#obsessed with how gentle he was in this moment!!

[metranart]

Obsessed with Nanami being all flustered and horny while in a mission with you, his ex-girlfriend's younger sister.

Ft. Nanami Kento x reader. He is thirsty for your unshared attention. He wants to be a good but you won't let him...

Driving towards the next mission, Nanami’s gaze drifts from time to time to the person sitting in the passenger seat. It is a subtly almost stoic and imperceptible move yet highly effective. 

The experienced sorcerer has found unavoidable to keep his gaze away from you for too long.

Fate was cruel, the blonde already knew that. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is full of ups and downs, likewise… but this time, life is being excruciatingly unfair to him, making it almost like a personal affront. 

Because-…why?!... why?!!!...why did fate dare to conceive an exact replica of the only woman he has ever loved. 

Since his days of youth in Tokyo Jujutsu High, where he teamed up with two persons who would become his most important friends and unintentionally, got madly in love with one of them. Life tasted sour and sweet, all in the same plate.

One of his teammates was like a breath of clear and beautifully scented air filling his grateful lungs with so much joy, it was ridiculous. 

The blonde sorcerer remembers how much attention his lovely teammate drew by just parading around in the school uniform or merely smiling at one of his unexpected moments of sarcasm. 

The way her smile lit the rooms was something cathartical. Kidnapping the eyes of those who Nanami called classmates, to be more precise…upper classmates… annoying little bastards always lurking around the lovely third of his team. Their intentions clear, as the clear eyes of one of them.

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Getou were like a plague that more than not, invaded the younger trio space. The jujutsu sorcerers were older than them yet that did not stop them to somehow always find a way to crash their meeting points and places to hang out, a coincidence, he doubted it. 

Those two were like leeches who wanted to feed from the sweet and addictive nectar of his precious classmate, so eager to probe themselves better than each other and as consequence better than him…by sporting feats of strength and power so huge that it was impossible for others to even catch up with them. 

Gojo and his ever present, knowing smile adorning those soft lips as innocently leaned towards her and pretended was going to teach her a new combat stance, only to let his body stick closer than necessary while his treacherous hands lightly traced the supple skin it could grasp… sneaky, hormonally driven, young Satoru was someone to be careful of…and that fact made certain blonde crinkle his nose in disgust and narrow his eyes in anger, at his off-limits tactics.

The older sorcerer was to say the least infuriating.  

Even the approaches, from his not so flashy companion became threatening to the blonde. Getou and his tight-lipped smile which to certain person made him resemble a cunning fox.

He seemed to gracefully float around like a dandelion in the wind, careless attitude backed up by his hands tucked inside his pockets. 

The dark-haired sorcerer had an imperceptible and gentle way of showing up, making sure to leave a pleasant impression after every interaction. If his intentions were to incline the balance in his favor, those well-thought acts of attentive kindness were definitely smart.

The older students saw it all as a fair contest between companions, but Nanami more than sometimes felt the fantastic duo, cheats by teaming up against him… reason why he mostly ignored them.  

However, so caught up in their little mischief as the older duo was, eventually they stopped paying attention to certain unresponsive blonde who never gave them and their quarrel the time of day. What was their surprise when the supposedly inoffensive blonde ended up winning the lady, without breaking a sweat. 

As Getou sarcastically put it while patiently waiting for Gojo’s impending tantrum… looks like lady’s luck is on Nanami’s side on this one, Satoru. 

And soon the attention everyone coveted so much turned to him when his teammate and all her affections favored his stoic self.

Getou could almost swear could clearly hear how certain white-haired, blue-eyed prodigy’s heart broke like glass been smashed against the cold, unforgiving floor when she chose Nanami above everyone. 

Nevertheless, subtly glancing at his friend, could not glimpse a trace of hurt or jealousy. Only noted with resign…he was not smiling, anymore. And for the first time, Nanami was. 

After all, that cute, unexpectedly lovable girl choose him above the magnificent Gojo Satoru…Nanami, a nobody, just another regular sorcerer could call himself the rightful owner of her heart. Having the girl of his dreams fawning over his touch and craving for his sole attention, was indeed good. 

Ugh! Nanami secretly loved it. 

It was unexpected satisfactory fact that stroke his ego, almost hand in hand with how have her to his own, stroked his libido.

Soon their relationship bloomed, and she became one of those persons only appeared one in a million…apparently, this time there was a glitch and somehow, now Nanami is trapped in a dejavu. 

All thanks to the fateful day, he lost her. One day they were holding hands, the next she was gone… disappeared.  

The blonde looked for her like a lost dog looks for his home and many others joined as well… Gojo and Getou being just a few who devotedly shared this particular mission… but they were too late. His darling had left this world and shattered, Nanami abandoned the sorcerer world to become an ordinary salary man. 

One objective, money… enough money to make him forget that he failed to protect her, tired and boring days in an office were better than trashing in his bed unable to rest. 

It was a decent job, with decent intervals of action when he deigns to help a stranger or a girl in a coffee shop to remove a weak but maiming, curse. 

And what was his surprise when after several years of self-punishment, finally took the decision to come back to the sorcerer’s world and be useful again…he was struck with the vision of the beauty he once devoted himself to, but not a vision at all, but her in bone and flesh. 

Shock, stupefaction, resent, hurt… yes! those are some accurate words to describe how betrayed the blonde feels seeing her again sporting the same uniform of their youth while happily smiling at a new set of teammates and blatantly ignoring his presence as if didn’t know him, as if he hadn’t been her first kiss, her first dance, her shoulder to cry or the one thoughtfully fucking her against the nearest surface in countless occasions. 

Reaching his breaking point, Nanami’s fists clenches and his jaw acquires a sharper angle as he firmly strides to confront her and demand an explanation, when is hastily stopped by an old friend who corrects his deceiving trail of thoughts by announcing his mistake.

“It's her little sister, my friend.” Gojo explained, bluntly. “She’s a carbon paper copy, don’t you agree?” he draws his lower lip between his teeth and Nanami feels his blindfolded stare on him.

“You ought to know better than some of us.” The comment floats in the air, and the plausible tad of jealousy tinted in resentment it may have held is left forgotten due to how unbelievable much you looked like her.

Younger sister…? Wait, what!?...Why she never spoke to him about you?...she must have a good reason… yet why not share it with him… 

His face must have mirrored his doubts for the snow-haired teacher by his side was prone to inform.

“This little one appeared in front of the school at the tender age of eleven…” he nodded his head to emphasize his statement. “Days after you left, actually—” Gojo rested his hand against his chin, remembering. “Carrying a handwritten letter from her recently deceased sister, your darling…seems like she had a well-hidden secret whose name is (y/n).”

Nanami was at a loose for words. How did he not realize before? Of course, it couldn't be her! Yet, you looked exactly like when they were teenagers and even when those golden years had vanished, the memory still fueled his heart with a furious torrent of emotion that hammered through his veins. 

Momentarily stunned by the astonishing similarity, stood silent and Gojo continues explaining how you are the only trace she left behind…the youngest of a devastated, well-hidden clan of sorcerers and now, quite the lovely teen. 

