#Every time they flirt in his presence he makes those faces.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Stop flirting and start fighting

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[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[mirkoluvs]

★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[sttm99]

Bakugo falling for a 'popular' girl.

Sometimes Bakugo felt stupid for falling for you. Not that there was anything wrong with you, or that you weren't up to standard. Quite the opposite. Quite frankly, you were out of his league.

You were one of those crazy pretty Management Course girls that had boys and even girls falling at your feet. You were so used to being hit on and flirted with, it was like you were desensitised to it.

He'd held open the cafeteria doors for you one afternoon, much to the amazement of his friends. They gawked as he stood near the door, holding it open for you and one of your friends, and instead of receiving some blushy words of appreciation, you just muttered a dismissive thanks and walked through without sparing him a glance.

He stood there for the next few minutes, fists clenched by his side, head turned down with wide eyes and red cheeks, whilst Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero guffawed.

Then he looked back up in your direction, and watched as some random boy literally ran over to pull out your seat for you, and another had even gone to get your food tray so you wouldn't have to.

He paused.

Was that what he was competing with?

How would you ever notice him if every other boy in school practically worshipped the ground you walked on?

He began brainstorming, with the help of Kaminari, because he was considered to be the more romantic one of his friends.

"You just keep proving why I was right to call you Dunce Face!" Bakugo yelled at his blonde friend, cursing at and dismissing every single idea he'd been given.

"I think Kami's actually got some good stuff, Bakugo. You're just picky." Sero defended.

But of course Bakugo was picky. This was you! He'd watched you, studied you, despite how creepy that sounded. He knew the things you'd scoff at and scorn, and he knew the things you wouldn't even bat an eyelash at.

"You're all idiots!" He yelled at them and stalked over to his room, slamming his door shut behind him and pacing the space.

It was later that evening, that Kirishima had pulled him aside and told him to just be forward with you.

"Just go talk to her. Like, actually talk. Not opening the door, or pulling out her chair and expecting her to fall at your feet. It doesn't work that way."

Bakugo contemplated it, turned the idea over and over in his head. He nodded at Kirishima's words, deciding that would be what he would do.

He wasn't some blushy boy that couldn't get any words out once in your presence, and he wasn't some entitled brat that thought he deserved your favour for doing the bare minimum.

He was better than all those idiots. And he'd show that.

The next day at school, he caught you on your way to lunch, stopping you and asking for your time.

"Sorry," you began, your pretty, fake smile making its way to your lips as you looked at him. "But I'm really in a hurry right now. Maybe later?" You said softly.

He knew that wasn't true. It was a tactic you used, the same sequence of words you gave all the boys so as to avoid stupid confessions like his.

But he was better than them.... he'd show you.

"Please," he said, resisting the urge to bite at his lips at how uncharacteristic of him this was. "I just- I want to ask you something."

You sighed softly, looking at the girls by your side and urging them to walk forward. They did, but not before offering Bakugo sympathetic smiles, as though they knew you'd reject him, as though they knew he'd come out of the conversation with a broken heart.

"What is it?" You said to him, one hand on your hip and your weight on one leg. "I really don't want to miss lun-"

"One date." He blurted out quickly, wanting to go through with it before any nerves caught up with him. He wasn't used to this; asking girls out, flirting, courting. He'd never participated in the stupid, juvenile acts of romance with his peers, when everyone was just realising that the opposite sex wasn't all that disgusting.

He didn't know how to do this, but he wanted you, badly.

"A date, huh?" You said with a slight smirk, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead.

You could admit the blonde haired boy standing before you was attractive, very much so; with wide shoulders and bulky arms, and a sharp jaw and intense red eyes.

That, and he was Katsuki Bakugo. A student notorious for his refusal to indulge in romance with his peers, considering himself above it, and finding the whole ordeal to be a distraction from his goals. That driven, obtuse boy was standing here asking you for a date.

It swelled your ego just a bit.

He nodded. "One date. I-"

"You do realise that you asking me for a date doesn't exactly make you stand out from all the other boys." You cut him off with bored eyes.

He almost gapes at you.

"They all do this, ask me out cause they think they're better, or different from the ones that hold the door and pull out my chair. I reject them. All of them. Why shouldn't I reject you, Bakugo?" You ask.

He steels his resolve, taking a step to you, almost dwarfing you in his height and mass. He's big, and he knows it.

"You know my name. Do you know the names of those shitty idiots that drool over you?" He raised a brow.

You scoffed. "Even if-"

"You should know that I'm never one to play games. I don't believe in wasting my time. I want to spend it with you..., because I like you. Even if I don't know you all that much, Yn. One date. Let me prove it. That I'm worth it."

You stayed silent for a moment, a little smile tilting your lips upwards. "A restaurant date... cause you're making me late for lunch. So the good stuff will be gone."

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and throaty. "I'll give you anything you want, Yn."

You smiled at that. "Really?" You teased.

He took another step to you. You could smell his cologne now, could see some of the little blemishes on his pale skin.

"I'll give you everything. Whatever you desire."

You nodded smugly. "I like that. Good."

"So...?"

"When's the day?" You smiled up at him coyly.

"Saturday. I'll pick you up at 8?"

You nodded. "Alright then. See you Saturday, Bakugo." You offered him a small wave as you walked past him, making your way into the cafeteria.

[qingxin-dream]

“In Spite of Thorns”

summary | all you needed was a bit more color in your life. something to make life seem not so dull. little did you know the wallflower of a florist next door found himself in a similar dilemma. (art credits: @/MNCE_o on twitter)

warnings | profanity, pining, reader is a horrible flirt, reader gets a tattoo, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, semi-public sex, reader receives oral, face fucking, edging/orgasm denial, mention of cervix-kissing, breeding

genre | florist!kuni au, fluff, slow burn, smut with plot

word count | 5.2k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a little flower shop next to your regular morning coffee joint that always caught your eye.

On your way to work, you’d often sit outside the tiny cafe downtown and admire the lovely bouquets sitting pretty in the windowsill next door. You imagined a sweet old lady running such an adorable business, the type to water her flowers early in the morning and know every person who walks through her door.

Much to your surprise, there was only one person attending to the shop—it was a young man with short indigo hair that framed his face and trailed down the back of his neck in soft wisps. You noticed he kept to himself with a stoic expression most of the time. You caught him once switching the flowers on display, it was the only time his face revealed a glimpse of emotion—something deeper and more meaningful than silent indifference.

The city was a place often devoid of the beauty and tranquility nature can offer. It was easy to get lost in the hum-drum of daily life and the grind of your 9-to-5 job, overwhelmed by a concrete cage of skyscrapers. It was frankly depressing when you had those rare moments of self-realization.

So, in an attempt to get a breath of fresh air one morning, you decide to visit the flower shop just a block from your work. The bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter, suddenly surrounded by a sea of beautiful flower arrangements kept in pristine condition. In the back stood the young owner, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence as he focused on his next bouquet behind the counter.

You couldn’t believe the level of detail and craftsmanship in each display, traveling slowly through the store in wonder. Perhaps it is what kept people coming back to this place despite his cold demeanor. He is an artist, there’s no doubt about it.

The sound of wrinkling plastic interrupted the young man’s work as you approached the register, setting down a small arrangement of daises in front of him. He grunted, giving you a slightly annoyed glare, quickly ringing up your purchase.

“It’s $10, even,” he says blandly, already looking back at his little flower project on the workbench impatiently.

You oblige without a word, awkwardly glancing around and silently noting his name badge which read ‘Kuni.’

“Your receipt,” he snatches the small paper and hands it to you.

“Thanks, Kuni. Have a good one,” you attempt to break the ice, but the young man has already turned his back to you to continue putting together his next artwork. A bit dejected, you leave with the daisies in hand. Maybe that was stupid.

You kept the tiny bouquet of daisies on your desk at work. Just having a bit of greenery was enough to lift your spirits when the day would take a turn for the worse. They were so delicate and cute, it had you tempted to visit the flower shop again. It was on the way to work anyway, why not?

At least, that was your excuse. I mean, you couldn’t deny that the young florist was easy on the eyes, despite his thorns.

Slowly but surely, you developed a new morning routine. You had become a familiar face to Kuni, the grumpy and closed-off flower shop owner. Around 7:30am, you’d walk into his humble store with a coffee in hand from the cafe next door, greeting him with a small “good morning.” You’d often casually wander around the store, asking about flower species or meanings to his arrangements.

It took awhile before Kuni was willing to indulge much in conversation. Typical responses came in the form of an eye roll, a scoff, or quips about having something better to do under his breath. Though, if you asked the right question, Kuni would occasionally come around the counter to help.

You swear it was like watching a flower bloom in real time with the way Kuni’s entire expression melted softly when he spoke about his arrangements. What once was but a shy sprout became a beautiful swirl of petals, full of life.

Kuni would reach beside you, awkwardly brushing his arm or his chest against you on accident. He would take the bouquet you were curious about and present it to you with subdued pride, caressing the blossoms. Colors, shapes, lengths, petals, ribbons—everything had significance and Kuni loved to teach you the nuances of his passion.

The days were beginning to feel like they pass by quicker. You woke up with a new reason to roll out of bed, lured by the taste of your usual miel coffee and the sweet aroma of flowers.

The chimes of the doorbell eventually had Kuni slightly jumping out of skin when you strolled through, a faint flush of color on his cheeks. His gaze would follow you intently from the corner of his eye, a small smile adorning his lips.

As an artist, he possessed an incredible attention to detail, picking up on your name that was scribbled on the side of your coffee cup; or how you carefully waded through the rows and rows endless flowers with curiosity crinkled on your cute brows. He discovered that your favorite color is blue. You like cream but not sugar. You love rainy days. You avert your eyes before saying hi.

Kuni soon found himself keeping note of these little details in his small notepad, though you simply thought he was scribbling business to-do’s.

Every other week or so, you’d need a new set of flowers for your desk and Kuni was content to offer his personal favorites. He quite enjoyed these mornings with you, as other customers typically visited around lunch or after 5pm to gift flowers to their spouses or loved ones. He’d never openly admit how you managed to melt his cold exterior and warm his heart as time passed.

You learned more about each other as the seasons changed and naturally became good friends. You were more than a regular to him. He found himself interested in hearing you talk about your day. Tell him about that terrible work meeting or the prank your coworker pulled on your boss. Who are your friends? Do you have a pet at home? Anyone significant in your life?

Kuni wanted to know everything about you.

There came one day that you approached him with a mischievous smirk on your face. He eyed you suspiciously, taking off his gloves and folding his arms over his apron. You had trouble written all over your face.

“Morning, Kuni,” you approached the counter immediately, interlacing your fingers together around your coffee cup.

Something is definitely up with you. He raises an eyebrow, finding your unusual mood to be amusing. “I have a feeling you have something to say.”

“Indeed I do,” you couldn’t help yourself, grinning widely with excitement brimming in your eyes. You looked like you were going to burst from laughter. “I need your expert opinion.”

On cue, he rolls his eyes at your adorable antics. “Well? Out with it.”

“I want a tattoo,” you confess, the enthusiasm you were feeling a moment ago now shifting into embarrassment for some reason. You had worked up the courage all night to ask for Kuni’s advice, imagining a hundred different ways it could possibly go. It was too late to take it back now.

“A tattoo? You’d be the last person I’d expect to want something like that,” Kuni deadpans with a hint of confusion and condescension. “Why do you need my opinion? I think you look just fine without one.”

It’s not that he disliked tattoos. The florist simply appreciated your natural beauty, and didn’t want you to regret permanently marking your body. It seems you weren’t entirely as incorruptible as he initially thought.

“I just want to try something new,” you sigh, pursing your lips to express your dissatisfaction. You held your breath, tapping on the side of your coffee cup before adding, “I’m plain. And boring. I don’t even have a piercing.”

Kuni frowned. He had no idea where this self-loathing behavior was coming from, but he was determined to snuff out any reservations you had about yourself. “You’re pretty just the way you are, (Y/N).”

You refuse to accept that answer, shaking your head. “C‘mon, you don’t think I’d look cute with a small tattoo? Something tasteful. Not even a flower tattoo?”

“I mean—it’s hard to imagine you with any tattoos,” he replied before finally relenting his distaste with a noncommittal shrug. “But I suppose, if anything, a flower could only make your skin lovelier.”

His mind was already turning its gears, wondering what spurred this sudden desire to change. He lamented the idea of you being unhappy with yourself. If this is what would make you smile again, then Kuni resolved to support you as any friend should.

“Good, because I figured my favorite florist could pick out a flower for me,” your eyes sparkled playfully, waiting for his reaction.

Putting his hand on his forehead, Kuni huffs and slowly runs his palm down his face as if he is annoyed. Truthfully, he was hoping to wipe the warmth that quickly flooded his cheeks completely off. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him a flustered mess over you.

He runs a free hand through his hair, sighing softly. “Why not roses? Everyone does that.”

Your bottom lip poked out in a pout at his answer. This isn’t the response you expected at all. You didn’t understand him sometimes. Groaning, you dramatically tilt your head in momentary frustration and take his hand in yours, pleadingly.

“Really, Kuni? That’s the most cliché shit ever,” you grumble, though it’s more like a whine as you give him puppy eyes. “I’m being serious. What comes to mind when you think of me?”

The question is innocent enough, but feels like a punch to his gut—stealing the breath right from his lungs. If only you knew what you were asking of him.

Every day he imagines you walking through the door of his flower shop, a pretty smile on your face and a cup of black tea in your hand just for him. He would thank you softly and take your cheek in his warm palm, leaning in to kiss you before the store opens. His fingers would trail down your neck, his thumb nudging your head to the side to give him easier access to that sensitive spot on your neck, lips parting and ready to taste the desire on your skin.

He had to stop himself.

“What about… peonies? It blooms beautifully—a huge blossom with a strong, sweet fragrance.” The florist clears his throat after a brief pause, nervously searching your expression. If you were keen, you’d catch the tips of his ears burning bright pink. “An unmistakable flower that can convey so much… in less than a few words.”

Kuni happens to pull a red peony from the flowers he has scattered on his workbench for his upcoming arrangement, hesitating for a second before extending it sheepishly to you. You’re too caught up in the moment to notice how the dainty flower trembles slightly in his fingertips.

It’s perfect. You bring the peony to your nose, eyelashes fluttering up at Kuni appreciatively. He swears his heart skips a beat.

“I love it,” you exhale, offering the peony back to him. You feel invigorated, elated even, to have found a subject for your first tattoo. It had to be something meaningful, and naturally your first thought was Kuni. “Thank you, I promise to stop by to show you when it’s done.”

Before the lovestruck florist could say a word, you were running out the door, bells chiming at your departure. He held the red peony to his nose, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

It had been a few days since you stopped by, which was unusual.

Kuni tried not to dwell on it. You were a busy person and, of course, had your own life outside of him. He shouldn’t be upset that you suddenly ghosted him, yet he can sense a dreadful feeling crawling into his heart.

The doorbell rings, but the young flower shop owner doesn’t bother to see who entered. Of the hundreds of people who have visited his store in the time that you’ve been gone, none of them were you.

He turns to the counter to water a few flowers, his gaze flickering to the customer, and he can’t stop the way his jaw slowly drops. Standing a few feet away at his newest bouquet display is you all dolled up in a pretty little sundress that stops at your mid-thigh and hugs your figure nicely.

Most notably, your dress has an open back which reveals a plethora of peonies inked down the curve of your spine in an elegant and minimalist design. It’s utterly gorgeous.

“H-hey,” Kuni speaks up, sounding lost as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. His expression was beyond adorable, simply starstruck.

You glanced at the florist from over your shoulder, snickering since he accidentally let his guard slip more than usual. You cover your mouth, giggling at him, “Kuni, I think you’re overwatering the flowers.”

“Shit,” he curses to himself, immediately putting down the small water can on the counter with a light splash. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to drain the pot. “Where the hell have you been, by the way?”

“I took some time off work, sorry,” you admit, but really you were more interested in showing off the final product of your new tattoo. You happily twirl around in your tiny sundress and strike a goofy pose, the frilly ends spinning hypnotically around your upper thighs. “So…?”

All of Kuni’s irritation with his embarrassing mishap washes away as he watches you excitedly spin around, flaunting your curves and the work of art now inked on your back. He smirks and mutters quietly, “I think I like peonies a whole lot more now.”

You brush your hair to the side so he can see the full tattoo. “Haha, come look at it then!”

His heart fluttered, quickly taking off his dirty gardener’s gloves to take a closer look. Every step towards you made his mind race and his breath a little shallow, you were stunning if he was being completely honest. He felt even more attracted to you with such an amazing work of art spanning your back, and to top it off—he was your inspiration—just as you were secretly his muse.

Without thinking, the florist’s fingertips lightly brush your spine in silent admiration. You immediately tense and gasp at the unexpected contact.

He snaps out of his thoughts and recoils in horror. “Sorry, sorry. I-I wasn’t… I, uh…”

You laugh and smile in understanding. “It’s fine. You surprised me is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet, he was still compelled to continue tracing the contours of the raven-colored ink over the surface of your soft skin. You said it was fine. You were okay with it. He was overthinking it, right?

“C-can I ask why, of all people, you wanted me to pick your first tattoo?” Kuni was still trying to make sense of everything in his head. He was secretly terrified that he was projecting his own feelings onto you, and masked it behind a playful smile of disbelief.

“Well,” you brushed your hair back over your shoulders and finally turned to face him. Your sundress was just as cute in the front, Kuni smiles to himself. A faint blush dusts your precious little cheeks. “I think I’ve adopted your affinity for flowers. Saying everything while saying nothing at all... it’s poetic, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to get a tattoo just for me,” Kuni joked to make light of the situation, throwing in a faint grunt of disapproval and an eye roll. He was sure you picked a flower just to appease him since he was originally against the idea.

