Tw: Death, 18+ Only: Sukuna Is Very Protective Over His Little Wife.

ONE, TWO, THREE...

✦SUMMARY

╰┈➤ your boyfriend choso gets the worst possible case of cuteness aggression at the wrong time...

✦C.W

╰┈➤ overstimulation, vaginal penetration, switch?choso, virgin!choso, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink idk, crying, this is pure smut enjoy, chubby reader appreciation, praise, 652 words, corruption kink prolly, reposted

"Hug-uhhh, hu-gh... ha-agh.. agh..."

Choso's chest heaved as he gulped in the thick, humid air, his lungs burning with each ragged breath. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes, mingling with the tears of overwhelming pleasure that streamed freely. He felt drunk on sensation, intoxicated by the exquisite tightness engulfing his aching cock.

This was madness, this insatiable hunger consuming him. This was his first time, no, second, (third?) time inside you. It didn't matter. All he knew is that he wanted, needed, his fourth. Sixth?

He gazed down at you, his vision blurred with adoration and lust. He must've have had the cutest girlfriend ever.

You was a vision, a goddess, sprawled out beneath him in utter submission. Your body was marked by his passion - teeth marks blooming on the soft skin, on the rolls of your doughy hips produced by the position he kneaded you in. He had you curled in on yourself, knees tucked under your chin, your watery gaze hidden beneath your arms.

Choso's gaze was drawn downward, captivated by the erotic sight of his thick cock that disappeared into your tight, cum-filled pussy. The delicate folds stretched obscenely around his girth, still puffy and glistening from the intense preparation it had taken to work him inside you. Each clench of your velvety walls sent ripples along his shaft, coaxing out more of his seed to ooze out around him.

Oh fuck... fuck, you were so adorable. What was that human saying? You were so adorable...

"...I could eat you up," he whimpered out loud, his head cloudy, raining his pleasure. "I wanna... Please..."

Choso's body pressed against yours, his skin slick with sweat, his muscles taut with exertion. He drove his cock deeper into you, filling you completely, stretching you to your limits. You gasped, a cry of pleasure and pain escaping your lips as he hit a spot deep inside that sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body.

He rocked his hips as he nibbled pathetically at your neck, grinding against your cervix. The wet squelch of his cock churning through the copious fluids inside you was positively obscene. "Please... I wanna... Hum-gh! I can't..."

His body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with sensation. His cock throbbed and pulsed within you, begging for release, for the sweet relief of orgasm. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. It felt like his very existence depended on this moment, on this connection between you two. He needed his fifth. Or his Seventh.

Choso's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of searing kisses in their wake. He nibbled and bit at your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin, the saltiness of your sweat. His hands found your breasts, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples until they were hard enough for him to suck on them.

The sensation sent jolts of electricity straight to your core, causing your inner walls to clench and flutter around his throbbing length.

"Choso!" you cried out, your voice high and breathy with pleasure. The sound of his name on your lips seemed to drive him wild, and he let out a low, almost pained groan against your skin.

He couldn't take it anymore, the overwhelming sensations threatening to consume him entirely. Your body was like a drug, and he was hopelessly addicted. With a growl of desperation, he began to move again, his hips snapping forward in a frenzied rhythm that bordered on animalistic.

The bed creaked and groaned beneath you as he pounded into you with reckless abandon, his thrusts lifting your hips off the mattress with each powerful stroke. It was almost too much, the pleasure bordering on pain, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

Instead, you met his movements with your own, rolling your hips.

You could've sworn it was night. So why was the sun peeking through your curtains, highlighting your debauchery?

Does anybody else not imagine themselves when they read ‘x reader’ fics or is that just me?

