#I tried to focus on his big naturals more but...you know... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecoochiefairy · 1 month ago

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sucky sucky. satoru.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 10K words. blackpregnantfem!character, satoru gojo, pharmacists!satoru, sub!satoru, dom!satoru, nasty sex, shower/tub sex, sweet sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, face sitting, condomless sex, size kink, daddy kink, creampie, squirting, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this for that one anon who wanted satoru, cause i wanted him too. love you pookie. hehe.

showering w/ satoru. ride me, baby. sitting on his face.

DAWN WAS YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF THE DAY. The sun hadn’t risen just yet, the sounds of your box fan humming through your pitch black bedroom always brought you comfort, and it was almost as if the entire world was still asleep. Your feet sunk into your bunny slippers, your soft steps pad along the white marble floor of the condo you resided in with your husband—who was currently sound asleep, able to knock out in a natural disaster as you crept out of bed.

You decided to not turn on any lights as you came down the hallway, letting the dim screen of your phone guide you as you went towards his office close to the living room. Your hand lightly planted along the swell of your belly, taking deep breaths as you tried to focus on making it to his baby blue IMAC, needing to do more research. You were desperate at this point.

You were nine months pregnant, the full term having been a wonderful experience as you waited for your bun to come out of the oven—the only issue was, you were almost a week after your due date, and you were now miserable. Your entire body felt heavy as your baby sat directly on your bladder, causing you to have shortness of breath at times, making you waddle essentially all the time. Regardless, you had the support you needed. Even if you were an emotional wreck.

You keep the door cracked as you push the light switch halfway up, allowing the room to be dim as you make your way over to the desktop, clicking your french tipped fingers along the mouse to ignite the screen. Your heart shaped Cartier wedding ring glimmers along your finger—it always reminds you of the price, how you cried for Satoru to return it for something cheaper, and he felt that you deserved nothing but the best.

You didn’t mean to wake him up, but you did anyway. You sigh lightly as you can hear his heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, his tall and broad frame unable to sneak around even if he tried.

“Baby, please come to bed.”

You turn your head, pulling back the flyaway of your curls as they’re hidden under your baby pink bonnet to protect your hair. Your edges swirl to perfection along your forehead, glasses tipping at your nose.

You softly ask, “Did I wake you up?”

“I woke up when you left. Your absence was too loud."

He rubs his eye with his big fists, his body leaning up against the door frame. His voice was low and husky with sleep. His hair is white as snow, his bangs covering his eyes as he rubs at his face, shirtless as his basketball shorts fall right below his defined and veiny V-line. The minimal tattoos along his body and arms are visible with the light from the computer, but considering how small they were you’d almost miss them.

You turn yourself towards him as you apologize, “I know you have work in a couple of hours. You should go back to sleep.”

"It is four in the morning, baby. I’m good. C’mere.”

He stretches his arms out, his veins popping along each one as he motions for you to come over to him. You knew he had work tomorrow, but the way he said it made it feel like you were crazy for even staying up this early. Your eyes glance at his biceps as he stretches, his toned body and defined abs on full display.

“I’m just doing some research. Google says raspberry leaf tea can sometimes induce labor, I might need to grab some tomorrow,” you hum more to yourself, your eyes flickering up as he walks towards you, seeing the amusement within his icy eyes.

"I might just have to block that Google shit entirely, you find more things to research and it sends you into a complete spiral.“

You sigh, turning to him as you chew on your lip, wanting to hold back your pout.

“Baby…” you sigh, almost in an exhausted manner, hearing as that makes him chuckle at your disappointment of his words.

"Don’t make that face at me. You know I’m right.”

He knows you're trying to help the process, and you're tired of sleeping on your side, being swollen and achy. He leans down as he presses a kiss onto your jaw. Your hormones are all out of whack as you even try not to get emotional at his words, knowing he meant no harm.

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” you lightly defend, hating when he was dismissive. You then click off safari along the computer as you attempt to stand, pressing your hand along the desk as you groan lightly—you just wanted to stand without struggling.

"Hey, let me help you, baby.”

He stands behind you, placing his hand on your lower back to steady your stance, but hesitates as you push his hand away.

“I can do it myself, Satoru…”

Fucking hell, there it was. The tears forming in your vision. You didn’t know why you were about to cry. You wipe your eyes as you hold your belly, taking a deep breath as you sniffle, “I’m not helpless.”

"I know you’re not, pretty girl. Let me just help you, okay? You can walk yourself back to bed.”

You were always prideful and resilient, but right now—you were a hot mess, the pregnancy hormones making you teary eyed often these days.

He knew how to handle you. It just depended on your emotions, and he was there to respond in any way he needed to. Like now, it was best not to make you become defensive—because you were—instead giving you an ultimatum, to make you still feel in control of yourself. You lean your hand along his stomach as you use your other hand to wipe your eyes, “Baby girl’s sitting on my bladder again.”

He places a hand along your belly, his palm firm as it sits atop of your own.

"Do you need to pee, baby? You’re always feeling like that.”

His voice was so tender as he spoke, he knew you were sensitive right now, so he had to be gentle with you.

You shake your head, “Just wanna lay down.”

He nods, understanding as he makes sure your legs are sturdy before he helps you walk down the hallway, taking your hand to let him guide you. His big palm practically engulfs yours, but the warmth of his hand instantly gives you some comfort as you take slow and wobbly steps towards your bedroom.

You successfully make it towards the soft white comforter set, golden swan headboard curving under the lights of the room as you sit yourself on your side of the mattress. You squeeze his hand a little tighter as you then say, “I wasn’t crying.”

He lets a low chuckle escape from his lips as he stands in front of you. Taking your face in between his hands that makes you look up at him, his soft thumbs graze along your skin, wiping away your tears.

"Oh, you weren’t? An intruder cutting onions in my house?”

His lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on his skin. It was your favorite fragrance, a mixture of sandalwood and musk.

You release a soft sigh, gently pushing his hands down as you say, “You’re unserious as hell,” rolling your eyes. You then ask, “Are you sure your employees will be okay if you have to leave work tomorrow?”

You had a doctor's appointment to determine whether or not they could just pop your water bag, or give it a couple of days to let the baby come herself. Your husband was a Pharmacists CEO—which seemed fairly easy within the name—but it was so much more into his job, keeping him at work for hours at a constant.

"They’ll be good, baby. I think you forget that I have a team working for me, I don’t hire any dumbass staff. If anything they’re excited to play on the clock while I’m not around.”

You absentmindedly lock your fingers around the pendant of your necklace, nodding as your other hand rubs along his flexing forearm.

You then remind him, “You need to sleep, Satoru. Otherwise you’ll be the dumbass on your team, walking around like a zombie on the clock.”

"I’ve been dealing with sleepless nights for almost a year now because of someone,” He leans down, “Gimme’ your mouth. I’m missing you like hell.”

Your eyes scan across the dangerous glint of his, always a mischief somewhere in them. Your lash extensions flutter as you say, “Kay,” almost a little too girlishly, raising your mouth up to his.

He could be a completely different person when things became a little feisty between you two, feeling his mouth wrap around your lips, hungrily sucking your tongue inside to reel you closer. It makes your cheeks warm.

It felt like years since he held your mouth to his own, the taste of you making him grunt as he took his time with it. He knew he’d have to be cautious to not get carried away, you were heavily pregnant, and the last thing he wanted to do is hurt you.

He sucks on your bottom lip as his hand moves down to your ass, squeezing and massaging his fingers into the plush skin under his hand.

The feeling makes your breath lightly hitch through your nose, and a throb comes between your legs. You pull your mouth back, pressing your forehead against his as you softly say, “I’m tired, ’toru,” using that as an excuse as you felt yourself becoming incredibly horny, not wanting to continue further than that.

He knew your signs of exhaustion when they came, so he wasn't surprised when you pulled back from his lips, but a part of him didn't want to stop. The sight of your pouty expression makes him release a low groan. Your swollen face, your long eyelashes, your pretty lips. The pregnancy absolutely made you sexier.

He reluctantly pulls away from your face, "C’mon, imma’ try to get some rest before I’m cussing out my employees for no reason.”

Somewhere in you feels bad. You know he’s been holding back for months, considering your libido has been incredibly low since you became pregnant. But for whatever reason with you close to giving birth, your lower body was on fire, needing him in ways you couldn’t imagine yourself acting. It was egregious. Maybe you should’ve googled something on that.

When the next day came, you were being dropped off by the chauffeur at your doctor's office. The walls inside were pink, your smile soft as you greeted silently at other pregnant women. You sat in the waiting room as your hands were along your belly, watching the smaller children play with the toys provided by the office, imagining yourself to have a playful baby of your own. It’d already been Satoru’s third time calling you today, making sure you arrived safely to your appointment while he was at work. And he said you were worrisome.

When it was your turn to be called back, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. You were so close to the due date, and still, the baby hasn’t shown an indication of coming out the oven.

You were greeted by your OB, a middle-aged woman who was friendly enough, but you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. After getting your weight checked, you sat on the examination bed as she began looking over your swollen belly.

“How are you feeling?” she questions, cream colored skin being complimented by her red lipstick, onyx hair clipped perfectly into a bob.

“I’m okay,” you say softly, giving a smile to her, “I’m just feeling a little heavy. It’s been a bit of a struggle to walk at times, she won’t get off of my bladder,” you give a light laugh, “I just wanted to see if I was okay to get induced today? I’m just—I feel ready, doctor.”

The doctor nods as she looks over your information sheet on her clipboard, listening to you as you spoke with her. After a short pause, she answers, “Well, you’re full term, your water could break at any moment. However, I suggest waiting a few more days before we try the induction process, your body will go naturally when it’s ready.”

She moves the stethoscope along your belly, listening to your baby’s heart rate. But not what you wanted to hear. It makes you sigh, “May I ask why there would be a difference between induction, and if the baby came on her own tonight?”

“The induction process can be a little more painful for you, honey. The contractions are more intense as we try to force your body to go into labor,” she moves away as she takes off her stethoscope, placing it back onto her neck as she pauses, “I would try some natural techniques that can induce labor, but, there’s no guarantee.“

“That makes sense,” you nod more to yourself, “I was up doing some research last night. Didn’t find much considering my husband ordered me back to bed. Are there any at home suggestions you’d give me as far as going into labor?”

The doctor gives a chuckle as she writes something on her clipboard, “I see. Your husband is a smart man, he knows what’s best for you right now. How about you try walking more? It helps bring the baby lower into the birth canal, maybe that will help your body’s natural contractions begin?” She looks back at you, “Sex is also a very healthy way of triggering a natural induction. A lot of my momma’s have some quite interesting stories,” she pats your leg lightly, same sweet smile against her face.

You’re a grown woman, but an older woman suggesting sex with your husband is something that makes your throat go dry. It even makes you blush a bit. You blink, pulling down the baby tee you wear that desperately wants to release your breast from the confinement of the material, your nipples extremely sensitive.

“Uh…sex can trigger my labor?” You repeat.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. It can help release oxytocin and prostaglandins, which can stimulate your body’s natural contractions. I’m sure your husband will be very happy to hear that,” she gives you a little smirk before adding, “It's a very effective way to start labor, a nice release for both momma and poppa.”

“Is it safe, even with my baby girl being so close to my cervix?” You have a thousand questions—definitely should've been a little quieter as you snuck into the office last night. Maybe you would’ve known this by now.

The doctor laughs, seemingly surprised by your question, but answers it anyway, “It’s absolutely okay. Baby girl won’t be harmed. A lot of my patients have sex throughout their pregnancies, it’s completely normal,” she moves back and takes her seat on her office chair, “Just be careful, but don’t be too careful. It might just do the job for you.”

At that moment, your head turns as a knock comes to the door. When it opens, it reveals Satoru—who’s not dressed within his lab coat and button up. He wears a black long sleeve, matching sweatpants accompanied with his blue New Balance 9060 sneakers, shades on his eyes as his vision strained from the sun at times. His top is practically suffocating his large frame, it’s like he has to crouch down to make everyone else comfortable. You see he holds your pale pink Nike duffle, your birth bag slung over his shoulder in preparation for anything. It almost makes you giggle.

“You’re here,” you say, a warm smile coming to your face, not expecting him to be since you didn’t call him to come.

He loved this. He loved how you were absolutely radiating right now, all round and pretty, carrying his baby. He moves closer, bending over as he presses a kiss to the top of your head before greeting, “Hey, my pretty baby. I had a free hour in a half so I thought I’d come check up on my girl. She’ good?” he questions the doctor.

The doctor nods, placing her clipboard back into its holder, “Everything looks great. Your wife is full term and healthy, and your baby girl is ready to meet you both,” she gives a kind smile before giving a quick wave, “I’m going to have the nurse bring some pamphlets, it’s got some more information in there, just to help out. Do you have any other questions?”

You shake your head, “You’ve been amazing this entire journey, doctor. I just wanna say thank you—you’ll be one of the first people I come visit with my little muffin.”

You don’t know why you’re about to cry, but it’s a radiance of happiness you feel as you rub your eyes, so glad to have a good physician in this situation. You ignore Satoru’s, “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” rubbing your back immediately as he sees your vision glossing over.

The doctor gives a light laugh, clearly used to this type of behavior from her patients. “No problem, honey,” patting your knee once again, “How about you let papa take you out for a nice big lunch, hm? I have another patient coming in, I’ll see you soon. Congratulations.”

She leaves you both within the room, your fingers padding your eyes lightly, giggling at yourself as you greet him, “Hi, how’s work been so far?”

He’s still rubbing soothing circles along your back, finding it cute the way you were being overly emotional right now.

His lips press to your temple, “Busy as hell. You’ hungry?”

You nod your head, taking his hand as you step off of the table as you hold your belly, a light gasp coming to your mouth as you begin waddling towards the door, thankfully not seeing the way Satoru holds back his laugh as you ramble on, “Baby! I saw this cute little restaurant not too far away when the chauffeur dropped me off, it had chicken tenders, Mexican food, burgers, all kinda stuff!…”

It’s not like your legs just stopped working, but he knows the added weight was probably hard to get used to. He chuckles as you speak, following after you as he opens the door for you both, letting you walk out first as he says, “That’s perfect, baby.”

It was in fact cuter on the inside. Small circular tables, thinly designed chairs, brown architecture and green plants hanging all around the ceiling as calming music played throughout the building. The bustle of people walking past brought a sense of comfort to you, your eyes trailing to the roses that sat decoratively along the table.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” You blink, giving a polite smile to the waiter that places tall glasses of lemon water along the table, giving you time to glance over the menu.

He could honestly care less about a restaurant’s interior. If they had the best burgers in the world, he was there, but the way you were glazed over at the interior, made the whole situation a little sweeter.

He reaches across to hold your hand, giving a light squeeze to your fingers as he answers, “It’s pretty as fuck, baby, just like you.”

“Don’t be tryna distract me, boy. Why’d you leave work? I never called you,” you remind him, “Pregnancy doesn’t make me all ditzy and shit.”

He knew that question was coming, even if you were happy that he showed up.

He shrugs, his thumb stroking your skin, “I was worried. You’ seen my big ass carrying that labor bag, I wanted to be there in case they induced you. Is that a crime?” he questions, “Plus, I needed a break from my annoying ass employees.”

“Oh, now they’re your annoying ass employees. You spoke so highly of them last night, what’d they do today to piss you off, Mr. Pharmacist?” You tease, accepting the fries they placed down in front of you that you ordered, taking one in your mouth, your stomach grumbling at the salty potatoes entering your system.

He reaches over to steal a fry—ignoring the way your hand smacks his—“One of them spilled a whole bottle of medication that’s hard as fuck to get again. Another one put some wrong information on a medical document. My third worker was late, and had no explanation why. So yeah, call me pissy. Don’t care.”

“Stuff happens, Satoru. Now imagine if your workers were irrational about you just ducking off the clock because you wanna have lunch with me? That isn’t fair to them,” you point out.

He pauses, listening to you as he gives a nod, chewing through the fry he had in his mouth. Satoru knew you had a point, and he respected the way you always made him realize those points. So he simply replies with, “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, baby.”

“I know I am,” you agree. You give an excited clap as they place down your nachos, craving Mexican food like no other. They also give Satoru his gourmet burger and fries, the man refusing to eat anything else at times. He was the pickiest person on the planet.

You shake your head, “You and your beef. You’d be perfect as a pregnant woman, with excessive amounts of protein.”

“Shitt, to be able to take off work, wear whatever I want and crash out on somebody if they comment on my eating habits? Somebody call the government and start making pills to get men pregnant. Quickly.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, I don’t think you’d enjoy the luxury of having the doctor tell you they don’t want to force your induction, and you have to wait several more days to see if you’ll naturally go into labor.”

He leans back into his seat, placing his arms over his chest as he stares at you, “Damn, maybe you’re right. Being a woman is stressful—no offense.” He pauses, his own eyes glancing at the way you looked a little disappointed from the doctor’s words, not getting what you wanted. He leans forward, his hand reaching over the table to take one of yours, “Hey. She knows what she’s talking about. Baby girl will come when she’s ready. You’ll be a great momma, y’know that right?”

“Maybe she’s hiding in there cause she thinks imma’ be a bad momma,” you sigh, kneeling yourself on your elbow against the table, “You’ think babies can feel anxiety?”