In reality, he was more than touched by your thoughtfulness.

There was a peculiar glint in your expression that the florist couldn’t quite place. He felt drawn in. You took a petal from the newest bouquet on display between your index and thumb, caressing the soft blossom.

“I mean, your flower arrangements are always so beautiful, and you handle them with so much care,” you trail off, staring at the bouquet with an indiscernible emotion. Then, in a whisper followed by a smile, you continue, “Maybe I was jealous.”

His gut reaction is to chuckle to hide his reddened face. He didn’t know what to think of it. Surely you were joking.

“Jealous, huh?” Kuni repeats with amusement lining the smirk slowly spreading across his face. “That I touch these flowers with more care than… say, touching you? Is that it?”

However, instead of laughing along, you blush a deeper shade of crimson that rivals his own and to boot, you take your lower lip between your teeth. “S-so you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he scoffs, brushing off your reaction as if you didn’t just confess to wanting his touch. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you genuinely had an interest in him. He was in denial, rationalizing every detail in the back of his mind. Where this was going, he had no clue.

As he continued to wage this internal war with himself, attempting to play a kind of 4-D chess to stay a step ahead of you, he neglected the most obvious conclusion. “Y-you really want me to…?”

Poor Kuni had let his mind run in circles this whole time and he was made the fool. You were trying to flirt with him.

You glance to the door of the flower shop, which sported a cute homemade sign that read ‘Come In, We’re Open!’ from the outside. Shifting uncomfortably, you keep your thighs closed tight. That glimmer in your eyes was no longer cloudy but clear as day to the florist—lustful—and he quite liked the way it reflected in your watercolor irises.

A small chuckle escapes your lips, the redness in your cheeks never leaving. You hoped that Kuni could read between the lines. “D-do you take custom orders? Because, I actually, uh, have a special flower I want you to use.”

“Oh?” he knew exactly what you were asking now, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming rate. The tension between your bodies is palpable at this point, as his fingers still hover over your back where he had touched you accidentally. “You know, I’d like to think I’m well-acquainted with many flower species, but… maybe you could enlighten me.”

He wanted you, truly. But part of Kuni had reservations about going this fast.

His attention snapped to you when he felt your fingers on his chest, fiddling with the flower pinned to his apron. Your voice softened and sounded sweet as honey, “You are the florist. I trust that you are a capable man, Kuni.”

“Well, I-I suppose I’d want to give this my utmost attention,” he begins, the back of his fingers graze your cheek down to your jaw, locking eyes with you. This is the stuff fantasies are made of, and here you are batting your pretty eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t mind closing the shop just for you.”

Amid the noise and bustle of the city, the people passing the storefront were none the wiser to the windows of the flower shop, curtains drawn to prevent any prying eyes. The door was locked shut, unusual for this time of day, but no customers would be stopping by any time soon. A sign hung in the window of the door reading ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’

Even the lights were off, bathing the assortment of embellished bouquet displays in darkness. Near the florist’s workbench in the back of the store, a single lamp cast a warm ray over his newest obsession spread nice and ready for him. A pair of electrifying purple eyes drifted down his favorite fascination, admiring his work thus far—a smattering of hickeys trailing down your bare body. Your beautiful skin was his willing canvas.

The weight of Kuni’s gaze had your cunt twitch around nothingness in anticipation. Your only consolation lied behind your eyelids, edging yourself with the sweet delusion of his pulsing cock grazing your clit before guiding it to your desperate hole. Archons, you could almost envision how it would feel for his tip to venture across every ridge of your walls for the first time.

You needed it, craved it. No, you ached for it—as if you were missing a part of your soul that would make you whole.

Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips brushing on your supple thighs. How he had unraveled you out of every layer of clothing yet never set his sights on your pretty pussy was unfathomable. Art cannot be rushed, after all.

Kuni was taking his sweet time to memorialize the texture of your skin on his, to taste and devour you slowly in every possible sense. His imagination was the limit, and for now he was blissfully chasing your sensual little noises like a dream on the clouds of your lips.

His warm, muscular hand traveled across the round curve of your hip, gripping the plump flesh in reverence, and then snaked it up your back. You whimpered into his mouth as his soft tongue teased yours. He smiled, knowing that deep down you were beginning to reach your breaking point.

Kuni’s voice was smooth and inviting, “Mm, (Y/N), you know why I chose peonies?”

With each vertebrae the pads of his fingers discovered, tracing your tattoo, your spine arched just a little more into his toned chest. The corners of his mouth turn up into an adoring smile, long eyelashes framing the depth of the devotion imprinted in his expression. Your occasional soft gasps of need urged him to capture your lips in a chaste kiss intermittently.

“Your smile… reminds me of yellow peonies. Of new beginnings, every morning,” Kuni chuckles quietly to himself between kisses, intertwining his other hand in your hair. His thumb coaxes your jaw to open for him further, swirling his tongue with yours before rewarding you with the heavenly sensation of his lips once more.

“And in your absence,” he continues, taking your lower lip between his teeth to emphasize the emotions behind his words. “Like a soft pink peony, I realize how much I’m missing without you.”

“Mm, miss you too,” you lean into the florist’s mouth as he tries to pull away, not yet ready to part. He obliged with a smug exhale through his nose, hot breath tickling your lips as he nuzzles you. The atmosphere was thick with temptation, both of you closing your eyes to relish in the tension—such satisfaction feels even better when it’s just out of reach.

“When you walk through that door, you’re more beautiful than the day before… as lovely as a white peony,” Kuni let his hand fall from your hair to your collarbone, reminding you of the love bites he marked you with in a fit of passion earlier.

Licking his lips, the indigo-haired florist embarked to kiss every single inch of your body leading to the delectable curve of your breasts. As he neared your aerola, he couldn’t help but give it an affectionate lick and gentle suck, smirking when your nipple hardened involuntarily.

You whimper again, squeezing your thighs together. However, Kuni had planted himself firmly between your legs where you sat on the counter, purposely pulling back to push the bulge of his erection onto your core to remind you of your place. Don’t you dare keep your petals a secret.

“I bet you didn’t even know,” he almost scoffs, pinching your nipple as punishment and studying the squeeze of your eyelids in desperation. “That many of my arrangements were made in the image of you… with all those hot pink peonies.”

It’s not long before Kuni brings his lips back to your breasts, addicted to the sound of your soft pants. He sneaks his way down your abdomen, dragging his wet tongue along the alluring stretch towards your pelvis in sloppy kisses. As he finds himself kneeled in front of you, suddenly he hooks your knees around his shoulders to pull your pretty flower to his attention, earning a yelp from you.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Before you can react, Kuni is already diving his mouth between your soft thighs. You immediately dig your fingers into his purple locks, grabbing a fistful to temper his enthusiasm. “K-Kuni!”

The florist pauses, lust-riddled eyes flickering seductively up to you with bated breath. The way his eyebrow quirks up at you exudes a new kind of confidence you had never seen on him before, causing your protests to slowly die in your throat. “What? Don’t trust a professional?”

Kuni’s expression is downright carnal, flicking his tongue out at you teasingly. Your grip on his hair loosens, though he catches the pout of your lips. “I-I trust you.”

“Good, baby,” he exhales, wasting no time in closing the gap to your flower. “Because I’m about to show you the meaning of my favorite color peony.”

You attempt to relax as he nudges his nose between your folds, slowly gliding his tongue over your pussy. It’s an experimental first taste of paradise, one that evokes an erotic sigh of pleasure from you. Kuni hums in contentment against your clit, his humid breath tickling every crevice of your delicious cunt.

Circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, Kuni hangs on to every luscious moan and silent plea for more that spills from you. It spurs him to lick your core eagerly, occasionally taking your outer labia between his lips and briefly but gently sucking it in a wet kiss.

“F-fuck,” you mumble in a hot whine, running both of your hands through the florist’s hair to see how his eyebrows knit together prettily. He’s so focused on pleasing you, slurping the intoxicating concoction that is your essence and his saliva dribbling down his chin. It was so tantalizing, it had you bucking your hips into his face.

Kuni abruptly grabbed your sides to steady himself, and grunted lowly in response. He flatly licked your folds, then moving to suckle your clit. Your groans were making him so utterly taken with you, sliding a hand back down in his boxers to smear precum over the throbbing tip of his erection and fist his length.

All he could do is mutter sweet nothings into the wet cavern of your pussy, praising you for tasting so divine and even letting him please you like this. He traces your folds sensually, eventually pushing his tongue deeper into your plush walls. The sensation is more than enough to have you a whimpering mess, tugging Kuni’s head closer and fucking your cunt onto his tongue.

Your thighs tighten around the florist’s head, but he honestly doesn’t mind if he passes out from a lack of oxygen. In fact, Kuni buries his tongue even further into you, if possible, while his nose teases your aching clit. All of it was worth hearing you beg for him to make you cum.

“O-oh my fucking god, mm,” you whisper, voice dripping with desire. “Y-yes, yes, yes… ‘m so close.”

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking and chuckling into your cunt while salacious groans of his own pour from his lips. Without warning, Kuni rips himself away and wipes his face, leveling his cock with your sopping entrance and nestling just the tip in. You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of your climax as it was replaced with the unexpected girth of his length, your hole fluttering instantaneously.

“Aghhh, goddamnit,” he curses under his breath, verging on a growl. You weren’t used to this side of him, but every surprise had you wanting to see more. He slams his hands on the table on either side of you, lavender eyes glued to the hypnotic spasm of your lovely pussy around his cock. “I can’t believe you’re so tight—just for me.”

“Please,” you mewl, legs wrapped his hips to slowly pull the florist closer and bury his cock just an inch further. The hazy glint in your irises said everything. You swallow thickly, “I need you so bad, Kuni.”

He entangled himself in you, inhaling your scent as he held you tightly by the waist and bottomed out inside of your heavenly walls. Oh, you were simply in a state of breathless ecstasy, melting into his arms. The feeling of fullness within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and Kuni’s first real thrust had your legs shaking.

It wasn’t enough. How could he be satisfied without knowing his cock kissed your cervix and bred you nicely?

Nuzzling into your neck, Kuni forced you to the edge of the counter by your ass, giving him better access to relentlessly pound that pretty pussy of yours. You took the hint and laying down on your back submissively, resting your ankles on his shoulders. The florist didn’t dare stop his movements, growing more and more drunk on the mesmerizing sound of your pussy taking him so well.

His hand groped at the bouncing flesh of your breasts. “Archons, (Y/N), why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Kuni’s head leaned onto your left calf, eyes trained only on you in a loving gaze, before turning to kiss your leg as he leisurely fucked you. His hand roamed south of your breasts and planted his thumb on your clit in tight circles, gripping your leg harder against his chest to keep you in place. He wasn’t about to let you squirm away from the pleasure he’s so kindly giving you.

At this point, you were beyond trying to keep your composure. Slutty groans of euphoria filled the humble little shop with every slap of your skin on his. He had you begging, pleading in hot tears for your release. Kuni had repeatedly tempted, teased, and edged you beyond comprehension.

Now here you were yearning for your climax like a whore.

“Ah, fuck, hah… yes, please, please…!” you panted, loving the way Kuni was using you like his perfect little cocksleeve. He looked so sexy with sweat on his brow and his bangs messily sticking to his forehead, the raw girth of his cock stretching you so good with each thrust. Frankly, you were reduced to incoherent babbling—coaxing the peak of both your climaxes. “Mm, so, so good. Gonna… gonna cum, I-I…”

“Mhmm, it’s okay, yeah… ‘m gonna fucking cum all in you,” Kuni frantically nods, sucking in a sharp breath and trembling all over as he cums simultaneously with you. He keeps his cock fully sheathed in your pulsating pussy, a myriad of praises and curses flow freely between the both of you. “Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Nnghh, yes,” you replied with guttural enthusiasm, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your orgasm washes away. “I fucking love you.”

Kuni is barely able to support you in the aftershock of that mind-breaking pleasure, clutching you to his chest and breathing wildly. Whether it was the sex talking or not, he didn’t care. He had you in this moment and would never let go, he vowed.

The florist’s eyes flickered to a bouquet of red peonies sitting on his workbench with a soft smile.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

[imaginesmai]

Missed target (2) - Azriel

Brief summary in case you're new: Azriel tries to flirt with Elain but everything he does goes straight to you, a stranger. Now, Azriel wants to repeat all those steps and make it right. Prepare your dentist appointment because it's so SWEET IT WILL ROT YOUR TEETH

Plot: the story about how Azriel and you fell in love, taking all the right steps.

Missed target 1

The Suriel 1

Foreigners believed Velaris to be a sunny, cloudless place where trees grew magically and flowers bloomed on their own. But that was far from the truth.

That morning, the sky awoke covered by dark, looming clouds that vaccinated a storm. People looked refugee on their homes, and the streets of Velaris were empty by the time the firsts drop landed. Only few late customers rushed to finish their shopping – and the Suriel, who stared at his usual prey from a dark alley.

By then, the shadows greeted him like an old friend. They swarmed his feet and tangled between his fingers. No matter how distracting their touch was, he didn’t tear his eyes away from their master.

The shadowsinger was taking cover from the rain under a tiny awning, his wings stretched to widen the covered space. Under his left one, was a new figure – one the Suriel had known for a while, in his dreams, in his visions, but hadn’t met before. Your shape looked ridiculously small compared to the Illyrian warrior, who took every inch of space possible.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, face looking up at him with pure adoration. His wing tucked you closer when the rain poured harder, and you chuckled. The Suriel watched the male’s eyes widen at the sound, an easy smile drawing on his lips.

Lighting illumined the street and you only laughed harder, Azriel joining you. The Suriel couldn’t understand the joke, couldn’t share the connection of your bond. But he could feel what two mated hearts felt like, and he smiled content.

Planned date

Three dresses, all different, lay on your bed while you stared at them. The first one was dark blue, long and sleeveless. The second one, a rosy pink, had low sleeves that wrapped around the hands, and a cut under the right knee. Third one was bright green, decorated with roots and leaves in a darker tone.

You brushed your tongue through your lower lip deep in thinking. They all were beautiful, and probably appreciated by your date. But while you had never cared too much about make-up and Friday nights, you were panicking a little.

Maybe a lot.

Azriel had sent you a mysterious note that morning, asking you to be ready by eight. He hadn’t said anything else, just to choose something elegant, and that had led you to an afternoon of rushing and not getting anything done.

Your make-up was ready, your hair was ready. Only ten minutes before eight and you couldn’t decide what dress you wanted.

Blue was his color, but while the weeks following the snapping bond had been intense, maybe it was too soon. Rosy pink was sweet and innocent, not like the thoughts you had anytime Azriel was in your presence. And while you liked the green one, maybe it was too much.

You decided to close your eyes and let a random tune decided for you.

Rosy pink, it was.

Just when you were strapping your first shoe, a soft knock on your door broke the panicked silence of your house. You stumbled out your bedroom into the hallway while putting on the second one, and opened the door rather abruptly.

“Hello” Azriel gave you a side-smile, not saying anything about the rush.

“Hi”

His hazel eyes traveled down to your feet and back to your eyes, and if that look wasn’t enough to make your knees tremble, a pink dust covered his tanned cheeks. His wings fluttered behind him slightly, and he cleared his throat. With his hands behind his back and his messy locks, Azriel looked like a boy. And that made some of the tension in your shoulder drop.

“May I take a beautiful lady for dinner?” he offered you his arm. “You look… perfect”

“You look like a dinner itself”

His laugh resonated through the whole neighborhood, and your nerves died with it. Indeed, you would have eaten Azriel up right there and then. He was wearing a shirt with the first two buttons undone, letting you peek at the tattoos underneath.

The night was cold enough for you to drop your coat around, but Azriel was carrying his in his free arm. He had rolled up the sleeves and you barely resisted the urge of running your hands through his muscles. The hard, warm muscles you could feel under your grip, and that had you matching his blush.

You closed the door behind you and matched your step with his, not knowing where he was taking you.

It was the first time you two went out together. After a night that ended way too quickly where you could only stare at your new mate, he had accompanied you in silence to your house. Since then, you had shared more letters and ‘accidentals’ meetings when you would proposedly walk in front of his house.

Walking down the streets by his arm, not knowing if you were allowed to call it your first date, threatened to eat you alive.

“How can I be sure you’re not about to murder me?” you asked trying to light the awkward mood.

“If I were, I wouldn’t be leaving my fingertips all over you” he answered with a faint chuckle. “And I wouldn’t be wearing the only nice shirt I have”

“I would be more convinced if you let me know where we are going”

“But then I would ruin the surprise” Azriel looked down and met your eyes. Then, after a beat of silence, talked again. “How was your day?”

Just like that, you fell into an easy conversation with him. Through the letters, you were used to telling him about pointless things – he knew where you worked, who were your friends, how you lived. You knew about his family too, about his line of work and even some of his past. You had even met Cassian two days ago when him and Azriel had stumbled upon you in the market.

The male had been delighted to meet you, apparently aware of the missed attempts of courting Elain that led Azriel to you. He was loud, a little intrusive and funny, and you already liked him.

The streets were crowded that night, although you were surprised to notice that people kept his distance when you were with him. Azriel didn’t seem to think about it, just listened to you with rapt attention, so you ignored them too. However, you did use the opportunity to walk a tad closer to him, just two inches – enough to feel his body heat and scene, that had your head spinning for a second.

You walked down the streets until you reached your destination, that you wouldn’t have noticed had him not stopped.

Neon lights shone above the restaurant, and you could read the sign Silver Spoon. You stared at the name and Azriel stared at you with a hopeful smile. Feeling his feelings through the bond still felt strange, not knowing where that emotion came from, but it didn’t shake your grounding like the first time.

