yeehawbrothers - Tumblr blog

yeehawbrothers · 10 hours ago

Text

The Watchmaker

Newly employed as the assistant to a renowned watchmaker, you soon discover how deeply his obsessions run.

Warnings: 18+, boss/assistant relationship, mutual longing, loss of virginity, fingering (f!receiving), nipple play, hand job (m!receiving), creampie, gentle manhandling (consensual), breeding hints, gentle period-drama Nanami snippety-snaps and becomes unhinged, two desperate people getting far too sexy over timepieces and pots of tea

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

It was unusual for a lone young woman to be lodged and apprenticed by a single man; and, yet, it came to be, when you alone passed the Watchmaker's interview.

You approached on dry cobblestones, to a handsome, deep shop, with glossy black and gold railings and doors. Your corset felt heavy with the city's summer humidity; the river held the heat like a simmering pan, and its heady stench threatened to consume you. You were used to being without a chaperone, but your modest dress and poor accompaniment drew more wayward glances in this part of the city.

You hurried into the shop, a brass bell above the door tinkling your arrival. Nobody came to greet you. You followed the voices to the back, the eyes of many timepieces following you, their ticking as whispers and gossip in your wake. You came, in time, down tiled steps to a workshop, warm and bright and full of men...naturally.

A single, cursive note graced a sign before the only remaining workbench.

Repair the clock.

Such meagre instructions for a sought-after job. In golden lamplight, a pile of cogs and a loose-handed clock face glimmered like dragon hoard. You cast your eyes, stroking your corset and heavy skirts. You nodded once, and reassured yourself, only once.

"You can do this."

The Watchmaker, a tall man whose broad shoulders and thick hands did not suggest one with a delicate touch, neither agreed nor disagreed; he simply watched, silently observing you like the many faces of his timepieces. You set to work before your audience. The Watchmaker came and went, seeking to observe the half-dozen men competing alongside you.

And, in time, half a dozen sweating young men failed one, by one, by one. The Watchmaker's disgust was apparent, and his sneers soured one, by one, by one, until the last young hopeful curdled like milk before him.

When the Watchmaker came to you, you and your box of gold were not at your station. He frowned, kept company only by muted ticks and tocks. He followed your trail, out to his walled garden.

The test would have been considered a 'trick' only by those who were angry that their lack of respect for precision and accuracy had been identified. You, who could not fathom such sloppiness, found an honest solution.

"A sundial?" The Watchmaker rumbled. You felt a rush of heat from fingertips to toes, untouched by such a voice before. Smoothing your skirts again, and finishing your adjustments to hide the heat in your cheeks, you nodded.

You had fashioned your clock face and myriad small clock pieces to form a glimmering sundial. You had positioned it just so, and confirmed its position with the time shown on your own, battered pocket watch.

The Watchmaker circled you, with narrow eyes that may contain humour were they not so scrutinising. He was impeccably tailored, you noted; a high, crisp collar and rolled back white sleeves revealed enough throat and forearm to make you sweat. An exquisite navy waistcoat nipped his waist only marginally more than his tied apron, and he hummed at your sundial.

"Not what I'd call accurate."

"I disagree. While it may not be very precise, it is accurate. The cogs for the clock couldn't be set in such a way as to make the seconds correct. They were always just out. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

He almost smiled; his eyes certainly did. Nodding, and not one for hyperbolic praise, he bowed, instead.

"Nanami Kento. I would be privileged to offer you the role as my apprentice."

The earth formed a springboard, launching you to heaven, and it wrenched the breath from your lungs on the way. Checking yourself before you babbled over with incredulous tears, you choked out an answer on a sloppy curtsey.

"Even though-- even though I'm a woman?"

A scoff. "I don't see how that's relevant."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Mr.Nanami sought your constant presence.

A natural timekeeper, himself, he sought the company of those like him, who would not expect him to partake in social niceties and small-talk. It was no wonder, then, that he became a Watchmaker, whose many-natured but predictable friends had only the same face twice a day.

While Nanami Kento was normally at peace in ticking solitude, the many hands and ceaseless seconds had eventually, as the years went by, begun to grind into an aching loneliness.

You felt it, as summer crisped to autumn, and frosted to winter-- his desire for your company. The way his obsession bloomed to include you alongside his timepieces. The way he lingered in doorways while you handled the customers' repairs. The way he seemed breathless when your smile sent another happy patron on their way. The way he would flinch if you brushed past him.

And god, how it burned you. Eyes downcast in reverence could not remain so for long, so magnetised were they to him. His silences were rarely cold, but rather, simply those of one who held his tongue until he had something to say; a far cry from the men you knew, who sought to usurp the monarchial peace through vocal domination.

Learning such craft at Mr.Nanami's thick, calloused hands, required intimate proximity; he would have to lean around you, at points, with his chest to your back. He moved your hands within his, teaching you the dexterity needed to repair a tiny watch with surgical precision. He leaned like this around you now. You could barely breathe.

"You were not wrong. Though not strictly right, either," he murmured in your ear, his breath grazing over your cheek. His hands held the tools in yours, using your body to perform miracles. You felt faint, flushed, hot against his body, and breathed a shaking breath, quiet in your frustration so as not to disturb the sleeping cogs.

"I want to be perfect, I-- I need it--"

An amused hum, used to your angry tiny mechanics. "You are perfect, thank you. Now let us make the pocket watch match."

As your hands worked in tandem, and another impossibly tiny cog found its home, you gasped in delight, relieved, and not thinking.

"Ah, yes, Kento, we--"

Mr.Nanami stiffened behind you. You backpedaled.

"Ah-- I mean, Mr.Nanami-- I'm so sorry--"

He did not seem upset, though his ears reddened as he stepped away from you. He murmured again, unused to being perceived.

"No, no-- it's quite alright-- I use your given name, after all."

With his face flat but his eyes alight, when you looked up at him in wary apology, he sought to reassure you with a smile.

"Really, please-- please do call me Kento."

"It feels...wrong."

"I...would not seek to make you uncomfortable. It is entirely of your preference."

