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simillia · 2 years

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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎— 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a scenario where we discuss the unconsciously enticing behavior of our beloved pillars.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: descriptions of romance, charming routines, suggestive content, and more. relatively vanilla.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: neutral! reader + tengen uzui + kyojuro rengoku + giyu tomioka + sanemi shinazugawa!

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈; the sound hashira.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 

— this man is definitely the type to place his hands on the small of your back for guidance. applying, just enough, pressure to keep you moving. but not enough to harm and/or rush you.

— he is the type to grip your jaw between his thumb and index finger, as a way to gather your attention or to simply bring you in for a kiss.

— subconsciously has a habit of running his fingers against the ball of his shoulders when beginning to either train or fight. looking deadly serious.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 

— speaking of training, tengen has a tendency to warm-up his skills with a flashy showcase; one that caters to the way he handles his blades with ease. a cocky ass smirk on those pristine lips.

— can, and will, manspread against a chair as if he were some sort of mystic being. thrusting his hips to re-adjust his bottoms. hand placed firmly on that muscular thigh.

— has a habit of removing his undershirt with just a thumb and forefinger. yanking it from the back instead of the bottom. fuck !

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔; the flame hashira.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚 

— could be in a room filled with over a thousand gorgeous human-beings; bodies attractive by societies standards. and he wouldn’t look at none of them.

— he’d solely watch you and you, alone. smothering golden irises trailing your figure intensely. not caring about anyone else. honestly, his eyes would be on you the moment you entered the room.

— is definitely the type of man to admire your beauty without an ounce of shame, running a finger across his lower lip in innocent desire.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙢𝙨 

— has a habit of positioning himself directly behind you on a train. tilting those broad shoulders towards anyone who got relatively close. if, by chance, there is seating, he’d offer up his own and allow you to take it. despite the protests.

— will literally offer to take care of any needs. for example, if you were wearing heels on a night out, he’d carry you on his back until you got to where you needed to be. a gentleman at heart.

— he’d be the kind of guy who’d, not only, walk you home but wait until you made it inside before he leaves for his own place. chivalry is not dead with this one.

— bonus; his boisterous laugh. and the way he’ll lean back, possibly slamming a hand against his chest at something hilarious <3

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀; the water hashira.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 

— will replenish any items he notices are low; need some more shampoo (?) another bottle with literally appear with no explanation of when or how it got there.

— he is not the best at showing his emotions therefore will do little gestures to make up for it. such as, run his hand across the edge of the table whenever you accidentally drop something on the floor. wanting to provide cushion if you were to bump it on the way back up.

— is the type to allow you to do anything to him; braid his hair, apply makeup, lay a wig— anything! though, he’ll remain blank-faced the entire time.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 

— is the type to play with your hair, dragging fingers against your scalp as he listens to your read one of your favorite books. simply loves the sound of your voice.

— has a knack for memorizing everything. if you mention wanting a certain sword, book, or set, prepare to have it appear at your doorstep. and will leave reminder notes around— say, you’re to forget something.

— observational skills are at the maximum when it comes to you. whenever there is a change in mood or a doubt, he’ll always be able to tell. he might ask, but will never pry.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀; the wind hashira.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 

— will simply pat your head as a form of comfort, affection, and encouragement. though his words may seem brash, that physical expression will contradict venom each and every time.

— but he also has no problem gripping you by the base of your throat to either bring you closer to him or to put you in your place. opting to squeeze gently, if you happen to piss him the fuck off.

— he is usually the type to bellow in anger however do not purposely provoke him because he is the type to lower his voice immensely when handling his jealousy or annoyance with you.

 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 

— remember the voice thing (?) yeah, well that is the most attractive trait he has. especially first thing in the morning when you’ve just woken him up. those next couple sentences are going to be hoarse, deep, and sleepy.

— has a habit of getting firm when faced with something he doesn’t like; except he will not raise his voice at you. instead he’d smoothly but aggressively will tell you to stop with the bullshit.

— grunts and groans when working out, body just littered with sweat. as each set gets more challenging, so will the noises falling from those plump lips.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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hey there, can i request a megumi fushiguro x chubby fem reader please? megumi pining to reader and being completely unashamed of it. thank you and have a good day.

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the undefeated champion of underground, mixed-martial arts, falls in love with his medic.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: romance, tooth-rotting fluff, mma! fighter au, body-worshiping, light make-out session, lowercase.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: megumi fushiguro x chubby! reader.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 — honey, i’m so sorry for making you wait for this response, hope you’re satisfied with this prompt. <3

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 — ᥫ᭡

megumi fushiguro, underground champion of the hidden ring, silently advances towards the center stage; fist drawn with precision. taking no time to think, he retracts quick enough to weave passed a few sharp swings. inhaling softly, those onyx irises faintly stare at the opposing fighter; prompting him to strike hard and fast. three, carefully aimed, punches to the head are all it took to make his prey crumble against the mat. thus, the match had ended brutally. with him raising a steady fist— defending his title as the undefeated king, once again.

the bell rings promptly, as a affirmation that solidified the reality of this win; whilst officially declaring this fight over. satisfied, an arena of cheers broke through an invisible silence. upon hearing such a standing ovation, the champ lightly smirks before walking to his corner. there, his team awaits with open arms and determined smiles. on their way to the back room, spectators briefly replayed recent events in disbelief. simply because they couldn’t believe how incredibly talented the fushiguro name had become in less than a year. much credit to the rigorous training regiments and complex formations created by gojo satoru— a retired heavyweight champion.

“excellent work out there— had the arena shaking in disbelief,” gojo exclaims, pressing a steady hand to the back of his protégé’s head; grinning from ear to ear. those bright and shimmering irises hidden behind a pair of dark shades, despite being within a dimly lit building. “a takedown that quick hasn’t happened in years. what made you go for such a tactic?”

“didn’t feel like wasting my time,” megumi responds lowkey, unwrapping bandages from his bruised knuckles, whilst entering this personalized dojo as the newly appointed titleholder. his darkened irises follow the sound of deepened grunts and firm jabs to a punching bag. a head of strawberry blonde hair peaked from around the corner, with the television sounding. replays and discussion about this night echoed through. holding the bag still, is one of the top female fighters in the game; nobara kugisaki— her almond eyes re-watching the calculated punches of her colleague, in absolute amazement.

hearing the incoming conversation, yuji itadori playfully chuckles a response— to a question he wasn’t even asked, “you don’t have to lie! we pretty much know the truth, dude.”