You instantly felt bad when you watched and felt his hope, waiting for you to say something. Staring once more at the restaurant, you could only admire the elegance of it. You had never been taken on a date somewhere so nice, and the fact that Azriel expected something from you threatened to break the fantasy.

“It’s… lovely” you smiled softly at him, trying not to let him down.

“You don’t remember, right?”

When you didn’t answer, Azriel only smiled wider and opened the door for you. You instantly missed his warmth, and as soon as the door closed behind you, you wasted no time in returning to the original position. Azriel didn’t say anything else as he asked for his reservation and you were led to a table by the window. From there, you could see a beautiful garden illuminated faintly, almost like a dream.

Azriel was still silent as he pulled your chair back and you thanked him quietly. Before you could wonder if he was disappointed or not, he took his own chair and moved it next to you. You stared as he moved his plate, vase and napkin, and when he was finished, he sat in his new seat.

From there, your knees brushed slightly. Your hands found each other in the middle as you searched for his presence and him for yours. Like a trained dance, you let them rest on his thigh, fingers fitting like a match made by fate.

Soft music resonated in the restaurant while other couples dinned not too far away. In the middle of the table, a rose sweetened the atmosphere.

“This is where we first met” Azriel started. “I had been dumped and I was about to leave in a horrible mood. And then, this stranger comes up to me smelling so divine that I couldn’t think about anything else. She looked so good, so perfect, that I looked like an idiot as she told me she had been stood up too. Then I left and kept thinking about her the whole night”

“You were kind of dumb” you admitted, suddenly aware of the place he had chosen. Of the table he had reserved. “But you were cute”

“Oh, that’s such a kind thing to say about a man who spatted his name at you and stumbled out like a headless deer”

Your shoulders shook with laughter, and a few heads turned to look at you. When he mentioned it, you remembered that night – a friend had set you up with a male who didn’t show up. You remembered thinking Azriel had ran away from your pointless chattering, going home kind of disappointed.

Even though not even four months had gone by since that first encounter, you felt like a life had been spent. You thanked the Cauldron that male hadn’t shown up, because if being stood up meant you would meet Azriel, then you would have waited a thousand years.

Azriel lifted your joined hands to his lips and pressed them to yours. They felt soft and perfect, and you could only wonder and hope you would feel them on other parts too. Smiling at him was the only way you kept your mouth shut from those thoughts.

However, his eyes darkened and lowered to your mouth, as if he could feel and share what you were thinking. His throat bobbed lightly and your toes curled involuntarily in your shoes. Azriel forced himself to look away and lower your hands, because he wasn’t about to cause a second bad impression in the same restaurant.

“Y/N, I…” Azriel started, and seemed to shake whatever insecurities crowded him. “You know how I was, not was, but wanted to be with someone. When I met you. And that the flowers, and the dinner, and…”

“I know” you cut him off, and it was your turn to squeeze your joined hands. “And I don’t care, I really don’t. It brought you to me, the Cauldron, fate or whatever you want to call it. That’s all I care about”

“You’re making it really hard not to kiss you right now”

Before you could answer, the waiter appeared to take your note and you quickly ordered the first thing in the menu, not bothering to hide your blush or the shakiness of your voice. Azriel scoffed his order and the waiter left.

And that time, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his mouth, the way he licked his lips and smiled at you knowingly. You only whished you would end your night way closer than that dinner.

The market

It was cold, too cold to leave the comfort of your house. You had left your fuzzy socks in your wardrobe and exchanged them for thick boots, that would probably do little against the snow in the streets. That winter had been cruel and unforgivable that year, almost every day started with a blizzard or a storm.

Still, you needed to eat and clothe, and while you had minimized your interactions with other people to the minimum, you were finally forced to leave.

Azriel had been part of that cozy routine lately. Long nights in your house, sitting by the fire and just listening to his beautiful voice. Sometimes you just enjoyed the silence, the soft touches you shared.

He had made his petition known after your first date, and you could only agree – to take things slow, to get to know each other and not get rushed because of the bond. While it was proved to be hard when he looked at you with that devotion, you were keeping the promise.

Strong wind broke you out of your happy memories as you opened the door, and you shivered before setting a foot outside. You tucked the coat tighter around your body and quickly closed the door, although it didn’t stop some of the snow from sneaking inside.

You turned around to be met with a familiar chest. Somehow, before you looked up, you knew who he was.

“Az” you blinked surprised at your mate, who looked way less cold than you. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me you had to go shopping today. So I thought some company would be nice” he smiled at you. “Unless you plan to meet with your secret lover”

“He’s hiding under the bed” you raised a teasing brow. “I would never subdue him to such a cruel weather”

“Lucky for you, I grew up in the mountains”

Azriel pushed you close to his body and your boots pushed against the snow. Indeed, Azriel’s body temperature was already higher than you, and you had just walked out of your house. The market was not far from your house, just a few streets away, and you walked as quickly as the snow let you.

Fresh flakes covered your cheeks and hair, but you could have walked for days straight if Azriel was holding you against him.

People were already used to seeing you and the shadowsinger, and some of your neighbors gave you a short nod in greeting. Some of them even stopped you to talk to him, since he was the big incorporation to your little neighborhood. From cleaning their entrances of snow to catching their cats when they ran away, Azriel’s popularity was increasing.

You cherished the routine, the normality, of it. A dumb smile froze your face and you couldn’t let it down, not when Azriel greeted them back and even joked with them. When you reached the markets, you were considering turning back from the cold that had settled in your bones.

“Where first?” Azriel asked, looking between the hidden stands and shops.

“Andreas’ shop. She already has my order ready, we just need to pick it up” you motioned her local with your chin. “Hopefully I’ll keep all my fingers intact”

“Aren’t you a bit dramatic?” he scoffed.

Still, he sneaked his hand into your pocket and you could have moaned when his warm fingers wrapped around yours. You would have gladly taken your hands out and let him warm them, but even that was risking too much. With a grateful smile that barely replaced the urge to kiss him, you continued walking.

Azriel proved to be the best shopping companion. Not only he didn’t argue when you spent minutes doubting between two goods, but he also carried each and every bag. You teased him about dropping everything to the ground, which got you a playful glare.

It got the point where he wouldn’t let you use your hands to take the items. He would just ask you to point at them and then proceed to put them himself inside a bag.

The morning rolled away quickly between laughs, shopping and side-hugs that anticipated way more. It seemed that once Azriel had discovered how your laugh sounded, how it rattled his bones and soul, he was done for. Everything he said and made was aimed to repeat that sound, and he could have heard it for his eternity.

Not wanting the day to end, he didn’t mention when you opened the door for him, and you didn’t comment how he took his boots off at the entrance, at the familiar empty place by yours. While you unbuttoned layer after layer of clothes, Azriel filled your counters with groceries and put them away in the cupboards.

You found yourself watching him from the living room, as he moved around like he owned the place. He eventually noticed you hadn’t joined him, and he turned around. With his grey sweater and cargo pants, you wondered how much you needed to know him you wanted to have that sight for the rest of your life.

“Staring your fill?”

“Just making sure you won’t put poison in my coffee” you left your spot to walk towards him.

“I wouldn’t dream to mess with your coffee” Azriel showed his hands up. “Only between the spices”

Something electric brushed your arm when you walked around him, and it wasn’t the usual shadow that accompanied you lately. Something deeper, meaningful, that had you sharing a long look. It was hard to ignore what the bond demanded, what your soul asked you to do, but it felt weirdly nice to take things slow.

You had never imagined yourself with someone like Azriel, and he hadn’t even dreamed to find a bond so deep. Navigating it felt at the same time too slow and too fast. Your heartrate spiked up in his presence, but also warmed and felt like home.

You casted a quick look to the groceries, and then stared out the window. The blizzard was still going, and wouldn’t stop for a while.

“If you intend to poison me” you started, trying to not stutter when his hand found yours and his fingers brushed your palm. “Maybe you can stay for lunch”

“Seems like a solid plan for me”

You turned around and away from his grasp before you could share more than an innocent lunch.

The flowers

A soft knock on your door forced you to tear your eyes away from the book you were reading. A book from Azriel, that had captured you from the first chapter. You blinked the fogginess away and concluded that, while the book had taken your mind off for a while, your body felt just as tired.

You had been feeling sick for two days in a row, your cycle on full blast. Stiff limps, painful cramps and trembling knees were only a part of it. Between the heavy bleeding of the first days and the winter roaring outside, you hadn’t left the house yet. You had told Azriel about it, and he had respectfully kept his distance as you asked.

So, without him to keep you company, you weren’t expecting anyone.

Another beat of silence rolled by, and you waited for whoever was knocking to leave. Your legs were tucked under a warm blanket, and it had taken you a while to find the right position. Just when your eyes fell back to the book, another knock, that time stronger, broke the silence.

You would have ignored it too, but then black tendrils seeped through the bottom of the door and crawled to you. They tickled your face as you swatted them away, the book falling shut on the ground. Azriel’s shadows, that were always nearby when you two were together, bugged you until you couldn’t contain your smile.

They must have warned their master, and sensed your state, because you watched half-amazed half-worried how they easily played with your lock and opened the door. It was pushed open gently by Azriel, who offered you an apologetic shrug.

“Hey” you smiled, sitting up straight. “Don’t you have an emergency key?”

“Wanted to make sure I was welcomed first” Azriel stepped inside and the door closed behind him. “They didn’t agree”

“As long as the door isn’t broken”

Azriel walked with his hands behind his back the short steps that separated you, and you were grateful for the change of smell. Instead of the heavy herbs of your heating pads, he brought a fresh, natural scent that managed to lower the pain a tad.

He was wearing his training leathers and winter coat unbuttoned, and judging by the incoming bruise of his cheek, he had just finished his session with Cassian. Unknowns to you, it had been him who had thrown Azriel out of the training ring and forced him to come and see you.

Your mate was so out of it that he had been tackled to the ground twice. The general had only needed a short explanation before cutting their training short, and Azriel hadn’t complained. He had just made a brief stop before coming to your house.

When he reached the coffee table, he knelt on one knee and took the bouquet from behind his back. He watched as your eyes widened and your cheeks blushed. Flowers were hard to find during that time of the year, but Elain had been more than happy to help him. They were colorful, and under the notice you wouldn’t remember, the same he had once given you without meaning to.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked as he handed you the bouquet, watching you take it in slowly. You peeled the first layer off to stare at the hidden ones, breathing them softly.

“The same. It’s no big deal, I’ll be off for a few days and back on my feet like nothing happened. Perks of being female” you finally looked at him, and he lost his train of thought at the brightness of your eyes. “Thank you”

You couldn’t resist yourself and leaned forward, until Azriel was within your reach. His eyes didn’t move from a spot behind your as his whole body tensed when you cupped his cheek, that carried the stubble of a few days. It was rough against your palm, cold from the weather outside.

You moved his face to the right until you could place a light kiss to his cheek – more than his cheek, you had to admit, the corner of his mouth. From that close, you heard how his breath hitched. Maybe it was your cycle that made you bolder, because apart from holding hands and hugging, you hadn’t yet kissed.

Not even a kiss in the cheek, which had been your original intention.

But you couldn’t help and move a little to the right, catching the edge of his lip. So close yet so far from where you wanted to kiss him, where you had wanted to since the bond snapped. You left your lips there for half a second that, for Azriel, felt like an eternity.

Then you tore away and Azriel finally looked at you, his eyebrows rising. He blinked and begged himself to do something other than knelt at your feet, although he knew he had been in that position metaphorically since you met.

“I should put them in water” you mentioned, like you hadn’t just shaken his world.

He offered himself quietly to do so for you, gathering the flowers and getting up with just a misstep. Which, given the speed of his thoughts at the moment, was a great achievement.

Azriel ended up staying with you that night, heating the pad for you every now and then and holding you against him when the cramps made you curl in a tight ball. He didn’t complain when you whined in pain and cursed the Cauldron for the injustice, nor let you even think about apologizing for the inconvenience.

The flowers were put in a beautiful jar in the middle of the kitchen, and lasted almost a week. When the weather and time ended with them, Azriel helped you dry them and keep them like a physical memory of that beautiful night.

The dance

It wasn’t unusual for the inner circle to celebrate parties, but many of them were intimate. Rhysand and Feyre loved to share special moments with their family, and since that first dinner where you had been officially introduced as Azriel’s mate, you had become part of it.

You would have thought it’d be awkward at the beginning, centuries of friendship against a newcomer. But they all had warmed around you in a matter of hours. From all of them, Cassian was who you connected quicker with, sharing the same humor and care for Azriel.

Winter solstice had finally arrived after a cold winter, and you had been invited as Azriel’s partner. The girls, who now you considered your friends, had almost forced you to follow tradition and get ready together, so you had gathered your clothes in a bag and left your house early.

Not that it made you any good, as Mor took a quick look at your belongings and casted them aside in favor of an elegant black dress.

“You look stunning, Y/N” Feyre complimented you as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“That’s one way to say it. I know for sure whose pants are going to be tight tonight” Mor added, earning a sharp look from Feyre and a loud laugh from Nesta. “And you haven’t even kissed him? Not even a quick peck?”

“You don’t have to answer” Elain reminded you from where she was finished her make-up. “She’ll keep this up for ages”

“We want to take things slow” you admitted, finally looking away from the mirror to your new friends. “The bond makes things different, and we barely knew each other before it snapped. So it’s our way to, I guess, make it real”

“That’s nice, I didn’t – “

“Well, I, for one, knelt before Cassian way before I knew his favorite color”

Mor snorted so hard she choked on her breath, Elain turned to look at her sister with a deep blush and Feyre just looked done with Nesta. You, for once, couldn’t tell them how much you imagined yourself doing so. In how many positions you had put Azriel in your mind, how many innocent touching had turned into deep thinking about what you would do.

You finished way later than the boys, it seemed, as Cassian was already half-drunk and Lucien had a healthy redness on his cheeks. As they all greeted each other, you were caught off guard from just how good Azriel looked.

He was full in navy blue, from his unbuttoned shirt that never seemed to let you see enough to his trousers that left little to imagination. He rose as soon as you walked in, taking a small box that was resting in the table with him.

His eyes did a quick check-up on you, and when they rose back to yours, his pupils were slightly bigger. Azriel left little space between your bodies, and you would have gladly left them to enjoy the festivity on their own hadn’t been by his hand taking yours delicately.

He opened the box and you blinked surprised at the shiny and beautiful ring that was hidden inside. In silence, he took it out and put it on your finger, his touch warm and safe.

“I brought Elain a stupid bracelet at Feyre’s birthday. It was a sad excuse to convince myself I still liked her, because you were already driving me mad without meaning to” he spoke quietly, rotating the new ring on your finger. “It seems that happened a life away”

“It’s perfect” you couldn’t help yourself when your voice broke a little. “I love it”

Azriel smiled, content with himself, and you realized the rest of the group had already left for the main dining room. Someone had closed the door to give you privacy, and you silently thanked them because you didn’t feel like breaking down in front of your new family.

The ring was your size, and it looked not big nor small. Perfect. You had troubles trying to voice the thoughts that threatened to make you cry, from joy and happiness, and Azriel seemed to understand them all.

His arm circled your waist and pushed you closer to him, your hands still together. He laced his fingers with your and you naturally rested your free hand against his shoulder. You brushed the short hairs of his neck, anything to make you feel grounded when you felt like flying.

“Y/N. My Y/N” Azriel muttered, his eyes drinking your emotions. “I could talk about this until my deathbed, but I guess you already know it, don’t you?”

“You made it all right, hm?”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. Azriel had mentioned before the first date that he wanted to fix every attempt he poorly made at courting Elain that reached you. The date, the market, the flowers, and now the stupid gift. He wordlessly swayed both of you a few steps, and you broke into a wet chuckle, knowing you wouldn’t make it through the whole dance without throwing yourself in his arms.

Azriel had been convinced Elain was the match for him.

She made his giddy, nervous, wanted. Everything he felt was always missing something, that he searched in her without noticing she just didn’t have it. Didn’t hold the piece of soul that was hidden in your bond.

Azriel’s own eyes looked glossy when he stopped the brief movements and turned his head to the right. You felt his breath against your lips when he talked, your noses brushes.

“May I kiss you now?”

You didn’t answer or wait for him to kiss you. Lifting your heels an inch, you pressed your lips against him and the world exploded. It was sweet and salty and every flavor you had ever tasted. Like a sunny night in summer or a windy day in winter.

The first tear rolled down your cheek, or maybe it was his. Azriel pushed your body closer until your back arched and your feet didn’t touch the ground. With both arms around your waist, Azriel lifted you up as you crashed your lips against him like a storm.

They danced wonderfully together, your hand tangling in his so-carefully tamed hair that was already getting loose. His tongue asked for permission and you gladly granted him. He explored every inch of your mouth, as if he was marking it into his memory to never forget it.

Eventually, you broke apart from air, and the room was brighter. He didn’t lower you and you didn’t tear your eyes away from him. You opened your heart and searched for the right words, that had been there since Feyre’s birthday.

“My mate” you whispered, watching the words sink into his heart and resonate with love and adoration. “My Az”

He swallowed the next words in another kiss, snow gathering in the window of the room. Even if it was cold and your presence was required a room away, you were warm and felt at home in his arm. So, you didn’t complain when walked with you still on his arms on the opposite way.

You barely registered Cassian’s loud laugh or his shadows closing doors behind you.

Only the feeling of your mate in your arms, and the warmth in your heart.

The Suriel 2

He hadn’t been invited – he never was. The Suriel wasn’t created for those types of things, and human or fae traditions were meaningless. Still, he had snuck in before the doors closed and lurked in the shadows when the guests filled the room.

