yapdad

[yapdad]

Okay who are you?? No way I have no seen ur writing before it’s literally so good I’m glad I followed u on time after reading the kento as a dad fic cuz I had to leave. But yesss I love ur writing and I can’t wait to read more! (No pressure)😗😍

LMAO i have about a million different blogs i’ve work the face of so if my writing seems familiar that’s because it probably is 🙂‍↕️ you are a sweetheart though i can’t wait to write more here <3

[yapdad]

sometimes gojo is actually just all talk.

sometimes, he'll spend the entire day teasing you about how mean he's going to be in bed that night. he has you drink a ton to stay hydrated, smothers you in affections to establish just how much he loves you, all because he has every intention of fucking you that night like he hates your guts.

he'll wash his eyes over your skin, take in the lack of bite marks and bruises, and lets his imagination run wild at how many different way he's going to wreck you come evening. maybe he'll tie you up, press a vibrator to your clit and fuck you through orgasm after orgasm until you're a crying, begging mess. or maybe he'll deny your orgasm altogether... edge you within an inch of your sanity just to ruin your sweet release. maybe he'll be really mean and make you watch him jerk himself off: no touching, or feeling, or cumming alongside him unless you're real sweet and wanna clean his cock up after.

and, in his defence, sometimes he does go through with these plans. he can be mean and cocky and a sadist at times and you do love him for it.

but sometimes, after building up for a long night of pain and pleasure, satoru gojo will get his pretty lover in bed just to change his mind. with every intention of fucking some tears out of you, he'll press his lips to yours and melt all too easily.

and before you know it, he's abandoning the ropes and restraints to instead hold your hand over his heart as he rocks his cock ever so slowly inside of you. eyes glazed over and the sweetest of praise dripping from his lips to your ears.

"i love you, you're so pretty, you feel so good. can't believe you're mine, baby, what'd i do to deserve you?"

and you, always swooned by satoru's sudden softness, let him pepper kisses all over your face as he makes love to you slow and deep. and you wipe his eyes when tears start to fall, because your man can sometimes be a sensitive one, who needs to lose himself in you before he can get back to the kinky shit.

not that you don't tease him for it. "thought you were gonna fuck me dumb?"

"can't. can't can't can't. i think i want to become a part of you, you know? so that we're always like this and i'm never apart from you. sound good?"

"sounds perfect."

[yapdad]

hey so i’m hard as a rock and it’s your fault

i knew i should have dedicated my life to geology god fucking dammit

[yapdad]

the only drawback to making kento a father is the lack of 'alone time' you now get.

he was made to be a dad, there’s no doubt about it. he’s the perfect contender, stern but patient and understanding and so infatuated with fatherhood that you almost don’t mind the nightly interruptions.

almost. the sound of little padding footsteps leading up to your closed bedroom door gives you a trauma response now. how your husband can hold himself above you, inches away from dipping inside your sweet center, and still remain kind-eyed and cheery when your daughter starts banging on the shut door to be let in is beyond you.

he's a good man. you hate him for it.

maybe you just need sex. you've been deprived of your husband's body for so long that you're going stir crazy, in a sense. he did marry you with a vow of servitude, after all.

thank god for takuma and his wide eyes. he looks like a deer in headlights as he stands at your front door, a huge bag of toys and snacks and just-in-case diapers in one hand and your daughters tiny hand wrapped around two fingers of his other hand. she beams up at uncle ino, ready to spend a night away from home (and get unreasonably spoilt in the process).

"no snacks after her teeth are brushed. and she's developed a penchant for climbing—don't let her do that. and if she comes home with even a mark, ino, i will be breaking each and every last one of your bones, starting with the toes and moving upwards until i reach your—"

"i think he gets the point, love," you place a gentle hand on your husbands tense bicep. "please stop threatening to snap takuma's bones."

ino, who is probably going over his last will and testament in his head, forces a grin. "loud and clear, she's safe with me."

"mhm," your husband can only eye him for so long before your daughter is tugging uncle ino away and leaving the two of you in the foyer.

finally alone. just you, your husband, and his teething paranoia. he's darting to the front window and peeking through it like a yappy dog would as their owner leaves. it’s cute. you feel bad for the future-teenage version of your daughter, who will have to deal with a man like kento nanami as her father. but now she’s just a baby and in the safe (albeit shaky) care of uncle ino, and you are vying for an orgasm or six.

“ken, honey."

his eyes are stuck outside.

"kento."

still stuck. you never thought the other woman would be sporting butterfly clips and drool as a statement piece.

"oh my fucking god kento nanami if you do not fuck me right now i will take that little sword of yours and stick it so far up your— oh hi."

he's standing in front of you before you know it, with your face held firmly in his hands and an awfully stern look on his face.