Like you imagine your oc instead of yourself

just… farmer!kita x housewife!reader but it’s the middle of the night & kita always has to be up early, and you feel so bad because he’s had such a long day and he deserves to rest… you’re just unbearably horny, and you can’t bring yourself to be selfish by waking him up, so you try to quietly masturbate next to him, struggling to discreetly get off, but you can’t hold back your whines or the fact that after being with him for so long, he’s trained your body to only respond to him. right when you’re about to give up, you feel him grab your wrist.

“what’re y’doin?” his voice is gravelly and thick with sleep, but the strength behind his grip is alive with energy. when he married you, he promised you that he’d provide for you. that includes wringing out orgasms from his pretty little wife whenever she wants. it’s not that he’s upset because you woke him up; he’s upset that you didn’t initially wake him up to help you, and now he’s going to have punish you.

Controversial younger s/o things

Slight mentions of like one nsfw thing, especially for Stanley, it’s not much but still I thought I should say.

Ford worries that he’s far too old for you, but yet is unable to keep his distance from you when you spent every waking moment at the shack with Soos, Wendy, Dipper and Mabel.

He feels like a perv whenever he lets his gaze linger a little too long on you for it to be platonic, yet he could never bring himself to look away as you had him bewitched mind, body and soul for all he knew and he didn’t mind it, even if it did mean he lost sleep dreaming about you being his youthful spouse who often stole his turtlenecks just to get his attention.

He thinks you could be better off with someone your own age, and yet despite believing this, Ford can’t help but harbour this mentality that he could treat you far, far better then anyone your own age. He’d worship the ground you walk on, treat you with respect, dignity and trust.

You’d probably be brought down to the lab quite often per his request. Ford claims he needs your opinion on something but the moment your down there, you’re making out with your back pressed against his workbench as his hands remained above your waist; maybe teasingly trailing to your thighs but still he’s a respective gentleman towards you forever and always.

There the moments you gladly wait all day for moments like these as you got to feel just how badly Ford wanted you in more ways then one ;)

You make out in his bed too but that’s only if you couldn’t make it to the lab, so Ford makes sure to lock the door when you do, for privacy and such.

There’s multiple entries about you and Ford’s conflicted feelings towards you followed with sketches of you looking the most beautiful he’s ever seen you. Seeing you be great and supportive with dipper and Mabel defiantly awakens something in him that he later puts down in the journal.

Will loose it if he ever saw you in his turtleneck, he’s not gods strongest soldier in their regards as he’s more then happy to get on his knees for you right then and there. You in his turtleneck is his secrete fantasy and to see it become reality is enough for this man to believe that there is a heaven.

Stanley feels that you deserve better then him

the girdle stays off! You don’t give a fuck, the girdle stays off and you will fucking hide it from him, much to his dismay but you love his tummy so, so so much!

Heated make outs in el Diablo while on road trips just the two of you at night.

Spoils you rotten however he could in meaningful ways, kinda feels sad that he can’t do more for you like you deserved but you didn’t care as you pepper his face with kisses and reassurance that he’s more then enough for you.

Probs gets jealous of you talking to other older men that has deeper pockets, but is smug as fuck the moment you came back to him with wads of their money in your hands as he pulls you in close by the waist and kisses you firmly on the lips saying, ‘that’s my girl/boy/ spouse.’

You will get love bites from him for making him jealous but also for making him so proud of his gorgeous/handsome/ beautiful spouse. You wear them with pride as you know no one else can elicit the same feeling as Stan did and he’d show off his own love bites with pride as he’s shameless and wants to show that he’s more then taken.

Does get moments of insecurity about your age gap but with a few words of reassurances, kisses and caresses to his body and he’s more than back to being confident of your relationship.

Stan wants you to sit on his lap all of the time, no excuses you’re on his lap and he gets the prettiest view of his unbearably cute spouse as his large hand rubs your thighs, getting progressively closer as to where you needed him most. ;)

Was rewatching a documentary on long tailed macaques (which I tend to imagine Wukong is based on), and they show how the alpha male will make this rough throaty sound that means it's time for everyone in the troop to climb up a sleeping tree and turn in for the night. Then I started thinking of Wukong (as I always do) and then…*gestures vaguely*

Can be any Wukong really, I didn’t have a specific one in mind when writing.