At least two of the attendances had noticed him but hadn’t said anything. The shadows that covered him like an accomplice weren’t enough to cover him from the ancient creature’s sight. The woman had stared down at him from her short height and deemed him inoffensive, given she was standing next to her family without warning them.

The High Lord also noticed his presence, but had too ignored it. The Suriel didn’t know how to feel about it – or about his presence. He shouldn’t be there; he had never done so. But the shadowsinger story was too interesting, too consuming, not to follow.

He had not pushed the strings of fate only to miss the end.

The palace room fell quiet as a beautiful woman walked down the aisle. He watched Azriel’s eyes brighten from his corner, how his wings shivered with emotion when you walked closer, about to settle your bond with an official ceremony. His family surrounded him, his mate walked towards him, and the scarred and devasted boy was finally comforted.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

“Fate has granted you with great things, my boy. You just have to be patient. And you will beat them all”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

[heartofwritiing]

We could make such a pretty picture

Paring: musicianbur x photographer!reader

Summary: you are lovejoy’s tour photographer and wilbur likes to tease you.

authors note: this is so rushed and unedited mostly just my stream of consciousness that popped into my head while i finish up the zombur fic! its almost done!!

warnings: fluff, short, flirting, a little suggestive maybe, i use a cringey (?) line idk take it as you will lmao, unedited!

“Make sure you get my good side darling.”

Before every show backstage, Wilbur would always tell you to quote: “get my good side” whatever that meant. It was impossible to get his bad side. Every angle Wilbur Soot always looked ethereal, and that had nothing to do with your photography skills.

You would gaze up at him from the pits, readily pointing your camera to capture any shot of him playing his heart out to the screaming fans behind you. Rightfully so, you couldn’t deny how good he looked up on that stage.

Skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, and the light eyeliner slightly smudged in the corners of his eyes. His lips pulled up in a smirk as he flipped his hair in a certain way when a beat dropped. It was undeniable now, that he was doing this on purpose. He was goddamn attractive and he knew it.

After the show you would always sit in one of the green room chairs, keeping to yourself and letting the excitement of the after-show buzz from the band fill the room. You were scrolling through the photos, admiring your work on a picture of Ash with the lightning just right when you felt a presence creep up behind you.

“That ones quiet good,” Wilbur’s voice made you jump out of your skin, and he laughed at your startled state.

“Thanks,” you replied, returning to scrolling through your pictures but Wilbur stayed right by your shoulder. Sounds of his bandmates laughter filled the space, he couldn’t care to jump into their conversation. Too entranced by your photography. Wilbur had never truly seen your work before. Of course there was pictures the band used for the instagram account, but those were taken by their previous photographer.

You were new, and Wilbur had briefly seen your work before. Only two shows into the tour, you didn’t have the time to sit with the lead singer and exhibit your entire portfolio to hkm. But seeing how you captured his presence on stage so well, with the white strobe light hitting him at just the right angle, caused his interest to be peaked even further. It made him want to get to know you better.

“you know, we make such a pretty picture,” you can hear the deviousness in his voice and the underlying meaning behind his own lyrics he was using towards you. It warms your cheeks and you avoid his eyes that are burning into the side of your face.

You cleared your throat and repositioned yourself in your seat. “whatever you say, its all you up there on that stage,”

The next night, standing once more in the pits, camera ready as the first chords of 'Portrait of a Blank Slate' blasted through the venue speakers, and screams exploded around you. As the color lights switch from dark blue to deep red, Wilbur saunters to the microphone and begins singing the first lyrics.

You lift your camera up to your face and look through the viewfinder to be met with an up-close Wilbur, who is pressing his lips right into the microphone. A smirk pulled the corner of his mouth when he peeked open his eye to catch you pointing your camera at him. Cheeky bastard.

As he sang the next few lyrics, his hands lift up to the top part of his shirt where it was unbuttoned. Running his index finger from from his collar down to his chest, he sang; ‘shes an artist, paints across my chest,’ while sending you a quick wink.

Your mouth parted in utter shock and felt your heart beating in your ears. How does this man do this to you? You hadn’t even known him that long, but he was making you feel dizzy with the slightest little actions. You quickly shook away any thoughts popping into your mind and took a couple more photos of him. The last one was of him leaning back while strumming the next chords, then you moved on to capture more of the other band members. You just had to force yourself away from him before you got carried away.

That same night later on the tour bus, you were going through your photos again. One in particular caught your eye, it was of Wilbur with the red lights behind him casting him in a dark glow, and his guitar lifted into the air while he threw his head back. Infamous rockstar pose, you decide to call it. You chose a couple more to post to your professional instagram account, tagging the band members each in their respective photos.

About an hour later a notification came up on your phone that a mutual had commented on your photo. You checked it and immediately felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the words on your screen.

@/WilburSoot: Told you we make such a pretty picture ;)

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @highstonedcat

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist let me know!

[paleroze]

Jing Yuan imagines

Lion Hybrid Jing Yuan

๋. ࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋๋࣭࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭

Being in the most powerful pride, Jing Yuan had to make sure all the other lion hybrids has a shelter, a food, and well protected, and that includes you. Even if you, yourself is not a lion.

But, who's to say that you can't be part of Jing Yuan's territory? That man, he is one of the Arbiter-Generals.. He is wise and brave when it comes to battle, but once he is back in the seat of Divine Foresight, even in office he dozes off most of the time!

Fortunately for everyone, today Jing Yuan is wide awake and doing.. whatever a general has to do. To be his lover and assistant, it has been nice to look after him. You proceed with his meetings, arrange his schedule, the paperworks Jing Yuan had to assist and look after, and then somehow, a time to play Xianzhou Starchess.. Jing Yuan and his requests..

You look over to glance at the general to see him with a bored look on his face and cheek resting on his fist, staring down at the documents as his tail sway languidly. Somehow you can see a small pout on his lips indicating his displeasure yet are forced to work as it is his duty.

You can't help but chuckle, which causes him to look up when he heard you, but the moment his eyes met your figure, you are already looking back at your clipboard and walking away from his table to talk with the other people inside the seat of Divine Foresight. Even you get bored sometimes.

Abandoning his paperworks you gave him this morning, Jing Yuan decided to watch you from his seat instead, his eyes following your every move with interest, how you talk to that other Lion hybrid longer than intended, and another approaching you in need of help, then another to chat with. A thought crosses his mind as he realized that those fellow hybrid of his talked to you more than he can chat with you, and you are his lover, how unfair!

Clearly you must've know too, right? When both of you gets to rest in your chambers, you turn to be cuddly and would spoil him rotten with attention until you fall asleep.

Jing Yuan had a glare on his face when you noticed him on the corner of your eye, you can see that it was direct towards the group of people you are talking to, which causes you to excuse yourself and goes back to him.

"General, get back on reading those papers, I need to submit it to the six commissions." You spoke to him with a smile, leaning down that got his attention.

"You'll be coming home late again?" He asks instead, looking up at you.

He looks cute, his ears are drooped and the tail that sways moments ago stops and lowers. You nod, "Mn, you know how it is, and if you don't finish that I might not make it home till midnight." You sound like you're speaking to a child, but the way you talk to Jing Yuan, calm and in a soft voice, that man would always turn soft over your behavior.

It barely shows that you are in a relationship with Jing Yuan, when inside the seat of Divine Foresight, your mind is only focused on work, and you're strict when needed. Due to this, the people inside would always wonder if the both of you are in love, or just that the General likes to flirt with his assistant. He often does, but you turn it away most of the time and instead drives his attention on the work in front of him that makes him look like a hurt kitten after being turned down.

The door suddenly opens and all the eyes turn on the sudden burst, you recognize a lady walking in in a hurry and when she sees you, the unnamed woman rush towards you.

The Ten-Lords commission requests for your presence immediately that they send an assistant personally. Worried, you can't help but drop the conversation with Jing Yuan and go with the lady, leaving Jing Yuan alone.

Jing Yuan was displeased as another person took you away, that woman that suddenly bursts inside just to take you? What are the cloud knights doing at the entrance?

The people inside could feel the growing tension and the Lion Hybrids cower that made them look down at their work, unable to lift their head.

Also, how come you went with her willingly? What if you get in danger? Xianzhou Luofu is safe, but at the place the Ten-Lords commission residing is quite dangerous.

Jing Yuan couldn't help but finish the paperworks immediately, calling another assistant for them to deliver it to the six commissions.

Instead of following you due to his worries, Jing Yuan disregards all the schedules he had for today, pouring it to the others that worked for him since it was all meeting they can cover the General for. He went to your shared chambers and locked himself for today, Jing Yuan plans on waiting for you, even if he knew that you would scold him for passing his work to someone else, even if it was just a meeting they can handle. Yet he fell asleep as soon as his lays on the bed. He embraces the title Dozing General at this point...

The sun was setting when you arrived back at the seat of Divine Foresight, your hair quite disheveled from running back and forth to the place and now another document on hand for Jing Yuan to sign. Yet as you stood in front, the General was nowhere to be seen, you checked his schedule and the time, the meeting with the Divination Commission should be done by now..

A foxian called for your attention when you stood in the middle of the room. "The general sent someone else to attend the meetings, he's back inside his chambers right now. "

That...! You sighed and thanked the man before heading to your shared chambers where often the both of you reside when too tired to come home.

But right when you step inside, you immediately see his large figure and see him sleeping on the bed. Before you can even scold him, your furrowed eyebrows dissipates and instead you calmly walk up to him. You sat on the corner of the bed and stared at his sleeping face, he looks peaceful that you did not bother to wake him up any longer. Somehow Jing Yuan never fails to swoon you even just by doing nothing, it is why you keep falling in love with him.

As you ruffled his white hair, his ears flinched and you heard a low purr from him, yet Jing Yuan remains asleep. You began to change into your nightgown he specifically gifted you and lays next to him, lifting the covers and cuddles to the lion hybrid.

Smelling your familiar scent, Jing Yuan's eyes opened and he met yours. He was expecting a scold the moment he woke up yet none came, you instead smiled at him and pet his hair which he always leans to. He almost forgot that he was sulking.

He pulls away when he remembered, turning his back that made you surprise, Jing Yuan never turn his back at you at sleep.

'ah.. is it this time.'

Smiling mischievously, you didn't dare to get close to him to hug him from the back and instead turn to your side that made the bed creak, indicating your movements. You get comfortable to your side and closes your eyes and waits for sleep to consume you.

But before you could drift off to sleep, Jing Yuan was on top of you and forces you to lay on your back. You open your eyes and look at him, raising an eyebrow.

His ears, it's dropped and a frown plastered on his face. His gold eyes looking at you and you tilt your head. "What's wrong?"

Jing Yuan glared at you and suddenly puts his weight into you which made you huff.

"Jing Yuan! Get off, you're heavy!"

"No." He answers, trapping you beneath him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he smells you, inhaling your scent he openly claimed to be good.

You sigh and gave up, you instead began to play with his soft hair and massages his scalp you know would make him sleepy. But making him fall asleep knows more weight would be put more on you, so you force him to look up, stopping him from breathing on your neck.

"What does my grumpy cat want?" You teased, the glare on Jing Yuan face deepens.

" 'not a cat." He shortly answered.

"You are though," You laugh, pulling him down for a kiss. "There, feel better?"

"That's not my lips." Yes, you knew. But to tease him longer you kissed the tip of his nose, then your lips met his cheeks and you heard him groan as he called your name to warn you.

Finally, your lips met his and you last it longer.

"Feel better now, my lion?"

"..Yeah."

Ah, you really do love him.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

so i js finished re-reading biker!san with a friend n we NEED to know if san plays w reader or not

could you give a brief summarisation of how their story ends (or possibly a pt.2 👀)?

ahaha i read it again and i don't think i can do a full oneshot but what about a scenario? 👀

badboybiker!san x photographer!reader: (pt 1 here)

[recap: you're a photographer trying to get a shot of the golden hour for a little competition when a stranger offers to help you in any way he can. since he's a biker, you think his silhouette would make for a perfect shot and you ask him to model for you. you promise to treat him if you win some prize and he accepts on the condition that he let you take around on his bike. when he tells you his name- choi san- you recognise him as the 'bad boy' of the neighbourhood. even knowing that you should avoid him, you can't resist his charms and get familiar with him thru texts. you take him to the dinner and he gives you a ride home and when you mention that you would like to take a shot of the river next time, he asks if he can tag along- as an 'assistant'. you smile in answer]

one thing about choi san is that he knows how to get his way.

in the past few weeks, you learned a few facts about him- that his bike is his baby and no one can touch it without his permission, that only a selected few get to ride on it (which makes you wonder how you got into that list so quickly) and that he is a very fun person to be around. he has manners, he definitely knows how to treat a woman and he might be a little too good at it.

what you also learned from your friends was that he was the notorious playboy of the town, rumoured to have broken the hearts of many and having a repute for getting into fights, being involved with the wrong company and whatnot. you told yourself that these are just 'rumours' because what you heard is very different from what you've seen firsthand.

though... he is a flirt, whether intentional or not. you've convinced yourself that you wouldn't become another woman on his list if he is that sort of a person, that it is possible for the two of you to be 'just friends', however loose the definition might be.

because if you were just friends, you wouldn't be getting excited whenever you heard the buzzing of your phone around midnight. if you were just friends, you wouldn't feel disappointed to see someone else texted you or you wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't reply within a few hours. if you were just friends, your heart wouldn't skip a beat every time you saw that beautifully sculpted face of his with those dark tendrils of hair falling on his forehead, messed up from his helmet. you wouldn't be shy when you wrapped your arms around his toned, strong waist when on the bike or when you grabbed his muscular arms, realising just how broad he was. you wouldn't want him to continue teasing you, smiling at you, tucking your hair back so casually or leaning in to whisper things in your ears with that goddamned smile of his- even when the two of you were alone.

the thing was... that he caught your eye and now you couldn't get him out of your head. he claimed to be obsessed with you these days because you were funny and made him laugh like no one else, because you were natural and didn't feel like you were putting up a fake persona in his presence, because he could always talk about anything that weighed on his mind without any judgement. you told him you'd heard things about him and he asked you if you believed them.

"if there was any truth to it, you wouldn't be a completely different person from what i've heard."

but he was. and he felt so fucking guilty about hiding it from you. when you spotted a bruised lip and a cut on his cheekbone, you attended to him without questions. you believed him when he lied and told you that he had a little fall from his bike (he had a fight, actually) and he let you scold him for not being careful. when you worriedly scanned his body for other signs of injuries, he let your hands travel all over his body. and when he held your wrists to stop you because he couldn't take it anymore, he convinced himself that it really wasn't different with you, that he really only wanted to ruin you because he was so tempted by your naivety, that you would soon be one of the women he had played with. he kissed your wrist while repeating that mantra, watching your lips part in surprise.

that night, he tried to reason with himself. you were too good a person to lose by his foolish antics. you were a keeper, you were precious and if he made a foolish mistake, he would forever regret it.

that doesn't stop him from treading on dangerous lines. and he could blame you for initiating it, blame you for kissing him first and involving yourself with him when the phone in his pocket was still buzzing with texts he never responded to, with the number of people that either wanted to fuck him up or fuck him.

and you... you would blame yourself too. because how could you hold back? how could you not give in and simply kiss the boy who sat on the riverside beside you, talking with you as if you both had nowhere else to be? how could you not hold his handsome face and kiss his plump lips when he told you how much you meant to him and how he was afraid that he would make a mistake?

if he was afraid of making a mistake, then you would in his stead. all you wanted was to be with him, to not be held back by the rumours or the warnings of your friends, to listen to your heart for once, no matter how foolish that may be. so when he looked at you with those eyes, looking like a stray cat that just needed a little love, someone who would tend to him... all the hesitation left your body as you held his face and kissed his lips, the sound of the river and the wind soothing your nerves. he didn't kiss you back. you drew away- had you really made an irreversible mistake-

"you don't know what you're getting yourself into."

that voice. that voice that you only heard when he talked about himself- his warning voice.

"why don't you show me then? what am i getting into?"

and that was the final push for san- his vision almost blackened for a second as desire crept through every nerve in his body and he crashed his lips on yours, earning a surprised groan from you. soon, you were kissing him back and moulding your body to his, letting your arms snake around his neck while his hands traced every part of your body, determined to not leave a single place untouched. the way he kissed was all-consuming- rushed, desperate, passionate and needy. when you broke contact for air, he started littering kisses all over your face, trailing from your jaw to your neck-

"san- sannie. we have all the time in the world."

that prompted him to pause- and perhaps, you shouldn't have stopped him when his lips were attached to your neck because he simply switched his speed, gently kissing and sucking into the crevice of your neck, making you arch your back. he held your body flush to his, gripping your thigh and shifting you so that you were almost in his lap, all the while continuing with his administrations. you took that chance to let your hands creep up his neck, hold him and caress his hair- those soft hair you always wanted to touch. you kissed his temple while he continued to kiss your neck, only drawing away when he was satisfied, grinning at the sight of the bruising spot.

you, however, didn't feel like grinning back, not when you were too absorbed in the overwhelming feeling of your heightened senses. not when your stomach flipped uncontrollably. not when your hands, off their own accord, traced his toned chest, sliding down to his stomach to hold his waist and look at him.

"i want you."

san felt his heart sink- what had he done-

"i want you. all of you. not just your kisses and your body, but your heart, choi san. i want your heart."

did he think that he would ruin you? yes.

but did he, for a short second, perhaps a moment of enlightenment, think that you would ruin him?

absolutely. and he should have known better than to kiss you in answer.

he should have known better than to take you home that night.

he should have known better than to accept your invitation inside your house because no one was home.

he should have known better than to accept everything you offered him in the spur of the moment.

and he should have known better because once he got a taste of you... he couldn't stop.

[plaguechyld]

Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!

i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol

first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)

cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.