Your heart drowned out the whispering whirrs of the room. You heard the tap of Mr.Nanami's feet as he ascended the workshop stairs, and blurted out.

"--Kento, I'll...I'll call you Kento. Please."

A pause. Another silence. Kento's voice tightened with something altogether more intimate.

"I fear I shall get used to it far too quickly."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Too long were you lingering in your respective doorways, before bed. Too sweet, were the shared evenings in a firecrackle sitting room. Too electrifying, were the hands that met to pour just one more cup. Too intentional were the slim-eyed stares that burned down to the very bones of you.

If you died, and committed your body to science, the ghost of you would be unsurprised if a surgeon found Nanami Kento's name scored across your ribs; for nobody else could access that cage to your heart and soul.

Nobody else could warm you, during Winter fairs on the frozen river.

Nobody else could take your hand, to help you down the stairs at the Timepiece Exhibition.

Nobody else could still you with a look, or teach you with such few words, and this was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--

Your peak hit you in a burst of static. You clasped your hand over your own mouth, as if it would sell you out for your filthy crimes. Still, you arched in your bed, your toes curling against the sheets, bucking up into nothing in waves. Clarity did not hit you after, for it had already hit you during, and had done nothing to still your fingers.

Rolling over, and pressing your face into your pillow after the ecstasy had passed, you held your breath. It was too quiet.

Your eyes sprung open. The muffled bustling you had heard from the bedroom next door, had stopped. You weren't sure when. The silence was deafening...until movement started again, more clipped than it had been before. You could feel him, moving with irritation, a prowling beast in a cage.

It was over an hour before Kento's own hand travelled down his belly, to grasp himself with whispered curses and pleas of your name. Long enough, he hoped, for you to be asleep. Long enough, he hoped, that he could hide this rampant obsession that was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I should think I'll be home for tea. Inspector Aberline's grandfather clock again. It has stage fright, I fear, for how often the Inspector stares at it."

Kento's words, from hours before, rolled through your mind again and again. The smile you had sent your final patron of the day on his way with, slipped away, for you saw the lamplighter beginning his rounds on the cobbles outside. The sun had already set; he was late, tonight. You'd have offered him a lantern, but without Kento beside you, you felt you would need its warmth and light more.

Your eyes flickered to a package on the desk. It was imperative, Kento had said, that this was delivered to the customer today. 'Today', as a concept, was growing increasingly more abstract as it threatened to expire.

You saw the increasingly dark circles under Kento's eyes, in your mind's eye. He had not been sleeping well. He needed the rest. You could not bear to see him overburdened.

Taking a deep breath, and undoing your apron to replace it for your heavy coat and gloves, you tucked the package under your arm, locked up to the tune of the tinkling bell, and stole away through the night like a thief in the dark.

Clacking across cobblestones, and trying to diminish the noise of your boots upon them, you walked for what felt like miles. Though you were sure you were safe, in this part of the city, the darkness turned shadows into beasts of great renown.

Spring-Heeled Jack stalked you from the shadows. You clutched the package closer, walking faster, breathing harder--

"What the hell are you doing out here, at this time of night?"

You squealed, and flattened against a red brick wall. Kento, imperious and huge in a heavy brown overcoat, glowered down at you with unbridled rage.

"The package," you squeaked, brandishing it as a shield, "you said-- said it needed to be delivered--"

"And it is not your place to take it upon yourself to do so. Returning to find you gone, out delivering a bloody package, while there's a killer on the loose? Extraordinary." The coldness that Kento reserved only for others, now directed at you, was a bitter sting.

Still; Kento held out his arm, stiff. His lip curled when you did not immediately take it. He grew frosty as he waited, and you slipped your arm into his, to a mollified grumble.

"Come," Kento rumbled, arresting you in a hold so intimate against his side, "let us not waste a journey. The customer isn't far from here. It shall give you time to think about your foolish choices."

You felt furious tears prickle behind your eyes. Like a dog with a bone, Kento struggled to let his anger go, and you snapped up at him, "Give it a rest. You're not my husband--"

"--yet, if it would allow me any sort of say over your safety, perhaps I should be your husband." Kento had frozen, looming over you. Your belly twisted, your face hot. You turned aside, chastised like a child.

"I'm no girl," you whispered, venomous, "I can take care of myself--"

"In a world that places no value on women, why should you ever feel safe? Out here, instead of in my--"

It was Kento's turn to redden. His jaw clenched. His fingers tapped upon the package. You felt righteous anger bubbling over, and rolled the dice, in a stabbing final gambit.

"In your what, sir? In your workshop? In your arms? Or in your bed?"

Kento's stony impassivity was tested, but remained steadfast even against your snapping. But you knew him, now; you saw how his chest hitched, heard his knuckles crack, and caught the faintest flare of his nostrils. Ducking his head for a moment, and dramatised by lamplit shadow, he stepped in just once to whisper above your ear.

"You forget yourself. I am your mentor, and you are my assistant, and--"

"--and I've had enough of you pretending that's all we are--"

"--and it's hard enough not bursting into your room at night when I hear your fingers drag my name from your mouth, so if you will be so kind as to cease and desist, I will not have to press you against this damn wall to hold your tongue with my own."

His hissing reproach doused the argument with ice water. Numb-footed and stunned, you walked through treacle, as Kento dragged you to deliver the package. Your chest was still thickened by mortification by the time you approached the Watchmakers' familiar iron railings.

You found yourself pressed inside, hearing the door bolted with force. Kento's hands softened as they removed your coat from your shoulders.

"Bed," he snapped. Kento turned his back to you to light a waxdrip candle. White shirtsleeves billowed from the shoulders of his waistcoat, and he checked his pocket watch as if it would give him the answer. You reached one hand out, to bunch in the back of his waistcoat, as if a child, and he snapped again.

"Alone."

You flinched. You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You swallowed hard, rolling the dice again.

"I hear you, too. In your room at night. The walls are thin."

"So is my patience, young lady, I will not tolerate--"

"You treat me like a girl to distance yourself from me, but pleasure yourself to my name? Please. You can make a fool of yourself but don't make a fool out of me--"

Kento spun with a growl, lifting you by the waist to drop you upon the counter. You squeaked, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself when he closed the gap between you.