The fire crackles and pops in front of you, warming your feet and hands as you unwind from a long day. The trek over the mountain range is a draining one that leaves your feet sore and your lungs burning.

Bai Long Ma is settled down under the shady branches of a tree, his body curled protectively around Tang Monk even as he succumbs to sleep. The deep, even motion of his breathing doesn’t seem to bother Tang Sanzang, his eyes closed and back straight as he counts prayers on his mala. Wujing is propped up against the group's luggage, book in hand as he idly flips the pages. Bajie is curled up not far from the ogre, snoring away without a care in the world, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. You glance over your left shoulder, then your right, searching for the last member of your group. Where could he have-?

A rough chirping noise sounds from above, and you look up to see Wukong crouching in the tree above you, his tail curled around the branch he sits on.

“Oh, there you are-” You begin, only for him to interrupt you with a new sound from his throat. It’s different than the chirps he normally gives when he sees you or when going about the day. It’s a rougher sound, one that starts and ends in his throat, almost like a growl but…doesn’t sound aggressive. You raise an eyebrow, watching him carefully.

Your relationship had only recently changed, longing stares and subtle touches finally recognized and acknowledged. It was still very new territory for you both, and some hidden barriers between culture and language were being tested and explored. In the months you two have been traveling together, he’s never made this sound at you before.

“Everything okay Wukong?” You ask, slowly rising to your feet as you watch him. He mirrors your movements, hopping down from the tree and standing before you, his tail moving in a slow, lazy arc that you’ve come to recognize as relaxed but intent. When Wukong wants something done, he intends for it to be done, even if he has to step in and do it himself.

You just have no idea what he wants you to do.

He doesn’t respond with words, only making that throaty noise again, his eyes darting up and down your body as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’. You take a guess and step closer, grabbing his hand and smiling at him. Wukong blinks, heat rising to his cheeks that you can see despite the fur. He huffs a quick sigh, rolling his shoulders and turning away from you, tugging your hand behind him. You follow dutifully, trusting him with your safety.

He leads you only a short distance away from camp, the fire still clearly visible between the trees, but with a little more privacy. He stops suddenly at the base of a large camphor tree, and at the base, nestled among the roots is a sleeping spot already prepared. Your bedroll is even here already, propped up with leaves underneath to act as a cushy place to sleep for the night. Wukong undoes his tiger sash from his waist and hangs it over a low hanging branch before settling down on his own bedroll, tucked in right next to yours.

Charmed by the sight, you settle down next to him without complaint. The spot he picked has thick roots on either side to keep any chill in the air at bay, and you know you can rest easy that your companions are safe just a few feet away from you. You give a happy wiggle into your monkey’s warm side, pleased when he wraps his arm around your shoulders. When he tugs you to lay down beside him, you do so without complaint.

You’re face to face with him now, his intense eyes studying you. One of his hands comes up and brushes against your cheek, fingers tracing the curve down to your throat and over the hill of your shoulder, down your arm until his hand reaches yours. You tangle your fingers together, enjoying the warmth of his calloused palm against yours.

“Is this all you wanted? Some alone time?” You whisper to him, smiling in amusement at his silly ways.

He blinks at you for a moment, as if confused. Then his expression changes to one of realization, and he rolls his eyes up as he gives a defeated sigh.

“I haven’t taught you what the sound means yet, have I?” The hand not tangled with yours comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and you giggle at his exasperation.

“No, no I don’t think you did~” You coo. “I was so confused, I didn’t know what you wanted!” 

He joins in on your chuckling, pressing his forehead closer to yours and sharing your breath. You move your legs closer to his, happy when he returns the motion and slots his thigh in between yours. You can feel his opposable toes flexing against your calf muscles and see his tail curl into a comfortable position behind him. He repeats the sound from earlier, the rough not-quite-a-growl noise.