The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.

The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.

Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.

The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.

A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.

Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.

Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.

Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.

Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.

In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.

This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.

Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.

But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.

Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.

And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.

Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.

Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.

The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.

But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.

The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.

Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.

The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.

It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.

In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.

You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?

The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.

As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.

This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.

You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.

The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.

Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.

It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.

As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.

“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.

“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.

You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.

This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.

You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.

It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.

The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.

Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.

You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.

You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.

A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.

And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.

Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.

So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.

Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.

Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.

All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.

And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.

Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.

“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss. 

It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.

Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue. 

So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.

He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.

His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms. 

You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.

Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.

Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.

It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.

Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.

“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.

Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-

Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.

“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.

Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.

But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,

“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.

“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.

With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.

Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.

The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.

But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.

You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.

A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.

“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.

A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.

“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…

Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.

Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.

“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.

Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.

“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.

“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.

“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.

You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.

Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.

Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.

He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.

“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.

Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.

Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.

“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.

And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.

Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.

Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.

“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.

Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off  like before.

“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.

So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.

You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.

You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.

His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.

“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.

However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.

Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.

But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.

So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.

“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.

Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.

“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.

You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.

Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.

You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.

“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.

Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.

He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.

“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.

“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.

With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.

You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.

However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.

He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.

Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.

He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.

A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!

Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.

But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.

Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.

“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.

Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.

So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.

“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.

Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.

Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.

“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.

Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.

He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.

Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.

You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.

A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.

Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.

“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.

How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.

You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy. 

Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.

In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.

You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.

The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.

He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.

You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.

“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.

[jiyascepter]

Kitchen Confessions | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Words: 2179

Warnings/Content: fluff followed by smut, reader and Loki are roommates, argument (almost like a banter), mutual pining, idiots who won't confess their love to each other, frustrated love confessing??, p in v, creampie, kissing, nicknames (love, sweetheart, darling), oral (fem receiving), loki gives soft dom vibes??

Summary: You give Loki some silent treatment.

"Fine, I don't care about you," he says casually, with that same challenging face he always carries whenever he talks to you, asking you to react to him, argue with him. But this time, his words actually gashed.

Did he really not care? Did he actually just see you as his roommate and nothing else all this time?

There was always some chemistry and some spark between you two, and you were aware it was always more than that. That understanding between you two, that flirting, being protective of each other, you were no stranger to it that you two used to behave like couples most of the time.

But today, in this heated argument you two just had, when he said those words, it did feel as if he meant that.

You frown slightly and look him in the eyes before turning around and heading to the kitchen, not wanting to talk to him in the slightest.

He watches you leave in front of him and head to the kitchen while he stands in the living room. He can't believe you actually fell for his act of not caring. He sits down on the couch with an agitated expression on his face. You will go back to normal after a while, he knew that, as you always did after every banter.

It had been hours now, you had not even spoken a word to him. Leave that, not even glanced at him. You were ignoring his presence. And he was hating that. You were going around the house doing your business, making yourself some food, and keeping your bedroom clean.

Gosh, you didn't even come to lay on the couch beside him to watch some television today.

Now you were in the kitchen again, and he could make out you were trying to find yourself an evening snack. He decides to join you in the kitchen, his annoyance at your avoidance was growing, and he was getting very tempted to go over and pull you back beside him and keep you there.

Your back was turned to him as you were facing the kitchen counter. You felt his presence near you but decided not to look at him and continued making your light sandwich.

He walks over to you and speaks in a slightly irritated tone, forcing it, as a part of him wanted to just wrap his arms around you and pull you close. "What's the issue? Why are you avoiding me?"

You don't look at him.

"Oh for the sake of-" he grabs your arm and turns you to face him. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

As if he doesn't know. The heights of this man.

To his relief, you finally look up at him and speak in a low tone, "I don't want to talk to you." He leans in pretty much face to face and speaks softly, his words carrying a bit of irritation. "I am starting to get annoyed."

"You're always annoyed. Nothing new." you reply.

A small smile forms on his face as you say this and he sighs as he can't stay serious anymore. The way you argue and complain is almost endearing to him and he cannot help it. His irritation finally gives it's way and his eyes lock on you.

"You are quite perceptive aren't you?" he says trying to hide his smile.

"Yes I am." you say, giving him a challenging look.

He stares at your lips then back at your eyes. "I have other emotions as well, you know that right?"

"Hmm…doesn't look like it."

He tries to suppress a small smirk as he speaks. "You think all I'm capable of is being annoyed and angry?"

"Yeah."

His smirk grows as he speaks softly, getting a bit closer. "Guess you are gonna have to see more of my emotions then…"

You slightly gulp as he gets closer but keep your guard. "Which…is probably not possible…"

He chuckles softly, "Who said it's not possible?"

"I did." you say and before he could get even closer, you turn around to face the kitchen counter again. Loki rolls his eyes and grabs your waist and pulls you back as he speaks in a more firm tone now as if he's trying to get his point across.

"You can't tell me what I'll do or how I feel, sweetheart." He grabs your wrist with other hand and pulls your body more tightly into his as he pushes his chest into yours.

"Yeah, but I can guess…" You say looking at him but regretting it a second later when you notice how close his face is, making your heart beat faster.

Meanwhile Loki cannot deny that you have a point. He starts to get flustered as he notices you breathing heavily and that you both are in an intimate stance that he cannot ignore. He looks at you with longing eyes and you can see that his body language was getting quite comfortable with yours. You look at his lips then shyly look away, rolling your eyes a bit to show you're still in the argument.

Getting frustrated with your avoidance, he does the only thing he knows how to do that might provoke a reaction from you: he grabs your jaw and turns your face to him, pulling you close. He leans close so that his lips are just a few inches away from you. He breaths softly on your face and looks at your lips before speaking in a soft and quiet tone."If you are avoiding me because you want me, then it's working."

Staring at him a bit surprised he figured you out, you say nothing.

Still holding you tight he leans even closer, his eyes now fixed on your lips as he speaks in a silky voice. "You are not gonna avoid me forever. I'm not going to let you..." He finally gives in and kisses you softly on the lips, his one hand keeping you tightly against him.

You both continue making out passionately against the kitchen counter.

After a few seconds he pulls away, looking at your face and stroking your flicks out of your face. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it was just watching you walk away like that and not being able to say I want you so badly? Your body language and how close you get to me sometimes....the way you're avoiding me, all it does is make me yearn to have you more. How can you think that's gonna make me ignore you? Your beauty is so exquisite and you think I don't care about that?"

"You-" you try to think of another complaint against him but his words get to you and a blush forms on your cheeks. The way you're blushing make it really difficult for him to stay infuriated.

"Do you have any idea what it does to me when you act this way? You are driving me crazy by making me want you more than ever. It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you." He says, not even believing himself he is confessing this. He pauses as he bites his lip, not sure he can resist his strong desire to grab you and take it to the next level.

"A-all sorts of things…?" you look up at him blushing.

So all this time this man was hiding these feelings? What an actor.

"All sorts of things. You don't even want to know what I would do to you if I were your boyfriend." You felt your heart coming out of your chest with this one. You look down shyly, not knowing how to reply to him anymore as you've been proven wrong that he doesn't care about you.

"Look at me. Tell me right now that you don't feel the same way. Tell me you don't want me to touch you and I'll stop." You look up at him and your eyes give him the obvious answer.

Face flushed with your admittance, he speaks softly as he stares into your eyes, "That's it, that's all I needed." He give your waist a squeeze and speaks, "Now let me show you just how much I wanted you all this time…"

He holds you by your waist tight as he leans in and begins making out with you passionately, he doesn't hold back or show you any restraint, his hands stay on your waist and he only pulls you tighter to his body.

There is a mix of dominance and passion in the way he makes out with you and he only continues to grow more passionate with each second.

As you're making out he slowly turns you so you're facing the couch behind you. He continues making out with you as he slowly bends down a bit and picks you up so that he's holding you in his arms. He's still holding you by the waist while he slowly starts walking towards the couch, still making out with you passionately.

He puts his hands beneath your skirt and squeezes your ass before setting you on the couch. Holding him by the shirt, you pull him onto you as you groan into the kiss. He puts his hand under your skirt and pulls down your delicate panties, his tongue still entwined with yours.

He retreats from your lips, planting tender, lustful kisses around your cheeks, jaw and earlobe. Your fingers stray across his smooth shirt, brushing across his firm chest. His erection was palpable through his pants, he leans in to get between your legs, on your pubic mound.

You squeal as he puts his lips around your earlobe and gives it a tiny bite.

"Admit it," he murmurs while reaching down to have his time with your neck.

"W…what…" you say in a voice filled with ecstasy.

"Admit that you wanted me all this time too, and I wasn't imagining it." He says this, and you feel the tip of his tongue roaming up your neck.

"L-loki," you moan, clutching his shirt tightly.

"Norns… just admit it." He says it loudly, and his teeth nip at your skin, and you squirm.

"I…I admit I wanted you…" You bite your lip.

Gosh, you wanted him in already.

"Loki…"

"Patience, sweetheart." He whispers while taking his time to take off your top and pulling up your bra to expose your hardened nipples. He takes one of your nipples in between his teeth and lightly pulls at it, making you whimper. He gives your nipple a lick before leaning down and lifting your legs, along with your skirt, to fully reveal your clit to him.

"So...pretty..." he remarks, removing his share of clothes while keeping his gaze fixed on your hole.

You become even more excited to have him inside you as he shows you his erection. You had no idea when your hand reached down and into his silky hair as he leaned down to kiss your clit while holding your thighs firmly in place. He kisses your hole, teasing it, teasing it so much that it made you a needy, moaning mess.

"Loki…please…" you almost beg. He pulls away and looks at you.

"Ready for me already, love?" You nod, and he cups your face and places a kiss on your lips for a second, then pulls away to take hold of his massive cock and slowly enter your hole.

You whimper and look at his face, then his bare shoulders, and hold your hands out to hold on to him, but instead he grabs both of your hands and pins them down on the couch.

"Stay still. No touching." You let out a whine and he buries his cock further inside you as if shutting you up. He moves his hips against your body at a steady pace, occasionally leaning down to kiss your lips or bite your neck. He was increasing his speed randomly and then slowing down, torturing your sweet cunt.

"I almost feel sorry for you…" he says, grabbing hold of one of your breasts and kissing your cheeks while his cock thrashes against your pussy.

"Ahh…mm…" You moan, and his hand squeezes your breast.

He was now moving his body almost brutally fast, and you can feel yourself drawing nearer. He gives you a sidelong glance while grinning.

"You want to come, darling?" You avert your gaze to him, open your eyes, and hum in agreement.

"Come darling…come over my cock…" he growls the last part while slamming his balls near your asshole.

"Ahh…fuck…Loki!" You yelled feeling his juices pouring inside you.

Gritting his teeth, he leaned on your body, letting go of your wrists and breathing heavily, your chests touching and you could feel his weight on you.

He inhales sharply and glances at you and your physique, admiring your form. You continue to breathe heavily while beaming at him.

"Now you will know what things I would do to you now that I am your boyfriend." He says as he stoops down to kiss your cheek.

Taglist in the comments because tumblr is acting buggy again

Want to be part of my taglist? Dm, comment or click this!

[byhees]

you being asked out in front of them.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 600 genre fluff established relationship non-idol au warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames light jealousy — more

a/n. requested— plagiarism notice

heeseung would gape at the person in pure disbelief; the nerve of them to approach you, especially when he has an arm wrapped around your waist? unbelievable; clears his throat to gain the attention of said stranger, a brow raised in light judgement; would lightly tug you close to his side, his hand very obviously resting on the dip of your hip; “me? jealous? as if”, he’d sulk afterwards, a scoff leaving his lips; and although those are the words falling from his mouth, the way he’s pulling you towards his embrace speaks otherwise…

jay would have noticed the person’s intentions right away; their eyes seem to wander and land on areas that are definitely off-limits to mere strangers. and judging by the shimmer in their eyes, they’re most definitely interested; drapes an arm around your shoulders, and pulls you close, eyes shifting to catch a quick glimpse of their reaction. “oh, babe”, he’d start, particularly emphasising on the petname; would instantly complain in sheer bafflement the moment they step out of the picture— “did you see that? you saw that, right? they were practically goggling at you!”…

jake would get so protective; in the blink of an eye, his arm’s wrapped around your build, closing any form of distance between your bodies; blatantly, and very shamelessly, asks for a kiss, his free hand raising to point at his lips— makes split eye contact with the stranger whilst doing so, because he wants to be sure that they’re witnessing all this; “c’mon baby, don’t be shy— give me a smooch right here”, he’d say, puckering his lips…

sunghoon would stare in silenced disbelief, because why is there a random person getting all up in your business— and face, with his phone? would definitely step in to help you out, even before things turn for the worse; engulfs you in a back-hug, his hands resting on the curve of your waist, his chin lightly perched atop your shoulder; “who’s this, love?”, he’d ask in faux curiosity, a small, forced smile etched onto his features; clings onto your side for the remainder of the night, because in his words, “you’ll never know when they’ll pop up! i’ve got to be here to protect my girl”…

sunoo would immediately, without a second of hesitation, tug you close; he’d make it so obvious that you two are romantically involved— initiates so much skinship, well, even more than usual, at that; slips in the petname ‘babe’ about five times in a single sentence, inadvertently emphasising the presence of said “boyfriend”…

jungwon would be flabbergasted beyond belief; is this stranger really outright, shamelessly at that, flirting with you, right in front of him? walks towards you both, and casually wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his own body; clears his throat with an obvious “ahem”, his eyes narrowing with every horrendously invasive line from the uninvited company; “she’s taken”, he’d snort in ever-growing irritation, his head lightly nodding towards your direction…

riki would be bewildered; they sure have got the guts, is what would whisk past his mind; would approach you two, an arm of his outstretching to drape over your shoulders, inadvertently towering over said stranger; “baby, who’s this? a friend?”, he’d ask, a forced smile making an appearance; would hold you close immediately afterwards, gaze absentmindedly trained on the disappearing figure beyond— “they were looking at you funny..” he’d say, a little pout falling on his lips…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[brainrotfm]

the sideshow spectacular: week one

☞ pairing: nurse!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

☞ word count: ~4.6k

☞ short description: yandere fertility nurse sukuna who thinks he's pulling a fast one on you except you're yan4yan and have masterminded this exact situation from the start

☞ content warnings: dark content, modern au, no curse au, yan4yan, yandere behavior, medical play kink, breeding kink, light bondage, inappropriate power dynamic, baby trapping, afab!reader, feminine descriptors + pronouns, blink and you miss it daddy kink, probably a lot more honestly i'm sorry for being a pervert

☞ notes: credit shhhhh don't look at what time this was posted i *definitely* made the cut off for week 1 also this came to me in a vision and then i feverishly wrote between today and yesterday also this is my first posted smut ever pls be nice also also also not beta'd not edited we die like men have fun xoxoxo

You have turned him into a monster.

You, with your kind smile, the way you offer it so carelessly to every person you meet. You, with your adorable gestures, fidgeting and fiddling with pens, magazines, the edges of your skirts as you sit in the waiting room. You, with those trusting eyes, lashes fluttering at every passing sensitivity. He could read your emotions clear as day, and spent too much of his time doing so, pretending to work behind an antiquated desktop as he side eyed you.

The other nurses had caught on, of course - ever watchful hens, they were quick to pinpoint his interest in you, tutting at him in the break room only for a moment about it being inappropriate to desire patients. Their admonishments turned teasing without him interfering, settling into their usual lust for office gossip without another acknowledgement. In truth, his coworkers were delighted, in fact, by the pink haired man "softening" over you.

This would have drawn his ire, even his retaliation in most instances. Until Sukuna realized he was purposely being slid your chart whenever your monthly appointment rolled around, an unexpected convenience in Sukuna's intricate plan to claim you as his own.

He had only heard of your husband in passing, the man only present at your introductory interview with the fertility team and the first few appointments before his obligation to you waned. Sukuna despised him for it on principle, but in practice, no other presence in the exam room meant having his bubble of heaven. A single half hour appointment, once a month, where he reviewed your chart, asked invasive questions about your health, took blood, gave the occasional ultrasound, offered advice on the repetitious nature of fertility treatments, and flirted his ass off as he watched you giggle and squirm under his attention. The prospect of cucking this faceless man only added to Sukuna's dark desires.

Today was finally the day. It was even circled on his desk calendar, red ink.

"You look handsome," you offered him the compliment easily, your voice obscuring the click of the door locking behind you both, back to him as you set your jacket on the extra chair. Sukuna preened for a second, smiling to himself.

Sukuna was wearing a tight, long sleeve black shirt beneath his favorite maroon red scrubs, the smallest hint of a chain beneath his collar, and comfortable black sneakers - none of his piercings, sadly, and since his interview, he had worn make up to cover his face and neck tattoos at work as well.

He knew you meant it too, as he diligently wore the exact same outfit to every one of your appointments since the first time you had complimented him all those months ago.

"Already buttering me up, you better not be trying to get out of your blood work," Sukuna teased as he opened one of the nearby cabinet drawers, retrieving his special black gloves that only he was allowed to use, quietly noting that none were missing with a smirk.

"You always remind me of a tattoo artist with those," you deflected, tossing him one of your oh-so pretty smiles.

"Y'know, I buy these with my own money, and I'm gonna let you in on a lil' secret... That's why, that's what I want you to think," Sukuna bantered back, so at ease around you that he rolled his sleeves up thoughtlessly before making a show out of snapping the nitrile against his wrists. He had never done that before.

You had caught wisps in the past, only question marks until today. Thick black bands of tattooed ink sat around his wrists, hidden now beneath his gloves that blended so well against them, it made sense why he liked them so much.

Your mouth went dry at the sight, licking your lips as you choked out to him, "I didn't know you had tattoos."