"Do not act as if you know," Kento whispered, low and slow, "what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring. Do not act as if you know what it means to be reduced so, that I must spill myself onto my belly every night, to preserve your virtue.

I do not blame you, naturally-- it's my burden entirely-- but if you add one more ounce to my shoulders with that incorrigible little mouth of yours, I'm afraid your virtue shall be...under threat."

You couldn't deny the heat pooling between your thighs, now, trapped as it was by Kento's taut body. You couldn't deny your craving for such fabled bliss.

"How does it feel," you whispered, your hand creeping up the buttons of his waistcoat to stroke the sill of his cravat, "Kento? How does it feel? Do you use your hand, or--"

An agonal little choke broke past Kento's high collar. His eyes begged you to stop him. You felt his long fingers twitch on your waist.

"Do not ask me--"

"Please," you whispered again, just as desperate as him, "please, I need to know, I can't keep living life in the dark--"

"My hand," Kento choked out, his chest barrelling with the weight of his breaths, "I use my hand. But even in the dark, I can't seem to convince myself that it-- that it's--"

You felt him falter, and you begged him, your tugging loosening his cravat enough to see his throat bob behind it. Kento whined, begging in kind. His face twisted, as if the thuds of pleasure lengthening his cock were hurting him. The torture was sweet; you felt it, too.

"Don't make me say it," Kento pleaded, nose to nose and nuzzling from side to side, "I can't take it--"

"You can-- you can take me--"

"--you don't know what you're saying--"

"--I do, Kento, please--"

"--don't know what you're sacrificing--"

"--you wouldn't," you pressed, feeling his hands moving against his wishes to unbutton the back of your dress, "you wouldn't sacrifice me, I know, so just--"

Kento groaned, a sound so sinful, just to feel your dress release and slip down over your shoulders. Pinching the ends of your sleeves, with his fingertips grazing your palms and inner wrists until you shivered, he pulled. A gossamer shift of white ghosted over your skin.

"So many layers, upon a lady," Kento murmured against your lips, "like unwrapping a gift."

He sounded drunk, and the honeyrich pools of his eyes had darkened. You couldn't pinpoint the moment his resolve had crumbled, but crumble it did, with the tick-tocking eyes of many upon you. Kento grazed his fingers against your lips, ordering in a whisper.

"Open." You didn't have to, your jaw already slack as promise burned you at the edges. Kento swiped his thumb and forefinger across your tongue with a groan, and reached out, snuffing the candle between them.

What dim light there had been, died. None that breathed would hold court or witness to what Kento was about to do to your virtue.

"This will not happen only once," Kento murmured against your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you until you mewled. He cursed to hear it, becoming more unhinged by the minute. "I will take your maidenhood as a lover, but take your hand as my wife. You cannot refuse."

You could refuse-- you knew you could, in absolute safety, but such refusal would take his mouth from you with immediate effect. His hands would cease their insistent glide up, and up, beneath your skirts. He would stop rutting forwards against nothing, with each whimper that left your lips. He would no longer drag your bodice down with his teeth, to suckle at the plump swell of your breasts.

You nodded, breathless, your hands shaking against the buttons of Kento's waistcoat. He grunted as it fell open, and your hands settled upon his waist. His graze against your neck was more insistent, now, and sloppier; hungry, open mouthed kisses that suckled the salt from your skin. Occasionally, you heard him murmur, begging to you, or to his god, or to himself, for any sort of release.

Overtaken by need, you finished unbuttoning his trousers, and tangled your fingers in his hair, instead.

"Don't know what you're doing," Kento mumbled, drunker by the minute, "going to ruin you, I-- I'll ruin you-- I'm no sensible size for a virgin--"

"So you suggest I find some other man?" You panted, "You suggest I find someone smaller--"

"They don't fucking deserve you," Kento spat, forcing the last of your skirts up to grind himself at your core until you whined. With your corset untied, Kento tossed it to the floor behind him with disdain, and yanked the final layer down to free your breasts.

Shuddering, he gripped his cock to restrain himself.

"Divine," Kento whispered, ducking to nuzzle against the tips of your breasts, "I have to-- please allow me to--"

Without waiting for an answer, Kento lapped your nipple into his mouth with a groan. Suckling until you pleaded his name, with hot bursts of pleasure to your core, Kento's hands reached the crest of your thighs, and groaned to find more layers in the way.

"Buy you some more," he grunted against your breasts, gripping the fabric between strong fingers to shred it apart, "my apologies-- now, just-- oh, fuck, I--"

His fingers had slipped between your folds to glide through them. Needing to see you arch against the sudden intrusion, Kento pressed you back until you were lying on the counter, and loomed over you. You caught sight of him for the first time in minutes.

Kento was utterly dishevelled, unabashed, and too far gone. With his cravat and waistcoat hanging loose, and a long, thick swell beneath what remained of his unbuttoned trousers, he looked more debauched than your wildest fantasies. He twitched with the spurt of pre-cum that left his cock, to see you spread out before him.

Sniffing, and dragging one hand back through his parted hair, Kento scoffed at your look of glassy-eyed wonderment. His fingers curled through your lips until that sought-after arch graced his eyes, and you mewled again, your thighs clamping around his hips

"More than one of us can be reduced to a beast," he growled, circling your clit with calloused fingertips, "as you have insisted. I've taught you with these fingers before. Let us teach you something new; how it feels to peak upon the hands of a man."

"--o-oh god, oh god oh god--"

A bark of laughter, "--he won't help you now--"

"--oh, sir--"

"Try again."

"K-Kento!" You chastised through blinding pleasure. Kento chuckled again, intoxicated and made ruthless by it, and holding you flat by the belly as his hands worked miracles on your core.

"That's it-- good girl--"

The way he praised you had always brought you to a blush, but how he growled his praises while he fingered you to completion was another entity entirely.

Your hips rolled up, trying to fill the emptiness that his fingers alone couldn't. Your body was rendered base with pleasure, and nature's insistence that such passiveness should be used to leave your belly full of seed.