He listens to you express your concerns, his jaw clenching. He knew you were nervous. You were carrying the product of you and him for months, you wanted everything to go perfectly. Satoru wanted that for you. But he also wanted you to stop being so hard on yourself, so he says, “Nah, baby, I don’t think she can feel your anxiety. She’s probably too busy listening to how amazing her momma’s heartbeat is, probably a lullaby to her.”

You exhale lightly, feeling a bit better at his words. On the other hand, you find yourself…gazing at your husband. His dark shades along his strident face, alabaster hair and muscular frame wanting to explode through his top. He made the table almost look small, and your mind flashes to memories of you…creating your bundle of joy, an entirely different Satoru in those times. You pull your fingers away as you put another nacho into your mouth, giving a weak smile, feeling the blush on your cheeks as you say, “You’re so sweet.”

He catches the way you stare at him. Your feline eyes blink slowly, your dark curls filling the roundness of your flushed cheeks.

He leans a little closer, his tone lowering as he says, “I’m sweet, huh?”

You didn’t have to wonder whether or not Satoru looked at you in the way you were currently staring, because it was a constant gaze in those arctic pupils. There was a time he’d fuck you anywhere. You could always feel his eyes on you, especially today as you wore an all white baby tee and yoga pants set, brown sandals complimenting your pedicure, the gold along the strap of your sandals matching the dermals on your lower back. The set clung itself to your frame, never ashamed of your body even within the pregnancy. Your child bearing hips, full ass, nipples protruding through your top. You were stunning.

You always feigned an innocence, giggly like a schoolgirl when he flirted as if he weren’t your husband. Your eyes glance up to him, “You’ wanna know what the doctor said?”

His eyes were practically glued to every part of you. He took notice of the pedicure with the little white flowers against your feet, the way your shirt hugged your frame perfectly, and how he could see your pretty brown skin through the white fabric. His grin meets your face, ignoring the way you tilt his chin up to keep his eyes on yours, “Tell me.”

“She suggested that sex might be a way of inducing my labor,” you rub your fingers along his ear, a habit of yours when you talked to him in close radius.

The way that those words slipped from your mouth, the tone of your voice, it had his mind in overdrive.

He feels your fingers against his earlobe, and he almost loses himself at the touch, his jaw clenching, “How you’ feel about that?”

“Like I need to go home and confirm that on some physicians website. I mean, that sounds terrifying! What if you bump my baby girl's head? Is that too impossible to think about?” You scrunch up your nose.

He holds back his laugh as you seem so concerned about hurting the baby that way. He knows it’s an irrational fear, but it’s adorable nonetheless, his hand coming up to rub your cheek as he says, “Baby, you do realize she’s protected in your womb, right?”

You sigh lightly, “Mhm. I just wish she’d sit up more, she makes me feel like I have to pee every millisecond. Like now. And you need to get back to work,” you remind him.

He glances at his Chopard watch, knowing he had to leave. He loved spending time with you, but he did need to get back to work. He felt awful, but that’s what it was like owning a massive corporation— you didn’t always have a life outside work.

“I’ll probably be back a little late. You’ gonna miss me?”

You roll your eyes, accepting the pecks he presses along your mouth as you say in between them, “I always miss you, Daddy,” giggling as he raises an eyebrow at the nickname.

He could feel himself losing restraint. You stand as you wrap your arms along his neck, Satoru lowering himself so you don't have to stand on your toes. He grunts as he smacks your ass, pressing a kiss to your jaw, not wanting to pull away. But he had to. So instead he gives a sigh, watching the chauffeur pull up to drop you off at home as he waved, “Later, baby.”

The rest of the day was mostly you laying in bed, rewatching American Horror Story and also pushing yourself to read another chapter of a book you’d been interested in. You also pushed yourself to do your usual routines of being a housewife, feeding your large black husky that didn’t do much besides holler and follow you around, or even tend to your garden outside.

You thought about the doctor's words, and although you were a bit fearful of them, maybe a relaxing night between you and your husband wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe it wasn’t about your concerns for the baby, maybe you were just nervous of having intimate time with him, considering it’d been a month without it. So, you had a plan.

You waited until you heard your husky barking loudly at the door as it unlocked, meaning Satoru was home. You could hear his deep voice chastising the dog for her noises, dropping his keys along the counter like he always did. You lightly pad your feet along the cold floor, clutching the fluffy pink towel wrapped around your bare body as you peek around the corner at him.

He had dealt with so much work bullshit, and all he wanted was to take a hot shower and lay with you in bed. But the sight of you, dark curls pulled out of your face, natural freckles sprucing against your nose and cheeks, the pink contrasting with your brown skin, he was glaring at you.

“Was work that bad?” You poke fun, holding the towel at the top to keep it from falling.

He shakes his head, his eyes still glued to you. You looked so sexy, and he hadn’t touched you in weeks. He wanted you. He craved you. His eyes trail down your frame, taking notice of the curves along your legs, and he gives a grunt.

With a few quick strides, he’s standing in front of you, his large hands taking hold of your face as he answers, “Work was hellish, baby.”

“Mmm, I’m sorry,” you say, pressing a kiss against his palm, “Wanna come shower with me? I’ll scrub your back like you love.”

He exhales, almost sounding like a sigh of relief. A shower after his stressful ass day, and his wife? He didn’t argue the offer. The way you stood in front of him, your hands clutching the fluffy material against the curves of your body, it made his fingers itch. He needed you. He needed to touch you.

“Yeah? You’ being all nice to me and shit, but I’m not complaining.”

You take his hand as you pull him down the hall, making your way towards the double doors of the bathroom. Satoru notices a pop of red along the floor, focusing his eyes in as he then realizes it’s a rose petal. When the door fully opens, candles sit all around the mesmerizing black clawfoot tub with golden feet, already filled with water that looks surprisingly warm. Not just red rose petals—but pink ones, lilies, sunflowers, colorful flowers overall floating atop of the water, swimming prettily.

You turn towards him, beginning to remove his watch as your warm face comes down, “I just thought maybe a relaxing night between us would be nice. You’ um…You’ like it? I used a lot of flowers from my garden so…I hope you do,” you nervously smile, pulling your hair behind your ear.

His eyes scanned the room. He could smell the sweet aroma of flowers, and the way the room was dimmed had his shoulders relaxing almost immediately. His eyes trailed the petals on the floor, realizing just how much effort you put into this.

“Baby, you shouldn’t have gone to this trouble. I should be doing shit like this for you.”

“It’s okay, I know you would have if you weren’t at work,” you place your palm against his cheek, “It wasn’t so bad, Storm helped me carry most of the stuff I needed anyways,” you refer to the dog, “She slobbered on the stems, but I cut them anyway.”

He chuckles at the way you talk, knowing your dog was like your first child . He reaches over and pinches your cheek, “You and that husky of ours have a whole ass bond. But I appreciate this, baby, really. Is the water still warm? Need me to refill it for you?”

You shake your head, “Just need you to follow me in.”

You raise on your toes, giving him a soft, tender kiss. As you come back down, you turn away, removing the towel from around you as you stride over to the tub, arching your bare body as you make your way in.

You sink beneath the water as you ask, “You’ coming?”

He was practically mesmerized as you made your way to the tub. The way the candles illuminated along your skin, the water moving as you slid in, he was almost at a loss of words. But he couldn’t just stand there like an idiot.

He smacks his lips, “You think I’m not?” making you giggle at the way he yanks his tie off, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Your eyes watch as his clothes drop to the floor, scanning the curve of his abs, how perfectly sculpted he was. Veins ran through his arms and fingers, flexing up and all the way down to his v-line that harshly dipped into the monster that sat between his legs. It made your eyes pull away a bit, seeing as he was already coming into the tub with you.

He knew he had your attention. The way you stared as he undressed, the way he caught your eyes taking notice of his body, he was confident. A little cocky, per usual. Especially when you looked away, almost as if you couldn’t look at him. He slips into the water across from you, his hands immediately taking hold of your hips as he pulls you onto his lap.

“Is it warm enough?” You question, wrapping your arms along his neck, adjusting yourself on top of him.

As you straddle him, his hands move along your thighs, holding onto you tightly. He’s already nodding as he answers, “Feels good, baby.”

He brings you closer, burying his face in between your neck and collarbone, inhaling your scent deeply. He loved how you smelled. He loved everything about you. You take the pink sponge you had within the water, your other fingers gripping the nape of his hair along the back of his neck as you tilt his head, dipping the sponge deeper before squeezing it above him. You watch as his light hair darkens, pulling back out of his face to reveal him fully.

“It’s getting close to that time of renewing our vows,” you remind softly.

Your touch felt good. He enjoyed it. The way you took care of him, the way your fingers worked through his white locks. He closes his eyes at the feeling, leaning a bit more into your touch. When you mention renewing your vows, his eyes flutter open, gazing directly into yours.

He gives a grin, “Baby, I’d marry you thousands of times over and over again. I don’t give a fuck where we do it, you’re just indecisive.”

You sigh, “I know. I just want it to be as perfect as the first time…” you think to yourself, eyes lighting up as you suggest, “What about Singapore? Maybe only our parents and friends, make it small, explore the country, yeah?”

He lets you speak, knowing just how perfect you wanted everything to be. But honestly? Satoru didn’t care. The first wedding was nice, but you were the only thing that he truly cared about. He just enjoyed listening to you.

When you suggest Singapore for the renewal, he chuckles a little, “You know my parents will argue with that. They’ll want to host it somewhere fancy like Rome or something.”

“And Singapore isn’t?” You blink, “God, you really were raised bougie as fuck. My parents thought the Statue Of Liberty was the nicest thing they’d ever seen.”

Satoru couldn’t help but laugh a little at how you put it, knowing you weren’t entirely wrong. But he shakes his head, “Singapore is extravagant, but it’ll be like talking to a damn brick wall, trying to persuade them to even consider Singapore. They’ll probably suggest some damn castle in Europe.”

“It’s unfortunate for them that it’s our wedding, hm?” You tilt your head, “Your controlling ass parents gon’ have to suck it up. Cause I can be a bridezilla,” you roll your eyes, ignoring his chuckle against your lips as he kisses them.

“You’re their princess. They’ll put up with your crazy ass and plan the wedding where you want it. Me on the other hand? I don’t give a fuck if it’s in the middle of some street, as long as you walk down the aisle and say you still love me.”

You giggle as he tickles your neck with his lips, pulling yourself back and you’re inches away from his face. You sigh, “I love you.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, “You’ having a stroke or something?”

You roll your eyes, “I mean it.”

He grins at your eye roll, knowing you were playful. But when you tell him you mean it, his blue eyes shift into a softer, more serious expression.

He brings his hands up, holding your face gently as you continue, “I just…appreciate you for being so patient with me. You love me, even if I cry because the sky’s blue.”

Your sincerity makes him want to melt. He didn’t care how many bags of potato chips he had to buy you, how many stuffed animals you wanted, or how many times you changed the sheets because your pregnancy hormones had you paranoid that the bed smelled weird. He could deal with it. He would deal with it. You were having his baby, carrying the most precious thing he’s ever had. He’d deal with you forever.

Satoru leans upwards, capturing your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. He pulls back, gazing at you as he says, “I’d go to the fuckin’ ends of the world for you.”

When he clutches you back against his mouth, it makes your heartbeat in your ears. You feel his nails dig into the skin of your hips, almost as if he’s trying to be soft with you. Key word—trying. You lightly pull your mouth back, breath hitching as he quickly wraps his fingers along the back of your neck, holding you close, your lips centimeters apart.

“Satoru…”

The way you breathe his name, it almost made him lose his mind right there. The way your body pressed against his, the way you sat in his lap, it made it damn near impossible to hold back. He wanted you so bad. He’d wanted you the moment he walked through the door. He needed to make you his again.

“I’m hungry,” he grunts along your mouth, your eyes fluttering as you blink, his light ones deep within your vision.

“Oh, um—“ you inhale, “Do you wanna stop? Want me to make you something?”

“Yeah. Open your fuckin’ legs.”

Your light gasp is swallowed by his mouth, his head twisting to the side, mouth overlapping as his tongue envelopes yours. Your shoulders fall, trying to get a grip along him as your body sinks lower within the warm water—the heat of the tub, the heat within your kiss, you feel fuzzy.

He pulls your mouth from his, clutching the side of your face as he questions, “Good, baby?” to which you nod your head, running your tongue over your bruised lips. He nods with a grunt at the confirmation, and it’s quick—you nearly lose your breath as he pulls you up by your hips, your small frame being bent along the rim of the tub, Satoru scooting your thighs above his face as he puts himself beneath you.

“Hold the edge of the tub. Arch your back,” he orders, and you grip your hands against the black marble, lifting your hips high, his large palms cuffing you by the skin of your ass. You hesitate as you try to look beneath yourself, nearly wanting to roll your eyes as your belly is in the way of seeing his face.

You stand on your toes beneath the water, legs lightly shuddering as you say, “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby…”

You grip the edge, biting your lip as you feel him spank your ass, rubbing the skin to soothe the sting it gives.

“Pussy is fuckin’ pretty, baby. Can I taste you?”

You let one of your hands gently reach down, pushing your weight onto his palms as you clutch a lock of his hair. You nod your head as you exhale shakily, “…Yes, please.”

He grunts, his tongue flattening as he drags it up the entirety of you, the rush of pleasure unexpected as you immediately tense. You can feel the vibration of his chuckle at your reaction, holding you tighter as his warm breath fans against your slick folds. He spreads you farther, his tongue darting out, licking another slow stripe up your slit before circling your clit with the tip.

It’s his moan that makes your lashes flutter, it’s like a candy he’d been rewarded with. You whimper as he spanks you again, “Fuck, baby. You taste like heaven,” he’s already stuffing his face in between your legs, pulling you down as he’s lapping at your clit like an animal, making the flesh even more wet from the arousal that’s collecting on your pussy.

“O—oh shit,” you gasp lightly, clutching his hair tighter, your legs shuddering more than before. His tongue swirls around your sensitive nub, soft and throbbing as it rubs against his lips, being tugged at each time he sucks in between his mouth. His jaw nudges at the opening of your walls, your legs beginning to tighten on each side of his face.

“Baby, you're dripping,” he groans in between licks, his voice muffled against your pussy, “Oh my god, shit is so fuckin’ sexy. Give me more.”

“Baby—w—wait,” you pull at his hair harder, your arousal beginning to spread in all parts of your mind, knowing he was desperately trying to pull that side of you that didn’t normally appear.

He raises one of his hands as he orders, “Come hold it. Not gonna let you run from my mouth, so imma’ ask nicely for now.”

You nearly pout, taking one of your hands as you reach back and intertwine your fingers together, Satoru placing it back against the skin of your ass, fully holding you in place, eating you out just how he wanted to.

Your moans fill the air as he continues to devour your pussy, sucking and licking with reckless abandon. He buries his face deeper, inhaling your scent deeply as he laps at your juices, drinking in every drop he can get.

"Mmmmph...need you to ride my face baby," he moans, that pleading voice beginning to get to you. He always knew how to knock your walls down. His hands grip your hips tightly as he begins motioning them in a thrusting motion, pulling you harder against his mouth to make you grind on him, whimpering to you, “C’mon, baby. C'mon, cmon. please.”

With each beg, his tongue begins to reach for your squelching opening, probing at your inner walls, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head kneels back as you arch, moaning as you pull yourself towards him, whimpering with him as you quietly ask, “Put your tongue in me.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you like that?”

“Y—yeah, ‘toru,” you whine softly, digging your nails within your own skin, the same hand that’s trapped under his.

He parts his mouth wider, giving your clit a good suck before he slides his face down, exhaling heavily as he sticks his tongue out, sliding you down on it, feeling as it curls within your walls to touch against your most sensitive spot. The both of you moan out, your eyes turning to the mirror of the bathroom as you see yourself—arched against his mouth, hair sprawled over your face as you angle yourself perfectly to grind on his tongue.

You’re becoming hornier by the second, taking your hand from under his that was trapped as you go back to holding his hair. Your giggle is sultry as you move your hips forward, circling them down onto his mouth as you whimper, “Want me to fuck down on your mouth baby? Tell me.”

“Yeah, baby. Need you to drench my fuckin’ mouth,” he groans deeply, shaking his head side to side, spanking you at your words. This is just what he wanted from you.

He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue delving deeper inside you, exploring every inch. Your moans echo through the bathroom, spurring him on as he laps at your juices, savoring your unique flavor.

"Fuck,” he gasps, “You’ taste so. Fuckin’. Good…” he’s thrusting his tongue in and out of you with each word, mimicking the act of penetration. Each stroke sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, causing your legs to tremble and your grip on his hair to tighten.

"You like that, baby?" he pants, his breath hot against your core, “Like when I tongue-fuck this pretty little pussy?"

Your response is a desperate whine, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet his tongue. Your velvety walls clench around the invader, creaming as he savors your taste. He's relentless, spearing in and out, stretching you open more and more.

"Take what you need from me, baby. This is your fuckin’ mouth, make it yours.”