“and that is?” his question didn’t take much time, at all, to be answered by his fellow colleague. deep down inside, he knew what the goofy-idiot planned to say. and, as much as one would hate to admit it, the boy was right about that much.

“you’re just in a rush to see your little girlfriend,” yuji playfully retorts, rushing to jab the center of heavy bag once more. sweat trickling down his forehead, allowing his chiseled biceps to flex and shine against the light and strain. is it such a crime, to want to finish a fight earlier? honestly, it makes room for the more intimate moments in life. preferably a night spent with a partner— whom, will most likely focus on patching up the wounds of his battle. ideally, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“that has nothing—,” megumi hadn’t even begun to respond when he is ultimately cut off by his instructor.

“girlfriend!? since when?” gojo is stumbling over his feet in absolute shock. there is nothing weird about fighters having a significant other— however, it is absolutely terrifying to hear that someone as stoic and irritable as megumi has the slightest interest in someone. that poor girl; doesn’t even know what she’ll be getting herself into, dealing with him. how’d this happen? when did this happen? and why wasn’t he told? it’s as if he didn’t raise the boy half his life.

hearing this exaggerated cry of confusion, nobara faces both parties with a teasing smirk of her own, “you haven’t figured it out yet? he pretty much simps over her everyday.”

everyone watched as the white-haired male grasps at the soft tufts of his tresses in absolute distress. he couldn’t believe the his ears, and to think he hasn’t even met her yet. or has he? the only woman who can stand his personality for long, other than those he trains with, is his childhood friend. could it be? man, he really hasn’t been paying attention has he?

“you literally have no idea! just yesterday—,” yuji chuckles, getting ready to indulge in a hilariously cute story. before he is unintentionally interrupted by a deepened sigh of anger and exhaustion. which ultimately silenced the voices of everyone.

having had enough of the teasing, megumi placed the bandages in the disposal and collected his robes from a hook on the wall. on a good day, he’d argue with these three clowns. but, tonight he had other places he’d rather be. cracking open the back door, he mutters curtly, “m’going to the medic, don’t wait up.”

as they called his name, he blocked their voices and quickly shut the door behind himself. those onyx irises staring at the photographed wall as he calmly walked to the medical wing. perhaps, they were right. he is a fool for love. who wouldn’t be for someone as enduringly beautiful as you are— the trained medic. he remembers meeting you as if it were yesterday. starting with him entering the hospital ward after a hectic fight; heavily injured and exhausted, wanting to be at peace. and there enters the prettiest nurse he’s ever set his wiry optics on. a nurturing soul is an absolute understatement; you’re a queen. so thick and utterly curvaceous with the most charming smile, delicate features, pretty hair, and a scent of delicate oak so subtle that nobody, including you, would notice. honestly, he was stunned by your body type— plump from head to toe, with gentle fingers that worked to sterilize a needle. smitten from that moment on, he disclosed his interest slowly before winning you over completely.

halting at the sight of another entrance, megumi exhaled softly before proceeding into the room; and there you sat against the couch, television re-enacting several programs— mixed martial arts being one of the first. you made sure of it, not wanting to miss a single thing. though, his sudden appearance made your gaze leave the screen quickly. a smile brightening the room after realizing.

“well— aren’t you here early,” you muttered softly, moving away from furniture and walking to assist in mending any injury. your fingertips danced across his soft skin, trailing to find anything for repair. “after a fight like that— i wasn’t expecting you to come.”

“you were watching, huh?” he rasped out, finding the gesture to be incredibly enduring. grasping at your palms, he leans towards the warmth of your touch. releasing a sigh of exhaustion. he had some bruised knuckles: consisting of scarred tissue and broken skin.

noticing these slight damages, you prompted to use a disinfectant pad that’ll work to cleanse the sore and soak up pools of dried blood. you worked diligently, not wanting to risk an infection while responding to his questions wholeheartedly, “when am i not? i’m your biggest supporter, remember?”

“you’ve mentioned,” he chuckles to himself, eyebrows rising in utter contentment. watching as you tendered his calloused hands with such care.

“you’ve got to learn to be more careful," you chaste, wrapping bandages around them once more before tossing out the used padding and equipment. “hate having to patch you up all the time— it worries me.”

megumi runs his bandaged fingers against the base of your neck, leaning forth to capture those plush cheeks in kisses. plentiful with his appreciation. each peck made that smile grow bigger, until you were grinning. he did this quite often, opting to showcase his love through acts of service and touch. “forgive me for worrying you so much— i’ll try not to make a habit out of it.”

finishing with one final kiss to the forehead, you turned to stare into the prettiest shade of onyx black irises imaginable. amused by his love, you shakily reach out to touch his jaw— wanting to make sure this is real and not a feverish daydream. his skin is soft beneath your fingers as they traced the scars that danced upon his cheeks and when doing so a smile appears.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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Hi, are requests open? Also I love the aesthetics of your blog

hello, sweetheart— yes, request are open 🧚🏾‍♀️

— remember to be detailed and specific in what you’re looking to see. please. please, tell me whether it should be regular or smut: nsfw or sfw. otherwise it’ll be written traditionally. other than that, feel free to send me some goodies to write ! ✨✨✨

— also. thank you for loving my blog design. wanted to do something cute like a library with simple colors. so it definitely just made my day 🥰❤️ to see you say that. kisses to you darling 💋💋

xo, similia 🐣

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simillia · 2 years

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Could I request something with Aizawa from MHA with a chubby reader?

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: whilst waiting for the underground hero, erasure, a feline appears with oddly similar features to him.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: romance, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, lowercase. general content.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: aizawa shouta x chubby! reader.

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 — ᥫ᭡

with a broken sigh, your glossy retinas watch as the comely azure skylines become faded with coal grey clouds; rain poured violently falls from above, pecking the body with plenty of wet kisses. holding a medium-sized umbrella, you wait patiently at the entrance of, japan’s finest academy for heroism, yuuei. in search of your fiancé of six years. since a typical school day ends around two-thirty, most employed teachers and assistants depart no later than five. and though many did, only one person remained unseen. the erasure hero, shouta aizawa is nowhere to be found. didn’t matter how many times you desperately called his phone. the ringer would go to voicemail every time— which is unusual for him.

glancing over your shoulder, another manicured finger brushed against the screen of this smartphone. sending out one final message before shoving the electronic device in a bag. sometimes dating a pro-hero can be more than bargained for. because, though he is more than capable of taking care of himself, the mere thought of something happening still plagues the back of your mind. ‘specially since aizawa loves and cares for his students more than anything and would give his life to protect them. as seen during the villain attack several weeks prior where he could’ve been killed. thinking about the sight of his bandaged body brought sorrow to your fragile heart.

could he have gone home early? you thought to yourself, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. with the weather being so poor, the best option would be to go home and wait it out; deciding to go with that, you placed the phone in your pocket and made a be-line for the outer gate. taking a step forth, a small black cat with a glossy coat, a beige scarf tied around the neck, and a scar beneath the eye crossed the pathway. it stopped as soon as it made direct eye contact with you. oddly enough, those onyx orbs held such humane emotion as it closely monitored every movement made. caught in a trance, you kneeled to the concrete.