You could see that, too, in his eyes; an urge; a hunger that belied his gentle nature. In sudden clarity, you understood his cry of agony, from mere minutes before: 'Do not act as if you know what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring.'

"--K-Kento, I-- I don't know if I'll-- it's too much, aches-- augh--"

Your approaching peak threatened to overwhelm you, and you squirmed and begged, though you knew not what for. Kento pinned you, with one splayed hand on your belly, and whispered you on.

"That's it-- don't be afraid...shhh, now. Good girl-- that's it-- beautiful--"

You came with thigh-clamping bursts of ecstasy, so sharp and static by the hands of another, that your belly ached and cramped with the force of the spasms. Kento's fingers slowed, massaging the pleasure out of you at length, though you could feel his body growing heavy with the weight of self-restraint.

You felt yourself twitching, crunching forwards involuntarily, with little more than broken whimpers and cries as he talked you down. Though, as clarity dawned in supple bliss, you felt he may be trying to talk himself down.

"...good...that's good, that's enough, I...I am satisfied, I..."

Kento lied to himself so exquisitely, as if he didn't palm his cock with one trembling hand. As if he hadn't pulled his shirt off to relieve the prickling heat of his skin. As if he couldn't kiss you because that, oddly, would be the intimacy that broke the dam.

You broke it for him, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his neck so he couldn't rear away from you. He tried, at first, with a grunt of surprise, gripping you by the waist. Feeling your lips against his rendered him dumb again, feral and nuzzling his nose to yours, like an addict in a field of poppies.

"Please-- I'm afraid I won't-- won't be gentle--"

"Bed," you whispered against his lips, "not alone."

Kento groaned again, cupping his hands beneath your thighs to lift you, and carry you up the narrow wooden staircase. He knew every shoeworn step in the dark; knew where the corridor dipped; knew the amount of steps between his bedroom door and yours, so many times had he paaaced between the two.

With his curtains un-drawn, only the cold winter moonlight lit the room. Meticulous, uniform possessions left meticulous, uniform shadows. The whole room smelled of Kento; of soft wax, leather and musk. In his room, in his arms as one leg flicked the door deftly closed behind him, felt like being brought home.

"If I show you how," Kento whispered, laying you on his bed, just to stalk you slowly up to his pillows, "will you...can I..."

You'd have said yes to anything. Without knowing exactly what Kento asked for, you nodded. He saw the absolute trust in your eyes, and stiffened, his eyes darkening with something more profound than need.

"Do you know what physical love entails?" He rumbled, nosing against your neck again, and depriving you of the first kiss you so desperately craved. "Do you know what it is, to be taken?"

You swallowed hard, feeling lead weights in your still twitching belly. You cursed the society that had sought your submission through ignorance.

"We...are supposed to fit together," you whispered, to Kento's satisfied rumble. Stil, it was not enough; you knew he would not continue past his insistent suckling of your throat, if you showed true ignorance, so you mumbled past your blushes.

"You...press yourself inside me, until...until you..."

"...go on."

"Until...you finish, like--like--"

"...like you did, on my fingers. Except, your completion simply fills my soul...metaphorically speaking. My completion fills you literally."

Your hand had trailed down his bare chest, reverent at his form, so different to your own and witnessed before only in fine art and statues. He didn't stop you as your hand trailed lower. He simply fixed you with a stare, that was half hope and half despair.

With rising breaths, you looked down between your bodies as you freed him. Animalistic relief twitched across Kento's shoulders, for the release from his confines. He groaned into your throat, husky in a way that made you throb. You longed to see his pleasure as he had seen yours.

Tentative, you grazed his length with the barest fingertips. Rigid, woody, hot, velvety, wet at the tip and so long and--

"Oh," you breathed, gripping him and feeling his heartbeat through his sex, and utterly unsure what you had expected, "feels...good--"

Kento breathed harshly, and had dropped onto his elbows above you, his face twisted in agony. He panted, fractious.

"Don't-- do not--"

Your hand flinched away, horrified for having hurt him, and he cursed, rolling off you to sit, strewn and messy and barely dressed, against the head of the bed. Your eyes fixed again on his manhood, heavy and twitching against his belly.

"I won't touch-- I'm sorry--"

"Don't stop," Kento emphasised, breathless, "don't...dont stop."

With a flush of heat in your cheeks, you understood the nature of Kento's agony, and it only made you hungrier. Crawling over him in the barest white undergown, to straddle his thighs and sit upon them, you reached out to grip him with one trembling hand again. Kento arched, moaning that rusty, desperate moan again.

"Show me? Like you do in...in the workshop."

"Gods, your hand is so sweet--" With his own hand, big enough to engulf yours, he wrapped around your grip to his length. Slowly, deliberately, and watching where your hands clasped around him with sweat on his brow, Kento used your hand to pump himself.

Feeling the glide of silk on iron made your core wetten and clench. Watching how Kento moaned, bucking into your joined flats and reaching up behind him to grip the pillows, was hypnotic. Within seconds, your hand had begun to move independently of his, stroking him with raw determination to see more of his unravelling.

Kento groaned in time with your rhythmic strokes. His newly freed fist bunched, instead, at your hip, having rucked your slip aside to dimple shaking fingertips in the plush of your curves. You began to squeeze a little tighter at the tip, twisting a little, and making Kento see stars.

"Hah--haaaaah-- don't-- don'tstop-- better than any dream-- good girl, please, please--"

Your thumb swiped without warning across a bead of wetness that had seeped from the slit in his tip, and Kento swore, bucking hard enough to make you chirp and grip his thighs for purchase.

"--wait--wait-- I'll spill in your hand, wait--"

This didn't deter you; if anything, it spurred you on to faster and faster strokes. Kento writhed, sweating and gripping, and you watched the heavy balls beneath his length tighten up, and--

"--ungh--coming--don'tstop...unh--"

Kento's whole body tensed. His face fixed in divine ecstasy. You watched his length jerk in your fist with thick, warm plugs of sticky white seed. You stared, your new obsession making you want to stroke Kento's release between your folds, but you held him instead, feeling him rut into your fist to chase his high.