His nose presses into your clit, rubbing it with each powerful thrust of his tongue. He starts moving it in and out slowly, but your hips are grinding chaotically, also savoring your tightness and relishing the feel of your inner muscles clenching around him. His hands are back to gripping your ass firmly, keeping you in position as he eats you out aggressively.

“Gonna make you cum so hard on my tongue, baby. Milk it for me..."

Your juices coat his chin and neck as he devours you, slurping and sucking greedily. He can't get enough of your taste, your scent even filling his senses. Your hair is flying all over your face and down your back, your head falling back as you’re moaning pathetically, dipping your hips down, almost like you’re dancing atop of him.

He’s going, “Mhmmm, mhmmm, yeah. Like that. Yes. Moan louder. Shit, baby..." he murmurs against your slick folds, "Love seeing you lose control like this."

He doubles his efforts, tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive bud before wrapping his lips around it and suckling hard. The vibrations from his moans send shivers down your spine as he works to push you closer to the edge. His strong hands grip your ass even tighter, spreading your cheeks wide to access your dripping entrance better.

You can only see the side of his face from the mirror, your craving for him is beginning to heighten, and now, you’re hungry. You pull yourself back from his mouth, looking at him through the mirror as you sultrily talk, “You want me to cum all in your mouth, baby? Beg.”

He looks up at you with lust-filled eyes, the brightest irises you’d ever seen somehow darkening.

“P—please, baby,” he begs, his voice low and needy, "I want to taste you when you're flooded. Keep going, give it to me. Fill my mouth with your cum, let me drink you down."

You begin grinding slowly against his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he moans. You tell him with a shake to your head, “You can do better than that, Daddy. C’mon…wanna hear you mean it, ‘toru. Wanna cum all over your face baby,” you whimper, toying with him, “C’mon baby, beg me, please…” you reach down, beginning to rub your clit, “Don’t wanna cum all alone…”

His eyes snap open, blazing with a hunger so intense it makes your breath hitch. He pulls back slightly, his chest heaving as he gazes up at you with raw desperation.

"F—Fuck, baby, please," he rasps, his voice thick with desire, "Let me make you cum. Let me cover my face in you. I need it, need to feel you coming apart on my tongue, in my mouth. Please, baby, let go for me..."

“So greedy, baby boy…” you nod your head, placing your clit back on his mouth, breathless as you pull his jaw down, “Put your tongue back in me, make me cum so I can sink down on your dick after.”

He lets out a guttural moan against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending shivers through you. He plunges his tongue back inside you, fucking you with it as he suckles your clit.

The both of you moan together, back to grinding on his mouth, your whines long and high-pitched as you feel your lower body jolting, orgasm coming in harsh waves as you cum within his mouth. Your moan gasps into a giggle as he spanks you in repetitions, tugging you back down to be on his lap. Some of the water had begun to drain, and you could see the hard strain of his tip, a bright pink, painful between his legs as it dripped pre-cum.

You pull him into a kiss, sloppily running your tongue against his mouth, lips parted wide as you ask between making out with him, “Want me to sink on it, baby?”

He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks up at you with wild, desperate eyes. His voice is hoarse when he speaks, "Yes, fuck yes... put that shit in, it’s so fuckin’ hard for you…”

He places a gentle palm along your swollen belly, to which you pull away and place on the back of your neck as you quietly assure him, “I’m okay.”

He grunts as he kisses your forehead—he was always concerned. You reach down as you run your hand along his tip, slapping it in between your clit and opening as you stick your tongue out, “Kiss me, baby,” whimpering, begging, “Gimme’ your mouth.”

He leans in, capturing your lips, returning the nasty kiss you’d given him earlier, dominating your mouth that has your neck fall back a bit. He clutches your neck closer, keeping your lips together as his tip spreads your pussy open, sinking your hips lower, dropping down onto his rigid length. You gasp into the kiss as he fills you completely, stretching you in a delicious pain around his fat girth.

He breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he looks down at where you’re joined, watching intently as he gives you a slow thrust upwards as he gasps, "Shit, baby... so tight... fuck."

You wrap your arms around him, hiding your face within his neck as you dig your fingers in his hair, voice tiny, high-pitched as you cry softly against him, pouting into his ear, “Ughn, Satoru….”

He holds you close, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he listens to your whimpers.

“That’s it baby—agh,” he whimpers himself, bouncing you down onto his dick, always close to splitting you in half, “Just relax baby—mmph,” he’s moaning pitifully with you, listening to the sounds of your skin clap together, tears brimming your eyes as you clutch him tighter. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure through both of you. He groans, low and guttural, as he buries his face in your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. "Fuck, baby... you feel so good... so fuckin’ perfect..." he growls, his breath hot against your ear.

He continues to pound into you relentlessly, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last. Your cries and whimpers fill the air, mingling with his own groans of pleasure. He can feel your walls clenching around him, trying to milk his dick for all it's worth.

"Ah, fuck yeah... that's it, baby," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency, the water from the tub splashing high each time. "Take it all, every inch... hnngh."

As he picks up speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he rasps, his voice strained with lust. "Gonna make a fuckin’ mess?”

You dig your face farther into his neck, your cheeks warm, tears dripping from your eyes as you groan lowly, “Agh—gh—fuck,” you sniffle, “Deeper, go d—deeper…”

His grip on your hips tightens, fingers sinking into your flesh as he responds to your plea. He takes both palms back to your ass, spreading the skin to open you up more, pulling you up until you’re barely along his tip, dropping you back down, skin burning as it sticks together from the creaming you’re spouting out. It makes you gasp, clawing at him as you place your fingers within your mouth, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. But it also makes you extremely wet.

You bring your face up, placing your hands along his hard stomach as you begin picking up your own hips, slamming them down against him. You see as that makes his head tilt back against the edge, holding you tighter as he helps you fuck him, his moan dragging out, pausing through each drop of your hips. His adam’s apple bobs severely, hair pulled out from his face, dark pink lips bruised as he grits his teeth.

His chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles flexing beneath your palms as he meets each of your downward thrusts with an upward grind of his hips. The angle changes, allowing him to hit that sweet spot inside you with unerring precision, stretching you wide and sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Fuuuck, baby..." he growls, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Ride me just like that... Take what you need..."

His hands slide down to grasp your thighs, thumbs digging into the sensitive skin as he guides your movements, encouraging you to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the feeling of being so completely filled and owned by him. The water churns around you, a frothy mix of sweat and soap, as you both surrender to the intensity of your passion.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You question, your small and cute voice making his tip jump inside of you. You look him directly in his eyes, placing your hands on your breasts as you rub your sensitive nipples, bouncing up and down against him.

“They’re so sensitive…” you whimper, “Wanna touch them? Might make me cum…”

“Let me suck on them, pretty. Know that’ll make you cum.”

He comes forward, but you push him back, wrapping your fingers along his throat, squeezing as you begin swirling your hips on top of him, “I missed when you begged me, where’s my needy boy? I miss him,” you whine, palming your nipples harder, feeling as his abdomen tightens.

He lets out a choked gasp as you tighten your grip on his throat, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "Right h—here baby," he rasps, his voice muffled slightly by your fingers.

"Need you so bad... Want to feel you cum on my dick…” His hips buck up sharply, driving himself deeper inside you as he strains against your hold, desperate for more friction, more pressure. "Don't stop, don't ever stop…” he begs, his body trembling with the force of his impending climax.

“Don’t want me to stop, baby?” You’re lifting your hips slowly, dropping them down harshly, the loud sound echoing in the bathroom, your giggle evil, moaning messily as you feel yourself beginning to cum on his tip.

“N—no, baby—Don't stop—“ his deep voice cracks with desperation as he feels your walls clenching around him.

“Ooooh, yes, baby,” your own voice is failing the control you want to give, your walls tight as they suck him in deeply. The sensation of your orgasm soaking his dick is too much to bear, and with a grunt, he buries his face between your breasts, his teeth grazing the tender flesh as he surrenders to his own release.

He listens to you first, holding you close as you let out a breath, not expecting it to turn into a sob, squirting heavily, the gush of it all drenched in between his continuous thrusts as you gasp, “I’m cumming, I’m cummingg.“

You can’t help but want to see his vulnerable side one last time as you talk to him, “Cum in me, pretty boy. Cum in me, Daddy. Please.”

He groans, his hips jerking erratically as he plunges deeper, chasing his climax. Your words, the desperate plea in your voice—it all shatters what little restraint he has left. He softly cries out, slamming into you one final time, his dick pulsing as he warms your insides with his cum.

As the aftershocks subside, he collapses onto you, his weight a comforting press against your skin. His breath hitches as he tries to regain composure, but the tremors running through him betray his vulnerability.

"Baby..." he whispers, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "That was... fuck, I needed that."

His fingers trace gentle patterns on your hip, a soothing caress meant to comfort both of you.

You don’t want to ruin the moment, lifting your face up as you give him a soft peck, leaning your head on his neck as you say, “Love you, ‘toru.”

He holds you close, just enjoying the peaceful moment together. He whispers against the skin of your neck, “I love you too, baby. So much.”

He doesn’t bother moving, even though the water has started to turn lukewarm. He wants to stay right here with you, holding you close. But eventually, he lifts his head, looking down at you as he asks, “You ready to get out before we prune up?”

Your face is warm again, nodding along his skin as you say, “Gotta pee,” as usual.

The moment the words leave your lips, he can’t help but laugh a little. He gives a chuckle, “Of course you fuckin’ do.”

You slept more often than usual in these last few months, but this had to have been the heaviest you’d slept of all. You were trapped under Satoru’s heavy arm, who snored unfortunately close in your ear. But it was somehow soothing. The love you shared for this man was like no other.

But when you wake up within the middle of the night, you feel yourself beginning to cramp, and it’s more irritating than anything. You’re too tired to get up and take your medicine, trying to force yourself back into sleep. But the cramps become more intense, and it makes you whimper lightly from the pain, holding your belly with your palm. You decide it was time to get up, lifting Satoru’s arm as you slowly slip out of bed.

“You’ alright, baby?” His deep voice calls, still half asleep.

“Just gonna go pee,” you tell him, pressing your feet into your slippers, ignoring your dog that lightly whines, nudging your body in support as you fully stand.

Even as he was half-asleep, he was still paying attention. When you told him you had to go pee, he grumbled a little, rolling onto his back. He felt cold without you in his arms, and he wanted you back immediately.

You take a deep breath as the cramps run through your entire body, worsening with each step. You frown as you clutch the material of your oversized shirt, just wanting to make it to the bathroom. But as you take another step, you feel a heavy pressure in between your legs, and you look down to see as fluid rushes down your legs, dripping onto the floor. Your heart could’ve stopped.

You’d been to several classes, read pamphlets, researched—even Google couldn’t stop you from your reaction when you weren’t supposed to panic.

Your body trembles as you scream, “Gojo!”

He grunts, “Jesus, baby. I know you’re fond of screaming my name but—“

He turns, seeing the fear within your eyes, looking down to see the fluid sliding down your legs. He thought he was a man that wasn’t afraid of anything, but this was more than what nightmares were made of.

“Oh shit.”

#satoru gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x black female character #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru smut

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whateveriwant · 1 year ago

Note

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

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talaok · 1 year ago

Text

A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-"

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad,

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered,

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good"

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily,

"I'm sure!"

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

3K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago

Text

Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.

It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.

Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.

“Like anything you see?”

Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.

“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.

“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”

Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”

“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.

“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”

“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”

“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.

Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”

Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”

——

At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.

“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”

“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.

Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least

“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.

“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”

He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.

“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”

“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’

“His name’s Tim?”

“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”

Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.

“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.

“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”

“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.

“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”

“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”

Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.

Jazz went quiet.

“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.

“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”

“Uh- I have parents.”

“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.

“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”

“I’ll think about it?”

Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.

“Gotham.”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“Playing hooky, are you?”

“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”

“Sure, sure.”

Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.

——

Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.

“Robin, muggers.”

“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”

“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”

#Jazz Fenton #jazz fenton casually suggesting murder #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #dc x dp #dcxdp #bamf danny phantom #Danny phantom and the weird experience of being the youngest and the oldest sibling #squatter! Danny Fenton #danny: well I don’t wanna go home so I’ll just stay here #this was in my drafts for so long lmfao #inspired by that one post where Tim had to have those expensive and giant wildlife cameras #but I think they’d get the compact one #dick Grayson #barbara gordon #Robin #batgirl

1K notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 10 months ago

Text

The scent of being mine

synopsis: lately your husband has been staying deep in his thoughts as if bothered by something. It's only natural you want to figure it out and help.

pairing and characters: Neuvillette x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), tiny hurt/comfort, draconian features (scenting, growling, implied sharp nails)

word count: 3k+ words

“Beloved, you are brooding. More than you usually are.”

Your comment snaps Neuvillette from his thoughts, long lashes fluttering in surprise. He blinks, primordially beautiful eyes finally focus on the document in front of him, and the man makes a frustrating discovery - he’s been staring at one single line of text for who knows how long.

“Beloved?” Your sweet voice soothes the momentary disappointment, and Iudex’s undivided attention is on you in a second.

“Yes, my dear? My apologies, I didn’t quite catch what you said. Could you be so kind and repeat, please?”

You lower the book onto your lap, and the man can’t help but relish in the sight of you comfortably lounging on the sofa in his office at the Palais Mermonia, with your shoes neatly put near one of its legs and your legs hidden under the light embroidered plaid. Your back and side sink into multiple pillows, half of which he fetched for you previously from the second sofa, and you look pleasantly relaxed within the walls of his work space, knowing very well that he has no meetings scheduled for the day, and the only people who can enter his office are the melusines with document delivery. And who would be uncomfortable in the presence of their own ‘daughters’?

“I was saying that you are brooding. And It won't be superfluous to note your sour mood too,” you nod in the window’s direction, where the sky is cloudy and gloomy. It has been this way for a couple of days already. “I wasn’t bringing it up since I thought you were simply a bit stressed, but after observing you for some time, I am sure there’s something on your mind that’s been bothering you immensely.”

Neuvillette exhales deeply. How could he ever hide anything from the woman he’s been married to for so long? Not that he ever tried, but subconsciously he sometimes tends to push his own worries aside not to make you fret. Besides, usually it’s not something of a big deal…

Watching the thoughts overtaking his mind again, you grab the bookmark from the armrest and soon the closed book takes its place, at the same time as you push the plaid off. Not caring to put the shoes on, you make a quick way to the grand doors to turn the key left in the hole from the inside. But changing your mind a little, you take a hold of a handle instead and crack the door slightly open, enough for the melusine at the reception to hear you.

“Sedene, sweety, Monsieur Neuvillette is taking a small break.”

You can’t quite see her perking up in her booth, but you know she is aware of what that means.

“Thank you for informing me, Madame. Would you like anything to drink or eat? I could send someone to put an order in whatever restaurant you’d like.”

“Much appreciated, but we’ll be fine.”

You hear her hum in understanding and only then close the door and lock it, turning the key two times.

“Now…” glancing back at your husband, you slowly walk back to your previous place of resting, but making it past the sofa and then around the desk, stopping right at his side. Neuvillette lifts his head, looking at you, and immediately pushes the chair back to make room. Gloved hands take a hold of your waist when you step closer and help you settle down onto his lap. One stays gingerly on your hip, the other is placed upon your knees, as you adjust your position, turning half-around to face him. Mesmerizing eyes with slitted irises stare at you with hardly-veiled adoration, and for a moment it almost fools you into thinking that nothing is wrong. Until he inhales and white eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Neuvi, what’s going on? Is it something I can assist you with?”

The man leans forward, pressing his face to your neck, silky locks of his fringe tickling you when he releases a breath. Your fingers find the back of his head, softly scratching the scalp, making him groan in satisfaction. His own digits flex, and you think you feel the claws digging slightly into your flesh through the dark material of his gloves and the skirt of your own clothes, and you let the dragon be a tiny bit greedy in expressing his affections.

“It’s not something I thought would bother me,” you hear him murmur into your neck. Instead of rushing to ask him to elaborate, you encourage him to take his time with a soft touch, gently following the pointy shape of his ear with your fingertip. The man shivers, but quickly relaxes, leaning into your body a bit more.

“Why logically I understand I’m in the wrong, but on an instinct level it doesn’t give me rest. Remember the celebration Lady Furina threw three days ago?”

Ah, of course you remember. It was a nice little feast the Archon organized to mark another successful staging of hers, to which your husband and you were obviously invited. You can’t, however, recall anything particular that could upset Neuvillette. He wasn’t offered anything to taste he didn't enjoy - had his own supply of fresh water even; he had no cases to worry about, having finished everything rather important beforehand, and he was not engaged in any interactions he could potentially be uncomfortable with. Maybe it was something related to you? However, you can’t think of anything: most of the time you spent conversing with Furina, discussing her next outstanding and grand performance, or dancing with your beloved, happily twirling in his embrace. Sure, other people approached you too, but…oh. Wait, there was something.

“Do you mean the celebration during which that opera performer from Li Yue was flirting with me?”

Immediately his body tenses and a low sound, kind of sounding like a growl, escapes his strained throat. He quickly composes himself though, once you drop your hand from his head to his back, drawing circles there.

“...I apologize for that.”

“Please don’t, I don’t mind a bit of jealousy,” you assure him, and the man finally leans back, looking at you with those fairytale eyes.