“That sound means bedtime.” He starts. “Monkeys in charge of a family will give that call when it’s time for everyone to climb into the safety of a tree for sleep. When I was…” He pauses for a moment, his eyes looking distant and sad. It’s an expression you’ve seen before, one he always gets when thinking of Mount Huaguo. You press a soft kiss to his lips to bring him back to you in the present.

It works.

“...Back home, when it was time for bed I would give that call. All the monkeys on the mountain, yaoguai or not, would listen. They would climb into Water Curtain Cave and find some place to settle down with friends and family. Regular monkeys preferred the giant trees in the cave, the yaoguais would go into our giant stone palace…” A gentle smile spread across his muzzle, one of his canines peeking out from under his upper lip.

“Not that I had strict rules about sleeping places. Some regular monkeys liked sleeping on the beds and some yaoguais never grew out of the habit of sleeping in the trees. As long as everyone was inside the safety of the cave and sleeping together, that's all that mattered to me.” He gives a small shrug, wrapping his free arm tight around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him. His hand still holding yours moved up so he could press a gentle kiss against the back of yours, his lips soft and warm where they touched you.

“Well,” You breathed, chest feeling heavy with emotion. It always rocked you to your core when he would be vulnerable like this with you, letting you see parts of him no one else had. Some would argue such tenderness didn’t exist in the Great Sage, but you knew better. “I’ll be sure to remember it now. Bedtime and bedtime cuddles for my sweet monkey when he calls for it~”

His face immediately burned at your words, his cheeks bright pink and his eyes looking down at your pressed together bodies instead of your own smiling face.

“S-sure. Just don’t…uhg-come here-!” He pulled your face closer, burying your head in the crook of his neck as he curled his warm body around you. Your giggles were muffled against the soft fabric of his clothes, his smell surrounding you on all sides.

Within minutes you were asleep.

bf choso texts!

navigating the world (technology and the internet) as a half-curse can get quite challenging, but luckily you’re there to help ur bf in his times of trouble!

 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ conts: fluff and crack

a/n: back from my unannounced hiatus 🙂‍↕️

comments are appreciated :)

dividers by: @konatasoup

clingy bf!sukuna...who swears that he is anything but clingy until he meets you.

clingy to the point where he follows you to the bathroom, keeping you company whilst you take a bath or a shower.

'Sukuna get out.'

'No I gotta piss.'

'You said that fifteen minutes ago and you're still here.'

'Gotta make sure you don't drown or something, you would do some stupid shit like that.'

'Gee thanks.'

also bf!sukuna being clingy to the point where he hangs around the kitchen whilst you cook or clean, following you around just to piss you off.

sukuna being clingy to the point where if you even move an inch off the couch whilst watching a movie, he immediately pauses the screen and asks you where you're going

'to get the popcorn obviously'

'oh.'

but the most clingy version of sukuna is when you wake up early in the morning and attempt to get ready for work.

keyword: attempt

it's like fighting a whole big cat similar to ones that you see in the zoo, sukuna's warm body trapping you in place underneath the sheets.

'i'm not doing this again with you sukuna...'

'mhmmmm.'

'i'm serious' you pinch his tattooed skin yet there's no reaction.

'm' serious too babe.' he groans. His eyes are closed with his pink locks messily arranged. His two hands wrap around your waist with nothing but security. 'you're not leaving.'

'I have a job, a commitment.'

'Is our marriage not a commitment?'

'we're not married 'kuna.'

There's a pause and for a second you think that Sukuna has fallen back to sleep.

'yet.'

'what did you just say?!'

You twirled in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of the dress. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

Gojo, leaning casually against the wall, gave you one look. One long look. And then, without a word, his body started tipping backward.

“Gojo?” you called, confused, as he fell in slow motion, arms flopping out like he was surrendering to gravity itself.