After what felt like a lifetime, Kento came back to earth, with a heavy chest. While lax, for now, something in the way he looked at you, kneeling above him and examining the way his release dropped down your forearm, told you he was barely sated.

"Always were a...a fast learner."

"Well, you always wrote me off as a child--"

"I did not," Kento huffed, a mortified, angry flush colouring his cheekbones, "I knew exactly the woman you were. I do not lust after girls. If I didn't separate you, I knew I would...I knew we would..."

You nodded. You had both fought to convince yourself against such inevitability. Pondering, and curiously disappointed in the aftermath of Kento's pleasure, you stroked his slippery length in your hand again.

"You're...still hard."

Kento's eyes flicked down, that animalistic hunger taking seed in his eyes again. When he spoke, it was low, and barely measured.

"It would not usually, but-- but feeling you above me, so close that I could flip you over and trap you beneath me, I--"

You felt your breath leaves your lungs at once. Kento winced, disgusted with himself, but you snatched it away before it could take root.

"Please-- I want that, please--"

"With all this seed, and more to come after I bury myself inside you, you will be with child within days," Kento spat, gripping your cum-slick wrists to stop you stroking another orgasm out of him. Kento froze; having been about to throw you off, he saw the look in your eyes. The look of willingness. That sheer determination that had taken you as his apprentice in the first place.

"You like that," he mused aloud, enraptured as you lifted your undergown away to reveal yourself in your entirety. With your wrists gripped in one broad hand, the other stroked down between your breasts, to settle, stroking, on the soft plush of belly just above your mound.

"You...like that? The thought of a part of me, growing inside you? The thought of me spilling myself so deep, it has nowhere to go but your belly?"

The thought made you lightheaded. Why? Why was the thought of the same sticky release that coated your hands, inside you instead, so alluring? Beast in fine tailoring a beast in fine tailoring a beast--

Kento rolled you over. The strength you always knew he had, carefully restrained by waistcoat and pocket chains, bore down upon you now. He kicked away his trousers, desperate to be as bare as you, and brought his sheets over his hips to bury you both in a warm little den. You shivered to feel his length rest on your belly and mound, so close to where you wanted him.

Kento shook his head, trying to see logic, "If I finish inside you-- you really will be in danger of bearing my child, you..."

His voice had faded, gobsmacked as you stroked your seed covered fingers between your folds, mulish and clipped.

"There," you snipped, "I've already covered myself in you, so that's that--"

"You are utterly feral, this is what I get for bringing a guttersnipe into my workshop--"

"--so you might as well just finish the deed, sir, because--"

Kento laughed, overjoyed by your fearless audacity. His lip curled, and he reached down again to stroke his sticky seed between your folds.

"You think that's what I meant by inside?" He pressed, so close to the entrance you had never sought to penetrate, "You think I meant here? No, my love...I meant here."

You squeaked to feel Kento press one thick finger at your entrance. You felt the briefest sting of resistance, felt yourself clench and buck. Kento stopped, and pressed a first kiss to your lips, so sweet that you rushed through a wildflower meadow in summer.

He stroked circles just inside your entrance, loosening you with the slick of his seed, and kissing you with an intimacy that felt so much more than all the sordid deeds you had stolen from each other so far.

"And when I say 'here'," Kento continued, his breathing getting heavier, "I meant deeper. Much deeper than my fingers could reach. In truth, I would rather break your maidenhood with my cock, than my fingers. Some...filthy little part of me, I think. I loathe it. But, since we are well past being dishonest with each other..."

"Want that, please--" you babbled, squeaking with the promise of being filled with the rod you felt dragging on your belly, "--please, do it, I need to know, need you--"

"You beg like you mean to corrupt," Kento grumbled, pressing a little harder against your entrance and shivering as you squeaked, "I was a good man before this...I think. Shhhh, shh shh...that's it...soften you up...good girl."

"Not a girl," you gasped, your voice breaking and your nails digging into Kento's shoulders. He laughed, a full, rich, deep laugh of genuine delight. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his fingers were replaced by his cockhead.

"You are right," he rumbled, nuzzling his nose to yours again, "you're certainly not. At least...you won't be, in a moment." Nose to nose with you, and whispering into your mouth, Kento pressed insistently forwards, "Hold onto me."

You did, feeling a brief sting, and stretched and stretched and stretched and--...full. You whimpered, bringing your legs around Kento to embrace all of him to you. He grunted, and gasped, pulled to bottom out within you when he had meant to take you slowly. You clung him inside you as he moved to pull out, and begged, afraid it was already over.

"Nonono-- don't come out-- stay--"

Kento bucked into you involuntarily, and groaned a godless sound, arching up and gripping the headboard, white-knuckled.

"Got to-- got to move, to-- to finish...but at this rate--Christ, you'll kill me-- god, can't-- can't finish straight away like a boy--"

If the pleasure of being locked into the warm, wet drag of your pussy hadn't almost taken Kento to the edge, the way you looked up at him with glassy adoration would. He moaned again, another certain stepping stone to damnation.

One more glance at you had Kento planting one forearm above your head, and plaiting his fingers with yours upon the pillow. He gasped, trying not to take you too roughly, and finally, whispered again.

"Hold onto me."

Smooth, and fluid, and with the barest scraps of self control, you saw stars to feel Kento drag his cock back to your entrance, only to fill you again. You felt the thickfriction drag, and its bursts of odd, belly-deep pleasure than rendered you oddly submissive. You revelled in it; drugged, and sighing, your eyes slipping closed.

The drunken animal in Kento had returned in force.

"...feels...weird...good--- don't stop, Ken--"

"--sh-shit, won't last-- I'm sorry--"

Kento watched you in wonderment. Whatever pleasure your ripe core gave him, could not compare to that given to him by your face; your mewls, and sighs, and whispers.

You couldn't seem to whisper his name, though; it tasted so sweet upon your tongue, that you could not bear to let it go.