“You think it was jealousy?”

“Well, maybe right now it was just a bit of frustration, but back then I think it was jealousy,” Neuvilette hums, lowering his gaze, processing the information. You meanwhile decide to ask more. “But what sparked it? You know I am yours and that no human will ever be able to steal me from you.”

“Ah, my love, I am fully aware of that,” gloved palm leaves your knee and cups your cheek instead. “I know all that, but…but what I felt is hard to explain in words.”

“Try,” you encourage, turning your head and kissing his palm, “I’ll get it.”

“Alright,” with a sigh he lets his fingertips outline the contour of your jaw and travel down the side of your neck, sending a pleasurable sensation down your back. “I suppose I should start with what happened before, when we were still back home. You looked so ravishing and regal - a true gem to an eye, - and I just couldn’t help but let some of my scent linger on you.”

Which is absolutely fine, you love doing the same for him.

“Keeping that in mind I felt all those strange emotions wringing my heart, as he was giving you compliments, especially about the scent, not realizing it’s mine. And then more and more.”

As he doesn’t find what more to say, you stare at him, trying to analyze the information. After a couple of minutes of silence, during which you absent-mindedly braided a little braid out of his straight lock, you decide to summarize.

“So… If I understood you correctly, it felt upsetting that, basically, he caught the whiff of you on me, yet didn’t stop his attempts to hit on me. Am I right?”

“Exactly,” a small smile graces his pale lips, and Iudex presses a delicate kiss to your shoulder. “I could not have worded it better.”

“Hmm… Now I see why you are torn. It is annoying for sure, but it’s not like an ordinary human could know of draconian peculiar properties.”

He nods, thumbing at the pulse point on your neck, staring a little bit past you. His state is saddening, really, even though a tiny slither of pride infiltrates your heart - knowing your husband wants the world to know you are his as much as you want to claim the same about him… Would’ve made you purr if you were a feline.

You shiver when Neuvillette brings his face close again, soft lips pressing to the side of your neck.

“You are so dear to me, my love…” he breathes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat, voice full of unbridled devotion, something not many can hear from this stoic man throughout their whole life. “There are days when I can’t bear the thought of you not being close to me, I overcome with desire to be in your presence, to hold you in my arms, to listen to your divine voice… When you call my name, I want to bring everything I have to your feet.”

“But you already do so,” you cup his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “You don’t have to say all of it - you sound like you are apologizing, like you are trying to excuse your natural behavior. Don’t do it, please. You are so precious to me, I’d be damned if I ever felt unnerved by something like this.”

“I apologize if it sounded like this,” he sighs, long lashes flattering close, when you proceed to kiss over his eyelids. “I just meant to express how thankful I am that you chose me.”

“Oh, Neuvi,” you chuckle, kissing the bridge of his nose and when the tip of it. “I adore when you are so affectionate in private. As for the public display, if we return to the topic of scent… I think I could figure something out for the both of us. If you trust my judgment, that is.”

“How can I not?” Those eyes are staring back at you, bottomless pools swirling with wonder and elation. “Only if you truly want this.”

“I do,” your lips hover dangerously close to his. “And I will find the way.”

Soft thuds rhythmically yet quite leisurely cut through the lofty noises of the Court of Fountaine, catching the attention of the passersby. One hit of an elegant cane against the pavement equals two steps of yours, as you and your husband walk through the main square of the city. Your appearance - no matter together or by yourself - always gathers attention, and you could bet that if Fontaine didn’t have a law prohibiting photography of executives without their permission, your picture would’ve adorned tomorrow’s copy of The Steambird.

And you are a sight to behold - your hand resting in the crook of his elbow, gloves matching perfectly his today’s cravat of choice, jewelry specifically picked to mirror the beauty of their wearer’s partner, clothes tailored to clearly be a ‘couple outfit’... It is pretty evident that this outing is planned, if the Iudex’s absence from the Palais Mermonia didn’t serve as a clue.

You hold no conversation, rather relishing in the warm rays of sunlight (you did though tease Neuvillette upon stepping outside that his mood seemed to improve). Despite looking like it’s you who is clutching onto the man and him leading you somewhere, it’s completely vice versa. Your beloved has absolutely no idea what kind of ‘surprise’ he is soon to experience, but your previous words keep his mind at rest - you found a solution for his concern.

As a result, his high spirits are pretty apparent to the people who know him well. Or the melusines, if one is being accurate, who approach you two along the way with warm words of greetings and cute waves of their hands, which brightens Neuvillette’s features more evidently.

“I think we should soon visit the Merusea Village,” you suggest after bidding goodbye to Tristane. “And do a little gathering for our girls who work here, in the city. I am sure they have many stories to share with us.”

“I would really like that,” Neuvillette's smile is a heart-warming sight. You can only hope that you’ll get to see it more after today. “How about we start planning tomorrow after work?”

“That would be wonderful! I can’t wait to write an invitation to every single one. And to the village too.”

“Then it’s on you as always,” he agrees without objection, leaning a little to subtly kiss your temple when you turn the corner. Letting out a soft chuckle, you give him a fond look, and then focusing back on the street.

It’s barely a couple of minutes later when your partner sees you perk up. Trying to pinpoint what caught your eye, the man scans the signboards of the shops and boutiques lining up at both sides of yours. Jewelry? No, he doesn’t think so - you adorn each other with fine gemstones regularly. Clothes? Doubtful, given you’ve just received a couple of new outfits a week before. Maybe it’s-

You disturb these wandering thoughts, tugging on his elbow to catch his attention. Looking at you and then following the direction of your raised hand, Neuvillette lifts his eyes to read the signboard above the shop you’ve stopped in front of.

“Palais des parfums”

“So,” you start when he gives you a questioning look, “it’s a perfumery, yes. And my suggestion is the following - let’s choose a scent we could wear together. Before you get concerned about it becoming too popular, because we will use it, this shop has an option of creating something personal. We can just pay a little more to make it exclusive.”

“The same…scent?” Your husband hums, touching his chin in thought. This actually sounds quite good - created by a human master, it is to be perceived by humans, and by utilizing one fragrance on you both it will be made clear that the two of you are spouses. Not to mention the newspaper that will spread the fact for others to know. “My dear, that’s a marvelous idea.”

“Really?” A wide smile lifts the corners of your lips.

“Really. I like it a lot,” he assures you with a smile of his own. “And I do favor the possibility of making perfume specifically for us. How did you know though, my love?”

“Have done my research. And already spoke to the vendor before. Furthermore, I think we can order the creation of two perfumes. One for every day, and one for grand events where our presence is required.”

“I see you’ve done your research indeed,” his words are soft and gaze is full of admiration. It’s so hard to resist and not kiss him right in the middle of the street, yet let your fingertips gently scratch his forearm.

“I promised my husband a solution, didn’t I? Couldn’t disappoint you.”

“You can never disappoint me, if anything you astonish me every single day of our lives. Shall we get inside?”

“We shall. Just please, beware, there are a lot of fragrances mixed in the air. I am afraid your nose will be assaulted just like mine was.”

“I can bear with it, beloved. I would be a coward of a husband, if I turned back after the amazing work my wife did,” your cheeks heat up at his praise and you lightly dig your covered nails into his arm.

“Oh, stop it, no need to be so sweet, I already understood your appreciation for this,” your eyes motion to his hand resting on the hilt of the cane and fingers joyfully tapping against the wood. With a barely audible chuckle, the man unhooks your arms, wrapping his around your waist, and steps forward, reaching for the handle.

A soft chime caresses his ears, as the maddening mix of scents hits him right in the nose. Glancing to the side to check on you, he notices how you instantly switch to breathing through your mouth and follows your example. It, thankfully, gets better.

The shop owner is not hard to find, a sweet lady in her late 50’s welcomes you with a glint in her eyes upon recognizing you, which soon is replaced by the look of surprise when she sees your companion.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur, Madame, how can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs Deschamps,” you greet her with a smile, “I came by two days ago, remember?”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget our dear Madame? You were curious about my perfumes and if I do personal orders.”

“Right! This is my husband,” you motion to the man still courteously holding your waist, who bows in greeting.

“Pleasure to be meeting you.”

“O-oh! How could I not know you and your husband? Your wedding was the event of the century!”

“Haha, you flatter us,” you chuckle merrily, covering your mouth. “We are here to put in an order. We’d love to buy a newly crafted perfume. However, we have a couple of conditions…”

It’s almost evening when the doorbells chime again, marking your departure. Once again walking side by side and with arms linked, Neuvillette feels an almost primordial satisfaction. These hours spent in that stuffy, smelly box of a shop will be absolutely worth it when your order is complete. While he does feel the inevitable approach of a runny nose after test-smelling way too many fragrances, and it doesn’t feel like he left work today at all, as he was handling legal documents relied to the exclusivity of the product, he doesn’t regret a single mora spent and to be spent in the future for this.

Soft thuds once again cut through the sounds of the city, and they are gently lulling your mind. Maybe your head hurts just a little bit, but it pales in comparison to the invested state of your husband and how much evident fun he had in meticulously choosing the right aromatic notes to your future shared scent.

You can’t wait to help him apply it every single morning to come and get the same treatment in return. This is going to be a new, hopefully a long-staying option to your usual scenting routine.

taglist: @meimeimeirin

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x fem!reader #neuvillette #genshin impact fluff

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jweekgoji · 2 months ago

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Hello! Can I request a nsfw cogged Orion pax x cog less femme reader ? I was thinking after he came back from the surface to his miner friends.

Cogged!Orion/Cogless!Femme!Reader [TFO]

tw: size difference, valveplug (MDNI), soft and inexperienced!Orion, sub-ish!Orion at the start, first time, awkward intimacy, size kink. word count: ~1800 a/n: uni work makes me a little more busy now, but i hope i am not making you wait for too long. i tried to read it a few times and check for mistakes, but i'm eepy so...

Orion likes to touch. The way he gently places his servo on one of his friend's shoulders or lightly taps their frame to get the attention, it's how he used to show his care towards someone, to bring comfort. Growing up and being surrounded by many bots, some so friendly or not, it was natural for him to become the most tactile bot you ever met.

With you, it is only worse. The young troublemaker just can't stand a minute without having his servo around you, because that's how he is, so clingy and needy of the same affection and closeness with you.

You can't remember at least a one day when he wouldn't approach you with a surprise hug from behind, often pulling you closer to his chassis during a short breaks from working in mines. Even though every day he was risking his own life for the better of Iacon, sometimes even smacked by your supervisors, he never lost this innocent smile on his face. What more does he need in his life when he has you next to him?

Orion is the real definition of the sunshine person, the natural-born leader, always everywhere at once, seeking for more trouble the second you look away from him.

When he is so close, servos around your waist, his chassis against your own, you find it difficult to stare for too long into those big, bright blue optics of his, you feel your own one straining as if you had been looking for too long at the Sun.

Now the same intimacy between the two of you feels different, somehow, the touch is as gentle as before, but the usual brightness of his optics is not the same. Orion himself now looks different.

Stronger, taller, mature...tired?

A lot had happened in that short time he had on the surface of your home planet, so you never press on him to tell you more about than he wants. Right now, he wants to cling to the bits of comfort you can provide. How much he wants to hug you tighter, just to express that suppressed desire for warmth and solace.

Orion's hold around your waist tightens just a little more before he slowly relaxes. He notices how his servo is large enough to wrap around your entire waist now.

He knows you're strong, no matter the difference in size or lacking the cog, it doesn't make you any less strong than him. If anything, the position you are in makes him more vulnerable than you ever have been. It's almost cute how quickly he pulls his servos from you after holding you a little tighter than he intended to, already looking all awkward and guilty, like a kicked puppy.

“Sorry, didn't uh...” he pauses for a moment, his optics shyly flickering to one side and to the other, then going back to your face. “...didn't mean to do that.”

How can he be so afraid to touch you now? As if you were made of a fragile glass? You couldn't help but huff, placing your servos on his face, your thumbs gently moving over the smooth metal of his helm. That tiny little «ears» he had now much longer, as you note silently in your mind, and that almost makes you want to gently tug at them.

Orion leans into your touch, closing his optics and relaxing, as he lets you caress him. In a position like this, when you straddle his thigh, he has nothing against letting you do whatever you want with him. Makes it easier to focus on the feeling and relax, rather than the constant fear of doing something wrong.

You can feel Orion's servo carefully placed over your own, his digits circling over your wrist in an almost soothing manner.

If only someone could see you two right now, such a big bot like him, melting under the touch of the small no-cog? And you were the one, acting all gentle towards him? The thought makes him shiver in pleasure, just staying with you like this is enough to warm his spark.

You lean closer for a kiss, struggling to reach for his face, until he tilts his head down, meeting your lips. A quiet groan escapes from him once you press yourself closer. If you try to listen intently, you might hear how fast his spark is beating in his chamber right now.

His servos slide lower, moving over the sides of your frame, only to stop to rest on your thighs, digits gently squeezing the soft plating.

There's something in his mind wanting more of it—that just those innocent, butterfly like kisses and tight embraces aren't enough, his spark practically yearning for your body against his.

But he can't tell you this, can he? He doesn't want to sound too greedy, too pushing, you probably aren't ready for him...for this. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable. Orion would rather let you do everything at your own pace, no matter how agonizingly slow your servos move over his frame right now. It seems like a silent torture once you start teasingly moving your index finger around the center of his chassis, where the empty slot for his t-cog once was.

Orion tilts his head back a little, servos visibly trembling, as if trying to ground himself from flipping you underneath him and finally having his way with you. The silent struggling doesn't go unnoticed by you. Even though it was obvious to both of you, how much he wants to continue and ask for more, but he refuses to beg for it. He feels too shy, too scared to ask it from you, stubbornly suffering in silence.

Luckily for Orion, you might be no less stubborn than him as you begin gently grinding against his thigh. Slowly, carefully at once, just to concentrate on his reaction to this. You were ready for him to tell you to stop or to pull away immediately, but your concerns disappeared as soon as you heard a soft, strangled moan.

“Don't stop,” he manages to say between heavy breaths, optics half-lidded as he looks at you.

It's almost like he was waiting for it for cycles, given how quickly he wraps his servos around your thighs, only to position you between his legs, your back now pressed against his chassis.

He knows you're small, with him being almost twice your size, there's no way you would be able to take his spike without hurting you. Just thinking of it, of accidentally making you hurt at the moment as special as this...—

“It's fine” you murmur softly in response, leaning back against him. "Let's start little by little at first."

Orion only nods silently, and you can almost spot a tiny blue tint on his cheeks the moment he finally opens up his interface panel for you. A mech his size, and here he is, nuzzling his face against the top of your head in weak attempts to hide his own shyness, and that could not but encourage you to continue.

You lower yourself a little, so your valve could gently grind against the tip of his spike, already glistening with droplets of transfluid. You wonder, how long has he been like this, trying to ignore his own needs when you were right beside him?

A thin line of lubricant spreads around your entrance, mixing with your own wetness, now making you shudder at the burning, hot feeling, seeping into your frame. It is so unfair, the way you are so, so close and at the same time, so far away from where he desperately wants you to be. It's too much to bear.

You are so tiny compared to him, he can't help but remind himself to always be careful with you. Not to hold you too tight, or maybe not to accidentally break you the moment he can finally push his spike deep into you. No, no, don't get too tempted with ideas, Pax!

Orion groans softly, breathing a hot air against the crook of your neck. You're barely doing anything, and somehow, it is just too much. You can feel his spike desperately twitching against your folds, as if silently begging you to take mercy on him. He grinds against your entrance once more, rubbing the tip until he lines up with your valve.

He carefully thrusts up into you, the tip of his spike slipping in and out, just a fraction. It takes all of his self-control not to give in to the urge to thrust up into you, to bury himself inside you till the hilt. Even then, he is grateful for everything you give him.

“So good, so good around me, sweetspark,” he praises, planting a soft kiss on your neck, muttering your name over and over again in sync with a slow roll of his hips.

Orion groans as you continue to meet his thrusts, moving your hips against his own. The thought of his sparkmate, so smaller than him and yet you're taking him so well. There’s no mistake, Primus himself blessed him with you, with how perfect you are for him, everything in you is flawless. There is no way you weren’t created and destined to be his.

He looks down at you, an obvious fascination and adoration in his optics once he meets your own. The sight of you, almost salivating from pleasure alone is enough to push him over the edge.

It feels much more intense for you than you could have imagined. Each slow, tender thrust makes you arch your back as he stretches your insides. You already struggle to take him like this, with not even a half of his size inside you, yet you're already a shaking and whining mess on top of him. So full.

You let out a soft mewl once Orion thrust into you again, and that was enough to suddenly bring you to overload. You pant softly, closing your optics for a moment to catch your breath. Poor, poor tiny thing, didn't even fully realize how close you were already with how good his spike felt inside you.

You feel him throb inside you again, and you tense up at the realization. He didn't reach his own release.

Orion notices your slightly panicked state when you gently try to sit up again, only to slump back against his chassis, too tired to move for now. Despite everything, he's happy. He's so, so lucky to have you right now. It's so adorable how you immediately think of his own pleasure, a second after your own overload.

“Don't worry about me,” he gently kisses the top of your helm, his servo soothingly rubbing your thigh. “It brings me more pleasure to watch you like this.”