The tone of your voice had him raising a brow, lopsided smirk already in place, "Is that a deal breaker, baby?" If only you knew.

"Those can't be the only ones," you replied, and if Sukuna wasn't mistaken, there was a lilt of hope sitting between your words, causing his smirk to soften to a smile, his heart wrenching for a moment at you. You. He was going to ruin you.

That when he noticed that you were still standing awkwardly, your things deposited in the nearby chairs as you rocked on the balls of your feet, something about you seemingly overwhelming tense despite being in such good company. You were being different today too; Sukuna hoped you didn't sense something was amiss.

"Everything okay with you today, doll?"

"I, um... I was wondering if we could wait, actually, to do the ultra sound today," you started shyly, and he could tell you were fighting the urge to wring your hands as your fingertips jittered against your wrists. Despite your words, he continued to dig materials out of the cabinets, glancing at you over his shoulder as he spoke.

"You want to do blood first? Feeling bold today, sweet girl?" Sukuna hoped so, he had big plans for you. He turned from the cabinet to approach you to do the prep work. He didn't want to waste anymore time, but maybe having you light-headed from lack of blood wasn't such a bad idea - he stopped when he saw the look on your face.

"Is there any way I can have a physical exam today, actually? Y'know, like my annual one, but instead... now," your question was rushed as you looked toward him but not at him, and Sukuna knew this because he was staring you down, a predator honing in on his prey. He felt like he could hear your pulse from where he stood, and it made his mouth water.

"You mean your pelvic exam?" he repeated, almost dumbfounded at his luck - were you stupid or naive? Nurses didn't give pelvic exams, that was the doctor's job. Your chart only had an appointment for your usual round of bullshit, blood and ultrasound, Sukuna trying to upsell you hormones your insurance wouldn't cover, blah blah blah.

God, you were so pretty and dumb, was this on purpose? Were you trying to manipulate him? You'd been here enough times to know better, right ? When was the universe ever so giving? Sukuna figured there was really no way you'd fall for what he was about to try, sure this was your attempt at catching him red handed in his obsession over you, but he didn't care. He'd take the bait, even if it was a shot in the dark for you.

His head had cocked with his thoughts, a lopsided grin unfurling across his cheeks as he regarded you with darkening eyes, coughing to clear the husk of his arousal from his voice. "You know, the doctor has been in and out all morning. Something with her kids. I'd hate for you to get stuck waiting around for her. I could always administer the exam, if you'd like."

He very much could not, but he kept his wicked smirk in place, silently praying you wouldn't call his bluff. To Sukuna's delight, your gaze twitched between him and the exam table, knees rubbing together briefly before your hesitation subsided and you made a half step in its direction, wavering as you looked down at yourself. He understood in an instant, clicking his tongue in recognition as he went back to the drawers to dig out an exam gown for you, both your hands lingering on the package when he passed it forward.

"I'll step ou-"

"No, you can just... stay," you sounded much more confident now, cutting him off with a defiant look in your eye, the smallest curl of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, "You're going to see everything anyway, right? J-just turn around, maybe?"

You were so cute, he wished he could kiss you right then. Using every ounce of his control to suppress his smirk, Sukuna turned on his heel and faced the opposing wall dutifully, the urge to peek over his shoulder at you easy to resist when he knew exactly where all this was leading. As if the wheels hadn't been in motion since before you had even arrived today.

It was sort of erotic, though, to hear the jostle of your clothes hitting the floor, knowing you were naked and so close to him, and being unable to touch or see. Not yet. A little more patience and he knew he would reap the best of rewards. You cleared your throat when you were ready and Sukuna turned, unable to hid his smirk now that he saw you in the silly canary yellow exam gown they gave people here. You were still adorable, though.

Stepping to the side, Sukuna pulled out the lowest shelf of the table to act as a foot stool and help you up, before moving to each side to unfurl the arms of the stirrups he'd be putting your feet into. He couldn't think about it too much or his cock might hear, already on thin ice until you were properly restrained. The room had grown painfully quiet, Sukuna unable to continue joking with you when he was barely keeping his hands off you.

It was taking every ounce of his self control to not start panting and drooling like a dog at the way you quietly obeyed him, without question. So trusting... So easy, it took nothing to lead you down his path of corruption. His skin was starting to get hot, but Sukuna ignored the prickling beneath his shirt, knowing he needed to retain focus now more than ever. Oh, you were speaking. Fuck.

"I read online that during ovulation, there can be blockages that, like, can contribute to the problems I'm... having, you know," you were rambling, words rushed, and Sukuna realized you were embarrassed by the information you were offering. Cute, so fucking cute. You probably should be, it sounded like snake oil garbage, but Sukuna thanked whatever AI algorithm spat that nonsense into your brain as he nodded along.

"Hmmmm, well, that's only sort of true," he hummed through the lie easily, trying not to let his fingertips linger too long against the soft skin of your calf, your ankle as Sukuna strapped your left foot into place. He was even quicker with the right one, worried you may change your mind if he idled too long.

He used his foot to kick the rolling stool closer and sat down in a smooth motion. He couldn't give you a moment to think, because if he did, you may realize your mistake. Sukuna's hands were already beneath your gown as he rubbed both palms eagerly at your inner thighs, cooing from beneath you when you jolted at the sensation, "Hey, it's okay, it's just me. You trust me, yeah? I'm not going to hurt you."

Only some of it was a lie, but you eased regardless, somehow relaxing when you shouldn't be. Sukuna would've clicked his tongue, admonished you, if he wasn't the villain in this story.

"I'm going to look at you now," it was a command more than a question, not waiting for your consent before his hands are moving to your outer thighs, pushing the gown up easily, the fabric already wanting to give from the angle of your legs in the stirrups. It just needed some encouragement.

Glancing up at you, Sukuna noted your fluttering eyelashes and shallow breaths, and realized you probably needed some encouragement too.

"So beautiful," he couldn't stop his silky whisper, barely even trying to keep up the ruse that had put you here, careless as he finally gazed at your perfect pussy, splayed out wide for him. He wanted to touch. He needed to taste.

"Y-yeah?" the quiver in your tone perfect, and Sukuna fought the urge to moan at the entire situation, wondering how someone as bad as him could have such a perfect moment unfolding like this.

"My prognosis is that you have pretty pussy syndrome," Sukuna couldn't even stop himself now, having gone mad as soon as he could smell your arousal, spit pooling on his tongue as his fingers twitched on your thighs. He wanted to touch you everywhere. He wanted to have everything. He leaned closer, his breath beginning to fan over your folds, using two fingers to spread you even further, really expose every inch of you to him. He had dreamed of it for so long, Sukuna couldn't help but linger here, just a moment.

"I d-don't think you're supposed to talk to me like t-that," you wriggled beneath him despite your words, probably beginning to realize this may have been a bad idea, but it was too late for you. You'd have to scream, and to be frank, Sukuna would shut you up before anyone could intervene. He was too close to what he wanted to be stopped now - not that you would. The wetness leaking out of your pulsing little entrance reassured him.

"Yeah? That was unprofessional of me, wasn't it?" Sukuna feigned agreement before he was licked a flat stripe from your perineum to your clit, making sure to linger and kiss at the hooded bud once, twice before giving an experimental suck, earning him a pitched keen that had him grinning.

"But then why are you so wet for me, doll?" the pet name dripped venomously off his tongue as two deft fingers pinched and rolled at your clit, crimson gaze peering up your body at your reaction. The look on your face was almost enough to make him cum right there; your tongue was poking out between your lips as you panted, eyes hazy and hooded, unable to tear your gaze from where Sukuna sat between your legs and continued his ministrations. You already looked fucked out, and he was just getting started.

He laved his tongue gently against your rapidly engorging clit, another whimper falling from your lips when a fingertip started to tease at your fluttering entrance. Already so sopping wet with the prettiest slick he'd ever tasted, he was so entranced by you that he was hardly listening.

"T-this isn't... This is different than what-" You sounded so cute like this, all high pitched and whining. Needy for something you couldn't ask for, not yet, not that you'd have to - Sukuna knew he'd give it to you, give it all to you, give you everything he had.

"We're doing a different kind of exam, doll. I'm not your gynecologist," Sukuna chided back with a sharp laugh, his words full of a condescending mirth as he sunk two fingers deep into your cunt, fighting his own moan at how easily your pulsing hole gave way to him. A moment longer of watching your cunt gobble up his fingers to the knuckle and Sukuna was going to finger bang you to death, truly.

The nitrile gloves were definitely the culprit, the addition of all your slick eradicating any friction. To be fair, your pussy was tight enough that when your walls fluttered around the sudden intrusion, Sukuna had a momentary worry that making you cum might break his hand. It'd be worth it though, so the thought passed him by.

He curled his fingers deeper, prodding and scissoring against the gummy slick of your walls, searching for the spot that would make you sing. He knew as soon as he did, a sharp inhale followed by a whimper leaving your mouth, and the man fought against his urge to grin at all the pretty sounds you were making just for him. Because of him.

He shushed you, easing the pressure against your G-spot, just swirling the pads of his fingers in a circular motion as he purred your name before admonishing you softly, "I really do need you to quiet down, we can't disturb the other patients in the waiting room. Can you be good?"

Your bottom lip was firmly beneath your teeth but wobbling precariously, the sight of you adorable but albeit, not very reassuring. Sighing, Sukuna slipped his fingers out of you, which left you whimpering and squirming, much to his pleasure. Standing between your legs, he regarded you with a cold scowl for a moment before reaching down both hands to shove your exam gown higher from your hips , up up up, not stopping until he'd bunched it beneath your arm pits and freed the jiggling fat of your breasts to the chill in the air. You didn't even wear a bra, whore. His characteristic smirk was back in place at the newfound sight of you.

He couldn't help but stare for a moment. He didn't think he could get away with taking a picture, and he needed to commit this to memory.

After a moment, he reached for the hem of your gown again, this time bunching a fistful together before pressing it against your lips, his smirk going crooked with arousal when you took it with a tentative bite, the pretty doe eyes gazing up at him starting to water.

"Shhh, don't worry, I'm prescribing the perfect fertility treatment for you today, it's even covered by your insurance," Sukuna shushed, the comfort and sympathy offered obviously fake as his fingers tips caught on your entrance again, unceremoniously shoving three forward. Maybe Sukuna was the one who needed the gag - he all but groaned when half his hand sunk into your pussy without resistance, your messy hole squelching loudly for him.

Your eyes immediately rolled as he began an unforgiving pace, hammering his knuckles against your thinly stretched entrance, his other hand having shoved into his pants to fist his cock for even the smallest ounce of relief. Despite your muffled whines to the contrary, your hands began to smack helplessly against his shoulders, the only defense you had to the onslaught of pleasure as you were otherwise pinned and tied to the exam table, by your own wishes. You had, quite literally in Sukuna's opinion, asked for this.

Sukuna squeezed the base of his cock when your flimsy pushing against his chest finally registered, because you weren't even really trying to get him away, because you were still moaning like a little bitch. He almost came at the thought.

His thumb found your clit with ease, the poor thing swollen and begging for attention as he swiped against it, and he had been right in his earlier observation; the added sensation had your pussy clenching down around him so hard, one of his fingers folded over another, practically crushing his knuckles from pressing into you any deeper. You were about to cum for him. That wicked smile of his began to curl across Sukuna's features as his other hand left his cock to take over at your clit, flicking back and forth in a quick motion while the hand buried in your cunt gave several practiced tilts forward.

"Pretty little doll," he groaned hoarsely, pressing in hard against the spongy tissue of your G-spot until your back arched from the table, tits wobbling in the air. Sukuna knew what you needed, grunting a commanding, "Now, cum for me now," before surging forward to bite one of your perfect nipples, the sudden change in angle and added sensation your ultimate undoing.

Like a bow pulled taut, you snapped at your peak, a surprised shout barely escaping your throat before your cunt flexed hard, before splitting itself open with a gush of clear liquid around Sukuna's eagerly awaiting palms, the hand inside you stilled to let you ride on while he continued to lazily flick your clit, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could.

You were going to feel heavenly around his cock.

Sukuna felt his eyes roll back as he mercilessly pummeled his hips forward, unable to slow himself down, your cunt filled to the brim with his girth. His hand was grasped so firmly over your mouth, you could only helplessly cry out against his palm, laving your tongue and teeth over the skin for some amount of grounding sensation as the man ruthlessly fucked into you.

The stirrups had kept you spread wide for him, unable to wriggle away from pleasure and pain alike, and a puddle was forming on the floor as your needy cunt drooled around his abusive thickness. So perfectly fucked out, just for him. Your walls fluttering indistinctly from the spasms of your orgasms, your euphoria evident from your slick sodden pussy, your heavily lidded gaze, your labored gasps for air beneath his hand. Grinning, he pinched two fingers together and closed your nose, and your entire cunt clenched, and Sukuna barely stifled his own groan as he ricocheted into you with renewed vigor. He let go when your eyes began to roll, and it seemed that the flood of oxygen back into your brain combined with the frenzied thrust of his hips had you shattering around him once again.

"Oh my god, look at you," Sukuna choked out lowly, "you're just sucking me in, it's like-"

He was gazing down to where your bodies connected, wonder twinkling behind heavily lidded maroon eyes as he watched your cunt take him still, after already cumming twice and probably so sensitive, still. His heart hammered in his chest, the pressure at the base of his cock getting dizzying, making his mouth run as his brow furrowed, unable to take his eyes away from your drooling slit as he chased his high.

The exam room stank with sex, filled with the wet slaps of his hips and low grunts, your cum drunk mewls broken and pitchy and barely muffled by your spit-soaked gown. It was a wonder you both hadn't been caught yet, but at this point, it just seemed to be Sukuna's lucky day.

"You want me to cum in you, don't you?" Sukuna asked breathlessly, not actually caring for the answer, because this had been the point all along. The entire plan hinged on filling you to the brim with his seed.

"You want my fucking cum, you want to be bred by me and not your stupid fucking husband. You want me to fuck a baby into you, you dirty fucking whore, so shameless," as he spoke, his thrusts began to speed up, his control finally dwindling as he hammered recklessly into your perfect sopping cunt. He was unable to stop himself from reaching down to grind his palm against your clit, adoring the way your walls gripped his shaft, milking his thickness for all he was worth.

"It doesn't matter what you want, m'gonna do it anyway," he hissed, crimson eyes wide and wild and boring down at the pussy he planned to fill with his seed, absolutely deranged with his singularly focused obsession, and the sight had you shuddering around him again, your third orgasm unexpected for the both of you.

Sukuna had no chance against your spasming walls this time, his hand finding your throat and dragging you up for a ruthless, harsh first kiss. More of a mashing tongues before Sukuna cried out with a growl, dropping his head to muffle himself with a bite to your shoulder. Instinct shoved his hips forward, burying his cock as close to your womb as physically possible as he came, flooding you with warmth. His cock jumped inside of you, twitching and sensitive against your fluttering walls, both of you hissing and moaning softly as your hips continued to rock slowly, riding out the overstimulation.

Your chests were pressed skin to skin, Sukuna's head was still tucked in the space between your neck and your shoulder as you both came down from your highs, silent except for the shared panting. Sukuna was the first to speak, chuckling as he lulled his tongue against the mark he had left, kissing the already blossoming redness in a surprising act of tenderness.

"I marked you up pretty bad, doll, between that and my baby, I don't think you're getting away with any of this. What're you gonna tell your man?" Sukuna didn't know if it was pride or jealously twinging his words, but whatever it was, it tasted bitter on his tongue, despite all the blessings he'd received today.

A beat passed before you tried to sit up on your elbows, the angle of the exam table not exactly helping, once hazy eyes now trained on his, absolutely twinkling as you murmured, "Probably nothing, I guess... considering I'm not married." You wriggled beneath him, still pinned beneath his chest as you danced your hips back and forth around his softening length, making cum leak out and down your puffy slit in a proud display.

"What?" His cock hadn't even come out of you yet. You were gonna make him hard again if you kept that up.

You giggled, the sound sparkling with delight as you repeated, "I'm not married. That man isn't my husband."

"He's been here... It's part of our screening process."

"He's just some actor guy I hired. I don't even know him." You didn't even have the nerve to sound embarrassed.

"What does that mean? He gives samples-"

"I give samples on my 'husband's' behalf. Why do you think our treatments haven't worked?" your smile had grown wicked, a twin lopsided grin to the one he usually wore, pupils dilated as you admitted your sins, your pussy even giving a little spasm on his now rapidly hardening cock. You were getting off on this, you little she-devil.

"Then what's even the point in coming to a fucking fertility clinic if you're not-"

"All for this. All for you," your confession both the sweetest and most deranged thing he had ever heard of in his life, and that was saying something, considering... him.

His heart skipped a beat.

Sukuna was pretty sure he was in love with you.

You thought you had finally stunned him. You had, for a moment, like a flash bang. But Sukuna recovered quickly enough, reaching an expert hand down to drag the middle shelf out from the front of the exam table. He stepped his right foot forward before hoisting a knee to plant his left foot firmly on the stool, using the advantage of his palms already under your knees to unceremoniously shove you into deep mating press, no longer constrained by stirrups.

His fat cock could bully against your cervix easily now, and considering he never skipped leg day, his stamina in this position was nothing to be trifled with. He gave an experimental roll of his hips, sinking tip to hilt without any resistance, the movement causing you to shout hoarsely at how quickly his balls pressed against your asshole.

"Oh you fucking slut," Sukuna purred in delight, his condescension sticky sweet, "Since you want my baby so bad, we'll make extra sure it sticks this time, but you gotta be quiet and we gotta be quick." You opened wide as he grabbed a handful of his special black gloves from their box and balling them into your gleefully awaiting mouth. Leaning forward so you were caged against his chest, Sukuna rolled his cock deeply into you again, content with your muffled whine of ecstasy, before setting a brutal pace into your already cum sodden cunt.