You could feel Kento losing his ragged self-control. Watching your face, the plush bounce of your breasts, and the way your thighs spread against your belly every time he fucked into you, was an otherworldly delight. You took it; gladly. Your pleasure built strangely-- deeper, and more powerful, and yet not quite enough.

Your fingers sauntered down your belly. In your addled, fucked-into state, you barely noticed what you were doing. Kento noticed, though, and growled, a droplet of sweat dropping from his forehead between your breasts. His thrusts deepened, harder and faster and desperate for orgasm.

"F-fuck...just like that...just like you do at night-- my name--"

"Ke...Ken--"

"My name."

"Kento," you half-sobbed, lost in his promise to fill you with the sticky cum that had dropped down your hand, "please--pleasepleaseplease--"

"--the begging, fuck, I'm-- I'm done, I'm-- ungh, fuck--"

You knew Kento must be finishing. You felt him twitching, and jerking, within the snug gripping heat of your cunt, ruined by him as per his promise. You felt the curious warm spill somewhere deep inside you.

You knew the look of bliss upon his face. Your fingers, still rolling the remnants of his seed around your clit, moved faster and faster and faster--

You arched, seconds after Kento's own peak had begun, into your own. You heard the headboard crack under Kento's grip, heard the rhythmic, fractured moans that may have been his and may have been yours, too lost were you both in oblivion.

The world may have completed one full turn. Struggling to hold himself up, Kento shook, dopey and half-asleep after filling you as he had threatened. You locked him within you, and held him like a lead blanket, nuzzling into his throat.

"Just...stay there. Stay. I like it."

"That feels...indecent," Kento mumbled into your neck. His uncharacteristic colloquialism was winding back again, and you felt the clipped man in the waistcoat and pocket chain returning to earth. You whispered, to his devilish laugh.

"How are we supposed to make watches together after that?"

"Carefully. Very, very carefully. As husband and wife."

"...oh."

514 notes · View notes

yeehawbrothers · 10 days ago

Text

soft!Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7 - pt. 8

Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Why is it, that just when things feel as though they are looking up, life starts to throw new challenges your way?

You had felt like a free bird coming home from work, the slimy bastard you used to have as a superior was not only fired for misconduct, but likely facing a court hearing.

The air was crisp as you pulled into your driveway. You felt flushed, you heart had been thumping wildly ever since you pulled onto your neighborhoods street. You would say you didn't know why, but deep down, you knew the truth.

You were excited to see Toji.

In the past, you would feel anxious and worried before interacting with people, but this erratic beating of your heart was not panic, no, you were elated.

You had begun to look forward to seeing your dog-sitter every day. On your lunch break, you would share texts back and forth. It was hard to believe that at one point you had been so nervous in conversing. And that he had been so dry.

| [attachment: 1 image]

| little twerp

| got mud all over me.

The photo showed a very flattering photo of a very muddy man. You stared just a moment too long at how his jeans gripped his thighs before responding.

You two must have been playing pretty hard out there.

He certainly looks like he's having fun

Behind Toji in the photo was your dog, panting with a smile on his face, ears flopped in a windswept way, staring at the man kneeling in front of him.

| that makes one of us ig

You giggle in your office chair, swiveling slightly as you scroll back up and save the photo.

Oh please, you know you love him.

This playful back and forth would have never happened months ago, but the two of you had grown closer, and you no longer felt the need to tip-toe around the man. A friend to your dog was a friend to you. He had very good judgment.

| that's what you think.

He leaves a "thumbs down" on your message. You smile, checking the time, and swiveling back to your desk. You could hardly wait to go home. But this time, not to get away from work, but to come back to a friend.

You reply with a quick,

Boooo

And set your phone down to get back to your documents, a warm feeling had spread throughout your chest and you couldn't keep from grinning. If anyone saw, they would probably think you quite strange.

The drive way had patches of wind-blown snow clumped up, it was clear that Toji had shoveled your driveway. You would have to scold him for that.

The sweetheart.

A spring in your step, you pull into your garage, locked up, and entered to the greeting of your favorite little man.

"Hi, baby!!" You smile, as the large dog wiggled excitedly at your arrival.

Toji came around from the kitchen, it appeared that he had cleaned the mud from his jeans and was comfortably in a pair of sweats that he probably brought to work out in. His hair was messily tossed.

"Warm welcome for the little vandal." He leaned up against the doorframe, grinning, and you knew he couldn't care less about the jeans.

You stand up straight, "He means well...." Your hands go to arrange your hair, looking for something to do.

"Suuuure he does." Rolling his eyes, he makes his way close to the dog, who circles him mischievously. The man smirks, scratching the dogs back end. "You look happy." He meets your eye.

"Yes." Your shoulders come up and you sigh heartily. Despite the cold infiltrating your nose, ears, and fingertips, your heart was warm. "I got some very good news today."

"That so?" He has a teasing tone, but you know he couldn't expect what's coming so you just grin.

"Mhmm." You spin to remove your coat. "Somebody I particularly dislike has been taken from my team at the office." You chuckle, trying to extract your arm from the sleeve, "Permanently!"

Toji comes around and gently lays a hand on your shoulder. He grabs the waist of your coat and lifts the weight of it off you, tugging the sleeve free from you. "Well, that certainly is some good news."

The man never made any great show of expression but you could tell he was happy for you. Honestly, he was grinning from ear to ear at the news. He had a small sense of pride that his action brought about that smile you wore and even more, that you had no idea it was him. Yet, here you are, sharing it because you wanted him to know.

As Toji removed your coat, he had a warm feeling spread throughout his body from the furnace of his heart. He felt sure of himself. He felt content.

There was once a time when he lived to serve others at the expense of himself. It had damaged him to a point he never thought he would recover from. He never knew he could go back, to feel normal again. It was strange, to crave you in this way, to crave serving you. He could close his eyes and imagine tying your shoes, opening your doors, carrying you up flights of stairs.

And you wouldn't expect it of him.

You saw him as a person. He knew you did.

So why is it, that when things begin to look up, a new challenge pops its ugly head? Rears him into questioning every little surety he had been feeling.

You were at work when the man rung the doorbell of your home.