Your cute face is exactly like the one he dreams of when has a strike of luck instead of the usual nightmares, the way the uniform hugs your curves is sending familiar shivers through every muscle of his body, the flow of your hair cascading down your back has him nibbling at his lip with a hunger doesn’t recognize and that incredibly, gentle spark lingering in your gaze has his heart hammering an old and painful ballad of love… you are re-branding his brain with a new, yet, known tune.

You are most certainly, her little sister and he is infuriatingly hooked, could have fallen on his knees and burst into pathetic tears of the most sublime pain and relief, but instead stands expressionless and almost indifferent to your presence, knowing certain cerulean eyes drink his every reaction, and if he knows Gojo as he thinks he does… the prodigy is pondering a second chance, so bluntly, can almost savor you.

Nanami must admit trusts Gojo with his life… even if doesn’t respect him that much, the prodigy holds a special place to him… that said, makes him a little uncomfortable the knowledge you may be occupying this powerful sorcerer every thought while triggering in him, a long qualm, thirst. 

Even when glancing at him looks cool and compose, the blonde senses how consumed by you he already is… how eager, patiently waits for a chance to steal the last print of an old flame that never was able to fully blow away.

A print that now lies in the next seat of Nanami’s car, scrolling through her cellphone utterly unaware of how her presence not only spikes her sensei’s interest, but has an equally, if not higher effect on Nanami’s blood pressure, fogging his rational thoughts and making him more dangerous than any curse they were to face that day.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” He hears you teasingly say, without taking your eyes from the screen of your cell phone.

Well, maybe he is not as subtle as he thought. A playful smile lingers in your lips and his rigid shoulders lose a little at your obvious teasing. 

Nanami merely hums, secretly amused. His face doesn’t show what really thinks but if it did, you wouldn’t be so calm.

“I have a picture of you.” You share out of the sudden, ignoring his lack of acknowledgement to your previous comment and from the corner of your eye almost dare to claim, he is smirking. “It's an old snapshot and has a date written below...” the blonde slightly tilts his head towards you, and you know you have his full attention. 

“My sister is giving you a kiss on the cheek, and you look outstandingly cold and indifferent, yet—” you make a long pause while rapidly typing something in your phone and starting to lose focus, you hear him stoically repeat.

“Yet…”

Glancing at him your gazes bump, his eyes are set on you instead of the road and the intensity shining behind his amber glasses spark goosebumps all over your forearms. 

You make a pitiful and unintelligible questioning sound, and your previous idea returns. “Uh-hh..yes!-…you were adorably blushing, Nanami.” You claim, confident of your keen eye. 

“It took me some study and analyzing, but I can confidently say that I may be the only person who can tell when you are blushing like a cornered nun.”

A cute giggle supports your claim, and the aloof blonde slowly returns his gaze to the road, in utter silence. A shit eating grin blooms in your face and pointing a finger at his face, you declare, shamelessly.

“Like right now! You are blushing!” 

The sorcerer barely tilts his head your way and carefully bats your pointing finger away. An imperceptible grin sparking his solemn stupor.

“No, I’m not.”

-

The two of you finish the mission fairly slow and leave almost intact the premises, the curse was extra troublesome and annoying more than powerful and you feel like if your body weighted twice as much due to fatigue. 

Your body has replenished with cursed energy and is back to normal, but this was supposed to be a simple enough mission, which actually wasn’t.

Entering the co-pilot seat, you sprawl all over the seat, heavily groaning.

“I’m too old for this.” You nag, stretching your arms over your head until your back cracks, loudly.

“If you are too old, I must be catastrophically ancient…” Nanami replies in a calm voice, absentmindedly, adjusting his seatbelt. “More like catastrophically-y, aged…like a good wineeee.” You interrupt him in slurred words and half-lidded eyes. 

Not giving a second thought to your misplaced praise, he finishes and glances at you to check your seatbelt, to find it irresponsibly absent. “Put your seatbelt on, please.”

Unwittingly ignoring him due to your quick shift between awake and sleep. He repeats the request and waits. 

“(Y/N), please, put your seatbelt on.” 

A pained sigh leaves his lips before his mouth sets in a firm line, and he leans over your already sleeping form.

This girl is going to be the end of me… 

His hand grabs for the seatbelt and pulls it over your torso, adjusting it correctly until can hear the click and checking his work, finds the belt tangled awkwardly right in the middle of your heaving chest. 

“Damn it.”

The blonde sorcerer whispers under his breath and smoothly hovering over you again, lightly grabs the wronged strap in between his fingers and pulls very weakly as to not disturb you, but the stretchy material doesn’t give and has to use both hands to untangle the seatbelt.

“Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up…” he repeats, lowly as a mantra, while his palms smooth against your breast, groping and lightly touching his way as he finally untangles the material and sets it straight. 

His eyes widen at the way the strap presses between your breast making it look rounder and plumper and his mouth waters, skin over his hands tingling at the delicious grazes he was able to steal while innocently arranging you.

Straightening back, Nanami places his seatbelt back on and starts the engine. There’s a long way back to the college and his mind is about to make it even longer.

You are firmly rooted in his brain. 

Throughout all the mission, you were constantly asking him about your sister and that set him on the edge. How was onee-san when she was young? Was she strong? Was she awesome? Where you a couple?

Nanami adored your lovely sister but talk about her still made him sore and sometimes a little guilty…a lot guilty, especially when you where the one asking. Due to a nagging voice in the back of his head always reminding him how blatantly lusted after the love of his life's, little sister.

He must admit felt thankful for the curse to be a higher rank that he had planned, due to that distracted you enough for him to change the subject.

But now, there is no curse to distract him, and his more dangerous thoughts are up to make him feel awfully driven.

He shouldn't have touched you, but he didn't want you to be uncomfortable.

How naive of me. The ex-salary man thinks, annoyed. 

The darkness surrounds the road while the car passes through the deserted lane and Nanami can feel how his pants are getting tighter while his mind plays thousands of scenarios where you are the protagonist. 

A long sigh abandons his tight lips and slowing the car, finds a curve to stop. 

He feels odd. 

Nanami is not only exhausted but also embarrassingly aroused. 

Leaning back against his seat, shuts his eyelids and takes a couple of deep gulps of air until his heart stops drumming so hard. Able to hear his thoughts again, relaxes and places a warm palm on top of his stranding erection and forces his mind into a calm state of relaxation.

In and out, in and out, he heaves.

Opening his eyes, finds the light of the city in front of him…when did I park here?...and realizes is parked in an abandoned parking lot which lies lighten up only by the bright lights of the throbbing city near a steep cliff.

The ex-salary man remembers that place from fond memories but doesn’t remember making the turn to get there. 

Odd. 

Cocking his head to the side, glances back at you and finding you deep asleep. He dares to palm his throbbing erect member though the suit pants. Light nibbles at his lower lip aids him to repress a moan and he ponders.

Maybe just some strokes to calm me down…she’s deep sleep…Its irresponsible for me to drive this… distracted.

He’s not even going to take himself out, stroking himself under the fabric would serve him right. Unzipping his pants, his hand merely slips under the fabric to wrap around his engorged length. 

Slowly strokes up and down, from the base to the tip in fluid and regular motions.