#orion pax x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #transformers one x reader #transformers one

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strwbrryeyes · 10 months ago

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𖦹°｡⋆ ushijima as a best friend

⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, growing up together, lmk if i miss anything

⟡ a/n: hi. sorry. im sick again. and writer block. i tried. im very bad at shiratorizawa.

⟡ best friend series: semi, tendou || masterlist

best friend ushijima who you met in kindergarten when you fell off the swing set seat a few swings away from his own.

best friend ushijima who you immediately became best friends with after he got off of his own swing to help you up. he gave you his spare cookie.

best friend ushijima who you quickly became attached to causing everyone around the two of you to notice the dynamic of him being quiet and preserved and you being slightly loud and obnoxious.

best friend ushijima who took an interest in volleyball at a young age and who you watched in awe at his natural talent.

best friend ushijima who the first time you saw cry was because he was being made fun of at volleyball camp for being left handed.

best friend ushijima who you stood up for by throwing a volleyball at any bully (you didn't even play volleyball at the camp you just decided to go with him one day to avenge him)

best friend ushijima who signed you up for volleyball manager in middle school without asking you first because he thinks of you as his "guardian angel". you didnt protest you just found it as a way to spend time with your best friend and to not be bored.

best friend ushijima who ran into oikawa at a game in middle school and was in immediate awe at his hard work so when he went up to talk to oikawa to ask if he wanted to preactice together one day he was shocked to get an immediate no.

best friend ushijima who was still stunned by the time you walked over to him and oikawa so you dragged him away before waving bye to oikawa. oikawa became a reoccurring character in your lives but we won't get into it.

best friend ushijima who met tendou and immediately invited the both of you to his house to meet. you two hit it off.

best friend ushijima who again signed you up for volleyball manager without asking in high school but it was expected.

best friend ushijima who you visit at his dorm in school everyday along with tendou to mess with him.

best friend ushijima who made time his daily runs to make sure he's staying consistent.

best friend ushijima who in your second year of high school asked you how you felt about him becuase he had a suspicion that you had a crush on him. you did.

best friend ushijima who said he also had a crush on you but decided that you both needed to focus on your own goals first before becoming official and you agreed.

best friend ushijima who you still weren't official with but who would still buy you little gifts to reassure you that he still liked you.

best friend ushijima who in your third year of high school worked harder than ever on volleyball (until he got to the big leagues ofc) because he wanted to make a name for himself.

best friend ushijima who immediately went to you crying after he lost nationals. this was the second time you've seen him cry in all the years of knowing him.

best friend ushijima who after graduation invited you to move in with him while he furthers his volleyball career and while you further whatever your career is so you can still make time to see each other.

best friend ushijima who finally asks you out properly by leaving bouquets of your favorite flowers all over the apartment leading to your room where he was standing in a suit holding out a necklace with his name on it. "i've made you wait long enough, please do me the honor of being mine" "wakatoshi, you make it sound like you're proposing to me" "do you want me to? i can go get a ring" "no it's okay! of course i'll be yours" best friend ushijima who is now boyfriend ushijima who actually proposes to you after a month because when you know you know. it was even more extravagant than when he asked you out.

#𖦹°｡⋆ 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾 #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader fluff #ushijima wakatoshi x reader fluff #ushijima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff

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nanamiscocksleeve · 3 months ago

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Someone You Loved

I'm a mess since I finished Xavier's myth and my period came early so now I'm just sad and can't focus on anything else. Headcanons for the men when MC breaks up with them. Warnings: None, but lots of angst because everything SUCKS. Love and Deepspace. Hmph. More like Love and Deep Depression.

In the darkness, Zayne wakes suddenly, his hands instinctively reaching out to pull you to him; only for his grasp to curl into cold sheets and emptiness.

How long had it been? Since he’d slept peacefully? The nightmares never seemed to plague him when you were asleep beside him in his bed, your breath softly ghosting the crook of his neck. He glances up at the ceiling trying to calm his breath. The little dreamcatcher you’d hung so long ago sways slightly and his heart clenches. The bed felt too big for just him. Before meeting you he slept in the middle; now he can’t bring himself to take back your half, leaving it empty, remembering the way your curled form occupied it.

The only time he saw you was when you came in for your checkup. And you seemed fine, which was good, but a part of him is haunted by the possibility that maybe something about him had made you leave him. You had insisted it wasn’t but he can’t help but run scenarios over and over in mind, swirling like a mess of ink in water.

Perhaps his reticent nature had finally driven you away. Or his sarcasm. Or maybe the scars on his hands. Women didn’t like scarred men, did they? He’d wondered about that for too long before Greyson, catching him staring at his hands, said, “Your hands are healing Dr. Zayne. Why do you look at them so doubtfully?”

After those words had been spoken, Zayne had thrown himself into his work. He’d always been a workaholic of course, but it had amplified to a point where he couldn’t go home. It was on purpose. He slept in his office until his superior had caught him, insisting he can’t sleep here.

No one was checking in on him. No one to remind him to take a break or to coax him into taking a nap in between patients. No one waking him up with a smile and a slice of cake that they’d picked up on their way to his place.

The nightmares started after he tried sleeping at home. He hates himself for feeling like a little boy, unable to sleep without a security blanket. But he needed you. The way all living things needed air and sunlight to thrive, he needed you in such a poignant way that it almost stops his blood knowing you’re not in his life anymore.

He knows he needs to sleep. Silently, because that’s what he’d grown accustomed to, silently rolling out to bed so as to not disturb you, he pads over to his closet and pulls out a t-shirt, far too small to be one of his own.

The t-shirt had somehow survived the purge, the day you’d taken all your stuff out of his apartment. It was strange to look at his apartment now because all he sees are the empty spaces you left behind. The spots on the windowsill where your little planters used to be. The blank space on the nightstand on your side of the bed where your phone, earbuds, and hand lotion used to once sit. The cup in the bathroom now holds only one toothbrush.

He brings the t-shirt to his nose and instantly your scent fills his being. He’s thankful he didn’t return it to you as he’d initially planned. The piece of fabric that retained the wonderful smell of your shampoo and the fresh scent of your skin. It calmed him. Cradling it against his cheek, he makes his way back to the bed, laying the t-shirt on his pillow and burying his nose into it as he tries to find a comfortable position.

The t-shirt works its magic, eventually lulling him into a dreamless sleep. The only peace he’s ever known was when he was with you.

It was hard to avoid Xavier no matter where you went. His being your upstairs neighbor and your mission partner made it impossible not to see him. His chest ached whenever he saw you but he masked it with a smile. He never stopped looking out for you. Because he had promised, hadn’t he? So many centuries ago, in a different lifetime, that he’d always be there for you no matter what?

The day of the breakup is always a blur to him. He can’t recall any of the details, but he remembers your face with clarity, remembers the pained expression in your eyes. He had soothingly embraced you, encouraging you to talk to him about what was bothering you, because even his deepest worries never fathomed the idea of you leaving him.

Xavier had frozen when you had tearfully whispered that you wanted to break up. Surely he had misheard you? But no, he hadn’t. You had tried, in vain, to get him to explain where he disappeared to. It bothered you when Xavier disappeared and it didn’t matter if he came back each time. You told him you wanted the truth, and nothing less than that would convince you to stay. Xavier had faltered; he knew he owed it to you, but he didn’t know where to begin.

Philos was a distant dream, probably lost to time and deepspace but he couldn’t help it. The possibility of returning to his own timeline weighed down on him, a heavy burden of duty. If it had been just him, he would have gladly given up months ago, content to stay here with you. But the crew that had accompanied him, dedicated to his cause, stuck here because of his decisions deserved the chance, and he couldn’t give up on them.

Knowing he would never be able to explain without hurting you, he had given you a sad smile, his blue eyes growing misty as he tried to put conviction into his words. “I hope you find someone more worthy.” The feeling of your hands leaving his felt like a rift had divided his heart into two, a chasm separating you both. You left his apartment, and he spent the night on his balcony, listening to your sobs carrying through the air, not knowing how he could take away your pain.

With much trial and error, Xavier now had a cordial relationship with you. He accompanied you whenever you asked. He still hung out with you at the arcade and came out for hot pot whenever you asked. Because hadn’t he promised to love you even when you weren’t his?

Xavier watches you talking to Tara and when you finally catch his eye, you give him a smile and wave, which he returns. Although he wishes you weren’t broken up, it always brings him relief to see you smiling. He had felt the satisfaction of watching you become a happier person, seeing you grow and eventually finding joy around you. And that would have to be enough.

He would settle for having you in his life any way he could, even if you decided you didn’t love him. Because after losing you twice, he’d take anything to cut his losses.

Thomas follows Rafayel around his studio. He can see the state Rafayel is in, the dark bags under his eyes, and the unkempt hair and clothes.

“Rafayel, I think some rest-”

“I don’t need it.” Rafayel picks up a paintbrush, which is already messy from the various hues it was dipped into previously and begins to put strokes onto his canvas. Across the room are scattered paintings and unfinished sculptures, all half-done and looking rather gloomy.

Thomas tries again. “I can book you a weekend at your favorite onsen. Perhaps a massage. It’ll help clear your head.”

Rafayel glares at him, anger in his lavender eyes. “I said I don’t need it. I have work to do. You know where the door is.”

Signing, Thomas takes his dismissal and the studio is plunged into silence. Rafayel tries again to finish his painting then grits his teeth and hurls the paintbrush away. Droplets of paint drip across the marble floor as it clatters some feet away.

It had been a while since you had broken up with him and Rafayel feels like he’s stuck in time. All his works are incomplete, becoming a neverending list of things that he might never actually pay attention to again.

Of late, he’s obsessed with trying to paint you, but each time he recalls your face, something or the other feels off. The shape of your eyes, too slanted to be accurate, the curve of your nose, too round to be correct, haunt him as he gazes at the canvas before him. It was you, yet it wasn’t you.

There’s panic growing in his chest at the idea that he might be forgetting what you look like. His hands and memory seem to be at odds with each other, unable to communicate and translate what he was remembering onto paper.

He traces the edge of your face, the paint smearing his fingertips, frustration welling up in his heart. He feels disappointed in himself. Hadn’t he said to himself that even if you forgot, he’d remember for the both of you? Yet now, he can’t recall the features of your face, like the image of you in his head was behind a pixelated curtain, and all he could recollect were rough features that somewhat resembled you.

He might put himself into a manic state. He hasn’t slept, haunted by the possibility that he may never paint your portrait accurately again. Rafayel pulls out his phone, the light illuminating his tired face and he desperately looks through his photos. A few days after the breakup, in a fit of rage, he’d deleted all your photos off his phone, an action he now regretted.

“Please…please…there’s gotta be at least one…” he prays as he swipes through the pictures. As he’s about to give up, he finally comes across a single photo, a group picture, taken from his art exhibition some time ago. And there you are, all your features coming back to him with painful clarity. With a sigh, he picks up a fresh paintbrush and tries again, feeling relief flood him as your familiar face finally begins to bloom onto the canvas.

Luke and Kieran looked in concern at the closed door of Sylus’s room. Sylus wasn't the type to conduct business remotely. Even with all the henchmen at his disposal, he still preferred going out into the N109 zone to ensure his armories and money accounts were secure. But after the breakup, he had been delegating more and mingling with his associates less.

The missing bottles of whiskey hadn’t gone unnoticed by their keen eyes, and the twins carefully crack open his bedroom door a fraction. He’s slumped over the large desk made of fine oak wood, a liquor bottle cracked open, and a glass in his hand.

His ruby eyes are hazy and it’s clear he’s intoxicated. The little grumpy crow plushie was sitting on his desk, and his unfocused eyes were gazing in reminiscence at it while Mephisto glared at the soft toy in objection.

“Boss?” Luke dares to approach him, and Sylus looks up sharply.

“What?” The irritation in his voice is evident.

“Um…Your meeting with the protocore dealer. He just left a message saying he hasn’t been able to get in touch with you and…” His voice falters as Sylus’s eyes glow like embers in a fireplace.

“He can wait.” The words are snarled as he downs the whiskey in a single gulp before pouring more. “Get out.”

Luke and Kieran retreat but they glance at each other despairingly. This was the N109 zone after all. Dealings with mafia leaders didn’t just get put on hold without consequences.

“Damn it all,” Sylus murmurs. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, and all he sees are your eyes, fixated on him in horror. He was used to the erratic atmospheric changes in the N109 zone but the night you left, it felt like he was being choked by the air, not a drop of oxygen left for him to breathe in. He knew he’d overdone it when threatening the merchant, knew he should have controlled himself from using his evol as cruelly as he had. But he needed the upper hand and the only way knew how to assert himself was through violence.

He’d never hurt you. His precious little dove, his whole heart. But what you’d witnessed had left you terrified of him and his ominous abilities. Sylus had begged; his pride wasn’t so great as to risk losing you. He’d fallen to his knees, his arms locked around your waist, his cheek resting on your chest, listening to the way your heart was beating in your ribcage. It was hard to say how long the two of you had remained that way until you had gently disengaged from his grip, bid him goodbye, and left. He wasn’t deterred at first, calling and texting you desperately, sending gifts and bouquets to your door until you had called him and told him to stop.

He drinks, feeling the heat and the sting of the whiskey as it goes down his throat, the only thing that helped with the pain. You were the sunlight in this dark world and without you, Sylus feels nothing except coldness. You were gone, the only blessing he’d ever received.

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

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cellophanejpeg · 1 year ago

Text

the rooftop.

Every girl in school likes Tsukishima Kei. Everyone knows he's the popular tall boy who helped take the school volleyball team to the nationals. Naturally, he's the target of various confessions per week. He's certain at least of every class has confessed to him. And then, there's you. The mysterious girl that silently hangs out with him on the rooftop of the school building. All he knows about you is that you're in the same classmas Hinata and Kageyama. That is, until you come up with a proposition he finds it hard to deny.

w.c.: 6.7k

hi. fake relationship. high school. feelings. sorry if this feels rushed towards the end, ive been writing this since januray 2023. crossposted on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sky is a nice blue, and you enjoy the view as you lean on the rails of the roof on your lunch break, basking on the sunlight and the cool wind breeze mother nature decided to bless you this afternoon. Despite your friends having lunch in the classroom, you like being alone at this time of the day. It's the only time you have to yourself. After this, you'll have classes and club activities, and then you'll have to get home and have homework to do and study and won’t have even a single thought to yourself.

This is why you sigh silently when you hear a stranger's voice coming from behind you. Right at the corner of the roof, where they can't see you, there's a girl confessing her crush to the same tall boy who hangs out silently on the same roof as you. You look over your shoulder and see her handing him a pink envelope, bowing and leaving. The boy just stares at it, in silence, adjusts his glasses and walks over to the trash can by the rail where he tosses the envelope.

You scoff at him.

“Shut up,” Tsukishima tells you.

“I didn’t say anything.” You protest and look back at the sight the school building provides, “Although, that's what? The third one this week?”

“Tch.” He joins you on the railing and doesn't say anything for a moment. “I tried coming here for a break, but they keep finding me.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, the struggle.”

The mocking tone makes him sigh, irritation coursing through his veins. You're one of the few girls that haven't had a crush on or haven't confessed to him. That he knows. And it's not like he takes pride in it, being one of the popular guys in school and having girls falling for him daily. Sure, it was fun in the first year of high school, but now, in his last, he just wants to focus on graduating and getting into a nice university, moving on with life.

Then, there's you. The mysterious girl he met on the roof of the school's building that he knows nothing about. All he knows about you is that you're in the same class as Hinata’s and he'll be dead before he asks him about you. For now, he'll just hang out silently with you and bask on the unspoken agreement that you two have.

“Why don't you give one of them a chance?” You break the silence and Tsukishima exhales sharply as he remembers Yamaguchi saying these same words to him once. He ducks his head for a moment, then pushes himself off the railing.

“Don't you have better things to do?” He asks, looking straight into your eyes.

“Nope,” You smirk at him, knowing you're getting on his nerves. A laugh escapes your lips as he clicks his tongue. He has pretty eyes, though.

“What about you?” He asks, leaning his forearms on the railing again, “Surely there must be someone—”

It's your turn to click your tongue, irritated. The subject annoys you too much, especially when the creepy boys from your club come to mind every time, and Tsukishima falls silent, knowing it's dangerous territory. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence again, once more enjoying what you came in search of: peace of mind.

Except your mind is not at peace at all. You barely know this kid, just that he's on the masculine volleyball team and that they went to the nationals once and it was a pretty big deal at the time. And that he's tall. And handsome. And that pretty much all girls in school fall for him because of all that. You're not so sure why so many girls tend to confess to him anyway. Tsukishima is a bit rude and harsh. At least he was when you met him. At first, it made you back away from him as far as possible. How could a girl even want to be his girlfriend?

And then a thought hits you.

“You know...” You pick at your nails, eyes down to the other students far away from you, “I could pretend to be your girlfriend to keep those girls away...”

Tsukishima's eyes bore to you, but you're still looking down. At first, he thinks you're joking, but the look on your face tells him you're serious about it. Still, he can't help but be sarcastic about it because, well, that's just who he is.