"And call me Daddy this time."

[shibaraki]

PAS DE DEUX ┊ GOJO SATORU

tags: GN reader, no curse au (ballet), principal dancer gojo, reader is a photographer for his ballet company, fluff, flirting + casual touch, barre exercising, getting together, first kisses

wc: 2.4K

Gojo Satoru is just a man.

Albeit a coveted man, able to do anything on stage exactly as he would in rehearsal. High arabesques and tight pirouettes. Otherworldly form. Broad hands able to memorise another’s centre of gravity within the first twenty seconds. Swan-like and slender. All agile limbs, a body brazen with self-assurance and packed with strength, reflected in how effortlessly he can catch, spin, and dip his partners. Low, on perfect pointe.

A beautiful, talented, annoying man. That which has chosen to breathe down your neck as you fiddle with your camera, rather than occupy any other corner of the large studio.

“You’re distracting me, Satoru”.

“How am I distracting?” he asked, inclining his head. You gave him a look, and emphatically motioned at him from head to toe. Satoru cracks a grin, those piercing blue eyes gleaming, “By existing?”

“No, because you're all up in my space. I’ll show you the pictures in a second so back up,” you snap, your hand fluttering dismissively at him. “And put a shirt on!”

A low, vibrating hum, and a smile that holds a sincere gentleness to it that you wouldn’t have expected to find. He looks almost boyish. You turn from it and feel his presence move away like the sun being blocked out, steady warmth then the absence of it.

He does not put his shirt on. Instead Satoru takes position at the barre and walks his fingers along the top. Dawn filtered in through the small windows, casting a spotlight onto every dip and curve. You resolutely do not look at that narrow waist, nor how closely his tights clung to his hips, his thighs. Pulled over his soft soled slippers are a pair of grey stirrup leg warmers, bunched around his calves. He’s—

You draw a sharp inhale and refocus on the LCD screen, the neckstrap suddenly uncomfortably heavy.

Satoru is a bit older than most of the other dancers you photograph but no more mature for it. Granted he’s gentler in his discipline, more experienced, and always less eager for the practice to be over. He liked the day to drag on and on, especially if someone was watching him.

People said he was arrogant. Maybe that was a little true and with good reason. But your lense saw through the veneer that Satoru wore. Session after session, through rehearsals and classes and auditions, you saw pride for his craft, and how deeply he loved imbuing that love into his juniors.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so, but watching him dance felt transcendent. Whoever the pair, he made every pas de deux seem seamless, like two halves of the same entity coming together. Solo he was in a league of his own. Sometimes he danced as if he loved beyond the scope of his skin. Sometimes he danced as if the whole world had betrayed him.

“How’d I do this time?” you hear him ask in that very cavalier way that betrayed his interest immediately, becoming antsy in your prolonged silence. “Pretty good, right?”

Today you managed to shoot him demonstrating a particularly heartbreaking variation of a grand jeté. He reached the peak and fell so gracefully that you’d felt the whole room hold its breath. Another beep and the camera screen flickers to that very photo. Right leg stretched anterior, his left posterior to his body, evenly split into a horizon as he soared through the air. Rather than poise to mimic an elegant wingspan he had curved an arm into an arc over his face, almost as if in anguish, while the other draped behind him.

“Why ask if you already know?” you deflected, switching to the next photograph. “You definitely have a flair for the dramatic”.

“Maybe I want to hear it from your mouth,” you can hear the layered petulance behind his words. It makes you restless to think your praise could hold any significance to him. “Tense today, aren’t we? You should do some barre exercises with me. Loosen you up a little,” he continues, clicking his tongue. “I could even teach you some steps”.

You snort lightly, “That’s a ridiculous idea”.

“I don’t think so,” Satoru disagrees, a contemplative tone to his voice. Intensity returns to his gaze as it roams over your form. “You’re the only person in the company I haven’t danced with yet. Can you blame me?”

“It wouldn’t be dancing, Satoru. You know I can’t dance,” you insist, or so you think, the weak response barely audible over the heartbeat flooding your ears. “I’d look like a fucked up marionette”.

A hand crosses your line of sight. You hadn’t even noticed his approach. Satoru plucks the camera from your slackened grasp and slips the neckstrap over your head in one swift movement. “Then let me pull your strings,” he teases, proffering his open palm. Your throat grows dry.

“That was awful,” you tell him, clutching to whatever dignity you have left. Then you take it. Long fingers enclose over your knuckles and he smiles.

Sometimes when you want something you’ll take it in whatever manner the universe is willing to give it.

“Ha. Worked though”.

As mercy would have it, Satoru guides you as he would a beginner. You’ve lived and worked amongst dancers for years. Your mind is familiar with the lifestyle, the lingo and the routine, but your muscles are not. “Another rep. Heels together with your toes turned out—that’s it, bend slightly,” your pulse rockets at the light touch to your hip, firm yet gentle in encouraging you to bend. The room is much hotter than you recall. “Place one foot in front of you. Point. Now sweep it around to the back in a C-shape,” warmth lingers where his fingertips had been as he steps back. “Point your feet,” he says, his lips suddenly close to your ear.

“What—?”

“As you circle,” Satoru repeats. “Point your feet.” You exhale and repeat. “Hm. Good at taking instructions, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” comes your shaky response, already feeling clammy. It doesn’t escape you that he still hasn’t put a shirt on. Your inner thigh muscles are burning. Satoru laughs and the irritation ebbs away because he sounds happy. Giddy, even.

“This one will open your hips nicely,” Satoru finds your waist again and pivots you to face the barre. His body heat seeps through your t-shirt where he’s pressed against your back. Hands slide beneath your arms and down to your wrists, delicately placing them atop the barre. “Keep taking deep breaths for me. Bend your knees—hold,” the ache forces your eyes shut for the five seconds he keeps you inert, plunged into fleeting darkness with just his low, honeyed voice to guide you.

This really was a terrible idea.

“Rise to plié,” Satoru murmurs. “Up into demi-pointe. There you are, now hold again”.

Shadows pool into the studio space as the evening draws on. You’re rendered a sticky mess, and not in the manner you’d have liked. Wondrously, and despite the soreness that will no doubt wear in tomorrow, you had begun to feel you were working with your body and not against it.

Satoru had barely broken a sweat. You take comfort in the splotchy flush covering his cheeks and how his chest rises and falls, both signs of exertion. Equally as distracting. “You’re almost a natural,” he says, running a hand through his silky white hair.

Unsteady on your feet, you roll your eyes skyward while the burning in your lungs dwindles. “Sure. We’ll be onto our own pas de deux in no time,” you joke offhandedly. But Satoru’s expression wanes into something like longing in your periphery. Fondness, and then to amusement.

“Maybe not. Your pointe needs work,” he says.

“Well excuse me, big shot. I’m not even wearing the right shoes—”

“Want to try some lifts?”

A stone of dread drops into your stomach. The barre digs into your lower back as you lean against the wall, “We do some—some routine warmups and you think I’m ready for partnered lifts?!”

Satoru’s voice remains steady but his lips are starting to purse as he mirrors your posture, “I can take your weight”.

You didn’t doubt it. Satoru’s ability appeared to defy physics all together and that translated well with his counterparts too, whoever they may be. You’ve seen him lift people of every different shape and weight. Each one would become weightless in his embrace.

“No. No lifts,” you tell him, trying for a cadence that inspired authority. Satoru arched his brow and you got the sense that to him you were akin to a small disgruntled cat. Whether it’s the fatigue that lowers your inhibitions or plain pettiness, you hear yourself say, “I think you just want an excuse to touch me more”.

A pulse of magnetised desire rippled through the atmosphere. You don’t miss the way his breathing hitched, or how the hand absently rubbing the back of his neck stilled only for a moment before falling to his hip. Satoru swallows. Your eyes follow how his thumb strums the waistband of his tights—tights that leave very little to the imagination.

Anticipation prickles through your belly when he takes a step forward, then another, until his nose bumps your own. “You’re not supposed to say the quiet part out loud,” he murmurs, a little breathless. It ghosts across your lips. There’s trepidation in his gaze, searching your expression for rejection or discomfort, neither of which he will find.

You are reminded again that for all his apparent confidence and talent, Gojo Satoru was still very much human.

Your hands lingered in the narrow space between your bodies. Restlessly clenching, uncurling. Not knowing where to put them. The bare skin of his abdomen brushes your knuckles. “Satoru,” you begin.

He hums, palms coming to rest on your hips. He leans into you, emboldened by the invocation of his name, and echoes yours back.

“Did you seriously…” your thoughts drift as he dips lower, lingering. The blood rushes to your head. You could easily tip your head, align your mouths, and bring him into a kiss. Somehow the simplicity of that makes this whole charade even more laughable. “Don’t tell me you made me do a workout instead of just asking me on a date like a normal person”.

The response registers visibly on his face. He blinks, delicate pale lashes fanning over his cheeks, and in the next breath he’s lighting up, eyes first, glittering urainian blue. “That was hardly a workout,” he says, warmth bleeding into his voice. “It was a warmup”.

“Warmup my ass”.

“Can, if you want”.

Laughing, you cradle his jaw and say, “Stop being annoying and kiss me”.

Satoru’s hands have slipped beneath your shirt. He squeezes, smiles at the feel of soft flesh yielding under his thumbs, “Alright”.

Always has to have the last word, you think amusedly. Satoru pressed impossibly close. The barre has since become numb where it prods at your back. Your lips part as he tilts and your mouths brush, want knotted deep in your belly. It is slow at first, hesitant. But every movement of Satoru’s lips turns into sweet affirmation. Quick, then long, then greedy.

You wrap your arms around his neck and feel him shudder as you suck gently at his plush bottom lip. He paws at you with more fervour, languidly licking into your mouth. Soft wet sounds reach your ears and a contented hum reverberates through your skin that you can’t help returning. You feel his lips stretch thin into a smirk.

When you eventually part for breath your chest is pounding. He watches you closely. Half lidded and entirely too pleased. Something about the certainty and satisfaction stunned you then. Coloured the world around you in roseate. “You really do like me, don’t you?”

Satoru doesn’t falter. Quiet and deeply amused, he replies, “What gave it away? The constant pestering, the always staying behind after hours, the never wearing a shirt, the—?”

“Okay, okay. I get it,” you sighed, smoothing your palms down his bare chest simply because you can. “…I like you too, you know”.

“Yeah?”

You hummed. “What gave it away? The constant pestering?” you kissing the corner of his mouth, “The always staying after hours?” and then his cheek.

Satoru turns quickly to chase as you recline, nipping at your mouth. “Point taken,” he rumbles, pinching at the fabric of your shirt and lightly tugging it. “Pattern dictates this should go, next”.

“You know we need to lock up. If I let you start we’ll never stop,” you laughed, wriggling out from his embrace. The studio will be shrouded in complete darkness soon, and now you both need to shower. Satoru reluctantly lets you go, trailing after you as you collect your camera and pass it between your hands.

The screen flickers on, back to that incredible grand jeté. Satoru hooks his chin over your shoulder. “You really do photograph beautifully,” you think aloud. His jaw shifts and you can tell he’s smiling. “What were you thinking about, when you jumped?”

Satoru sniffed, not even pretending to think of something profound. “Mochi stuffed with whipped cream and zunda”.

You sigh fondly, eyes falling closed. Beautiful, talented, annoying man indeed.

[satocidal]

Sports Team Captain—Satotu Gojo

Tw: !NSFW!MDNI!; Gojo Satoru x AFAB! Reader; hinted bullying(?); hair pulling; spanking; mentions of sex toys; idk sex?; slight hints of vouyerism; slight threesome with Geto

Student Council President! Geto Suguru

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who's eye caught yours after game he'd just won- the smirk on his face widening when he saw you.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who's large hands- always admired, by his peers when he catches the ball ever so swiftly, by the girls because he's ever so nice—by you as he stuffs his fingers in your cunt.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who's made it a “tradition” to fuck you right before his game and also right after~ “we'll lose otherwise—you wouldn't want to be responsible for that, right?”

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who's made it every clear to his team that you're his- and his only —now be it with the way he kissed you knfrimt of them in the locker or be it in the way he glares at his team members when they look at you a second too long.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who flirts shamelessly with the cheerleaders to make you jealous, “we're not dating,” he chortles everytime but lords be forgiven if you dare to even touch his team mates.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who'll pick on your insecurities so much so you cry because he loves tears straining your eyes- and right after he'll make you ride his cock until all you can mumble are ‘yesyesyes’ and ‘please- fuck—Toru’!’. However he stops only when you scream that you're gorgeous in every sense.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who threatens to fuck you right in front of his teammates just because you congratulated each—he threatens to make sure that he's the only guy who’ll ever look at you, and knowing him, you wouldn't take chances.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who'll sneak you out of class with the excuse of practice—when everybody knows you play no sports but fortunately, you never get questions.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who never messages you his filthy and dirty thoughts, he writes it down—makes a paper plane and throws it at you amidst class knowing all too well on to how fast it makes heart beat everytime.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who comes back to take out his frustrations after practice matches on you—pulling your hair all too much as he bites on your collarbone, thinking of nothing but controlling you in that moment.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who carries you out to his practice and plays extra well to show off—only to spread your legs in front of the gym mirror once everyone leaves—finger fucking your cunt and making you cum as many times as he scored.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who’s well accustomed to hypersensitive muscles—which is why he loves overstimulating you, chuckling as you desperately try to hold off his hands and push his face away from your swollen clit.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who knows you have a poster of him in your room (he didn’t make you put it) and loves fucking right in front of it.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who stuffs random love letters and sex toys in your locker—but be prepared for it’s a heads up that he’ll be using those that night.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who will bend you across his knee if he loses a match— spanking your cute little ass to his satisfaction.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who, however doesn’t lose as many matches so as to not let your ass lose the warm tint, he sparks you everytime he fails or almost fails a test.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who comes to you for tuitions and if you help him pass he’ll reward you by stuffing your cunt with his cock and doing everything you want.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who adores you despite his mean presence and will do everything you see your eyes roll back with pleasure.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who’s got the stamina of a beast which he perfectly uses on your birthdays.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who makes little clips of your sessions for himself—his large hands pumping fast at your thought.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who loves to watch you rub your own pussy—knowing he’s all so much better at pleasuring you.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who will bend you over his car- in the parking lot during classes- out so publicly, shamelessly rutting into you— going all the faster whenever someone approaches you.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who knows it’s his best friend, Student Council President! Geto Suguru—whom he’d tipped off earlier.

Sports Team Captain! Gojo Satoru, who loves fucking you in front of his best friend while Geto calls you their filthy slut as he sucks on your tits.

Sports Team Captain Gojo Satoru, who loves when you wear the gym shorts- casually slapping your ass everytime he walks by.

Sports Team Captain Gojo Satoru, who makes you wear vibrators to his game—increasing the intensity everytime he scores so both of you reach pleasure when he wins the match.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and reblogs highly appreciated!

[muniimyg]

TO BE (yours) // KNJ

he'll give in... right?

+

oc has always had a crush on her bodyguard, nam joon. when her monthly family dinner goes to shit, she turns to him for comfort. tonight, it was different. tonight, he just might give her exactly what she wants

navi | m. list | ask me !

pairing: bodyguard nam joon + heiress oc 

au/genre:

bodyguard au

one shot

porn with(out) plot

warnings: oc has some grandma issues, oc is insanely unhinged (oc makes nam joon watch as she pleasures herself), masturbation/fingering (oc makes him hold her hand while she fingers herself), nipple play, blow job (oc chokes), slapping (of face and ass) and riding... name calling (joon calls her a slut, whore, and bitch), cockwarming ?? making out,, yeah idk ! find the rest out for urself ;)

note: happy birthday @joonsjuice LMAO

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

“I hate this fucking life!” 

Before you can slam your bedroom door shut, a foot is placed to prevent you from doing so. 

You huff, knowing exactly who is following you.

There was no point putting up a fight. Regardless of what you do, you know exactly how he would handle you. So, you move on. You focus on your feelings and the stress wrapped around it. As you take off your skirt and unbutton your blouse, he makes his way to his regular position.

Nam Joon stands beside the door, feet firmly planted on the ground, his hands placed in front, and his gaze straight ahead. If this was any other bodyguard, their presence would irritate you and ignite your anger even more… But this was Nam Joon. 

It’s different. 

Oddly enough, there's a sense of comfort when he's around. It feels like it's okay for you to be angry and throw a tantrum. He'd cover for you. He'd protect you. He'd deal with you.

Regardless, this is routine.

Once a month, you attend your infamous grandmother’s family dinner. There, you’d share your company’s progress and plans, and receive criticism.

No praise.

No empathy.

No encouragement.

It is never good enough for her. Even though you have a more successful business than your siblings and cousins—it meant nothing To your grandmother, it didn’t matter.

It always better.

To do better.

To be better.

After these horrendous dinners, you’d go home in tears. The pressure she’d put on you is often unnecessary, but you feel it. To your very core, you feel how intense the need to please her is.

Sometimes, you were angry. Often, you were sad.

For comfort, you’d typically contact your family friend, Jung Hoseok for some… Release. Sometimes, it was talking things through. Other times, it included fucking… But those nights were rare.

During those times, Nam Joon would wait outside the door. It made you wonder that night if he liked what he heard… Or if he felt jealous…

If he even gave it a second thought at all.

You see…

You’ve been unhinged since birth. By your grandmother’s orders, she hired a bodyguard service for you. To keep you in check or whatever (as if you’re this wild child that isn’t running the biggest company in your family). To keep you safe. To keep an eye on you. To keep you from doing bad things.

Sucks to suck because the only bad thing you want to do is your bodyguard. 