Looking at you the entire time through his amber lenses, he lets his mind wander about the thousands of possibilities that laid between your warm thighs, and it takes just a minute for him to close his eyes to enjoy his little fantasy and for a loud moan to freely depart his sealed lips.

Nanami keeps stroking, a little faster, a little firmer… when suddenly feels faint air fan his face.

Instantly, opens his eyes to find your beautiful (e/c) orbs, gazing down at his erect cock. Fully at display, at some point, had pull himself out and now he was fucked.

Embarrassingly mortified is about to cover himself and mutter a fast apology when your words stop him cold.

“Your balls are so full…” You express, matter-of-factly, stare firmly set on his exposed flesh. “May I help you relieve the stress, Nanami? After all it is my fault–”

Your cotton-candy, mellow mewl informs and he realizes your words don’t make sense, why would it be your fault?Perhaps, you knew of his sick infatuation with you? Maybe you were aware of how frequently his mind fluttered around you… or, maybe he has been painfully obvious, and you just like to see him, troubled and strained. Having his permanent stare on your every move. 

But before your words sink completely to find a proper meaning, your body is in motion. Undoing your seatbelt, you climb out of your seat and straddle him for a moment too short for his delight, to then carefully slip in between his open thighs and comfortably, occupy the space under the steering wheel.

“Are you comfortable?” 

You ask and the experienced sorcerer is too stunned to answer. Mouth agape, he witnesses as your tiny hand shyly grazes his sack to then cup it and begin to do a generous massage.

Nanami can’t stop the pleasurable tremble that kidnaps his entire frame, and he blasts. 

“Stop-” his firm request dies in his parted lips when your wet lips join sucking the smooth skin covering his heavy balls and a long, raspy groan fills the car.

You dedicate all your mind in the task and closing your eyes in concentration, ignore how his throbbing member rests over your face, delivering soft, faint slaps each time you suck too eagerly. 

Nanami is getting there way too quickly, your inexpert massage combined with the fervent licks and sucks are unfairly disarming him, his thick thighs are sprawled on either side of you and remembering how to breath, sets on a personal quest to prevent from cumming. 

Not that he doesn’t want to see your cute little face dripping in his murky essence, is more that he doesn’t want to face you after.

Finally getting his shit together, comes back from ecstasy and is able to think straight again. 

What he plans to be a firm demand is highly questionable.

“Stop right now-… (y/n) …you don’t know-” gasps, “what you a-are doing…to me-” squinting his eyes, his mouth opens slightly to gulp more air. 

“Am I doing it wrong, Nanami?” Your pouty lips abandon his scrotum, and you glance up at him looking like a scolded puppy.

Nanami’s heart clenches watching you pout like that. You look so eager to please him and he feels so eager to let you.

This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong… 

Loudly sighing, cools his mind and letting all his good senses be melt by you, asks the only question that is able to formulate. “…Are you sure?”

There’s a pregnant silence and he, anxiously, waits.

He wants you so bad, shamefully remembers how tempted felt to touch you more in your sleep. To slide his hand between your open legs under the fabric of your skirt, to grope under your uniform shirt and feel the softness of your skin. But he isn’t that kind of man. He only takes when given.

Finally, you nod, and he gently denies his head. 

“I need verbal–” 

“I’m sure, Nanami.” You reply, rapidly but shyly. “Please-e let me help you.” You stammer, weakly and a cute blush spread over your cheeks.

It’s enough for Nanami.

Opening his pants, a little wider, he strokes his shaft, invitingly and you lean up on your bended knees to let your tongue run from the roundness of his scrotum and up his thick length, leaving a wet line of delirious tingles along your way up. Your pink tongue flattens a visible vein at the side and your lips wrap, slowly, around the tip.

Nanami wasn’t expecting this level of compromise at suck him off and his mind goes uncontrollably, wild and foggy.

Your pink lips are devoutly hugging the tip, delivering slow and wet cat licks until you feel your head be pushed from the back and you are forced to engulf almost six inches of raw meat, slipping down your delicate throat, roughly. 

The bulbous head of his cock faintly hits the back of your throat, and he gasps, loudly.

“Please…” the sorcerer mewls, “open wider-” bucks into your mouth, eyes tightly closed. “WIDER...” the blonde commands, in a tight voice and his palm presses harder against the back of your nape. His hips start to move, humping your narrow mouth, taking your head in his hands to dip his cock as his thrusts ignite a rhythm. 

You whine and his eyes open to look at your glossy eyes looking up at him, lips stretched around his shaft, mouth full of him, nose hitting his pubic bone with each lunge as his plump balls coat in spit falling from your drooling lips. 

You are too much to take in. You are too fucking much. Nanami is losing it. Your fingers are digging at his thighs and your cheeks resolutely hollow to try to suck him deeper. 

Desperately, trying to achieve his needy command.

It's so wrong, so despicable of him to be filling you so utterly good. It's like your mouth was carved around his erect cock.  

Tears run down your cheeks and Nanami doesn’t even try to slow his pace or alternate from hitting the back of your throat to let you breathe. 

He’s far gone to gift you with those courtesies, he gave several warnings and even more chances to leave him be. 

But your stubborn self-refused to listen, now the only thing can do is take his glasses off to place them over your eyes and slip them up the bridge of your nose, to lower the pang of enthusiasm that your wet eyelashes mixed with how much you are struggling, arouses him.

Needs to keep a little control over himself, you are so inexpert he might break you, if let's go completely. 

You look so good; it is taking all in him to not thrust faster. You are as breathtaking as your sister once was.

And it hits him, his eyes narrowing at the realization, you are way better. 

“Never thought I would say this…but i think you look even prettier than your sister used to look when she sucked me off after classes-” he praises, drawing a large hand down your cheek to tilt your drooling chin up and guide your mouth to swallow more of his length until feels your agitated breath fan against his pubic skin and he holds, lightly. 

“Breathe through your nose.” Indicates, in a calm voice. “You wanted to know more about her…” You blush at the mention of your beloved onee-san and your current state, but Nanami’s seems fairly relaxed, “…haven’t you been pestering me about that all day?”

Gagging tears run down behind amber glasses at the same time you nod, weakly and whipping them gently with his thumbs, he continues.

“The first time I fucked her dumb was after we defeat a special class curse…she had your exact age, we both were so young-” his voice was thick with something you couldn’t decipher but the way he looks down at you, tells miles about how serious he’s been. “I pressed her against the hard concrete and ram her from behind without letting her adjust to the girth of my cock…” you sharply inhale trying to pull your head back and he pulls you back in and holds you still between his strong hands. “I said, breathe through your nose.”

The stoic blonde waits for you to stop gagging, softly petting your hair and once your pulse is steady again, he continues sharing. “It was not gentle or romantic, in the least, pure and raw passion-…” his orbs roll to the side as if remembering and faintly grinning, he admits. “She even let me strip her bare in that filthy place, to mount her against everything we could put her on…” his right palm slides down your throat in a measured motion, palming with the pad of his fingers at your delicate neck to figure how deep inside you, he is.

Lightly nudging finds the head of his cock at the top of your delicate neck and he hums, approvingly at how deep your swallowed him being your first time. You were certainly struggling to keep him nestled inside, yet he isn’t ready to leave your warmth.