It hadn't even been a week since you had been freed. Coming home glowing from the news that had spread throughout your office. It had barely been any time at all where Toji could feel that he fit with you, before an issue arose.

It was mid-afternoon, and you wouldn't be home for a couple hours, Toji had just come from walking the dog when there was an expensive car pulled into your driveway.

Not your car. A fierce-looking man stepped out.

He was wearing a pristine three-piece suit, his hair was pulled back in a way that showed confidence in his own face, and he walked with distinction, stomping up the front steps before ringing the doorbell.

Your dog always took great interest in delivery workers or landscapers at the house. Especially if they were men, Toji knew this so he wasn't surprised when the big guy wasn't too happy at this man's arrival.

The dogs nose was going into overdrive to try and smell the man through the cracks in the door, Toji pulled him back and stepped out into the chilly air.

"Anything I can help you with?"

The man just stared at him. Speaking no words. Just a mock up and down.

"Do you need something?"

Toji knew he didn't look much like the typical demographic in this neighborhood, he had gotten some looks from the neighbors, he had walked to the opposite sidewalk when he spotted a women, he had avoided walking the dog passed sundown.

It was still unappreciated to be appraised in this way.

Toji was just about to turn back inside when the man spoke. "Are you the owner of this house?" His tone was full of disbelief.

Even the way he said it sounded hostile. Of course, he was right, this was not his house, but tone and intentionality were everything.

"No, the owner isn't home right now, would you like me to take a note?" He grinned at himself, feeling like an assistant answering the phone. The man before him did not laugh.

"No." He took a step closer, "Is that your dog in there?"

Toji turned to where the man pointed through the tall windows beside the front door. The dog often disliked strangers lingering around the house, but only then did Toji notice how he growled and snarled at the window.

He had only once heard those noises from the dog.

Toji stepped toward the man, closing the distance.

"He's not. Do you need something?" He repeats.

"Are you the cleaner or something?" The man looked Toji up and down once more, he had a disgusted scrunch in his nose.

Toji felt dirty.

He did clean, he never minded either, though this man clearly thought it a laughable job.

"I watch the dog. What business do you have here?" Fed up. The finality in his voice came more clearly. He was accustomed to disrespect but with the dog panicking like this, he would very much like to send this classist bastard on his way.

"Are you aware that the beast in there attacked my dog?"

"...What?"

When you received the call from Toji you were just entering your office after finishing a meeting. He sounded shaky and weird. He had called you home, saying there was someone at the door who demanded to speak with you in person.

You had insisted he tell you what was wrong. You swapped out your shoes for a pair of flats, snatched up your laptop and notebook, and left the office early.

For very likely the first time ever.

Despite the cold and snow, Toji was determined to not allow the man into the house. He would wait for your return. And when your car pulled into the driveway, you got out, slammed your door, and passed the stranger on your property to check on the man who had sounded so different over the phone.

"Toji, what is happening? Are you okay?"

"You own this house?" Came the man from behind you.

"I'm fine-" Toji started to respond, before being interrupted. You turned around, the wind blew its way beneath your clothing and chilled you.

"Excuse me. I have waited very patiently for the owner of this property. If that title belongs to you I would ask you to put your maid inside so we can discuss this as civilized people."

It was not even the use of the word "maid" but the absolute vitriol within the way he spat it at Toji. You were furious.

"Yes. The house belongs to me. What exactly did you need to speak with me about?"

The man before you was quite a bit larger than you, you felt angry at his representation of your dog-sitter, implying he was not 'civilized' enough to be included. You wanted to send Toji inside so he wouldn't see you upset like this, but he remained close to your side.

Completely ignoring you. The man turns to Toji. "This business is not yours."

Toji put a hand on your shoulder and was about to step in front of you, but your hand covered the back of his. "It's alright, Toji, go inside, try to calm the dog."

"Why are you here?" You looked the man up and down. It was difficult to find anyone intimidating in the cold, the body's natural instinct causing us to curl in on ourselves. This man did not curl, no he stood tall, saying nothing. He held up his head until Toji had turned and left to comfort the howling animal inside.

"Many months ago, that beast you have in there-" He points through the window where Toji stood watching. "Mauled my dog." Your brows raised at this. "His veterinary bill was very high. He also happens to be a working mutt and due to the injuries your pet caused to his body, he no longer can fulfill his duties."

Your eyes narrow. Trying to recall. He couldn't be speaking about all that time ago. Back then, it had been your dog as well as Toji who had been attacked while out on a walk. Even so, that was the only explanation that made sense.

"That isn't the account I heard." You explain. "In fact, what I heard was that the attack that happened to my dog, if that was your pet that was involved, it was in no way instigated by him." You point back to the window that was fogged up but still showed a visible outline of who you were talking about.

The man scoffs. But you continue, "My dog had been on a leash at the time of the attack, it wouldn't make sense for him to have started anything. If, in self defense, your dog sustained injuries, I would be willing to cover the cost of the bill-"

You were being generous. The attack had been a devastation to you. Back then, you recall Toji explaining that a Tosa Inu had run up on them. He had explained that not only was that breed a common fighting dog, but often raised to be particularly violent and vicious.

The man bursts into laugher. It sounds cruel. "Oh no no, you have the wrong idea, sweetheart." At his use of the affectionate term, you make a face as if you tasted something sour. "I'll tell you what's going to happen." His tone lowers and his lip twitches, "I'm going to take you to court." He steps near to you and you back away. "I've been talking with animal control for weeks now. Your mutt is gonna be put down."

What?

Words fail you. Your throat goes dry. Your nails dig into your palms and when you open your mouth to try and speak, only a cloud of warm air escapes.

"Dangerous dogs are on the rise, you know. It's only taken this long for any court hearings to arise because no human was involved."

At this, your voice suddenly finds you.

"But there was someone involved!" You exclaim, "Toji was involved and your dog bit him! Y-you can't do this-".

The man grins and nearly doubles over with cackles. "That bum?! Who cares," He spits, waving a hand nonsensically, "You really think his word would hold in a court of law against mine?" He grins, all teeth, and for some reason, a chill crawls up your spine. And it wasn't due to the wind.