“you poor thing— here, let’s get you out of the rain,” carefully, you picked the beautiful creature up. scratching its ears, as it purred blissfully and snuggled into the plump tissue of your arms. from the general perspective, this kitten is male with no collar or tracking device. there was something oddly familiar about this one— but, no matter how long you stared, nothing seemed to connect. not wanting to leave him out in the streets, you prompted to take him home. aizawa, happened to love cats. maybe, and that is a understatement, he might let you keep him.

briskly walking— it took no long than seven minutes to return. thankfully, the sky began to look more beautiful as the clouds cleared. hardly anyone roamed around this time of evening, with the exception of couples and a few families heading home for the night. a silence squeezes through the air, as you walk up the stairway to the front door of your shared apartment. placing the kitten down, his darkened orbs gleaming with intent; just watching as you carefully fumbled through several pockets, slowly searching for the house keys.

“just wait ‘till my fiancé sees you— he won’t be able to resist,” you boast with happiness, shakily twisting the knob. completely missing the softened gaze of the feline beside you. giving a gentle smile, the door opened to reveal a quiet and darkened living room. after ushering him inside, you flip the light switch and call out for your partner. “anyone home? aizawa.”

met with total silence, you chew your bottom lip anxiously. shutting the door, quickly. before checking your cellphone for any missed calls. nothing.

“where the hell is he?”

the question had been rhetorical, but still received a answer from this stray. a short, well-timed, hiss could be heard. turning around, you witnessed the animal staring deeply into your soul.

“why does it feel like you know something i don’t?” is a question you asked him, confused. the said feline, sarcastically rolls his eyes; walking passed with the intention of lounging on the yellow comforter laying in the corner. “make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

easily irritated by the remark, the feline meows wistfully. eyes annoyed and body relaxed. yeah— this guy has some serious mood-swings. tossing everything on the couch, you plop down and scroll through notifications. calling once or twice more, with the same result. groaning in distress, you proceed to send a few messages. whilst typing, the cat quickly jumps upon the armrest of the couch. completely abandoning his resting area. he paws at the screen of your phone, begging for attention. staring at him, you watched as he rubbed one eye and nuzzled into that scarf. placing the phone down, you message his back. stunned by his cuteness. to be honest, his little ticks reminded you of aizawa so much.

“guessing you want me to stop worrying, huh? m’sorry ‘bout that. it’s just so hard not too,” you mummer, allowing the cat to cuddle against the plush of your belly. “you see— aizawa, my fiancé, can be real rough around the edges. but once you peel back the tough exterior, he’s just a huge softy. loves his students, even loves me. and i just don’t wanna lose him.“

with a loving stare, the delicate creature nuzzles into your plumpness. allowing you to caress his fur.

“sorry to dump that on you— you’re probably just wondering when dinner is, huh?”

purring softly, the feline merely shook his head and continued to lay. content with this position, you smiled and constantly checked your phone before falling asleep; whilst waiting for your fiancé’s return. unknowingly to you, aizawa had been there in cat form, watching. he’d always found you to be attractive, adoring the softness that is you. his heart swelled at the speech you made. he didn’t expect to hear how strongly you felt about him. and he ultimately hated not being able to cease your worrying. instead, he accepted the responsibility of protecting you while you slept. see— he is unable to rest comfortably with the door being unlocked. and due to him being a cat because of a quirk experience gone wrong, he could do it for you.

aizawa does have a hard time admitting that just like he’d kill for the safety of his students. he’d kill for the safety of his fiancé. curling against your side, he took in the warmth of your gorgeous full-figured body. counting down the hours until this lifted. once he turned human again, he couldn’t think of anything more than wanting to take your relationship to the next level. marriage.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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can I request a shinmon benimaru or akitaru obi with a chubby fem reader?

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when a small celebration is held within the seventh guardhouse; two lovers get drunk and very handsy.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: alcohol consumption, body-praise, intense make-out, drabbles, lowercase. mature content— sexual activity.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: shinmon benimaru x chubby! reader.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 — ᥫ᭡

the streets of asakusa grew dimmer as the sun dipped further into the horizon— allowing dozens of shimmering lanterns to glow throughout the already darkened facility. a party brewed within the seventh tonight; featuring traditional food, ridiculous games, dancing, and other types of entertainment. soon becoming hushed with whispers as smooth melodies played from sound instrumentals. even the savory aromas of ikayaki, baked squid, wafted through the evening air prompting more members to gather and engage in the delicacy of liquor. when the clock hit twelve, everyone had already been wasted.

crescent-shaped ice began to melt inside the mini-glass of sparkling water. with a deafening sigh, you leaned sat upon the countertop and watched as the night began to wither away. a small smile rose upon your plush cheeks as the captain stood between those thick thighs and poured yet another two shots of sake. grinning like a psycho, he served the drink and both of you downed them like alcoholics. humming lightly, the words finally come out, “waka— stop, before we get too drunk.”

“it’s a little too late for that,” he responds in a low tone. acting purely on unspoken emotions, he leans forth and pecks the cushions of your cheeks. they gaze against the skin before pressing against the collar bone. his finger moves the fabric of your blouse aside to kiss your shoulder. any conversation had been lost in physical translation the moment you relished in his touch. this happens nearly every time a celebration comes around. the both of you become overly clingy of each other. completely disregarding the others.

which is hilarious to think about considering the king of destruction hardly has time to waste in a committed relationship. ironically, however— he couldn’t deny the obvious attraction held for the healer hired several months ago. never thought that quote, first impressions are everything, would matter in life but it did with winning the captain over. he remembered the day vibrantly; with him entering the hospital ward, heavily injured and exhausted, wanting to be at peace. and here enters the prettiest nurse he’s ever set his gleaming orbs on. a young woman, with gleaming skin, nubile hair, pretty lips, and pretty eyes. enamored by your stunning mien, he’d watch as you move with grace to mend his wounds. honestly, he’d be strung by your beauty and body type— plump from head to toe, plush cheeks, arms, stomach. everything. took quite a while for him to act on it though. since he has been very subtle and earnest with the presentation.

anyway— back to the story at hand. shinmon benimaru couldn’t hold water. intoxicated after only a few drinks. passionately planting kisses upon your glossed lips of yours. those lips, sweet boy— those lips work wonders against your own. moving with a passion. his large hands run down the sides of your stomach, unintentionally squeezing the pudge. molding his fingers into it. pulling away, you lightly run your own hands through his onyx locks. pulling gently, which induced a husky grunt.