“At first, she couldn’t swallow me whole but after hard training I loosen her throat enough to hug my cock at its fullest… just like you are struggling to do right now…” his fingers tap playfully against your swollen neck, and you groan.

Whirling your tongue around his tip, as your last attempt to unbalance him enough to pull back, finally succeed and he moans huskily, to then pull you off from the hair, lips making a loud pop sound when your mouth leaves. 

You pant, heavily. Tears run wild down your strained cheeks as you swallow some spit to moisten your sullen throat. 

Trying to catch your breath, you feel the rim of his coat sleeve gently cleaning the drool from your mouth, soft and precise wipes as if polishing fragile china and his large hand cups your jaw delivering a mindful massage while his other hand threads his long fingers inside the strands of your hair and both palms dutifully lower the pain cause by his previous roughness.

“I apologize, just wanted to make a point.” He simply states as if that explained everything. You look at him, confusion swimming in your round puffy eyes and he sighs, innocently cocking his head at you. “Your sister and I had a very special relationship, based in raw trust and the most pure and unprejudiced understanding.” 

You weren’t dumb and his secret innuendo didn’t pass unnoticed. It was more than obvious that they knew each other fairly well to share their kinks and deepest secrets and trusted each other enough to not feel judged when they did. 

You want that, you want Nanami to claim you as he once claimed your sister. You want Nanami to trust you as he trusted her.

“I want to be like her!” you proclaim, heatedly. “I can take it.”    

You say, staring directly into his eyes, determination shinning in your orbs. Nanami shakes his head, pleasantly surprise and in a lazy motion takes back his glasses, bumping the tip of your nose with his index finger before putting the amber glass back on the bridge of his nose.

The experienced sorcerer leans, surrounding the steering wheel with both his arms and whispers in a husky, joyful voice. 

“Want me to train you like I train your onee-san?” A mischievous smirk stretches his mouth, and you marvel at how handsome he looks when he’s relaxed.

You nod, eagerly. 

“Fine.” He speaks. “I’ll train you.”

Your eyes round with excitement and he grins at your sparkling attitude. 

“Lesson one.” You lean closer, attentive for his next words. “Breathe through your nose.” 

A wide smile stretches your face, beautiful and full of joy and he feels butterflies flying inside his stomach when you say his name.

“Nanami.” 

“Nanami…”

“Nanami Kento!”

The blonde opens his eyes, startled and confusion raids his usually stoic features. 

“Nanami-” You call once again, this time softer. “You fell sleep.” You swiftly explain and glancing around finds the car where he left it, at the side of the lane and not in the parking lot near the cliff. 

Damn it! Dammit! I dreamed all…? What a magnificent asshole I am…that was the lividest dream I’ve ever had…Damn it…Damn it…

“I know.” His voice is thick and clearing his throat, his face goes back to plain and indifferent. “Just resting my eyes…to continue safely.”

You accept his answer, easily.

“Classic Nanami,” you beam. “So trustworthy.” Smiling adds. “I feel so safe around you.”

His mouth sets in a straight line and he starts the car again, feeling a whole lot more guilty.

The trip is fast and silent, and you attribute it to him being tired. But you couldn’t be more wrong. 

The experienced sorcerer is deep in thought, more like deep in regret. Analyzing every aspect of his wet dream, can only come to the conclusion that he is in desperate need of placing you in your sister’s shoes. 

Probably is being unfair to that prerogative, what he really wants is for you to want to be in your sister’s shoes. 

For you to want and need him as much as he does with you. Is that too much to ask? He thinks not. 

Reaching the school, he stops at the entrance, and you hop down the car, bouncing skirt claims his entire attention and snapping out of it, Nanami quickly says his goodbyes with a fast motion of his hand.

The motor roars and before he leaves, you turn around and point at his face through the open window. 

“Hey Nanami!” he turns to look at you, holding a stare that’ll worry you, if it weren’t being hidden behind his glasses, and ignoring his throbbing need, you cleverly proclaim. 

“You are blushing!” 

Damn it. 

➡️ JJK NSFW ART

[anniebeemine]

I’d love to see dad Spencer finding out his teen daughter has a boyfriend and reader is just like “this is normal babe” and he’s just so that dad who doesn’t want his little girl to grow up

Spencer wasn’t sure when it had happened. One day, his daughter Eliza was running around the backyard, obsessed with dinosaurs and space, and the next, she was texting non-stop, staying up late on the phone, and hanging out with friends. She was growing up fast—too fast for his liking—and now, at sixteen, she’d hit him with something he was entirely unprepared for.

“So...I have a boyfriend,” Eliza said casually, looking down at her phone while sitting at the kitchen table.

Spencer nearly dropped his mug of coffee.

“What?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and Eliza’s head snapped up to meet his wide-eyed stare. She bit her lip nervously, but her expression was mostly amused, like she had expected this kind of reaction.

“I said, I have a boyfriend, Dad,” she repeated, more slowly, as if that might make the shock easier to absorb. “His name’s Ethan, we’ve been texting for a couple weeks and...we’re going to a movie this weekend.”

Spencer felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. A boyfriend? His little girl had a boyfriend? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet. Not ever, if he had his way.

You, standing by the stove and flipping pancakes, glanced over at the scene unfolding. You were smiling softly, clearly not surprised by Eliza’s news, and you gave Spencer a knowing look as he struggled to find words.

Spencer had noticed the changes, of course. How could he not? Over the last few weeks, Eliza had been giggling at her phone more than usual, texting away with a grin that made him wonder what was so funny. She’d been asking to stay out an extra thirty minutes before he picked her up from her friend's house, her voice casual but always a little too hopeful. And then there was the way she was suddenly excited to go to school—something that used to take a lot more convincing, especially for early mornings.

But Spencer had brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to normal teenage behavior. Maybe she was just hanging out with her friends more. Maybe her classes had gotten more interesting. He hadn’t connected the dots.

Now, as she casually mentioned having a boyfriend, it hit him like a freight train.

He should have paid more attention.

He stood there, still holding his coffee, realizing that all those little signs had been pointing to this moment. The giggling, the extra time with her friends, the sudden enthusiasm for school—it all made sense now. Ethan.

“Eliza, when exactly did this start?” Spencer asked, trying to sound calm but knowing he wasn’t pulling it off.

Eliza shrugged, still scrolling through her phone. “A few weeks ago. It’s not that serious, Dad.”

Not that serious? His daughter had a boyfriend, and she was acting like it was just another Tuesday.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but you gave him a gentle nudge before he could start spiraling again. You’d been watching the whole thing unfold, a soft smile on your face as you watched your husband try to process this new chapter of parenthood.

“Spence,” you said gently, catching his attention, “it’s normal, you know.”

“Normal?” Spencer repeated, his voice incredulous as he turned to you. “Our daughter—our little girl—has a boyfriend, and that’s normal?”

You laughed softly, walking over to him and resting a hand on his arm. “Yes, it’s normal, babe. She’s a teenager. This was bound to happen at some point.”

“I wasn’t ready for this,” he mumbled, still staring at Eliza like she had just told him she was moving to another country. He thought back to all those little moments he hadn’t fully paid attention to—the way she’d been giggling at her phone, how she always seemed to be in a good mood after school. The puzzle pieces were coming together now.

