine with sweat; muscles ripple in his arms and back as he supports his weight, driving deeper into you with rising urgency.

With every thrust, the camera captures the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies coming together, punctuated by the occasional gasp or moan from one or both of you. The audio is crystal clear; Nanami can hear every breathy whimper and desperate plea when he watches it later, which makes it even more real and hard-core for him.

Nanami’s own breathing grows heavier, his movements becoming more erratic as he feels his own release approaching. He reaches down with one hand, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. The added stimulation sends you both over the edge, and you come together in a shared cry of ecstasy.

As Nanami climaxes, his cock throbs and pulses inside you, releasing a thick load of his cum. The camera picks up everything from the tensing of his muscles to the look of pure bliss plastered on his face. His cum coats your walls, filling you as best he can, a physical manifestation of the love and desire he holds for you.

The camera focuses on the point where his cock meets your entrance, gliding through your folds, as Nanami can see how his cum is mixing with your own juices in an erotic display of shared pleasure. The wet, obscene sounds of his final thrusts are amplified, ensuring that he'll be able to hear every last detail when he watches this back, reminding him of the intense connection you share.

He falls onto you, spent, both your bodies still joined together. The tender moments of soft kisses pressed to your forehead, caressing hands roaming over your body and holding one another close are all picked up.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Nanami slowly pulls out of you, his cum dripping onto the sheets below. The camera captures the erotic sight of your hole clenching and fluttering around his softening cock as he withdraws.

He settles beside you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "That was amazing," he whispers, still low and satisfied. "I love you so fucking much and I swear I’m going to lose my mind with how much I’ll miss you."

You burrow into his embrace, feeling the warmth. "I love you too," you whisper back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "And I'm glad we have this, something to keep you company when you're gone."

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