Your fury flared, lowering your voice you speak, "Don't you call him that." You step his way.

"Tch." He rolls his eyes, "Listen, that beast in there put my work horse out of commission. Fairs fair." The man began to take meticulous steps toward you. The closer he came, the more you felt the need to back away. Suddenly his hand was gripping your shoulder and you tried to pull back but his grip was painfully latched to you. Leaning in to whisper, his hot breath juxtaposed the wind in a nauseating way, his words only made the panic worse. "Better say goodbye to your pooch, he won't be around much longer. I'll make sure of tha-"

You had lost all other auditory senses, all too focused on this man's spitting words. His hand gripping your shoulder, and the implications of what he was saying were too consuming. You hadn't even heard the front door slam, or the hurried steps of Toji as he yanked you back by the torso, grabbing the man's hand and crunching his fingers.

The cracking of his bones pulled you from your dazed state, bringing you back, feeling Toji pulling you behind him. "Keep your filthy hands off her!" He growled.

The man made a pathetic "Nngh-!" groan in his throat, attempting to pull his hand away from Toji. Bending his knees even to draw away. Toji did not let up, however. "Y-you-you scum!" Eventually, he let the man's hand go and watched as he fell to the ground with a loud thump. His expensive dress shoes slipped under him a few times before he found his footing again and shouted, "You won't be so smug when you see me in court."

Toji only had to take a step in his direction before he was fumbling back, tripping toward his car. Covering himself in icy white snow.

"What was that?" Toji bent down to look at you properly. You were still trying to understand what had happened. Toji put his hands on your cheeks, looking in your eyes. "God, you're freezing. Come inside, come here."

He pulled you along gently into the house. When you entered the door, your dog leaned his whole weight on you, whimpering.

You collapse to the floor.

"He's gonna kill him Toji, h-hes gonna k-kill him..." You wrap your arms around your dog, the animal seemed unsure of what was happening but distressed all the same by your behavior.

Toji rounded on you, wrapping you in one of the blankets you kept in a basket by the foyer. He holds your shoulders, feeling them shake. "That won't happen. It won't." He called out to you, sensing your despair, "I need you to tell me exactly what he said. Can you do that for me?"

Just when you had started to feel the weight of everything a little less. Just when you had begun to allow pretenses of excitement. Just when you had begun to crave the charm of someone in your life. It all came crashing down.

That had been three days ago. You had taken off work to be able to focus on building a defense against the prosecutor attempting to prove your dog as dangerous. Toji had insisted on pulling in help.

Never before had you allowed someone to sit on the other side of your desk, to work with you. This, however, was appreciated. Toji even made efforts to get help from some "friend" of his.

These days you couldn't sleep. You couldn't eat. You felt as though everything was crumbling beneath you. One thing was certain to you and that was that you couldn't allow this to happen.

Unbeknownst to you, Toji was more determined than ever. He had heard you that day, he had heard you stand up against that man twice your size. He had heard you come to his defense as well. It had caused something to become very clear in his mind. Something he had been intentionally clouding.

Toji was not the type to hide what he was feeling, but in that moment he knew. He would do anything to prove himself worthy. He would give anything to win your affection. And right now, that meant handling this situation.

Possibly unearthing a part of him he had thought he had put to sleep, but if thats what it took? He would do it happily. The craziest part is, he wasn't doing this to keep his job, he wasn't going to do it to be in your good graces, he wasn't even going to do it because seeing you cry caused him physical pain.

No, he knew that he had grown to care for you and your puppy these past months, as much as he wanted to hide it, he hadn't felt like he belonged in a "family" in ages. He wouldn't let it be ruined by some filthy underground businessman.

He would fix this. He would help those who had come to his defense. He would make this right.

And when he spent that night together with you at your house for the first time, looking over court filings with the dog he had come to adore snoring in his lap, he felt that determination only grow.

Looking up at you, wresting an elbow on your office desk, he saw that you were nodding off while writing. As much as it pained him to wake the animal so comfortable in his lap, he forced himself up slowly. Tucking his hands under your documents to gently request you go to bed.

Unwilling to hear any negations, he simply held a hand up and told you that you would work better well rested.

You ran a hand down your face, finally deciding he was right.

Before you went to bed, standing, the two of you in the dark of your living room, without any waking creature to see but you three, he ran a silent knuckle over a tense spot in your neck.

"Sleep well." He whispered.

A shiver passed through you. You nodded.

He was just about to make his way to one of your guest rooms when a stitch ached at his heart. With your tired expression being the last thing he saw, he decided to turn suddenly and call your name.

You hummed and he gave you one more fixed look.

"It's gonna be okay."

And you could only pray that he was right.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

@Sweetpo1son @scorpiosugar @starmapz @toruswrld @your-mum3000 @meow-satoru @animeblr @utarts @roxyyyyy1xx @lilming36 @scandibabeuh @atanasiaaaa @chouzuko @voronii @transsfish @h3llf4iry @lucrea @straewberrysoda @s4m4nth4wrld @storiesbyparadise @pokiona @neiostrike @breenatalle @uwolivia @gothic-fluffycow @luvvmae @justbelljust @voidshoutsback @chaotic-ish @jamzywiththejam28 @definitely-not-leena @kirawyd @kuro-chi69 @smoments @lukabwrry @esmedelacroix @professionalreblogger @yoongluverz @stainednailpolishremover @nappingmoon @lauretsy @noelssprings @bytgefirewbook @koji-ibitsu @wafflefries786 @bearchermer @p1nkfl0wers @sugojosgf @deafeningherofishcash @yeehawbrothers @wil10wthetree @youcantseem3 @poopooindamouf @miakxn @esggs @makosworld @neeshsoodrippedout @momoewn @mooncleaver @avocadomochi @getoisinnocent @femmefatal @lov3vivian @grima4lurking @lemonlimecrystal-blog @icedemon1314 @karolinda007-blog @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @inthedarkshadows000

tag list is sadly full! If you ever want to be taken off of the tag list, please just let me know :] (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either because your blog is new/blank/empty where you need to check your privacy settings.)

478 notes · View notes