“don’t tease me [y/n],” he scolds breathlessly, eyeing the male sternly. the intensity of his gaze made you melt into that of a puddle, igniting a flustered reaction by having a hunger-like expression flash across his face. “it won’t end well for you.”

admiring his honesty, you smile softly before seductively baiting him, “good— i don’t want it to.”

“what a seductress you are,” he mutters in response. and at some point, you found yourself traveling down the curves that make his face, stopping at the base of his plump lips, and when he made the move to pull away, you grasp onto the chest of his robes. there he pauses, body coming closer unintentionally before he is leaning into places sloppy kisses upon your collarbone. hands caressing the pudge of your stomach, again.

releasing a subtlety sweet laugh, you swat his fingers away. shivering when at the intimacy. “should we go to the room?”

shinmon smiles innocently, this being because of the alcohol flourishing through his system; nothing else. “we should.”

thus insinuating another kiss. both bodies pressed together heatedly against the countertop, lips parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside. moaning into his mouth, he calmly wraps those arms around your thighs. gripping your body, and lifting you in with ease. his strength carried you as if it were the easiest thing to do. before walking down the hall and into his sleeping chambers for some personal alone time. and yes— it happened to be the best night of your life.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: before leaving to embark on a long journey, the flame hashira relieves tension through comforting sex.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: established relationship, very vanilla, romance. smut— massive body worship; praise, excessive biting; marking, gentle riding. lowercase. mature content— sexual activity.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kyojuro rengoku x wife! reader.

the hushed clicking of a slow-moving clock and gentle peaks of sunlight indicated that dawn had only been a millimeter away from opening the horizon— while waiting, a cracked window allows a bristling breeze to tussle on through. warmth enters the area as whimpering moans bounced off the walls of this modern bedroom like smooth silk. the beautiful sounds collide with the huskiest of groans, mixing to create a melody that purged through the air like a conspicuous orchestra. at some point, what had started as an early morning turned into a session of delicious intimacy. pure, unimaginably raw sex. bodies completely bare and skin glistening from working up quite a trickling sweat.

“kyojuro— please, it feels s’good,” you breathlessly whine, soft hands holding onto the taut muscle of this man and his gloriously toned pectorals; just basking in a pleasurable cycle.

releasing a joyful laugh, rengoku lays beneath your bouncing figure. one calloused hand firmly guiding your waist while the other draws close to the base of your neck. running those gentle fingertips against the open skin before touching the loose ends of un-clipped hair. such an intimate touch. though quiet, that chuckle of his is light; almost airy and angelic but in a masculine way. both the sound and gorgeous visual that is his bright smile and golden irises nearly knock the wind out of you. how can someone so incredibly powerful, laugh so beautifully? then again, that has always been the type of person he embodied; an honorable warrior who believes in the idealism that is protecting those he loves. like you— his loving and affectionate wife.

“mmm— yes, beautiful, I know,” he responds, watching carefully as your body trembles against him. loving the way your cushioned walls would pulsate after a nice thrust. sucking him in for more while coating him in that divine liquid. he truly felt everything. “keep going, you’re doing so well.”

rengoku isn’t one to be shy about they way he feels, he’d want the whole world to know how much he admires a woman like you— because interestingly enough, there is nobody that rings close. and to witness someone embrace beauty so effortlessly, is refreshing. from his eyes, you have the prettiest morning glow a person could ever represent with glossy retinas, a slight mess of hair, and the puffiest lips that had just a sliver of drool running from the corner. the print of his thumb gently runs over the plump flesh of your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go. moments like these should be cherished. since the life of a hashira can be cut short at any feasible moment. often times during a rigorous battle. and for you, he swore to fight regardless.

hearing the breathless plea fall from your lips again, he couldn’t help but hopelessly admire the way your hips dance. producing shallowed thrust that pushed to indulge in the spreading of your flesh walls. a vibrating moan escapes his lips when he feels the way you move to grasp at his soft hair. not a second later, that dripping cunt begins tightening around him. humming lightly, he grips your hips a little harder. releaseing a deep, stuttering sigh, “ha— you’re so pretty, my love. making such a mess on me.”

“m’gonna cum if you keep talking like that,” you express, pulling him closer to your body; his washboard abs are now shuddering against the bare front of your stomach— chest upon chest. he is sitting up with you riding him against the comforter. his head soon rests upon your shoulder, as sultry grunts fall from his lips at the pleasure of your buttery walls clamping around him.

“good,” he seethes through clenched teeth the rope keeping him from going wild snaps and so does his hips. at first, they were shallowed thrust, pushing to indulge in the warmth of your body before they become almost animalistic. “that’s all I want.”

whenever rengoku is scheduled to embark on a long journey away, you always seem to passionately explore each other’s body the morning before departure. however, something in the air cause an uneasy feeling to wrap around you like a blanket. something about this upcoming mission is making you extra nervous. but no matter how much you begged, he refused to deny his responsibility. the looming thought crosses your mind again, prompting you to cling onto the broad shoulders of your beloved. “m’cumming. fuck— i love you kyo.”

“i love you so much more,” he breaks. the friction is non-stopping, building up like water clogged in a pipe. with the base of his shaft dragging against your clit and his balls slapping to bring you to an all-new high. then, he angles his hips just right, causing both of you to moan in pleasure. clinging onto each other, both of you reach that limit allowing the tsunami of pleasure to take over. bodies shaking mid-orgasm and shallow breaths could be heard throughout the empty room.

with his face stuffed against your shoulder and yours against his, tears begin to fall like rain from those glossy retinas of yours. rengoku places wet kisses upon the shoulder refusing to let go, well— that is until he felt droplets land against his naked skin. instantly alerted, he pulls you back and runs a few of his fingers against the crown on your head. planting gentle kisses upon your cheeks; trying to make sure no more tears start falling. “please don't cry, beautiful— talk to me.”