“You'd do that for me.” The cynicism is clear on his voice, and you end up rolling your eyes, but smile as you look back at him, shrugging.

“You'd keep the creeps away.”

This, he wasn't expecting. He tries to hide the surprise on his face but fails to. Then, he falls into his usual Tsukishima face and scoffs, pushing himself out of the rail and turning his back to walk away. You sigh deeply and lean your chin on your forearms, enjoying the last minutes of your lunch break, knowing the bell will ring soon and you'll have to get back to your classroom.

…

It's not until two days later that you hear from Tsukishima again. You're doing some homework in advance on your break, since it’s pouring outside and you can't go to the roof today, when one of your classmates calls your name and tells you he's looking for you. The hallway is packed with people, and it annoys him that his earphones are out of battery so he can't listen to music like he always does, so when you meet him outside your classroom the frown between his brows is almost popping up a vein, you're sure of it.

“What's up?” You say, pretending not to notice the large vein on his forehead. Oh, he's pissed at something and you're dying to see it.

“C'mon,” he simply says and turns his back. When you don't follow, confused at his command, he sighs sharply and pulls you by the wrist. You try to protest, but you're very aware everyone is watching as he pulls you through the hallway towards a more private place. When he's sure no one is around, Tsukishima stops by the stairs between the first and second floors, where Hinata swore to him he once saw a ghost there.

“Damn, what happened?” You ask, frowning at the strong grip on your wrist.

“I'll do it.”

You pause, looking way up at his height that towers you. It should intimidate you, it should make you back away, especially after you saw the way he treats people... but you don't.

“Do what?”

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Are you really gonna make him say it? Fine, so be it. What's a little pride anyway? He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes.

“I'll pretend to be your boyfriend... to keep the creeps away.”

“Oh. That.” You had forgotten about it already. So, he wants in, then? “O-okay.”

“Okay.” He parrots and his eyes travel through your shoulder to your arm and notes how he's still gripping your wrist like there's no tomorrow. Tsukishima quickly lets go of you like you have the plague, then clears his throat, a faint shade of red painting his cheekbones, “S-so, how do we do this?”

You shrug, “We spend time together on breaks, go home holding hands, all that couple stuff, you know.”

On the outside, your behavior is nonchalant, but your hands are shaking with nervousness. You’re about to fake an entire relationship with a guy you barely know.

“Right.” Tsukishima nods, “I have club activities until six, though.”

“Me too. You can wait for me outside gymnasium five, the one with the pool. Just make sure you're seen.”

A groan bubbles up in his throat, but he swallows it down. Isn't being seen the main objective here? So, he just nods and exhales softly as he closes his eyes.

“Don't worry,” you say, realizing he looks worried about your plan, “I won't make you kiss me or anything... unless you want me to.”

Tsukishima opens his eyes and blushes furiously, a frown growing between his brows. You let a laugh escape your lips, genuinely having fun with his reaction. That until someone starts descending the stairs, interrupting their moment. It's the girl from that day on the roof, the one that handed the letter over to Tsukishima when you were there. She looks at him and then looks at you, a small frown between her eyebrows. For a moment, you think she's going to say something, but she just walks past you both and quickly makes her way to the first floor. When you look back at him, his skin is bright red, and his eyes are everywhere but on you.

“Well, you gotta do better than that if you want to convince people we're together.” You actually smile at the view.

He just huffs and walks away from you.

…

The rain has stopped by the time you're done with your club activities. You make sure to leap out of the pool and power walk to the dressing rooms.

“No running around the pool!” Your professor says and you apologize, but don't stop, ripping the goggles and swimming cap from your head.

“Someone's in a hurry today!” You hear a remark, probably from one the first years, and ignore them as you quickly enter the dressing room and start undressing.

You don't even bother to wash off the chlorine from your hair, just a quick douche and you're already putting your uniform on again. Almost knocking a second year down, you bust out of the dressing room, making your way outside.

No sight of Tsukishima.

All that work for nothing. You sigh, deciding to wait a couple of minutes, but he doesn't show up. Did he change his mind? He would've let you know if that was the case, right?

As you start walking around the school to make your way to the volleyball gymnasium, you feel embarrassed to be that excited to see him. Maybe you should’ve washed your hair, maybe it was stupid to rush like that.

Trapped in your own thoughts, you don’t see the tall presence in front of you as you turn a corner to reach the gymnasium. The strong body collides with you, and it sends you back, your feet tripping on each other making you almost fall on your ass.

His hands reach for you, holding you in place.

Tsukishima’s eyes look down at you, honey colored pupils staring at you confused. For a second you think your heart skips a beat with the way he holds your upper arms, the warmth of his hands radiating to your own skin.

“I thought you said to be outside gymnasium five,” he says, pulling you back from your thoughts.

“Y-you didn’t show up.” You manage to say.

He sighs, letting go of you. “Sorry. Coach held us a bit back there.”

Tsukishima pulls his phone out of his bag and only then you notice he’s wearing his club’s uniform. He didn’t have time to change and was going to see you right away.

“Oh.” You say, watching the way his eyes scan whatever is on his phone. He looks at you and you feel heat on your cheeks, looking away. In the distance, a boy with brown hair and a blonde girl are looking puzzled at the both of you. You take a deep breath and look back at him, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. “It’s okay! Meeting here is better anyway.”

Tsukishima then remembers he didn’t give an explanation to his teammates on why he wasn’t going to change, saying he just needed to be somewhere else. His ears turn pink when he realizes they’re still lingering outside the door and witnessing this interaction.

“Walk me home?” You smile at him.

He just nods. Walking you home is probably the best way to be seen together. Side eyeing Yamaguchi and Yachi, he walks by your side as you guide him towards the exit.

He'd have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.

…

“Are you and Tsukishima from class four together?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the classroom the next day. Your friend grabs your shoulders and looks right into your eyes.

“U-uh…” you clutch your bag and swallow hard, thinking of what to say, “Yeah, we’re–“ you swallow hard again, “We’re together.”

Her eyes widens and she opens her mouth, but you interrupt whatever she is about to say.

“Don’t scream.” You manage to get free from her grip.

“Wait, but Yuuki from class two confessed to him yesterday! She said he said he wasn’t interested.” She follows you to your seat.

“Oh, really?” you say as you sit down, watching as she pulls a chair to sit beside you.

“And Maki saw you two in the hallway at lunch and started crying, ‘cause she also confessed to him this week.” You think back to the moment a familiar girl ran into you two by the stairs. You kinda feel bad for making a girl cry, but you’re sure Tsukishima will like that the girls already fell for your fake relationship. When you don’t say anything, your friend keeps talking, “Maki said he seemed interested in her, though.”

“Oh, trust me, he wasn’t.” You laugh, remembering how he immediately threw her love letter in the trashcan when she left.

“What?”

“What?” You look back at her.

“You’re acting so weird…” She frowns at you.

Swallowing, you shrug, “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Luckily, the bell rings and you silently thank time for being so on point. Your friend goes back to her seat, and you sigh relieved.

Who would’ve known lying would be so hard?

…

“So, is it true?” Yamaguchi asks as he approaches the net to block a spike from the other team.

Coach made them split into groups of three to play against each other and Tsukishima was stuck with a freshman and Yamaguchi.

“What is?” He asks after jumping and blocking the spike successfully.

“That you’re with that girl from class one.”

He looks at Yamaguchi and understands why he’s been acting weird all day. Ever since he saw you together, he’s been acting as if he wants to say something.

Tsukishima says your name.

“Yeah,” he then says, “It’s true.”

He doesn’t see it, but he knows Yamaguchi is smiling at him, that hopeful, shit eating grin he hates so much.

“I knew someday–“

“Save it.” Tsukishima interrupts him.

“Well, I was right, wasn’t I?”

Yamaguchi had been saying for weeks that the girl who sits on the roof during lunch time and Tsukishima would end up together someday. Something to do with spending too much time with her, ‘specially if she hasn’t confessed’ like he said. Yamaguchi was actually so wrong about it, but he let him have it by grunting a response.

He felt bad enough lying to his best friend already.

“So who confessed first?”

…

“He did, obviously,” you answer your friend’s question.

A day later, in P.E., she asked if it was you who confessed to him. She couldn’t let go of your – fake – relationship with Tsukishima, asking you questions about him and how it happened, if you both had kissed and went out on dates already.

It usually wouldn’t bother you, since you don’t really like Tsukishima that way, but the number of questions she’s asking makes you think she’s the one who has a crush on him. It makes you feel weird on the inside, as if something is wrong.

“You must’ve really impressed him,” she says as you both complete another lap around the soccer field, “I heard he’s…”

“He’s what?” you ask as she trails away. You both come to a stop, panting and sweating and you wait for her response, but she just shrugs.

“What?” You insist.

“Just… that he’s cold towards girls.”

You stare at her. It’s not like you’re offended by her statement, she’s actually right. You’ve never seen Tsukishima acting differently with any other girl, or boy, or anyone. It’s just the way he is. But why would that be a problem? You’re not really together.

…

“Rumors sure do fly fast.” You mumble as you walk down the street, Tsukishima by your side. He hums an answer, “Have any girls bothered you yet?”

“No, but it's only been a week.”

A chuckle leaves your lips. Crossed arms, you shiver as a cold breeze rushes past you.

“Any creeps bother you?”

You side eye him, smirking, “It's only been a week.”

The silence that follows walks on the line between comfortable and awkward. You want to say more, have a conversation with him, but it seems Tsukishima was comfortable with the silence between you two. And it's not like you have to be friends with him for this plan to work.

It's only been a week, but you've learned that Tsukishima is a quiet, reserved guy. Always listening to music, always in his own world. You don’t want to force him much.

Another cold breeze rushes past you and the shivers on your skin make you tremble. A sign the cold weather is about to come. Tightening the grip on yourself, you take a deep breath, trying to control the involuntary shivers, until you feel something warm around your shoulders.

His school club jacket.

You pause your steps to look at him, now sporting just his shirt and shorts. It takes him a second to realize you've stopped, so he looks back at you and raises a brow. The corners of your mouth pull into an amused smile, and he rolls his eyes at you, resuming his walk.

“We're supposed to be pretending, aren't we?” he says, shrugging. The smile on your face grows bigger, but you don't mention that no one from school is around, “Also, you're gonna get sick with your wet hair.”

You want to thank him and say you won't, but you're too afraid it'll scare him off. For now, you just bask in the warmth of his jacket as he walks you home.

…

Two weeks later, you don't show up at school for three days. On the fourth day, a shy girl approached Tsukishima saying she was the class rep for class one and asked if he could take you some homework you missed. He tried saying he had practice after school, but she insisted, since he was her boyfriend.

He thought about just showing up at your house after practice, but his guts told him he should check on you.

You live on the way to his house anyway, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt. At the end of the day, he tells Yamaguchi he’s going to skip practice, and, to his surprise, he just smiles at him, giving a knowing look.

“What?” Tsukki stares at his best friend.

Yamaguchi just shrugs, “Nothing.”

Tsukishima suspected something was on his mind, but he said nothing as he kept that look on his face.

The walk to your place is pleasant and quiet, just the way he likes it. He missed being able to be with his own thoughts, listening to his favorite band and just... being alone. But at the same time, walking by himself feels strange now. In the past week, he’s grown so accustomed to your presence that, when you missed classes, he...

He missed you.

Halting his steps at the realization, he notices your house at the top of the small hill. His heart does something that he doesn’t recognize. A feeling deep inside bothers him to the point he thinks it’s just a stomachache.

He also didn’t stop to think about how to introduce himself to your parents. The feeling only gets worse as he approaches your front door and rings the doorbell, expecting an adult to come to get him.

‘Just hand them the homework and leave’, he thinks to himself as he hears footsteps approaching and the door being unlocked.

To his surprise, it’s you who opens the door.

Pink colors his cheekbones as he notices you’re in your pajamas: sweatpants and a tank top that reveals much more than what his imagination can go. Your hair is a little messy and your face... You look so sleepy that he feels his heart skip a beat.

“Tsukki?” You say with a rough voice, bringing him back to reality, “What- what happened?”

“I-I...” He stutters and then clears his throat, “I brought your homework...”

Tsukishima digs through his backpack to get the stack of papers and hand it to you.

“Homework?” You say, frowning, “Isn’t that the class rep’s job?”

“Yeah, but she gave it to me instead.”

You scoff, taking the papers from him, which causes a coughing fit. At this moment the wind passes through you and you shiver.

“Get inside,” Tsukki tells you, “you’ll get worse.”

“Well, come in then.”

You give him space to walk inside your home. He does without thinking much nor hesitating. It’s like he’s always been here, like entering his best friend’s house.

“Are you alone?” he asks, taking in the living room. A blanket lays on the couch and the TV is paused on some movie you were watching.

“Yeah, my mom is working.”

You guide him to the living room, bunching up the blanket on a corner and giving him space to sit.

“And your dad?” he asks, carefully.

“On a work trip.”

“Oh.”

The silence that follows is definitely awkward enough for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable. He’s never been in a situation like this, alone with a girl in her house. It makes him nervous. Especially because it’s you.

“Would you like some tea?” Your offer comes right before another cough fit, followed by a sneeze.

Tsukishima sighs and reaches for the bunched up blanket beside you — trying to ignore how close you are —, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Told you you’d get sick.” He mumbles, pulling the blanket so it gets right around you.

“Sorry.”

“Tch- don’t be sorry. I’ll make some tea.”

He stands up and goes toward the open kitchen, leaving you staring at his back as he walks away. Tsukki acts like he’s been at your place a million times: fills the electric kettle, looks for the tea in the cabinets and takes some honey from the counter. It’s only natural, he wants you to feel better.

And here you are, sick as a street dog, watching his movements with attention. His shirt rises when he stretches to reach the tea at the top cabinet – after you tell him where it is – and you see some hair on his lower abdomen. Your face immediately burns, but you can’t look away. You can’t help but stare. And you hate to admit it, but you like what you see.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks, and you snap to reality.

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” You clear your throat and finally look away.

Tsukishima pours one cup for you and one for him. You watch his hands as he settles down on the couch again, his slender fingers hugging the ceramic of the mug as he hands it to you. When you take it, his skin brushes against yours gently. You feel your skin heating up again.

If he notices, he says nothing. You take a sip from the tea and almost burn your tongue at the temperature, but your eyes are fixated on his hands. The protuberant veins on his pale skin and the size of his palms, his fingers. One of them catches your attention, his pinky finger is different from the others.

“What?” his voice brings you back to reality and you look at him to find him staring back.

You don't know why you decide to go with the truth.

“Your pinky.”

He gives you a puzzled look. Clearing your throat, you speak louder.

“Your right pinky. It's different.”

Tsukishima raises his hand to show you his crooked finger. “Oh. I broke it in the finals for the Spring tournament in my first year. They just taped it together and it never healed right.”

“Oh...” without thinking much, you reach for his hand, your finger pads rubbing against the curve of his pinky. The warmth from his skin radiates to yours and you like the sensation of his hands on yours.

“I thought the whole school was there...” He mumbles and you let go of his hand. The warmth for your tea isn't sufficient to warm the lack of his touch.

“If it was in Spring, I wasn't.” You sigh, “Swimming trials start in April. I was trying to get into the Summer swimming competition.”

“Did you get in?”

“No,” you say with a smile, “but I watched the Nationals.”

“Oh?” His eyes light up a little and you think it's adorable.

“Yeah, on the TV.” You see him visibly deflate. You don't think he knows he's doing that, but you don't mention it anyway, “It was pretty exciting. You guys deserved it.”

Tsukishima looks at you as if he discovered a new star. It's not written on his face, but you can see it in his eyes, and you don’t know if it’s the fever or something else, but your chest constricts and your stomach churns. There’s a silence, tense seconds pass by.

“Can I ask you something?” Tsukki asked and you nodded, encouraging him to do it, “Who are the creeps you always talk about?”

Your smile fades away and your eyes tear the gaze from his. Sighing, you consider giving an evasive answer or just lying, but you decide to tell him the truth.

“Just some guys from the boys swimming team. Sometimes they watch our practice and make comments about me.”

“What kind of comments?” He breathes, trying to control his anger. Tsukki didn’t want you to realize he felt protective of you, but with his flushed face and inflated nostrils, he couldn’t hide much.

“Just some nasty comments about my body.”

A tense pause hangs heavily between you both. Tsukishima is thinking of all the ways he can beat up those creeps. It's weird that he feels so protective of you, you’re not really his girlfriend, but hearing you talk about this and not doing anything about it feels wrong.

“It’s not just me, though.” you continue, “It’s all the girls.”

“Your coach doesn’t say anything?”

“We tried to tell her once, and she did talk to their coach, but it only made the insults worse...”

He says your name, making you look at him. You see something in his eyes, something you’ve never seen before.

“If you want, I can—”

“No, it’s fine, I—”

“Hey.” Tsukishima grabs your shoulders, with the intention of forcing you to look at him and listen. His touch burns on your skin, and you grow hot as his amber eyes stare intensely into yours, “This is why we’re doing this, right? You said it yourself, I'd keep the creeps away.”

You pause for a second wondering why he’s suddenly acting like this. “Y-yeah, but you don’t have to do anything... I... I thought that if they saw I had a boyfriend, they would stop, but...”