Eliza, for her part, rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly amused by her dad’s overreaction. “Dad, relax. It’s not a big deal. Ethan’s nice.”

Spencer opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled, “Nice?”

You squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you meet him before jumping to any conclusions?”

Spencer was already shaking his head. “I don’t need to meet him. I know boys his age and they-"

“Spence,” you interrupted, shooting him a look. “Eliza’s smart. She’ll be fine. And besides, you trust her, right?”

Eliza gave him a hopeful smile. “Yeah, Dad. You trust me, don’t you?”

He hesitated. Of course, he trusted her—she was the most brilliant, thoughtful person he knew. But the idea of her being out there with a boyfriend, navigating relationships and the teenage world, it was overwhelming. She was still his little girl.

But he could see the way her eyes were watching him, waiting for his approval, and he couldn’t be the dad that held her back from growing up. With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

“I...I trust you, Eliza,” he said finally, though he still looked like he was struggling to come to terms with it. “But, uh...maybe I should meet this Ethan kid before your date.”

Eliza grinned, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Of course, Dad. I’ll make sure he’s ready for the interrogation.”

Spencer groaned, looking at you for support, and you just laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “See? Not so bad.”

“It feels bad,” Spencer muttered, though his heart was slowly warming to the idea. “Can’t she stay ten forever?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nope. But she’ll always be your little girl.”

And even though Spencer wasn’t entirely ready, he knew you were right. He watched Eliza happily texting away, already excited for her movie date, and couldn’t help but smile. He might not like it, but he’d be there to support her every step of the way, even if it meant meeting her first boyfriend with a million questions lined up.

Spencer nodded, though the reality was still sinking in. His little girl was no longer just the dinosaur-obsessed kid running through the backyard. She was becoming her own person, with her own life and experiences. And while he wasn’t quite ready for all the changes, he knew he’d be there for her, through every giggle and every milestone, even if it meant meeting Ethan and doing “the dad thing” with a nervous smile.

For now, though, he’d take a deep breath and try not to panic—too much.

[lightlycareless]

The perfect girl by mareux = Naoya and y/n

( if you listen to the lyrics you’ll understand !!🤭)

Hi!!!

First of all, I'm so sorry it took me a while to get back to you! Between answering other asks and writing snippets here and there... well, I got busy. But I will always do my best to respond to all!!!! And now, here I am. Moving on...

Omg this song I heard it everywhere but I never really gave it much attention—AND NOW, IT FITS NAOYA AND Y/N VERY WELL.

Now following the lyrics and song itself, I get a sense of being so irrevocably in love/obsessed with said girl that’s being sung about—just about the words I’d use to describe what Naoya feels for you haha.

warnings: fluff. a bit of highschool au. in my mind, that's how they officially met.

I always believed that the reason why Naoya fell so hard for you is because you were completely different from his world. And somehow the sentence strange girl takes me back to when you and Naoya first met.

Naoya obviously knew that once the year ended, they’d be a bunch of new students gracing the school grounds. Nothing that he would’ve normally cared for outside of observing if there were any girls that might catch his interest, but this time around he was forced to be attentive all thanks to your annoying siblings who had made such a big deal about your enrollment.

“Another idiot to join their shenanigans. Great!” He’d say, just about the usual harsh words he’d use towards them, because he hated them.

Kind of. Mostly. Depending on the context. He did not get along with them, at all; yet again, nobody did.

But then, when the fated day finally comes and he gets a glimpse of you… all preconceived notions were promptly thrown out the window, becoming immediately smitten by you.

He just… couldn’t peel his eyes away from the strange girl that honored the hallways with her hypnotizing presence. There was something so intoxicating about your appearance, a sense of purity that showed you had remained largely ignorant of the cruelties of life. Or at least those that are usually bestowed to members of the jujutsu community.

And that just made you stranger before his eyes; odd that someone like you, part of a somewhat important family, was still capable of being cheerful, with both yourself and others.

But as unusual as it was… Naoya was still enveloped with a grave urge to protect you. Shelter that same innocence he had been unwittingly stripped away from, while hoping he’d keep getting that same gentle demeanor you’ve always bestowed upon him when possible:

The way you were always so eager to tell him about your endeavors, whatever mission or school assignment you were tasked with—either to complain, or seek advice, he didn’t care for what as long as you went to him—always considering him above others it seemed, when the rest wouldn’t even bother to look at his direction if not to seek advantage of his title, or simply avoid him…

The way you’d softly call his name, imprinting the moment it happened the first time in the back of his mind: the tone of your voice, the look in your face… like you were happy to see him! When was the last time he could say that about anyone? Not even his own father…

The way you’d compliment his work; a sincere appreciation that didn’t come from recited words out of fear of reprehension or interest in obtaining favors. You saw what he was capable of and took interest in it with hopes of improving yourself, or to simply encourage him.

And of course, the way you took your time to get to know him. Not the heir, not the talented sorcerer, but the man himself; Naoya. Having little no to interest in his family outside of comparing lifestyles, see if he too grew tired of pestering elders and overbearing parents, or if he even got along with his siblings.

…

Naoya felt human for the first time in his life with you, your words filling a void he could never satisfy with the empty gestures of his surroundings… So how did you not expect him to fall in love?

“You’re a strange girl, Y/N.” He’d disclose to you one day, the moment he finally came to terms with his feelings for you, much to your horror.

“Oh, is that—is that a good thing?” you fret, for such adjective was rarely used in positive prospect.

But to Naoya, that word only meant you were beyond good.

You were perfect.

I'm sure Y/N did most of the approaching and Naoya just stood there like the tsundere I always envisioned him to be; it's not until he grows comfortable that he becomes the suave, teasing guy we all know and love (I mean, in my mind hahahaha) but yeah... it's safe to say that to him you were a strange little thing that he ended up falling in love with 🥺

Hnnnnnggggg this was so sweet to write, though the song kind of went more into a dark aspect ngl, or so that's how I felt it 🤣

Anyways, thank you so much for your patience!!! I really love it when I get sent songs that reminds y'all of Naoya and YN, ajgkhasjkghajksgas it adds depth to their relationship you know?

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

[ailendolin]

Live Reaction to TRoP 2x06

I have a feeling there will be no Elrond in this episode and my inner Durin is already crying over it

but my boy Arondir is here so that is good

probably not for the orcs, though

yep, told you so. Don't mess with Arondir. The way he sheathed his sword at the end? Absolute badass

oh that's Eregion on the map. Let's see if Arondir will make it there since no one else ever seems to manage to

I don't suppose that's a good sign there's a (admittedly cute) mouse in the forge

oh Celebrimbor is deteriorating so quickly. I just want to give him a hug and yeet Annatar off that tower

is this the episode where he will throw the hammer at Annatar? Ngl I am looking forward to that

the gentle music when Annatar is pretending to be understanding is making me so emotional because Calebrimbor needs comfort so badly and Annatar knows exactly what chords to play to make him think he is getting it

oh Valar, he is so tired. Someone get him out of there and please let him rest. Fuck, this episode is going to break my heart, isn't it?

I am LOVING the elves in uniform! Look at them! The way the colours blend together on their armour is so pretty

Malendol my beloved! Please join Camnir, Vorohil and Rían in my little collection of favourite minor characters who we will probably never see again (or, Valar forbid, see getting killed off)

omg he is so pretty and his voice! Aaaaah!