“you’ll come back to me, won’t you?”

smiling softly, placing a hand upon those cute cheekbones, he rubs a thumb underneath curve of your eye to wipe them away, “of course, my love. won’t rest until i’m back in your arms.”

basking in the promise of his words, you lean in to capture a kiss. his lips are soft, almost molding against your own. a silken moan falls from you when he moves to cup the pudge of your cheeks. his scent fills your nose with a hint of masculine cologne and sweat, the combination is soothing. melting against him, you enjoy the few moments you have left. praying for his return and ignoring the unpleasant twirl of butterflies in your stomach.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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hello, can i request rengoku kyojoru x chubby reader?

𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after several encounters, a traveling cordon bleu enjoys a good meal with some of her favorite people.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: tooth-rotting fluff, very vanilla, physical attraction. drabbles, lowercase. general content— open to all audiences.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kyojuro rengoku x chubby! reader.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 — ᥫ᭡

a savory aroma of seasoned miso soup and salted grilled bream wafted throughout the entire kitchenette, even after being contained in a wooden-styled bento box; decorated in cloth. wiping away the remains of spices, you smiled softly at the thought of creating such fine cuisine for the one, you love, to enjoy. everything looks so beautiful wrapped up, you thought while removing the apron. soon a loud creaking of the old barrier door alerted you of incoming company, footsteps stumbled down the stairs with haste. senjurō enters, a stifling laugh falling from his lips as he admired the room, “what are you in here cooking today, big sis? it smells great.”

“just some of your brothers’ favorites for lunch— nothing special,” you hum lightly, growing highly embarrassed to have been caught right before departure.

everyone in town has a thing for rengoku kyojuro— the flame hashira of the slayer corporation. despite being beautiful, which is an understatement when describing his appearance, he is a literal ray of sunshine. best known for being kind-hearted and protective of simple folk; receiving praise for having saved many from demon transformation. and like everyone else, you respected him for it. been this way since you fell in love with him several years prior. that day still circulates through your mind vibrantly; on a cold winters’ day, actually. during the emergence of snow, you found yourself blindly running him over while carrying an armful of groceries. well, more like he stood there solid while you fell. anyway, kindly, the male offered a hand; golden irises shimmering in the light while smiling so charmingly. thus opening the door to one hell of an amazing relationship.

so grateful to have him, you couldn’t help but spend every waking moment wondering why? with the amount of attention he receives from the more pretty and petite population, surly there’d be a chance of seeing him with an ample person like yourself. and due to the underlying insecurities within, you had a hard timing believing that he is really yours. which is why you’ve settled on becoming his personal chef. by choice, of course. wanting to make sure he’d have no reason to leave. senjurō walks over to the several packed lunches, grabbing them, “ugh— big bro is so lucky to have you. he’d probably starve otherwise.”

“thank you, honey— but, i’m the lucky one,” you respond, laughing lightly at his words. moving to brush a few plump fingers against the child’s cheek, pinching ever so softly. leaning into your touch, he smiles. before grabbing the japanese lunch box and rushing out the front door of this traditional compound. senjurō has a habit of coming to your shop after a day of swordsmanship practice, just to help with deliveries. literally the sweetest kid ever.

anyway, you followed after. making sure to read over this well-drawn map. according to it, the forest route outside your village leads to an ancient, and elegantly crafted mansion. used as the headquarters for slayer corporation and surprisingly, the journey didn't take up much time; only a strong fifteen minutes briskly walking. mildly hushed chimes of fast-paced metal penetrates through the air. each clash could be heard from a mile away. pausing, you turn to the sound and follow it to an opened space. right before entering the secret palace, one distance figure stood in a battlefield formation.

traveling further down the gravel-made pathway, you seemingly began to recognize who inhabited the area; rengoku. felt as if the whole world started spinning in slow motion. the male is drastically built to perfection, every crevice of his taunt and firm muscles dripped with sweat. the upper half of his body remained shirtless, but he did wear some traditional pants. arms flexing with every bladed strike against the mannequin dummies. that long, fiery blonde hair of his hung low passed his shoulders; bangs framing his chiseled face. the intensity of his stare almost set your body on ablaze. releasing a steady breath, you place a hand upon your beating heart. damn, that body is so mesmerizing. whew, the things you would do to him if you were alone. and you knew, he sensed your presence. however, he was too immersed in a rigorous training session, testing breathing techniques and sword placement, to acknowledge it. that is one trait you realized he had unconditionally picked up. stopping near a oak tree, you admired the leadership of this man. watching as he portrayed his righteousness through practical lessons.

smiling softly, you decided to make your presence known— waving a hand, the soft glow of your glossy retinas following the outline of the warrior, “kyo— why don’t you take a break?”

startled by the unexpected entrance, rengoku grips the hilt of his blade. the boy glances over, sheathing his weapon and smiling brightly at the mere sight of you and his adoring brother. he admired the smooth texture of your pretty skin. enamored by your stunning mien, he watches as you moved with grace to bring over lunch. honestly, he is strung by the your beauty and body type— plump from head to toe, plush cheeks, arms, stomach. everything. pausing all movement, he stands to address both of you properly. “my love— you shouldn’t be traveling such distances without protection.”

“she had the greatest protector there is, in me,” senjurō teases, running to his older brother’s side. whilst waving the bento box around. some of that compacted scent seeping out.

a gentle hand is placed upon the crown of his dome— fingers feathered through the textured tresses that scoured around wildly regardless of placement and style. whilst performing this movement, rengoku releases a boastful laugh, “consider me thankful, young one. well done.”

brushing his hand away, the child comes and removes the final bento from your hands before taking off in the direction of a wooden table, “i’ll go set up.”

at his departure. rengoku releases a joyful laugh, moving one calloused hand to your waist while the other draws close to the base of your neck. running those gentle fingertips against the open skin before touching the loose ends of un-clipped hair. both his bright smile and golden irises nearly knock the wind out of you. as he dances kisses upon your knuckles. “you didn’t have to come all this way, blossom.”

flustered by his utter attraction, you sheepishly rub the back of your neck in embarrassment, “it was no trouble— besides i’ve been missing you lately.”

“i’ve missed you so much more,” acting on unspoken emotions, he leans forth and pecks the cushions of your cheeks. they graze against the skin before pressing against the collar bone. his finger moves the fabric of your blouse aside to kiss your shoulder. any previous conversation had been lost in physical translation the moment you relished in his touch. unlike the first time, something about this is slow and giving. so giving, that he cups the pudge of your cheeks and kisses you with a passion. “can’t wait to come home to you.”