“They didn’t.” He finishes your sentence. You just shake your head, looking away.

Tsukishima suddenly feels the urge to kiss you, to make your pain go away. His eyes stare at your lips for a moment as he wonders if they’re as soft as they look. He wonders how they would feel against his own lips, against his skin, against—

You look back at him, eyes meeting his, a curious expression on your face, as if you know what he’s thinking about. Then, he suddenly stands up from the couch, startling you.

“I-I should go,” he says, clearing his throat, “but once you feel better and you go back to school, I’ll deal with the creeps.”

You stand up from your spot as well, meeting his eyes, “Tsukki, I—”

“It’s not up for discussion.” His voice sounds lower, darker even. It lights a fire in you that you don’t recognize. “Text me if you need anything.”

With that, he leaves your house, leaving you to feel confused and puzzled.

…

The following week, you finally feel better enough to go back to school. The flu has gotten better, but you’re still not able to swim – medical orders – until you feel one hundred percent well. So after classes, you just hang out at the library until Tsukishima is done with practice. You miss swimming, but the peace and quiet of the library is a nice break from your hectic days. Or at least it was. As soon as they entered the place, you knew you were going to have a hard time.

Their comments about your swimming abilities, your body, your hair and even your – fake – relationship with Tsukishima, come to your mind and you quickly slip out of the place before they can notice you. You hate that they have such an effect on you like that, you want to admit you don't care, but you do. Of course you do, when they're calling you names and laughing at everything you do.

Walking around the school, you find yourself at the volleyball gymnasium, staring at the open door. Inside, Tsukki and his friends are doing serving and receiving exercises, and, before you can think too much about it, you cross the entry, passing through the protective net used to keep the balls from escaping.

A ball flies over your head and hits the wall beside you, making you gasp and jump in your place. Everyone looks at you. Swallowing, you quickly remove your shoes and offer them a small bow before running to the bleachers.

Tsukki looks at you with a puzzled face, and then jumps at the sound of the coach barking some orders. The rest of practice goes like it usually does, except there's a tiny voice inside his head telling him that you're watching. Deep down, he feels like he has to practice harder, do better, just because you're watching. By the end of the practice, he's sweating, overheating and catching his breath more than usual.

He avoided looking at the bleachers during practice, but now, when he takes a peek, he catches you staring at him. You quickly look away, heat creeping on your cheeks. He can't help but smile.

Days are getting dark sooner now, so when you leave the gymnasium to meet him, it's already dusk. The sky is a mixture of bright oranges and blues. You wait for him to get changed into his uniform as you watch the sun go away. A cold breeze rushes through you and you shiver, wishing you'd brought your uniform jacket instead of just a sweater.

A warm fabric falls on your shoulders, the familiar scent of fabric softener and Omnigel immediately invading your nostrils. Tsukishima's large hand rests on the top of your head, catching you by surprise. There's no one around to show off your fake relationship, so the affectionate gesture confuses you.

“Hey,” you say, forcing a smile.

“What's wrong?” He asks, noticing your glassy eyes.

“Nothing,” you respond too quickly.

He stares at you, amber eyes studying you with suspicion, “You have a weird look on your face.”

“It's just my face.”

Tsukki says your name, making you sigh and close your eyes. How is he able to read you so easily like this?

“Was it the creeps?” He asks, and you cringe, “What did they do?”

When you look at Tsukishima, you notice the anger and his eyes. Heat creeps on your cheeks at the thought of him protecting you.

“N-nothing.” You stutter, “I was at the library and they came in… They didn't even see me though!” You quickly add, “I just– I just didn't want to face them…”

He keeps quiet for a moment until he takes your hand in a bold move.

“Tomorrow we're going to face them,” He says matter-of-factly, dragging you away from the gymnasium.

“Tsu–”

“This is why we're doing this.” He interrupts you, “I don't care what you think they're gonna say, we're gonna show you're mine now.”

As quick as the words leave his mouth, he freezes, eyes wide, cheeks red in embarrassment. He doesn't look at you, as he stops walking, hand squeezing yours harder.

“Kei…” you say, stomach doing somersaults, breath quickening.

“Shut up.” He pulls you away, walking faster.

The rest of the walk home is spent in silence.

…

Tsukishima couldn't remember the last time he rode a bike to school, but here he is at your doorstep, hands on the handlebars tightening their grip. He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him after what he said last night, but when he knocked on your door, the look on your face changed from surprised to amused. You asked for a minute to finish getting ready and left him waiting outside.

The tension between you two is palpable, as you walk side by side to school.

When you walk through the school grounds hand in hand, Tsukishima avoids eye contact, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

The morning is a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tsukishima's determination to confront the creeps is evident, and you find yourself caught in the whirlwind of his protectiveness. The rumors about your relationship spread like wildfire, everyone knew you were together, but seeing you holding hands just adds an extra layer of complexity to the situation.

He rests a hand on your head when you reach your classroom, “See you later.”

Nodding, you feel your cheeks burning as you enter the classroom. All eyes are on you when you take a seat. Your friends tease you all morning.

This fake relationship certainly took an unexpected turn.

…

“You ready?” Tsukki asks you, taking your hand again. Lunch break was cut short when he approached you. Nodding, you swallow hard, confused by the swirl of emotions that hit you.

As you approach the library, you notice the creeps already there, smirking and whispering among themselves. Tsukishima tightens his grip on your hand, a silent reassurance that he's by your side. With a confident stride, you both enter the library, facing the unwelcome attention head-on.

The creeps pause their conversation, their eyes widening at the unexpected sight of you two together. You can sense the shift in the atmosphere as Tsukishima directs a stern gaze towards them. Your heart races, unsure of how this confrontation will unfold.

Unexpectedly, Tsukishima speaks up, his voice cutting through the library's silence. "Enough with the comments and disrespect. Keep your opinions to yourselves. She's not interested, and we're not tolerating any more of your nonsense."

The creeps, taken aback by Tsukishima's assertiveness, exchange uneasy glances. You stand there, seeing a side of him you hadn't seen before. As the creeps mumble half-hearted apologies and disperse, Tsukishima's grip on your hand relaxes. He looks at you, his amber eyes softening. "Let's go," he says, leading you out of the library.

You're not sure they'll stop their nasty comments towards you, but for now, an easy smile spreads on your lips and warmth blooms inside you.

…

The following days bring a surprising calm to your interactions with Tsukishima. The library incident becomes a turning point, and the creeps keep their distance. As weeks pass, your relationship with him turns into something more than a friendship and more profound. The protective facade turns into genuine concern, and you find solace in his company. The popular, mysterious boy on the rooftop becomes a constant presence in your life, with texts and late night calls.

The school year progresses, the fake relationship becomes less about keeping up appearances and more about what you feel inside. The rooftop meetings turn into genuine conversations, and the agreement transforms into a shared understanding. Like something more than a friendship, but less than a romantic relationship.

As graduation approaches, you can't help the bittersweet feeling that grows inside you. Uncertainty about your future makes its way to your mind in the form of anxiety and dreams about Tsukishima ending things with you. It makes you feel stupid, there's nothing there to end.

You can't deny there are some feelings for him inside you.

“I got in.” He interrupts your thoughts, making you look up from him from your egg sandwich. It's a breezy February afternoon, and you're on lunch break, back on the rooftop. He's leaning on the railway and you're sitting on the bench as usual. “Sendai University.”

The sandwich is soon forgotten as you get up and wrap your arms around his shoulders, smiling widely at him. “Congratulations!” You mumble on his neck, your soft lips touching the skin of his neck.

Tsukki takes half a second to hug you back. In the past few weeks, physical contact has become more common between. Although he's still not used to it, he welcomes you gladly as the warmth of your body radiates to him.

“Seems like we're going to the same university,” he says with a smirk. Looking into his eyes, you remember, just last week telling him you've been accepted at Sendai University as well.

“Yeah…” you breathe, fully aware that your lips are centimeters apart.

He would've kissed you. You swear, if it wasn't for the bell ringing just in time for you to pull away and him clear his throat. A blush stained his cheekbones pink as you smiled to yourself. Your story with him isn't over yet.

…

The day before graduation is filled with tears and laughter. You say goodbye to your friends you know you won't see until tomorrow, swim at the gymnasium pool for the last time and wait for Tsukishima by the volleyball gymnasium, sipping strawberry milk you bought from the vending machine.

You don't turn around when you hear him and his friends leaving the gymnasium, or when you hear one of them point you out. You don't turn around when you hear his footsteps approaching you. When he stands in front of you, your eyes meet his. He's smirking, sweat glistening on his skin.

You don't care.

The strawberry milk box falls on the ground as his lips press against yours.

His skin is soft as you wrap your arms around his sweaty neck. Gasping when his tongue brushes against yours in a messy kiss, you pull him closer.

Kissing Tsukishima is even better than you imagined. He’s warm and comforting, and he seems to know what he’s doing. For once, he doesn’t care about the people around, being seen with you became a second nature to him, but it doesn’t make him uncomfortable anymore.

It never will again.

#gabiwrites.txt #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tsukki x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei

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facioleeknow · 4 months ago

Text

The art of pleasure ch.7

Docility ° Seungmin

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, Smut 18+ ONLY wc:2.1k

Warnings: fraternity skz, experienced seungmin, inexperienced reader, public sex, talk of kinks, spitting, rough sex, pussy slaps, degradation (slightly), name calling, spitting, sort of public nudity, talks of safe word, dom! minnie, titty sucking, squirting

A/N: sorry for the delay guys, I hope you like this ;)

Turns out Felix's reward was pretty simple. After a damn good wipe down, that you both needed, you had found yourself in his bed, dress discarded. Your naked bodies pressed against each other and Felix's plush lips wrapped around your nipple, suckling to his heart's desire. The constant ministrations of his tongue spread a light pleasurable buzz throughout your body, but not strong enough to get you horny again. You were too spent for that, domming for the first time had taken a toll on you but you liked it, you would do it again.

“Hey, I heard the noises stop, are you done?” Christopher bursted through the door, making you jump in place. Felix whined at the movement but a small sweet ‘shh’ from you settled him back into his routine.

“You are unbelievable, Mr Bang,” you whispered with a scoff and motioned for him to stay quiet, you didn't want to disturb Felix after all.

“What? My best friend dommed for the first time and I wanted to know if she enjoyed it or not. Felix seems pretty out of it so I'd say you did a good job,” Chan craned his neck to look at the boy in your arms but you didn't miss his eyes lingering on your bare tits for more than a few seconds.

“Hyung,” Felix whined again, voice muffled.

“It's okay baby, don't worry about him,” you whispered with the sweetest voice you could muster, your lips pressed to his forehead. The sunshine boy sighed against you, his eyelids slowly drooping.

“Best friend? Ouch Chris, you saw me half naked, I thought we had something,” you half joked while you stroked the blonde's hair, the wispy locks tickled your chest.

“We could,” Chris fixed you on the spot with an intense gaze, you could feel your body get hotter and hotter until you had to look away, afraid you might explode. The silence in the room was thick.

“You need to talk to Seungmin, he wanted to clear up some things. I'll put his number in your phone and then leave you to rest.” Without saying anything, you turned your back to him and tried to focus your attention on Felix. His eyes were closed, his mouth still on your nipple and a bit of drool had escaped past his lips and on the curve of your breast. You didn't mind, it was cute. His breath was slow and rhythmic, and not long after your own eyes were starting to close.

When you woke up you were alone in bed, Felix had taken his usual spot at his gaming chair.

“Leaving me alone in bed after the moment we shared? Wow that's cold of you, Felix,” you joked. The chair spun quickly and the boy looked at you with big brown eyes.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to get in a quick match before you woke up.”

“Y/N? I thought it was Miss to you,�� you giggled at his face, jaw slacked and cheeks on fire, “ I'm just joking, keep playing baby, don't worry about it.”

Your head hit the pillow again, Felix's bed was insanely comfortable and as much as you wanted to fall asleep again you should've texted Seungmin already.

You:

Hey Seungmin, it's Y/N, Chris said you wanted to talk to me

Seungmin:

That's right, do you want to meet at the library near your dorm tomorrow at 9 pm?

I know it's late but I prefer to do this in a public place but I still don't want any people listening to us

You:

It works for me I'll see you tomorrow <3

Butterflies swarmed your stomach in excitement, you couldn't wait.

The following day, as soon as you stepped foot in the library, you could see him. You hated that particular establishment, it was bleak and cold and the chairs were uncomfortable, but with Seungmin sitting at the table at your right the room looked different; warm and soft and suddenly you wanted to study there all the time. His boyfriend look was no joke.

Seungmin looked up and you hastily moved to greet him, fortunately he didn't seem to have seen you ogling.

“Hey,” he smiled and your heart skipped a beat, his hand briefly squeezed yours, “sit down.”

You had never obeyed a man so fast in your entire life, he seemed to notice that.

“Did hyung tell you what we are going to do?” his voice was still soft but now extremely serious and you were starting to get a bit nervous.

“He only wrote ‘subbing’ on the list.”

“Yes, that's right. I asked you to come here to discuss some things we may try together,” he started looking inside his bag, “I made a list.”

“I have never done anything like this so I don't know how much I can answer.”

“That's okay just tell me if the idea seems nice to you and you want to try, if you don't like it while we do it then you say the safe word and we stop immediately.”

“Okay.”

His smile was reassuring, you had never seen him smile like that but you wouldn't mind seeing it again.

“Okay so what do you want our safe word to be?”

“Puppy,” you didn't even have to think about it, you had heard the guys call him that so many times that it came natural to you.

“Noted. Now I'm gonna list a couple of kinks I want to try and you can decide if you want to try them as well. Just tell me yes or no.”

“Got it.”

“Dirty talk, praise and degradation.”

“Yes.”

“Humiliation.”

“No.”

“Public intercourse.”

“Yes.”

“Slapping and spanking.”

“Yes.”

“Spitting.”

“Yes.”

“Rough intercourse.”

“Yes.”

“Partial public nudity.”

“Yes.”

“Edging.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that's it, thank you for coming tonight.”

“It's fine,” you could barely talk, all this talking about kinks and sex had formed a damn slip and slide between your legs.

Despite all of your wishes, Seungmin that night, only walked you to your dorm room and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek with a promise to see you on the weekend. He wanted to take you to a karaoke room he liked and had requested you wear a skirt.

The weekend came way too quickly for your liking, you were ready and you knew that but this was truly something new and you were a bit nervous. Your sweaty palms smoothed down your skirt for the thousandth time. Earlier Seungmin had sent you a text that had made your heart and your vagine beat wildly.

Seungmin:

We're gonna start as soon as I see you, I'm gonna be different than usual, is that alright?

You:

That's okay. Should I call you daddy? Or sir?

Seungmin:

Minnie is fine, leave daddy for Chan hyung.

Wait for me outside if you can :)

Seungmin’s car was gorgeous but he was even more magnificent, you couldn't believe somebody with such an angel face had listen all those nasty kinks.

“Hey, Minnie,” you murmured when you entered the car. He didn't answer, instead his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

“Are you gonna do what I ask like a good girl?” You nodded vigorously, your whole body felt on fire.

“Take your panties off then, and give them to me.”

In a flash, you had scrambled to flip up your skirt and then shove your panties down. Seungmin laughed meanly at your eagerness which made your pussy pulse happily. The boy behind the wheel grabbed the panties and without another word he stuffed them inside his pocket.

The journey to the karaoke room was torturous, your thighs were pressed firmly to get some release but you didn't want to move because Seungmin had not given you permission to do so.

The establishment in itself was beautiful, the owner was kind and escorted you to your room while chatting happily. The private room was spacious and modern, the dimmed and colored lights created a cool ambience.

As soon as your ass was on the soft cushion of the sofa, Seungmin was on you, his big hands digged into the plush of your thighs.

“I'm gonna touch you and I don't wanna hear you make any noise, I wanna sing. Got it?”

“Yes Minnie.”

His fingers came in contact with your pussy roughly, his hand traveled down to your entrance to swipe around your wetness.

“Wet already? Are you a whore?”

“N-no,” keeping your cool while his hand kept busy between your legs was one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“I think you are.” With that he turned around and busied himself with the tablet; when a tune started to play and his angelic voice sounded in the room, you silently sighed, you could at least distract yourself a bit from the pleasure like that.

Your hopes soon crumbled when his fingers passed from caressing and circling all over your pussy to roughly rubbing your clit. The only thing you could hear in the room was him and your eyes were glued on his magnificent figure, he seemed not a bit affected by what was going on between your legs and you soon found out you were into it, even a bit too much. Your legs started trembling, the pleasure started to build up quickly, your clit was extremely sensitive and Seungmin knew exactly what he was doing. Your heavy breath resounded in the whole room but Seungmin seemed to not mind.

When your hips started bucking into his hand and your back arched off the couch, he pulled his hand away, he clearly did not want you to cum so quickly.

He played a second song and the onslaught on your poor sensitive and swollen clit began again. But just how it began it ended, like before.

Seungmin kept teasing you and stimulating you for two more songs, at the fifth, you were gone with pleasure and ready to cry if you didn't cum any second. Your body felt heavy and boneless, his fingers felt too good. But you stayed quiet, you had to stay quiet, you wanted to be a good girl for him. Your date had other plans, you had behaved way too well for his liking. Just when the song was nearing his finish and your orgasm was approaching, Seungmin's fingers roughly pinched your little bundle of nerves.