(this has nothing to with the episode but I am already seeing myself shipping him with Camnir for no other reason than that I love them both. This is not good. I need to stop getting attached to one-off characters)

Mirdania, I'm sorry, but you are grating on my nerves a little here

I'm loving the foreboding music when Annatar takes her hand

did you see the banners in the background? I want one of them and am once again asking Amazon: where the merch?

ah it's time for the Adar & Galadriel dinner scene. I didn't watch the clip that was released but I know people were screaming about it so this is going to be interesting

lol I see Adar is pulling no punches here and calling Galadriel out on her obsession with Sauron immediately. Good for him. Elrond would like you

Sauron promised her an army? Gal, love, he wanted to make you his queen

"Children." Nooooo what? Adar only ever wanted to be a dad. I'm crying

but oh this is so clever of him when he says Sauron's lies which must be extinguished becuase one thing I've loved about the show's portrayal of Sauron in season 1 is that he didn't lie to Galadriel. She was the one who constantly put words in his mouth

yes let the exes unionise!

oh he's got the stabby crown!

"The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride." Yep, Eregion is doomed

Elendil! Everyone's adopted dad's not having a good time right now

clever, Pharazon. But Elendil will never renounce Miriel

YES, I told you he wouldn't! Fuck you, Pharazon, that man loves his queen and will never serve you

Lol. "Snoring? Who's snoring?" Tom, I love you, but you are not good at giving pep talks

Poppy and Merimac :)

omg that's a long time to decide on a name. What were his parents thinking?

I repeat: Poppy and Merimac :) That kiss was so sweet

and look, Tom, Poppy is great at pep talks. That's how you do it

okay we're going staff finding. Is it ridiculous that for a moment I thought he might get his staff from the Stoor tree?

omg you're not throwing the Gandalf quote in there without warning, are you? My poor heart can't take all these emotions. It's such a beautiful quote and I guess this is one more argument in favour of the "The Stranger is Gandalf" theory?

Khazad-Dûm my beloved

look at all that gold. I'm getting Erebor flashbacks (flashforwards?) here, and not in a good way

Annatar, get the fuck away from Durin, I swear. Where the hell is Elrond? He would feed you to the Balrog in a heartbeat

"More precious?" Do not use that fucking word

oh, the answer is no? That's a surprise. I bet there's a catch

noooo, not the fucking Balrog in the flames. He's going to wake him up, I know it. Just look at his smug, little face

ah, there's the catch. Poor Durin

"No, you belong to it." Truer words have never been spoken

I see Durin is faring as well as Elrond when it comes to convincing loved ones that the rings are dangerous. They are truly besties even in that

oh no, he's crying. My heart. He's stuck in such an awful situation and I am so glad he and Disa are uniting over it instead of letting it drive them apart as well

those trumpets sound gorgeous

ah, Earien is beginning to learn that actions have consequences. Good. Her relationship to her father is so complicated. It feels as if they're always talking at each other, not to each other. And yet you can see how much they love each other in every painful interactions

Forehead touch! This is not a drill!

YES DISA! Show them! Oh I love her so much. Her secret weapon is bats! I wrote my PhD about bats and they have a very special place in my heart so go, Disa, I am rooting for you and your bats!

"I love you." The moment we were all Durin

of course MIriel is going to face judgement in Elendil's place. Those two love each other so much without ever saying those words and I'm so here for it

she is cradling his face. I can't

and have I mentioned how fucking brave she is? Imagine facing that sea monster and not even being able to see it coming?

damn but this is shot absolutely beautifully

please let her gain a new pet sea monster that is going to swallow Pharazon and Kemen for breakfast

fuck yes, "Hail Tar-Miriel, Queen of the Sea!"

i love the cracking reality effect of the Palantir

so Adar knows Elrond has Nenya now. That's going to have consequences, isn't it? Will he try to capture Elrond to get the ring so he can defeat Sauron?

okay, Adar came prepared. Good for him. Bad for Celebrimbor and Eregion

Glûg my beloved! I have missed you! Please don't get yourself killed in the siege

oh that call to war is epic

Malendol! Aaaaaah another glimpse of him! I am so smitten it's ridiculous

aaaaand the Siege of Eregion is on

aw no, don't destroy your sketches, Celebrimbor

omg Annatar is such a little shit. "How fares your progress?" That smile, I can't

ooooh fuck, Celebrimbor fighting back? Physically? YES!

oh no, it's a vision. This is so fucking cruel. Look how relieved he is that his people are well. This is also a reminder to us viewers how much life will be lost in the coming episodes. That this was a place of happiness, once

fuck, there's the hammer

and mithril ore? Are you kidding me?

the oath. And the thing is, he is right. It will be all about the rings

and there's that word again. Precious. It is haunting the narrative and I love that it is being used for all the rings because they are all, one way or another, a product of Sauron's mind

"Best Feanor himself." Celebrimbor, why don't you use that hammer and smack Sauron back to Mordor? Please?

and the illusion stops. The fact that Celebrimbor doesn't even know what time of day it is ... my heart hurts

also the fact that the last peaceful moment of Eregion we saw was a lie? That the last moment it gleamed in sunlight was nothing but a cruel trick?

*insert gif of Theoden* So it begins

the end credit music is making me sad. Who gave Bear McCreary the right?

seriously though, Charlie E deserves all the awards. His Celebrimbor is so heart-breakingly kind and so heart-breakingly flawed at the same time and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and hug him

two more episodes. Valar give us strength for what is to come

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[skylessknights]

FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN

A sociopath of high intelligence. Driven. Cruel. But strongly motivated by honour. He yearns to be hurt. He loves pain.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. talks of marriage. unprotected. breēding kink; crēampies. jealousy. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ not proofread; excuse the grammar. wc: 1.7k

“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k pure gold necklace he purchased just today, with his initials on it.

something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couln’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.

the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. the older man is grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him. you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy. you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully. “i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”

each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.

“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?” the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.

“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips. he switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.

a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is. he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.

“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours. he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”

satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.

he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.

“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock. his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.

satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”

you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.

“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure. you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.

the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘n give you some proper loving.”

satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.

you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.

oh, don’t get him started on kids. satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.

satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.

even if satoru ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.

your lover nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.

satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”

your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.

his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body. satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of y’rs. . .”

his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.

satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.

he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.

satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return. the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “cunt ‘s gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”

satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.

“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath. your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”

your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.

“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.

his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.

“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal. your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.

he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.

he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.

“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.

his wife and partner for life.

[screampied]

YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒

𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!

☆ CHOSO KAMO

probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.

choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.

“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”

his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.

again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.

oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can’t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.

in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’

and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”

so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.

“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.

mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”

with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.

“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.

“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”

“yes baby.”

“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”

you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”

“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.

although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.

stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.

“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”

“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.

this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.

his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.

“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”

“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”

“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”

“just give me a baby, daddy.”

“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.

and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”

such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.

with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”

“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”

“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”

he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.

“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”

“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”

“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”

his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.

with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”

☆ GOJO SATORU

he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.

gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.

he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.