“hopefully you will soon,” you murmur, drawing circles against the bareness of his pectorals. basking in the warmth of his embrace for as long as you possibly could. loving every moment spent with this divine man. missions come and go, and they can be rigorously intense. which is why you have no problem bringing him a meal or two. because spending time with the family is all you’d ever wish for.

senjurō gags from where he sat, already breaking open some chopsticks, “eww act all lovey-dovey somewhere else. this is family time— come eat!”

“sounds like an excellent idea, young one. we shall feast,” he responded boastfully, grasping your hand and leading you to a nearby table— a creaking in the wood sounded, meaning weight is being applied and bodies occupied the open space of this bench. unraveling the contents of this bento, you moved it closer to him. together you all ate to your hearts content, blessing every bite.

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: on the night of this single bachelorette’s parlor grand opening; an ex-lover returns with the pure intent of rekindling a old flame. especially, after he received her love letter.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of gang-affiliated past, tattoo artist!reader, love letters, sexual tension— smut includes: biting, marking, intense oral; female receiving. emotional atmosphere. lowercase, mature content— sexual activity.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞: the sixth storyline alternative; relatively ten years after the indefinite disbandment of toman. black-haired draken.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ken ‘draken’ ryuguji x reader.

as simple folk stumbled across the common room of this newly built tattoo parlor. everything seemed to be placed perfectly, even the cascading lights; igniting the area with such a shimmering warm toned sparkle. open tables were decorated with gorgeous artifacts and a generous collection of, nearly gone, refreshments. wanting this grand ceremony to be a hit, there was also a raffle for tattoos, on the house. everyone loved it and as the night withered further away, the crowd of people seemed to thin out; all leaving with joyful smiles.

dressed in a onyx black, a-line bodycon, gown and tatted beautifully. you— wave a hand goodbye, the soft glow of your glossy retinas following the outline of people until none were left. exhaling softly, those red-stained lips press into a subtlety sweet smile as you sunk down into a reclining chair. quickly removing those blister piercing heeled pumps. tonight had been a good night. one you wished you could’ve shared with a few childhood friends. everyone seemed to be living their own lives, focusing on a career or trying to evade prison. hell, one of the boys is several weeks away from marrying the only girl he has ever truly loved, quite literally. receiving that invitation through the mail almost made you cry both tears of joy and sorrow. if things had gone differently, maybe you’d be preparing for a wedding instead of sending pathetic love letters to ken ryuguji: an ex-boyfriend.

that pitiful tradition started after the disbandment of that notorious gang, toman. in which he was an active member of— this was back when they referred to him as draken. probably still do. anyway, you started dating freshman year of high-school; falling helplessly in love shortly after. in the beginning, he was extremely closed off, barely showing signs of feeling the same. but like waves washing away the footprints in the sand, he become an entirely different man after recognizing there would be no possible way of hiding behind a phlegmatic mask. thus reluctantly accepting his feelings for you.

unfortunately, the brief moments of happiness only lasted until graduation. then, he left you huddled underneath a pile of thick blankets, sobbing loudly with tissue boxes, ice-cream containers, and dirty clothes tossed around the bedroom. there wasn’t necessarily a real reason behind it, perhaps the love that kept you bound had faded away. beside, he didn’t need anyone holding him back in life, which is probably what you were doing. even though it hurt, you undoubtedly let him go. a few friends kept you posted, something about him finally leaving the thug life behind and opening a motor-shop. though you were proud of him, it doesn’t change that you now sit alone in this parlor wishing he would have at least sent a letter back.

a entry bell rang loudly, chiming in increments of two— the sound cut through the thoughts swirling in your mind as a sounding pair of footsteps clapped against the wooden padding of the floors rolling further into common room. then, a masculine voice speaks ever so calmly. it sounded oddly familiar; as if you were stuck in a feverish daydream, “you know— this tendency you’ve got of leavin’ doors unlocked at night, has to stop.”

inhaling softly, you looked over your shoulder preparing to be disappointed with the sight of nothing. coincidentally, the outcome had been entirely unforeseen. stunned, you stare into the dark hues of broad shouldered, tall male with predominate bulging biceps hidden beneath the cotton fabric of his jacket— which, mind you, has folded cuffs exposing his veiny forearms. his hands were placed comfortably in his pockets out of boredom. the scene cause your breath to get caught in the base of your throat because he is just as striking as he was years ago. there has always been something about his face that made him so appealing and that appeal has only matured. such smooth cream-colored skin, a fresh shave, tight lips, and a monotone gaze hidden behind two black bangs; with the rest being pulled into a pony. funnily enough, he used to be blonde. anyway, apart of you wanted to rush him, but after everything that occurred it wouldn’t be right.

“ken,” you muttered breathlessly, absolutely shocked by his appearance but not knowing how else to greet this ghost of the past. “is that really you?”

“in the flesh,” he answers your question, nodding curtly. while taking a quick look around before pausing near the front desk. those sharp orbs staring intently. a brightened gleam traveling through them before dimming once again. it got painfully silent after that. with you expecting this to be nothing less than a memory, it wasn’t. reality had unexpectedly kicked down the front door. and after three long years of hesitant pondering. “disappointed?”

“no— uh, not really,” is the response that induces a moment of eerie silence. with neither of you speaking a word to each other. instead, you took a second to examine him. observing his facial expressions, trying to read his mood. there is a trick to reading stoic individuals like him. examine their eyes, emotions swirl around like desert storms within them and it takes a special kind of person to be able to understand the complexity of those dark orbs. sometimes, he is so good at hiding his feelings that it becomes nearly untraceable. still, after years of practice you can tell that he is exhausted but determined. awkwardly, you spoke again. nervous to state the obvious but too curious not too. “so, what are you doing here? better yet, how did you get here?”

draken vaguely admires your figure from where he stands, gazing at the immense amount of showcased ink trailing across the majority of your once bare skin. if memory serves him right, the very first piece of art you’ve ever gotten was a trail of butterflies on the spine. he’ll never forget how strong of a grip you seemed to have when the pen grazed your back. these days, you’re more tatted than himself or anyone wandering in a gang. a crooked smile raises at the question you just asked, and he merely pointed outside, “drove down on my zephyr soon as we heard the news ‘bout you opening a tattoo parlor in the city over.”