“Minnie,” you squeaked, with wide eyes. His hand lifted and then roughly came back down. Slap. It stinged but the pain felt so good you could've cum from that alone.

“I told you to stay quiet,” he scoffed, the tablet flew to the other side of the couch and he roughly grabbed your wrist.

“On your knees.”

Your poor wobbly knees hit the ground hard, but you hastily moved to be in front of him.

“Open your mouth.” Seungmin's right hand enveloped your jaw and squeezed effectively squishing your cheeks and forcing you to open up.

“Swallow and then show me.” A thick wad of spit fell into your mouth after that and you moaned, you wanted more but you still closed your mouth and swallowed. When you open up again, Seungmin wasted no time in turning you around and pushing your head down on the coffee table in front of you so your pussy was glued to his crotch. The sound of his belt unbuckling, made your squirm on top of the cool glass. You wanted to see him.

“You better not move or I'll edge you for a week.” Your skirt got quickly flipped up and you felt his head push against your entrance.

Your lover sheathed himself fully inside you and another song started to play, a love song. Fitting. Without giving you time to adjust he started a brutal pace, not even Han had pounded you this hard. The sound of your skin slapping and the squelch in your pussy resounded in the room, along with your desperate moans and pleas and your date's delicate grunts.

Seungmin's hand circled your hips and pressed against your clit. He resumed his brutal rubbing from before, your orgasm was approaching dangerously quickly.

“You need to cum, I won't be able to last. This pussy is so slutty, it's sucking me in,” he paired his words with sharp, decise thrusts and you felt the coil in your belly snap. Clear liquid shot out of you and doused Seungmin's crotch. You had never cummed that hard in your entire life.

Seungmin quickly pulled out of you and stripped his cock above your ass, thick white ropes of cum cascaded on your hot skin in intricate patterns.

The music had stopped, the only thing heard in the room were both of your heavy breaths.

“I've never made anybody squirt, if I take you out on another date, would you let me do it again?”

@kflixnet

#straykidsland #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #felix #felix x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader

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phyrestartr · 9 months ago

Text

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.1)

W/C: 3.5k #full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, soz if anything is clunky asdkjf; i can only reread the same fic so many times for editing sadge

A/N: Decided to separate this into parts since I'm dying to post some of it lol I've held it in a chokehold in the shadows of my WIPs for too long, some of it has to come out before I explode o(--( there is more to come!

tag: @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9

The scripture was incomplete, worn away by age.

…herein lays the God...imprisoned...by...Disgraced One…

Yet the society felt this, the coffin uncovered decades ago, could be an invaluable asset. The vessel was decrepit and ancient, yet still stood strong against the test of time and the wear of nature. Seal papers, no doubt left by a monk of sorts, covered the entirety of its surface, hiding away rotting wood and rusted bands of metal from modern sorcerer's curious eyes.

Few knew why the higher ups kept the vessel under lock and key. Fewer knew why they kept it at all; however, those few understood the importance of such a relic. They'd been the ones to seek it out, to steal it away before malicious forces took it for themselves, warping the supposed deity inside for their own, malevolent purpose, whatever that may be.

And with Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers being found one by one, they could not allow anyone to possess humanity's failsafe: you. A great being imprisoned by the devil.

“Anything?” Gojo trilled, patting Yuuji’s shoulders frantically as he stood behind him and beheld the wooden tub covered in sigils.

“Uh…” Yuuji tried to focus on Sukuna’s presence inside of him. He didn’t seem intrigued or frightened, nor did he seem too bothered with the idea of them trying to smite him down with a sealed god–he was, however, annoyed that Yuuji continued to poke and prod at him.

Piss off, runt.

“Yep. Nope. Sukuna doesn't care,” Yuuji sighed. “He's getting all pissy now that I'm bothering him, though.”

Gojo laughed and patted Yuuji's shoulders a few more times before all but twirling towards the bound box. “Well, that's a pretty good sign that he's not the one that did this, then! In that case,” he started, walking up to the seal papers keeping everything locked down, “let's pop ‘er open.”

Before Yuuji could even wonder if that was a good idea, the white-haired witch used an overzealous amount of cursed energy and disintegrated every scrap of seal paper.

Yuuji braced for impact. Surely something terrible like a bankai or a spirit bomb would send them flying once the coffin came undone. Surely they'd pay for this, for unleashing whatever godly spirit laid locked up for far too long, only to release it back into the modern age and–

“Huh. Weird.”

Yuuji cracked open an eye and saw the dull shine of tattered onyx fur, and his control slipped with a blitz of vertigo.

Markings flared across his skin as he stormed toward the coffin, heart howling with thoughts and memories crashing through a shared mind; a face he didn't know but knew so well bloomed at the forefront of it all, eyes framed in pointed scarlet, skin bathed in ancient, dappled sunlight.

They reached the edge of the coffin and gripped the edges, splintering the wood as they took in the sight; crimson and curse decay pooled around a figure, curled up and half-submerged. Several black, tattered tails spilled free from the tub, no longer crushed from the force of the lid sealing them inside, but they were bent awkwardly and matted with whatever tincture lay at the bottom.

Then there was the so-called god in the middle of it all–you. Still. Quiet. Curled up in a haori far too big for you. Eyes closed. Almost peaceful.

Confusion tore at Sukuna while nausea ripped through Yuuji; he couldn't bear to look at such a morose scene.

So, Sukuna pushed him aside.

[Heian Era]

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket.

You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails.

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful?

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him.

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him.

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing.

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces.

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud.

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

"They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated.

“They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.”

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature.

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him.

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make.

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you.

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape.

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

It took some time, but you managed to recover. It was an unnerving experience, with the way Uraume tended to you with sincerity. Perhaps it was genuinity born from their devotion to Ryoumen Sukuna, but you greedily soaked it in, filling your stomach with the care they offered you.

Sukuna didn't bother much with you, not that you really minded; you were much more content to be fed and forgotten than hunted down by the creature that supposedly took ownership of you without enforcing it. If he didn't cause harm or good, if he simply existed somewhere else and forgot you breathed the same air as him, you'd still be at peace.

But he was more intrigued than you gave him credit for.

“Ho? So this is where you scamper off to,” Sukuna hummed, leaning over you as you dozed in the nice little spot you'd made for yourself in the garden, right under the crimson cover of a maple tree. You jumped the slightest bit, your daydreams and sunbathing interrupted by the brute’s silhouette eclipsing the sun, but you settled again quickly. The beast of a man wasn't a cause for panic in your little world, after all.

“Does it displease you?” You inquired, fixing your hair and straightening out your robes.

Sukuna held onto an overhead branch of the tree as he looked down at you. “Pets are supposed to play in the yard, aren't they?” He smirked as you pursed your lips and flicked your tail before calming it with hasty pets. “What, you don't like being my pet?”

“I would not refer to myself as a pet,” you countered as the man sat down with you and leaned against the tree. The king's presence calmed you. With him, you knew you were invincible.

“Pft. Then pray tell what your damn role is around here.” One set of arms folded behind his head while the other set crossed over his chest. “Pets are freeloaders. Pretty sure that's exactly what you are.”

You huffed. “Freeloader. Tch. How rude.”

“Lookit that. You're copping an attitude now that you're fat and fed. Used to be so much more polite.”

“Fat and–I am not fat.” You headbutted his side lightly, something that would make more sense had you been in your fox form. You grinding your forehead against him suggested this was more of a human move, however. “I am perfectly normal now. I was brittle and nonexistent prior to now. This is a grand improvement.”

Sukuna scoffed a laugh and looked down at your head pressed up against his side. “Thanks to me,” he boasted.

“Yes,” you agreed. You held onto his haori and looked up at him, placid and intense. “It is thanks to you. I would not be here if not for your mercy and intervention.”

Sukuna raised a brow as he regarded you. “Hm. And what will you do to repay me?”

“My very presence grants you luck, good fortune and fertility.” You tilted your head. “I already repay you by being here.”

Tch. But the gardens and surrounding lands did look more lush and lively since your arrival, he couldn't deny that fact. But he was a king; he could always ask for more and expect to get it.

“What more?” He prodded.

Your tail flicked as you thought. “What would you ask of me?”

“Something you haven't given another,” Sukuna replied. Ugh, your flowery, poetry-y, bullshit speak was rubbing off on him.

You stared at him, gemstone eyes glinting with earthen hues and shards of gold in the yawning afternoon sun. The leaves bristled just perfectly, letting in dapples of citrus sunlight as if trying to make this moment something special, as if to burn your ethereal presence into history for all eternity. All this, just while you thought of what to give him. Perhaps a riddle is what you wanted. Perhaps purple prose suited your fancy. Perhaps it was something else.

You sat up, carefully raising yourself onto your knees before leaning up towards the hulking king. He turned his face to you in interest, feeling a sort of natural energy begin to pool around the both of you, reaching from the far depths of the earth and the wide stretch of the sky to converge on your existence as you framed his face with gentle hands, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It lasted only a second. But a second was long enough to catch the scent of petrichor and petals on your skin, to indulge in the heat of wildfires raging in your soul, to feel the blasphemy of you against him; then, you parted.

“For now,” you murmured, and Sukuna swore he saw your single tail fan out into nine, “I give you my divine favor, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

You wondered if your favor was enough. He'd been gone some time, off to accept a duel from the snotty shitheads Sukuna had received you from. Apparently, having two of the eldest boys murdered rubbed them the wrong way. Sukuna was glad for it, you knew–the man lived and breathed for a fight.

Of course, you stayed put. Uraume assured you'd be fine on your own, and Sukuna reminded his staff they'd all be eaten alive by the king himself if anything uncouth were to take place in his absence. It was more so that Sukuna didn't like the idea of idiots touching his stuff than it was the notion you were important to him, from your understanding.

Regardless, the time alone left you restless. That king made you invincible. Without him, you were nothing more than the scared kit locked away in darkness, never to emerge lest your stubbornness trick them. But things were different here. Everyday was filled with unknowns and uncertainties when the two you'd forged fragile bonds with fell absent.

So, you thought of how to repay Sukuna. Your divine favor would only do so much, after all–you didn't think a man like that really needed the extra luck, but he seemed more than intrigued by the manner of delivering the blessing; you remembered how he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, shielding you from the inferno burning out of control. He grumbled something low in his chest, just loud enough that you heard:

You better be here when I get back.

“Ah–” The thrill those catastrophic words gave you nearly led to stabbing yourself with the needle. You tutted and regained focus, continuing to carefully embroider the sleeves of one of Sukuna's many plain black haori.

You learned how to sew and embroider from watching an elder from that clan work her magic on old, tattered clothes. She never spoke to you nor regarded you, but she never turned you away the rare times you watched her fix garments; you thought it was beautiful–the art of turning something mundane into something meaningful.

Though you wondered if Ryoumen Sukuna, the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared man alive, had a desire for anything useless and meaningful.

The answer came quickly. You'd found yourself void of confidence when the monarch returned to his palace after (obviously) winning whatever duel he'd agreed to; you weren't sure if you were to congratulate him, celebrate him or something more. On top of that, he'd eventually find that haori you'd slaved over for days, and you weren't sure you could take the heartbreak of dismissal.

However, those fears were quashed when, from a new little secret garden hovel, you spied the man donning the very haori you slaved over; it wasn't a flashy piece, you didn't want to subtract from the marvel that was the king of curses, so you opted for using black, shimmery thread to weave intricate twisting trees and blackened blooms along the sleeve. Only if the design caught the light would one be able to notice it.

But that was enough for you. Knowing he accepted such a meaningless gift was reassuring of your place in his world.

So, you finally let Uraume convince you to stay in the room they'd prepared for you.

“No need to be nervous,” you hummed, that undying urge inside you to take care of something helping you soothe the young woman's nerves. You fixed her hair, your deft fingers carefully slipping strands into place before sliding a decorative pin in to hold it all together. You took a step back to appraise her, Sukuna's latest concubine.

“I–thank you.” Sachiko blushed fiercely and bowed the slightest bit, not risking a deep bow for the fear of her hair falling loose. “I can see why all the girls love you.”

You laughed, low and warm. “Well, it's hard not to love someone who takes care of you, no?” Gently, you tilted her chin up and leaned in, carefully examining the red lacquer staining her lips. The colour matched her kimono and the gems in that exquisite hairpin keeping dark locks at bay. “But I'm glad. I know it's difficult to find respite in these times.”

Sachiko held her breath as she looked over the natural paint of crimson adorning your eyes. “I-I, um–yes, I do agree.”

You hummed and carefully fixed the smallest smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Mh. So I hope you do your best to please him.”

“I will!” Sachiko promised. “But–I wish to–may I give you something?”

“Of course.”

She gathered her kimono up in her hands and leaned up toward you. You leaned down, expecting a secret or hushed words, but perfect red lips pressed against your skin instead. And you were dumbfounded; you'd never been kissed before. You'd never had a lady show that interest in you.

Sachiko got down from her tiptoes and hid her mouth with her sleeve. “Just for good luck!” She squeaked before bowing and hastily running through the doors where Sukuna would no doubt be waiting for his woman for the evening’s events.

You looked at the doors sliding closed and caught a glimpse of Sukuna stood before the young woman, his frame swallowing hers as you looked on. And you caught a glimpse of his eyes, his stare of shock and utter vexation–clearly, he'd seen the short woman give you a kiss for good luck.

You turned away, choosing to abandon the girl to her demise as your fingers ghosted against your lips in wonder.

He showed up in your chambers later that night. You were still awake, quietly embroidering another haori; this time, it was for Uraume. They insisted they didn't want to burden you, but they crumbled under your more insistent insistence, and accepted the offer on the condition it looked subtle and muted.

Sukuna padded toward you, hardly bothering to announce himself or ask to join you (ugh, how annoying) before plopping himself onto the futon beside you, sighing as he laid down.

“I see you finished early,” you commented, jumping the littlest bit when large hands caught your flickering tails. He didn't hurt you, no; he was simply an overgrown toddler with a penchant for examining whatever wiggled before him.

“That woman kissed you,” Sukuna answered, unhelpful. “Ruined it.”

“Ah. Well. I didn't expect it either.” You cleared your throat, feeling an unexpected bubble of embarrassment rise in your chest. “I have…I've never been given a kiss before. Not from what I can recall, at the very least.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Sukuna grouched. “You planted one on me in the gardens.”

“Giving is not receiving,” you corrected, flicking your tail so as to hit his face. “I've never given a kiss on another's lips, regardless. Though I find myself wondering why I–”

You yowled when he yanked your tail like he meant to rip the thing off, and you whirled on him, eyes drawn into slits and chunky fangs bared as you dug your nails into his wrist in an effort to make him let go.

Yet the king looked unfazed. He sat up and tugged you closer by your tail, yank after yank, ripping an impressive collection of vexed noises from you until his broad hand caught you by the throat. You clawed at his wrist and forearm, scrambling to find purchase, idly wondering if he'd finally had enough of you and sought to put you down after dirtying one of his concubines–

But he kissed you instead. His lips were warm and dry, not quite soft yet not unwelcoming. Sukuna knew what he was doing, too; his tongue licked at your bottom lip before pushing inside to finally taste you and taint you from within just a little bit.

Your grip on him laxed the slightest bit, and you even eased into his hold as he, too, refused to harm you further. If you weren't aware of his malevolent spirit, you might've thought him gentle in that long, simple moment–a special brand of “gentle” that was wholly Sukuna's. Kind, but jagged around the edges.

He started pulling back, though, and you followed after his touch like a bewitched maiden chasing after the lips of a lover. You nipped at the air like that'd do something for you, but soon settled on leaning into the hand holding you still, even if your throat scratched and ached because of it.

You found Sukuna's calm stare watching you when you opened your eyes a crack. For once, you thought he looked content; the cruel, mocking lines of his face had smoothed and relaxed, and that annoying, cocky smirk he'd been born sporting had been replaced with a placid, normal lilt. Even the inferno blazing in crimson depths eased into pools of yawning embers–warm and spirited, yet contained.

The sight relaxed you despite the confusion it brought to your rationale.

“That,” Sukuna said, so odd and quiet, but powerful and judicial. “Is your first.” His thumb stroked against the side of your neck, pausing to feel the pitter patter of your heart thrumming under his mercy. “It'd serve you to remember that.”

You nodded shallowly. “Of course.”

Pleased, he let go of your quite breakable neck and moved like he was about to get up. You grabbed at his hand and pressed his palm to the side of your face like he was cupping your cheek. Your insistence on touching gave the beast pause, but he settled again, content to let you keep him hostage for as long as you wanted.

And you indulged in the simple favour. You nuzzled into his palm with a very fox-like chitter as a bassy, quiet trill of a purr lazily rolled through your chest, eventually reaching Sukuna himself. It somehow had him feeling content. Relaxed. Like he was basking in the warmth of the sun.

“I request another,” you chirped, and Sukuna quirked a brow.

“Another?”

“Kiss.”

Sukuna twitched a smirk. “It'll cost ya.”

“Oh?”

“Give me another blessing.”

And you agreed.

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