He hit the floor with a soft thud, still grinning like a lovesick idiot. “Wow,” he exhaled, his voice faint. “You’re... you're perfect.”

You blinked at him, startled. Then it clicked, and laughter bubbled out of you. “Did you just faint?!”

“Didn’t faint,” he slurred, one hand half-heartedly waving in the air. “Just... relocating my blood supply. Give me a sec.”

You crouched beside him, still laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Do you like the dress that much, baby?”

Gojo blinked up at you, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Like it? Babe, it’s a health hazard. You might wanna warn people before stepping out in that.”

---

Bonus

As he sat up, still looking a little dazed, he squinted at you with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Wait, pumpkin... what color are your panties?”

Without missing a beat, you shrugged innocently. “Oh, I’m not wearing any.”

Gojo froze, his face shifting from playful to utterly overwhelmed in seconds. Then, with zero warning, he collapsed back onto the floor dramatically.

“Gojo!” you squealed through uncontrollable laughter, holding his head as he sprawled out like he’d just been KO’d. He groaned faintly, grinning despite himself.

“Y/N,” he muttered, voice weak, “have some mercy on this weak man.”

⋆˚｡⋆ ౨ৎ mark’s annoying ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

“mhm” You murmur sleepily, you feel Marks mouth slot against yours, a perfect fit really. The feeling of soft kisses against your skin is what lulls you out of your siesta. “Mark, cut it out.” You grumble, palms splaying out against his toned chest lightly pushing. “One more.” he says softly, pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. Hes been off planet for a while, what can he say? He missed you, more than he thought he would.

You turn on your side, hoping that maybe you can drift off to sleep again, the “welcome home” had been particularly tiring. He drags you closer by your waist, pressing his chest against your back, gently brushing your hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck. Lightly scraping his teeth against your skin till you get chills and eventually grumble again. He pulls his your shirt to the side to rub the skin of your shoulder. He just wants to touch you, kiss you, smell you, love you.

“You smell like me.” He grumbles, wrapping his arms around your middle, sliding his hands under your shirt to run his fingers over the waistband of your panties. “You’re an idiot.” You murmur back, sighing softly. Of course you smell like him, wearing his clothes, and sleeping in his bed. “Don’t be mean.” He says and you can feel him smiling against your neck, his hands snake up to your boobs, giving them a squeeze. “Mark!” You groan again, and he just giggles.

credit to @adornedwithlight for banners

communication is a pillar of the sukuna household. and that means a full debrief after kindergarten is absolutely non-negotiable. 

the three of you are stationed at the living room couch, babykuna positioned squarely between you and sukuna, legs swinging as she recounts the major political events of the day—how she valiantly stopped a classmate from consuming a crayon (a heroic feat, if she does say so herself), how she devoured every last bite of her snack (because growing warriors need fuel), and how she bravely faced the trials of nap time.

but the moment your fingers start combing through her soft yet unruly hair, it’s game over. mid-sentence, her voice slows, then slurs, and before either of you can intervene, she’s slumped forward, using sukuna’s stomach as a very cushy, very comfortable pillow. the air is filled with the sound of soft, rhythmic snores.

sukuna, meanwhile, looks like he's in the throes of a full-blown crisis. his face is bright red, eyes wide, jaw clenched as he tries—desperately—to suppress the violent wave of cuteness aggression overtaking his entire body. you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing with the sheer force of his willpower. his fingers twitch. his breathing is uneven. the sheer adorableness of the situation is threatening to send him into an unhinged outburst, and you know if you don’t intervene, he’s going to lose it.

“honey,” you murmur, barely above a whisper. “breathe.”

“i am,” he rasps, voice strained, fists clenching against his thighs. “barely.”

and when babykuna lets out a particularly soft little sigh in her sleep, nuzzling deeper into his stomach, sukuna makes a noise so ungodly you’re concerned he might actually explode on the spot.