“really? well— you’re two hours short of a party; the event ended ten minutes ago. literally,” you respond promptly, turning away from his gaze. wanting to end this night and leave.

leaning against the countertop, the male lulls his head to the side; eyeing you intensely. he responds seriously, the smile now replaced with a tone cooler than chilled ice, “that’s too bad— but, I didn’t come here for the party anyway.”

“okay so, what did you come here for?”

“to figure out why you decided to up and move without saying shit,” his tone of voice is indication enough that he is beyond irked by this abrupt decision. tongue prodding his inner cheek. fuck. he looked so damn good. raising one singular eyebrow, he started digging into the inner pocket of his jacket, searching for something. which he found rather quickly because those slender fingers pulled out three, relatively decent envelopes. spreading them on the desktop. releasing a sigh of exhaustion, the male clicks his teeth in annoyance, “and leavin’ these behind ain’t no proper goodbye in my opinion.”

staring dimly at the parchments, you place a manicured hand against the smooth paper; memories of writing flooding your mind, “did you find time to actually read them?”

“down to the last letter,” he confirms— eyes never once leaving your figure, strictly staring into the depth of your own. “what made you think you couldn’t have just come to me ‘bout all this shit?”

no. hell no. you refused to let him play that card. calmly, you walk around the desk and stand face to face with this man. personally, draken has never been someone you’ve feared; mainly because you know his heart. sure, his form towers over your own but none of that matters if you hold the power.

“well— you broke up with me, remember?” you respond to his statement in the calmest of tones; as if being soft-spoken isn't already a characteristic trait. anyway. that statement came out harsher than intended, but based on the reaction of your ex-lover, he didn't seem to mind the tone much. “and those letters were the only way for me to face you after dealing with all that pain.”

draken hated when these type of arguments happened— the one where you both are unusually calm but on the verge of breaking. he knew you could read him like a open book which is why he promptly stayed emotionally blank. is he angry, no. but is he getting irritated, yes. the entire situation is a mess within itself and he didn’t know how to fix it. leaning against the marble counter, he decides to finally just speak his truth, “m’sorry. never meant for any of this to happen, you know.”

“ken— opening up is hard, but please try to make sense out of what you’re saying,” at this point, your emotions seemed to break through. lips trembling in pain and eyes filled with much confusion and sorrow. honestly, he knew better than to underestimate the formula of those tears. the long he stood here, the more susceptible you’d become to releasing a waterfall. and if there is one thing he hated, it’s to see you cry. literally, fucks him up every trip. placing a hand upon those cute cheekbones, he rubs a thumb underneath curve of your eye to wipe them away. making no effort to move it away. he’d almost forgotten how smooth your skin had been. so pretty and delicate. a literal translation of his ideal soulmate. a gentle spirit who is a underlined badass. everything you are, he wanted. but, he pushes it away out of fear of repeating the past. attending the funeral of the woman he loves a second time, would destroy his mental.

“just wanted to keep you safe— ‘specially since i’d been running the streets for years,” he explains, exhaling softly, never once moving away from the warmth that is your body. “people will do anything to get to me; going as far as to exploit you. had to let you go until I figured out how to leave that shit alone.”

stunned by the confession, you leaned into the warmth of his hand. smooth melodies, that played through the speakers installed in the common area, shimmered against the eardrums of anyone who'd listen. all this time spend wondering what went wrong and it happened to be nothing on your end. just the lack of genuine communication. then, a statement he spoke earlier swirled through your mind. pondering on it, you decided to repeat it, “and why couldn’t you have just talk to me about this?”

“‘cause it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“actually,” you begin, absolutely shocked that he’d ask something like that. “it could’ve changed everything.”

drawing a large hand to the base of your neck, draken hums lightly before responding, “should��ve fought harder— ‘cause, since then, ain’t nothing felt realer than my feelings for you.”

those words gravitated clean through the soul, making your heart race. turning away from his gaze, you chew on the meat of your bottom lip. of all the things he has proclaimed, that would be the sweetest. today, he really opened his heart and that alone is something he has trouble doing. you couldn’t help but to appreciate it. his right-hand draws close to your neck as his gentle fingertips drag lightly against the open skin before touching the loose ends of hair. the intimacy almost startles you, considering that, at some point, you found yourself traveling down the curves that make his face, stopping at the base of his plump lips. and when he made the move to pull away, you grasp onto the chest of his shirt. there he pauses, body coming closer unintentionally before you're leaning in to capture a kiss. his lips are so soft, almost velvet against your own. he fully reciprocates— not allowing this moment of bliss to escape him. his scent of oak-wood and soap fills your nose, the combination bringing back memories. both of your bodies flush heatedly against the counter, lips parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside. only to pull away after reaching the limit for oxygen.

"did you really mean what you just said about me?” you mutter breathlessly, dazed by the intensity of that unexpected session- hands still never leaving the material of his jacket.

stunned by the question, the delinquent stares enamored by your gorgeously stunning mien; gleaming skin, nubile hair, pretty plump lips, and orbs all at the ready to do something primitive. the intensity of his gaze made you melt into that of a puddle, igniting a flustered reaction by having a hunger-like expression flash across his face. “yeah— wouldn’t do this shit for anyone else.”

admiring his honesty, you smile softly before acting on these waves of emotions. tugging on his jacket, you pull him down enough to peck the cushion of his cheeks. allowing your lips to gaze the skin before pressing them against his collar bone. using that impeccable strength, his hand rest on the waist before picking you up with ease and setting you upon the countertop. his biceps flex beneath your fingertips as he places kisses along your exposed shoulder. when that tall and lengthy figure slides between your legs, he can see the perk of your nipples poking through the silk. then, with his mouth, begins to attack the open skin of your neck. leaving behind markings of bruising purple. running a hand against your bare skin. hooking the tips of his fingers around the edge of your lace panties, he tugging on them before letting them go; lazily pushes you down. those lips, fuck— those lips begin to work wonders against the thickness of your thighs. inching slowly along the inside, pulling up the material of your winded dress. hearing a sigh of relief fall from your lips makes him pause. should he indulge in the meal that is so rightfully his? there hasn’t been any complaints thus far.

“lemme make it up to you, doll,” draken gruffly requests, hooking the tips of his fingers around the edge of your lace panties; pulling them down to proceed with his conquest. those onyx eyes gloss at the sight of your gloriously pulsating, extremely soaked button. dragging one leg on his shoulder, he sinks in— tongue teasing the folds before lapping against the clitoris like a man starved. they’re intense, slow, and passionate. he was handling this pussy with so much care that it pulled a breathless moan from your lips. pulling away for only a second to speak. “keep ‘em spread wide for me.”