“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”

he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”

“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“

“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”

so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”

so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”

and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”

[s0dium]

YOU'RE A PERVERT!!!

/ˈpərˌvərt/

a person whose sexual behavior is regarded as abnormal and lewd

Synopsis: How perverted are JJK men? What are their perverted tendencies?

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso Warnings: Voyeurism, Gojo uses a vibrator on you in public, cockwarming, fantasizing, public sex, dub-con, male masturbation, mating press, begging, blindfolding and restraining, breeding

Gojo Satoru

7/10 on the pervert scale

This man is full of kinks and thinks about sex quite often.

His kinks aren't necessarily abnormal but he can be obsessive

Has sniffed your panties and used them to jack off

A shameless pervert

Would be into blindfolding

The rich man he would invest in some toys and is a fiend with them

"Shit." You mumble under your breath, biting your lip to prevent any more sounds from bubbling up.

As you sit in the glossy, high-ceilinged conference room surrounded by the austere faces of the Jujutsu Society high-ups, you keep your head down, staring desperately at the floor as the toy inside you buzzes against your clit and your gspot. It's fucking unbearable. Across the table, Gojo sits, the picture of nonchalance with his trademark blindfold, his lips curving into a barely-there smirk that only you can decipher.

The vibrations of the toy are slow, most certainly on the lowest setting which you are almost thankful for. The sensation is like warm sunlight filtering through a window, gentle yet insistent. The dual stimulation of your clit and gspot has you practically gasping for air, it is delicious, slow, and not enough, not what your body is starting to crave. You can feel the thrum of pleasure at the tips of your fingers and toes, then spirals inward, igniting every nerve ending with a whisper of pleasure. The warmth expands, filling you to the brim, making your breath hitch unexpectedly.

Around the table, the meeting drones on, a background hum to the electric thrill dancing under your skin. You shift in your seat, trying to contain the heat that Gojo’s toy stirs within you. Under the table, he is most certainly playing with the remote, circling the buttons that could at any moment lead you to your doom. How did he even get you to do this in the first place? Each brush of your clothes against your skin turns into a caress, intensifying the sensations that you desperately try to mask.

The more you squirm, the wider Gojo's smile grows, though it never reaches his eyes, which are focused intently on you, enjoying the scene he orchestrates from across the room.

Your face flushes a deeper shade of red with each passing second, a silent plea for respite mingling with the fear of being discovered. The heat pools at the pit of your stomach, waves of pleasure cascading through you in relentless pulses. You clench your hands under the table, nails digging into your palm to anchor yourself to reality, to the droning voices discussing projections and quarterly returns.

But Gojo is relentless, you can practically hear the click of the remote that speeds up the toy inside you. You immediately jolt as if you have been electrocuted and you cross your legs to try and tame the ticklish pleasure coursing through you like a tidal wave.

"Everything ok Y/n?" Someone from across the room asks, and you feel everyone's gaze turn to you.

Before you can muster up the strength to say anything, Gojo cuts in.

"Oh she's fine. Just excited to be here isn't that right?"

Geto Suguru

6/10 on the pervert scale

Geto prides himself on keeping his composure intact.

But the man has so sick fantasies roaming around in his head

Behind a kind smile and hazle eyes he is mentally tearing away your clothes and fucking you on the desk you are sitting behind

Totally acts on these thoughts. Eventually he will find a way

Doesn't really care about what others think of him, which makes him very bold

He is less of a pervert and more of a "sex lover" if that makes sense

"Stay still baby, dont want anyone getting ideas do you?" Geto coos into your ear and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your self from moaning. Thank god you wore a long skirt today because if it was any shorter you were sure everyone would know you weren't just sitting on your boyfriend's lap. No, you where impaled on his dick.

You glance around, your cheeks heating up as you catch a few curious stares from nearby moviegoers. Geto seems unfazed, his focus calmly fixed on the screen ahead. You can feel your body instinctively squeeze around his length, desperately yearning for friction, but two big hands keep you secured on his lap preventing you from moving.

Geto's presence is both arousing and disconcerting as you try to focus on the movie, hyper-aware of every shift and breath. As the room darkens with the film's start, you attempt to blend into the dim anonymity, hoping the engulfing shadows hide your flushed face and the flutter in your chest.

Suddenly, Geto slightly bucks into you, so his fat tip presses against the part of you that you only dream about reaching with your fingers. As the waves of pleasure gently cascade through you, you press your lips tightly together, restraining any sound that threatens to escape. You force yourself to remain utterly still, despite the overwhelming sensations of his large member that tempt you to move. The restraint heightens every tingling sensation, each pulse becoming more pronounced, more insistent. Your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt beneath you, gripping tightly as you focus on the subtlest of movements—a breath, a slight shift—that could betray the intensity of your experience. The stillness becomes a challenge, a game of control where every fiber of your being is acutely aware, and every small victory in maintaining composure amplifies the pleasure silently swirling within.

"Doing so well baby, you sure you can keep this up?" Geto mummurs into your ear, nibbling on the skin of your lobe.

Choso

7/10 and for very good reason

Listen, the man has never experienced intimacy before.

So when he experiences sex for the first time, oh boy, choso is down for the count

he wants to try it all, do it all with you, to you

He's the type to think about stealing your panties or is tempted to look up your skirt but reprimands himself for it

"Come on baby just keep your legs on my shoulders. Can you do that for me?" Choso's breath is hot against your ear. "F-fuck please" he says through a groan. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind you would think that he was actually begging. And you were right. Choso swears his isn't a whimpering man but here he is, voice cracking from the vice grip your cunt  

You are too dumb to reply, only spurting outcries and whines about how good he was fucking you. Choso snapped his hips so fast that everything seemed like a dream, the bed was shaking immensely with the headboard banging on the wall and you were losing your mind from the friction of his dick against your walls. How long have you been in this mating press? How many times have you cummed? How many times has he cummed in you?

"Wanna fuck you every day,"  he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal brutal. "fuck fuck fuck," Choso swears, as he brings a hand to the back of your head and presses your lips onto his. Your so dazed you practically drool into the kiss, letting him entangle his tongue with yours until spit smeared on either side of your lips. He doesn’t slow the movement for a second as he kisses you, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

Suddenly, it hits you. Like an ignition of fire your brain goes white and you feel yourself ascend to euphoria.

“You gonna cum baby?" he coos into your hear, pressing light kisses on the hollow of your neck. "fuck, cum for me baby, please, cum on me."  Choso's hand flew between your bodies to rapidly rub your clit back and forth, hurtling you towards your orgasm. Your pussy tightens so hard around his cock that he nearly has to stop his thrusts. Your mouth grows lax as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“That’s it,” He fucks you through your orgasm, pouring every ounce of his strength into chasing his own high. His thrusts became sloppy, hips stuttering before he stilled his hips flushed against yours, burying himself in your creamy cunny.

“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”

Sukuna Ryomen

This is difficult, sukuna is not much of a pervert as he is a sadist.

So on the sadist scale, he is a 10/10 and the correlation with pervertedness would also be a 10/10 because of the wild things he does to you

He just loves to see you embarrassed and degraded. If that means fucking you in public so be it. If that means cumming on your panties and making you wear them so bit it

There isnt much he isnt open to (unfortunately)

You feel dizzy.