"my love," he drags his thumb from your cheek, down to your bottom lip. "first of all, i have every intention of ravaging you until you're so full of me that you don't have the mind to beg for more. and second, it's more of a cleaver than a sword."

"okay nerd," you pull your man into a deep kiss, one much more intimate than you've been allowing yourself of late. kento takes the lead easily, slipping his tongue past your lips in a way he'd never dare to do over the breakfast table.

before you can register your movements, the two of you are stumbling like drunk teens up to your bedroom, a garment of clothing lost with each step to the door. you loosen your husbands tie and drop it to the ground, and he manages to unclasp your bra just as his back hits the bed and you're falling on top of him in a mess of gross kisses and shared laughter.

it's sweet, until kento tires of the homely teasing and flips you over to press his heavy body (and even heavier cock, it seems) against yourself. your legs part naturally, as they will ever do for the man you love, and kento trails kiss after kiss from your neck all the way down to the dripping mess of your cunt.

when he latches his lips to your clit you gasp and shoot your hand down to his hair. he loves it being pulled, admitted to you after a drink too many that he finds in degrading in a way that is only pleasurable coming from you: he's sensitive to that sort of stuff, so you tug lightly at his blond locks until your fingers snag against something hard.

"what's in your hair?" you manage between moans as ken savours his most favourite meal.

he pulls away for a second, resting his cheek against your parted (and already shaky) thigh as you comb through his hair with your fingers once more and pullout not one, but two hot pink butterfly clips that you were looking for only this morning.

"oh," your husband smiles when he sees them. "i got a princess makeover last night. i stopped her before she could go looking for makeup but she did manage to find those."

"they suit you," you smile, and clip them back into his hair. it look silly, but it keeps his hair from sticking to his forehead in the heat of things, so you look past the glitter. "you're a good dad, you know?"

kento presses a kiss to your clit, which has your breath hitch in your throat, before rising up to climb over you once again. his cock is heavy and pulsing with heat as it rests against you, but ken denies himself for a moment in favour of pressing a very sweet kiss to your lips. you can taste yourself on his smile.

"thank you for making me a dad," he kisses your cheek next, and then your forehead. "and thank you for everything else you have given me in our marriage."

"all those orgasms..." you muse, which earns you a small laugh from your lover.

"oh indeed," he reaches down and lines himself up with you. "you always know just how to set the mood. very sentimental, you are."

"it's what you married me for," you lift your hips a little to help your husband in. "isn't it? you just love the way i—oh god, ken."

he pushes into you niiice and slow, feeling the way you stretch around him. it's been a while, so the usual ache of accommodating his unfair size is more of a burn this time through, but kento's lips against your neck are a nice distraction. he's slow and sweet and so in love with you that you can feel it in the way he fills you up. or maybe you're just delusional from the dick.

"love the way you feel," he finishes your sentence. drawing his hips back only a little to get you used to his movements, he presses his next kiss to your shoulder. "love the way you look."

"you don't need to flatter me. you're already inside of me."

kento bites the skin of your shoulder and picks up the pace to really start fucking you. "love the way you can take a compliment without being a smartass about it."

"god, kento," you can only manage a few words before he's adjusting his thrusts to brush against your g spot with each movement in and out. "it's so much."

"i love how well you take me," he goes on. "i love your heart. and i love your body. and i love your idiotic jokes. and i love how you smell."

"ken..."

"and i love—" kento runs a hand down your left arm to take your hand in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips before pressing a long kiss to your wedding band "—how i'm all yours."

not his, yours. he's made it very clear since your first date (which was more of a study-situation than anything, that he is all yours. your property. your lover. your shoulder to cry on and your life partner and the man who would burn down cities for you and your kid.

and the only man who could fill you this deep and still be romantic about it. he fucks you like that until your legs are locked around his waist and you're begging him to fill you up with his load.

and of course he obliges, because anything you ask for he will give you enthusiastically. he rubs your clit until you're blanking on your own name and cumming in beautiful synchronisation with him. kento spills deep inside of you with a breathy groan and even then still manages to fuck you through your orgasm until he's softening inside of you and you're trying ultra hard not to cry from the overwhelming love (and pleasure) you're feeling.

and as he holds himself over you, smiling down at you like he didn't just possibly breed you out again, all you can do is look up at him with teary eyes and laugh at the ridiculous pink butterfly clips on his head.

"you're so pretty," you giggle, reaching up between your sweaty bodies to tap on the clips. "my manly husband."

"god," he groans, dropping his head down to your chest. you laugh some more, now with an even better view of his accessories, until he steals your laughter altogether with a sharp bite to your nipple.

"ow, fuck! that is not how a princess behaves."

"you are going to be the death of me."