“yes— fuck,” a breathless moan pulls from your lips. “ken.”

a vibrating moan escapes his lips when he felt the way you gripped his hair— devouring that dripping cunt to watch you fall apart and relishing in the way your delicate moans sounded the entire room. you tasted so delightful on his tongue. draken keeps his strong, colossal hands planted firmly upon your thighs; making sure to keep them spread. the thick layer of skin was so soft against his palms as he savored the taste of you in his mouth. “look at you lookin’ all pretty for me. missed this pussy s’much.”

“m’gonna cum,” you moan, accepting his words of praise. while allowing him to explore the slippery surface of the entrance with his middle and index finger. when he worked them inside, you dipped back heavily immersed in the legacy of sensation. gasping eagerly, just pleading for more pleasure. more of him.

“go for it,” he rasped quickly. and without a doubt, the man gives and gives until everything is falling apart and his chin soaked in a coating of liquid so divine. speechless, draken’s deep orbs stare up at you. running a few fingers against the crown on your head regardless of the hairstyle, you bask in a afterglow. incredibly happy to be in the presence of your love once again. the man really did love you, even if it is hard to show it. impressed by his handy work, he gave you a firm look from where he sat between them thighs. and that shit really hit home. licking his fingers, a deep chuckle falls before the next statement is heard.

“better lock that door, doll— you won’t be opening shop anytime soon.”

ᥫ᭡ — for more content click here. to join similia’s library click here.

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simillia · 2 years

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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘-𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: smoking a blunt after a stressful ass day at work & thigh fucking the gang-leader responsible for this habit.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of drug usage | marijuana, smut— thigh-fucking, biting, marking, orgasms?, slow and gentle atmosphere. lowercase. mature content— sexual activity.

ᥫ᭡ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: manjiro ‘mikey’ sano x reader.

manicured fingers rolled the backwood expertly, plumped and glossed lips were puckered in concentration as you sealed the blunt together with the pretty head of that pink tongue. exhausted from having the most fucked up day at work, you search the bedroom for some sort of lighter. instead of finding that, a equally tired mikey flips on the light switch— dark eyes swirling with subtle amusement when he found you sitting upon the edge of the queen-sized bed; dressed down in one of his older white t-shirts with your hair wrapped up, looking very delectable right now.

“startin’ with out me, pretty girl?” he questions, allowing keys to drop upon the side table before removing his black gang-affiliated coat. based on the small smile that rises upon those cheeks, he already knew what type of night this was going to be.

“you’re never home this early. so, yeah,” you responded, holding the blunt to your lips— inviting him to light the damned thing. which he did, drawing a small one from his pants pocket before bringing it up and letting the flame ignite it. inhaling softly, you released a cloud of smoke into the area. licking your bottom lip, staring into the usual dim eyes of your boyfriend. “well? you gonna come lay with me or what?”

mikey hums lightly, a yawn leaves his lips afterwards before he stretches those big biceps and walks to the bedside. his body collapsed against the comforter, leaning against the modern headboard— patting a hand against his thigh as a open invitation for you to come climb on-top. following his lead, you sluggishly sit upon his thighs; still smoking to take the pain away. his calloused hand gently wrapped around the base of your neck, watching those lips and bringing you down for a sensual kiss. inhaling the lingering smoke from your mouth. his lips are soft, almost silken against your own. in which, he fully begins by cupping the pudge of your cheeks and moving with a passion. his scent fills your nose with a hint of masculine cologne, the combination is soothing. during so, both bodies pressed together heatedly, lips parting slightly to allow your tongue to slip inside. only to pull away after reaching your limits.

the blunt is then taken away by mikey, who hits it three times smoothly. his other hand inching slowly along the inside of your thigh, pulling up the material of the t-shirt. hearing a sigh of relief fall from your lips makes him pause, “what’s got you so pent up, baby?”

“just workin’ with idiots,” you muttered softly into his neck, leaving trails of soft kisses against them. which he relished them, continuously running a hand against your bare skin. hooking the tips of his fingers around the hedge of your lace panties, tugging on them before letting them go. he lazily pushes you back and lifts your chin, wanting those pretty eyes to look into his— the look of pure irritation shimmered through those black orbs as he speaks.

“need me to come straighten ‘em out?”

“no— i’ll handle it,” you respond, moving to suck on his neck again. knowing him, you’ve got but one more time to complain about the same people before he walks in and traumatizes those poor employees. smiling softly, you shook your head in response to that question. loving how protective he can be over you. been this way since elementary school, dealing with neighborhood bullies. since then, he’s become very possessive and won’t tolerate anyone trying to harm you. doesn’t matter what timeline or lifestyle either of you choose to live. the outcome is forever the same. mikey accepts your answer, taking another swig. “just wanna forget about today— can you help me, please daddy?”

“m’tired baby,” he responds, knowing you wanted intimacy; a sigh leaves his lips because he knows he can never resist you. soon, the blunt finds it way back to you. pouting lightly, you whine his name smacking that joint twice. he love watching those pretty lips wrap around it like that. for some reason, every time you got high you started to get extremely needy. and on any other day, mikey would be thrilled to ruin that pussy but tonight is just not the night. and though he said this, he just knew it wouldn’t go that way. you’re quite the seductress when need be. “get on my thigh.”

and so you did— dragging your lace covered cunt against his taunt muscle. holding one hand against his shoulder and the other gripping the rolled, half-smoked wood. the friction caused you to gasp quietly, as mikey spread his hands further under the sides of that shirt; palming at the braless breast. his fingers worked over the perky nipples, leaning to press kisses and tantalizing nibbles upon your exposed neck. a vibrating moan escapes his lips, when he felt the way you gripped his hair— thigh devouring that dripping cunt with the intent of watching you fall apart.

“m— mikey,” you breathlessly mutter, getting lost in the feeling. his cock prodding at the content of his pants. “fuck me.”

“look at the mess you’re making,” he mutters, refusing to move away from your folds. admiring the way your face twisted in pleasure. see, he knew how to please you because he took the time to study. “fuck— you want me that bad, angel?”

“yes,” you sighed. “please, baby.”

abiding by your rules only, he accepts the responsibility of ultimately satisfying your high ass. he slipped the panties up further aside, as you allowed him to explore the slippery surface of your entrance with his middle and index finger. when he worked them inside, you dipped back heavily immersed in the sensation. the ash from the dimly lit blunt falling against the sheets. in which he gruffly mumbles, “put that out so i can fuck you.”

and so you did.

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