The soft fabric presses gently against your eyelids, urging them to remain closed. With your sight stolen away, your world narrows, funneling your awareness to the heightened sensations that begin to bloom from your core.

You whine at the feeling, squirming at the sensation of sukuna's fingers massaging your gspot. His pace his maddening, every curl of his fingers is so slow and exact, so much so your muscles tremble from the pleasure.

"Faster, faster please" you mewl, and you don't even need sight to know that there is a devilish grin on Sukuna's tattooed face.

"You feel good dont you? Poor thing." Sukuna chuckles.

The material encircling your wrists is smooth, almost silky, tying your hands behind you leaving them free to roam but only so far. As the pleasure builds, coiling tightly within you, the lack of sight only deepens the mystery and intensity of each contact, each sensation. You're adrift in a sea of touch and sound, each wave crashing over you with more pleasure than the last.

"So pretty, I love it when you're desperate, god," Sukuna groans and he leans in close so you can feel his breath against your ear. "You're making me so hard baby."

Your hips buck up when you feel the pace of his fingers quicken. The fiction is delicious and his digits fill you so much better than your small ones ever could.

"Want me to fuck you?" Sukuna purrs and you desperately nod in response making him chuckle. "Look at you, of course you do."

[natti-ice]

being completely obsessed with him stretching you out

18+ mdni

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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he’s always been very well endowed, when you first started hooking up you realized he’s much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before- at first it was intimidating, until you found out how much you love being filled up by him. He gently runs his tip up and down your slit, making you whimper as it gently grazes your clit, he lets out a pleased hum as he watches your reaction. “Easy baby, I’ll be gentle I promise- stay still for me” you try so hard to ground yourself, gripping onto the bed sheets as you anticipate his entry, you could feel your arousal dripping down to your ass. He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly slips the tip in, immediately his girth starts to stretch you, you always gasp softly no matter how many times you’ve done this it still feels like the first.

A deep groan rumbles through his chest “shit, you’re so fucking wet for me sweetheart.” your eyes shut as the pleasure washes over you, he slowly pumps into you adding a little bit more of his length with each stroke until he’s all the way in. You can feel every detail of his cock against your walls, you’ve never known such bliss before- you didn’t even want to cum, you wanted to stay in this moment forever.

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[slttygeto]

SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K

જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.

જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k

જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.

When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.

“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.

Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

[cntloup]

Fem!Reader Simon finds out about your obsession with his hands

"what are you doing, love?" he asks, his voice laced in an amused tone as you trace your fingers along the various bulging veins that run across his hand and travel all the way up his muscular arm.

you place a soft kiss on the back of his palm, then a second one on his wrist, moving higher, planting open-mouthed kisses on the scars adorning his skin, your lips lingering on each one, your warm breath fanning against his skin.

and he shivers at your touch, your tenderness towards him... even after all this time, feeling the love and adoration that immerses your tender heart bleed through your lips onto his skin, the love that burns so brightly, seething more and more every day.

and he cherishes every bit of it, absorbing all your love and warmth that you show him in your own unique way, collecting every single piece and keeping it safe deep within his heart which he now feels flutter and melt at your tender touch.

"they're beautiful, si... your hands, all of you... so beautiful..." you whisper over his skin, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. and he closes his eyes, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he savors the moment.

you kiss his shoulder and tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet, yet flaming kiss, your kiss setting his heart and soul on fire, the roaring flames engulfing him as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you impossibly closer.

your body goes limp and you nearly melt in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, yet so gentle and comforting, so warm, electrifying as if he's touching you for the very first time.

you softly moan into his mouth as your lips dance so smoothly against one another and you wrap your arms around his neck and swaddle his waist as you settle on his lap.

"touch me please, si." you whine breathily against his lips, craving his touch so fiercely. he smiles into the kiss and his hands begin to roam across your back, leaving a trail of flames in their wake.

his hands travel to your front, softly caressing your beautiful skin and moving higher to your breasts. he cups them in his large hands, rough and calloused skin massaging the soft flesh, making you mewl and whimper as he slightly squeezes your boobs.

his fingers flick your perky nipples, causing a surge of thrill and arousal to run through your core. "fuck! i love it when you touch me like this!" you murmur with a content dazed smile, lost in a blissful fog as his rough hands stroke your body so good it makes you almost drool with delight. he only smirks and goes on kissing and touching you just how you like it.

[bunnis-monsters]

Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!

Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?

Sexy time with the fancy man please!

A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!

It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.

Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.

So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.

“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“

He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.

“… I’ll take all of it.”

You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.

This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.

It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.

What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.

They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.

But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?

Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.

You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.

It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.

“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”

Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.

“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”

His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.

“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.

“So soft, gods what a beauty…”

It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.

His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.

You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.

Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.

“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”

He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.

“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”

Part 2?

———————

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[asilentsongbird]

Neuvillette pines for you.

Furina learns to avoid him simply so she doesn't have to hear about whatever thing you've done lately that Neuvillette is obsessed with.

The ache is so deep in his soul it almost hurts.

The rain comes in a downpour sometimes. To match the wetness on his cheeks. Though sometimes he can't tell if it's the rain or his tears on his face.

You find him like this one evening. An umbrella tucked under your arm as you find the Chief Justice on the shore, head bowed and completely soaked.

"Monsieur Neuvillette?" you ask softly, coming up behind him. Your umbrella is just big enough to protect him from the rain. "Are you alright?"

He turns to you with shock on his face, tears still running down his face. A thousand thoughts race through his head, everything from did you see him crying to why in the world are you out in the rain?

A soft, gentle hand touches his cheek. It takes him a moment to realize it's your hand, the softest thing he's felt. Instinctively, he wants to lean into the touch. So he does.

"Are you crying?" your voice is soft, concerned, without the barest hint of judgement he so easily passes on to the players of his court.

The umbrella is shoved into the crook of his arm, and another hand reaches up to join the other. You cup both of his cheeks, though he has to bend slightly to allow you to do so, which he does so easily.

"There," you murmur, brushing your thumbs under his eyes. Your smile is so soft, even softer than your touch. "You have beautiful eyes, Monsieur Neuvillette. I hate to see you so sad."

The rain stops suddenly, as though someone has turned off a switch in the sky itself. His cheeks are dry and the sky is clear, and before he can say a word, you're looking up at it instead of him, still smiling.

"The rain stopped." You sound so happy about it, he almost feels bad for making it rain. You press the umbrella further against his hand.

Your touch feels warm. Inviting, and soft. Everything about you feels soft to him.

"Keep it for next time, okay? I'd hate to stumble upon you wandering through the rain again. You could catch a cold!"

He clears his throat softly, trying to figure out words. He's pretty sure words didn't exist before you started talking to him, and now he's floundering over them like a child.

"Allow me to walk you home," he finally manages, as though he didn't stumble over words for the first time in his life.

You smile, and link your arm through his own when he offers it. The sky above you two hasn't been this clear and blue in ages.

Perhaps, after he finishes walking you home, he can figure out how to finally ask you to dinner.

But who knows, really. After all, if he cries again, will you touch him as softly as before?

There's only one way to find out.