Thank you, Grandma!

When Nam Joon came into your life, it felt like Christmas. He’s tall, handsome, smart, and funny in his own ways. If anything, he’s perfect for you. Aside it being his job, you really feel like he knows you. Your next moves and even your feelings—he’s good at predicting and protecting them.

It’s like not you could hide your intentions and attraction either. No, you take any and every chance to flirt with him.

Truth be told, you really need him to dick you down.

“Crazy how I’m literally changing in front of you and you would rather look at the wall,” you tease, as you unclip your bra and throw it at his head. 

Nam Joon removes your bra from his head and continues to stay silent. Him ignoring you is something he does when he knows your emotions are high.

Rolling your eyes, you open your closet and grab your pajamas. You chose wisely, of course… You noticed Nam Joon’s eyes linger a little longer when you wear flimsy things. So, that’s exactly what you wear tonight.

A little ditzy floral pyjama set.

The fabric itself is thin and tight, making it easy for your nipples and the curve of your breast to be outlined. The shorts are practically panties… Guess you won’t be needing underwear either, right? 

Once you put on the top, you bend down to take your underwear off. You throw it back, aiming for his head again. Perfectly, it lands just where you want it to.

“Oops! Sorry, I meant to get that in my laundry bin.” You explain, laughing as you put the shorts on. 

You see Nam Joon’s shoulders rise and fall. He sighs, as he takes your underwear off of his head and places it in your laundry bin for you. 

Cutely, you bump into him as you make your way to bed. Nam Joon purses his lips at you, almost feeling the need to choke when he sets his eyes on your pajamas. 

You were doing this on purpose.

He knows it.

Tilting your head at him, you ask, “Do you like it?”

Nam Joon clears his throat as he stands to the side. Gestures at your bed, he ignores your question but replies with; “you’ve had a long day, Ms. ___. Please go to bed.”

“You know what else is long?”

“Ms. ___—”

“Oh, come on!” you whine, as you drop to your knees. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve asked.”

“It’s also not the first time I’m saying no,” he chuckles. Then, he bends down, grabs you by the waist, and lifts you. 

Your heart begins to race as he carries you.

He’s done this only a couple of times—more because you were having a temper-tantrum and he had to remove you from the environment. There was also this one time when you were crying so much at your grandmother’s dinner table that he swooped in like a knight in shining armour. That was probably the day you felt something for him…

A feeling beyond your wet pussy, that is. 

Nam Joon sets you gently on your bed. As you lay, you reach for his hand. He turns to you and blinks.

“Joon…”

“Did you need something?”

“You.”

He squints his eyes at you.

“Go to sleep, Ms. ___.”

“Awh, come on!” you cry as he leaves your side. You miss your heart fluttering already. “You don’t even have to make me cum—”

With a warning tone, he interrupts you. “Goodnight, Ms. ___.”

Annoyed, you shift around your bed and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Unfortunately for you, all you can think about are your grandmother’s harsh words from tonight's dinner and the silence of your siblings and cousins whose lips did not even twitch to defend you.

Your grandmother’s invasive words begin to consume you. The feeling is… Horrible. It was rough, to say the least. Maybe, instead of distracting yourself… You could use Nam Joon for something else. 

“Do you think my grandma hates me?” you ask with a weary tone. 

Nam Joon reaches over to dim your bedroom lights and takes his time to walk back to his placement. As he does so, he thinks about it. This was also routine of you….

To hit on him, to get sad and look for comfort, and then finally go to sleep. It wasn’t every night—just the family dinner ones. On the regular, it would just be you making one or two flirtatious commentaries and then falling asleep as soon as possible. 

Moments where you look for validation and comfort he thinks these are the purest moments of you. The fact that you’re about to rest, but can’t because you’re reflecting on the things that make you feel uneasy… Well, let’s just say that it’s on the list of reasons why he hasn’t quit his job. Aside from liking his profession, he also likes you. 

There’s never a dull moment. 

“I think she just wants you to be the best.” He answers plainly. “She just doesn’t express it well.”

You sigh. “So that means what I do right now isn’t the best? It’s not good enough? Is that it?”

“No,” Nam Joon shakes his head. “I think she expects more because you are more. The potential she wants from you is real because it lives in you. She’s impatient about seeing it, but business is all about growth and building. Ms. ___, you know you’re amazing, right? You’re perfect. Your grandmother could never hate you even though it may feel like it.”

Snickering, you cross your arms. “Are you just saying that because you’re on her payroll?”

“No,” he assures you. “I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Besides, you’re smart enough to know when I’m lying anyway.”

His words hit you. 

Suddenly feel better. There’s no other way of explaining why. Sometimes, all you really need is a friend… But being friends with Nam Joon?

You hate that. 

“... So, you think I’m amazing?”

Nam Joon doesn’t respond. 

So, you try again.

“If I’m so amazing… Then, why don’t you want me? No one’s here, you know! It’s just you and me. Nothing bad is gonna happen… You don’t need to protect me—”

“Ms. ___—”

“I’ve wanted you for so long… You know it too! Come on, I know you just as well as you know me—“

“Highly doubt that, princess.”

“I want to know you… All of you,” you confess, quickly getting out of bed. You stand in front of him and look up at him. Batting your eyelashes, you try to sound as innocent as possible. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Nam Joon feels a shiver.

He gulps as you place your hand on his chest, slowly moving it around to feel him. In an even slower motion, you begin to slide your hand down from his chest to his abdomen. He lowers his gaze at you as you give him pleading eyes. Gulping, he watches your hands make their way to his belt. 

Then, he stops you. 

Just as you’re about to unbuckle it, he grabs your wrists and pulls you up. 

“I don’t want you.”

His words cut deep and his tone is harsh. 

Too harsh. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you’re well aware of. In that understanding, you don’t feel so awful anymore. So, you keep your head high. If he wants to play like this, then so be it. 

Let’s play. 

“Good thing I’m smart and I know when you’re lying.” You then place your hand on his cheeks and squish his lips together. Tiptoeing, you place a small kiss on his lips. 

Nam Joon is caught off guard. 

This never happened before! It never went this far…

He thought he was immune to you. In a cliché sense, he didn’t this would happen. He’d be an idiot to not recognize that sexual tension between you two since the very beginning—but he never pictured it like this. 

He never pictured his dreams to come true. 

Just as Nam Joon is about to give in, you pull away. 

It’s then that he hates himself. He wishes he spent more time memorizing the way your lips felt against his. Who knows if you’d ever do this to him again, right? This was a once-in-a-million for him. 

You’re his one. 

“Since you want to stand there and watch… Fine. Stand there and watch.” 

Without saying another word, you twirl his tie in your hand and gentle tug him to follow as you make your way back to your bed. Nam Joon doesn’t really move though. He stays still, only letting his head turn as you let go of his tie. He watches with lustful eyes as you crawl onto your bed. Positioning yourself, you lean your back against your headboard and sit up in a way where you can comfortably plant your feet. Nam Joon’s eyes almost fall out of his head the second you suck on your fingers, open your legs, and shove your lubed fingers inside your shorts. 

Nam Joon feels stuck.

He should look away, right? For some reason, he can’t. He has looked the other way every time you changed or tried to kiss him… Tonight, was different.

Tonight, he was weak. 

As you let out a breathy moan, you begin to rub yourself. 

Feeling the way your soft pussy is against your fingers, you whimper at the thought of Nam Joon caving and taking his place in between your legs. You apply some pressure and rub circles on your clit. Doing this begins slowly, but as you stare at Nam Joon in his suit, you can’t help but feel sensations in your pelvis. You rub yourself faster, feeling your legs tighten as you do so. 

You rub yourself for what feels like a good 5 minutes. Noticing how quiet it suddenly became and how he’s not making any comments, you take this opportunity to tease him. 

With a small voice, you ask, “N-Nam Joon… A-are y-you watching?”

He doesn’t respond. 

“Can y-you look at me, p-please?” you stutter through the sensation. “I’m touching my pussy for you… So you have to be watching, okay? This is for you.” 

Expecting silence, Nam Joon surprises you with his words. 

“I’m watching, princess.”

You feel a relief. 

In an even softer tone, you whine, “Good. D-do you like it? Do you like what you see? Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” he confesses. “Doing so good, princess. Don’t stop.”

Biting your lip, you spread your legs out even more. As you rub yourself, you squirm from the feeling of this not being enough. 

Meanwhile, Nam Joon feels like he’s stuck in a trance. He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you pleasure yourself. He wishes to do it for you… But not yet. A part of him is curious to see how far you can push yourself. How much can you take? How far will you go? He wants to know when he’s needed… He wants to wait it out and let you have this. 

“My pussy is leaking through my shorts… Is it pretty?”

Nam Joon’s breath hitches. “Yeah. It’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you think so… I’m thinking of you. You made this mess.”

The truth is, he’s afraid when you give this to him… He won’t be able to quit. He’ll be selfish. He’ll have you any way he wants and ignore what you want. So, this is him being considerate. This is him being patient. This is him letting you have your fun. 

“Should I stick my fingers inside?” 

He utters a hiss... Yet, with a soft tone, he encourages you, “Do what you want.”

“I need help.”

Nam Joon huffs. “You can do it yourself. If you can start this, you can finish.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “A-arghh, fine… Can you hold my hand though?”

He raises a brow. 

But he also picks up his feet and makes his way to you. 

He stands on the side of your bed and offers you his hand. Gladly, you take it. With your other hand, you split your folds open. Tugging on his hand, you pout. 

“Can you spit on it? I would do it but… Your spit would help me cum faster.” 

Too stunned to speak, Nam Joon sucks his inner cheek, runs his tongue along his teeth, and gathers spit from the back of his throat. He then leans over and—

“Mhmm,” you moan, massaging his spit in your pussy. “Fuck, that got me so horny. Are you horny?”

Nam Joon glares at you. 

“Hurry up and cum,” he hisses. “ I’m supposed to be watching—”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Nam Joon gets the feeling you’re alluding to something completely different from his job. It makes him sick to his stomach that he’s fucking into it. God, did you have to be this compelling? All he can do is push you away… At least, try to. 

“This is getting ridiculous.”

You let a small laugh escape your lips. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs. 

“Nam Joon, you’re holding my hand, spitting on my pussy, and about to watch me finger myself… Me asking you if you’re horny is where you’re deciding this is ridiculous—”

“___, just fucking cum already.”

Instantly, you roll your eyes at him. 

The attitude.

He needs his dick sucked or something.

In response, you wiggle your fingers at him. He gives you a blank expression and turns away for a moment. You take that as your sign to start. With one finger, you insert it inside you. Your pussy clenches and your reaction extends to you squeezing Nam Joon’s hand. As you finger yourself, you try to focus on hitting your climax. 

It’s much more frustrating than it is easy. The man whose cock you desperately want inside of you is just fucking standing there while your fingers do you no justice. 

So, in the silence of your dimly lit bedroom, you shut your eyes and imagine him more intensely. You imagine Nam Joon’s fingers inside you. You imagine how his lips would feel against your skin. How his soft tongue would feel like giving your clit kitten licks. You moan at the very thought, and get excited over the fact that he’s actually here. Even though he’s not touching you the way you want right now, at least he was here. 

He was watching.

Listening to every whimper.

Every breathy utter of his name. 

Then, you feel the sensation in between your legs take over. You pump your fingers faster and lazily begin to rub yourself to finish off. You squirm, murmuring his name in between breaths.

Nam Joon can’t stop watching the way your pussy spreads and how tiny your fingers are. Every time you squeeze his hand, his eyes dart to the way your pussy gets more swollen. On top of that, he loves the way your chest rises. Your nipples are so fucking hard right now. 

He’d kill to lick them. 

To bite them. 

To suck on them. 

Fuck it.

Maybe he should fold. 

So lost in thought, he misses it. In a blink of an eye, you cum and let out a lewd moan. As you catch your breath, you let go of his hand and massage your pussy. 

“Are you finished?” Nam Joon asks. 

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I guess. It was fun but honestly? I’m still horny.”

“Not good enough?” 

“You tell me,” you grab his hand and tug him to your pussy.

He didn’t expect it.

It’s too late for him. By the time he registered what you were doing, his fingers were already inbetween your folds. You hold his wrist and control the way he touches you. Dragging his hands up and down, you feel tingles begin again. 

“See? I came, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Nam Joon stutters for the first time tonight. “So wet.”

You scoff. “I usually cum more than this… This is so weird! I don’t get what I did wrong. I thought of you as usual—”

“Princess…” He takes his hand away, signaling you that you’re crossing the line. Shrugging, you offer him an innocent look. “Don’t.”

“Taste me,” you suggest. “If you don’t like the way I taste then you can go back to your little spot over there and do whatever you want. You can keep listening and watching me pleasure myself… But just know, I won’t cum for a long time. I’m horny as fuck but I just can’t get off all by myself! It’s too hard… Deal?”

“Deal? You’re insane,” he grumbles. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I do…” you assure him. “Do you hear me? Because it doesn’t have to be like that. You can stand over there—hey, I’ll even let you jerk off—or you can do it yourself. Make me cum. Fuck me as hard as you can. Take what you want. Your choice.” 

Nam Joon gulps as you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck. Tilting your head at him, you look into his eyes and wait for his decision. 

Nam Joon waits for a second too long. 

Your gaze softens as you take his silence as a no. That’s okay. You can just keep touching yourself and drag it out longer. It’d be fun for you anyway… This was his loss. 

As you pull away, just as you’re about to lay down, Nam Joon cups your cheeks and crashes his lips against yours. He kisses you deep, slipping his tongue in. You waste no time, finding his tongue and sucking on it as he pull away for air. You smile against his kiss, and continue to make out with him. His hands travel from your cheeks to your breast and holy shit.

You’re so fucking happy.

He palms your breasts and pays special attention to your nipples. They’re so hard and sensitive. He knows it. So, he takes his time.

First, he pitches them lightly. You gasp and he laughs into the kiss. Mumbling, “sorry, sorry… my bad, princess,” into your kiss. He runs his thumb over your nipples, stimulating your drive evn more. He then twists them and earns another gasp from you. This time, a moan follows. Next, he cups your entire breast with his hands and squeezes them. Pulling away from the kiss, he scrunches your top over your breasts and dives in. 

He licks your nipples, slaps your breasts, and bites them. 

God, when he bites them—

“O-okay, okay,” you stop him, “gonna need you to start fucking me or else I’m gonna cum with you just doing this.”

“Like me that much?” he teases.

You glare at him. “Might lose interest after seeing your dick though.”

With that, Nam Joon folds. 

He towers over you, as your hands instantly make their way to unbutton his shirt. Midway through, he kisses you. It’s deep and desperate—like he has wanted this for so long too. 

When his shirt is off, you move on to unbuckle his belt. You do it as quickly as possible, ever so happy to finally be able to see his length. Taking his pants off, he tosses them aside.

You can’t believe it. 

His cock is so perfect. 

It’s chiseled like it’s meant to be art. 

“Okay, y-yeah,” you choke. “I’m interested.”

Before he can even respond, Nam Joon throws his head back from the pleasure of you sucking his dick. Holy shit, you just went for it. 

As your mouth wraps around his tip, you take in how he tastes. The precum that sat in the crease of his tip was a little salty. He tastes even better the more you suck. His cock in your mouth is so big. It’s full, girthy, and long. Without needing to try, his length hits the back of your throat multiple times. With teary eyes, you gag, choke, and slobber all of his fat cock. 

Like a fucking dog. 

Like a fucking bitch. 

Like his fucking whore. 

Nam Joon loves the sight. 

He takes a handful of your hair and fucks himself deeper in your pretty mouth. This time, when his cock hits the back of your throat, he holds you still. You breathe in through your nose, sucking as much of him as you can. When you let out an intense gasp for air, he pulls away and feels his stomach twist as strings of your saliva drip. 

Nam Joon repositions you.

He lays down on his back and places you on top of him. There, you let your hands roam his chest as he helps you take your shorts off. His pecks are large and rock-hard. You love the way they feel and as he takes heavy breaths in, you note the way his abs flex.

It’s such a beautiful sight. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” Nam Joon scoffs, as he reaches for his dick. He pumps himself lazily before placing it at your entrance. “Want me so bad? Let’s see how much. Do you think you can last bouncing on my cock? You barely lasted 10 minutes fingering yourself. You were thinking about me too, right? Holding my hand and shit? Have you always been a fucking whore?”

You pout, nodding. “Yeah. I am such a fucking whore for you… I’ve been so patient. Did I wait well?”

Without warning, Nam Joon slaps you in the face. 

“This is about me,” he growls. “You want me. You have me. You get to fuck me. Get that? You waited, and you got the prize. Me. Shut the fuck up and do your fucking job, slut. I’ll praise you when I want. Don’t ask for it. Understand?”

You nod. 

He slaps your face again.

“Answer me, bitch.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I understand.”

“Good,” Nam Joon says, satisfied. “Whenever you’re ready…”

You purse your lips, asking for one more kiss. He kisses you, and as he does so, you take his cock and try to put it in. For some reason, perhaps because of how wet you are, his cock keeps slipping or your hole is just too fucking small for him. When he realizes what’s going on, he sits up a little. 

In a low tone, he offers, “Here, I’ll help you put it in.”

You look at him as he guides it in. You watch how soft his gaze turns the minute you sink into his member. You swear he feels the butterflies too. As you adjust to his size, you begin to move a little. Rolling your hips, you also add a little bounce. For stability, you place your hands on his chest. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “my slut is such a good girl.”

“Mhmm,” you breathe, “s-so good. You fill me up so good, Joon.”

As you ride him, you begin to feel more and more desperate for his cock to fuck you. This entire time, you had been doing all the work and goddamn it’s fucking exhausting. You slam your pussy onto his dick visciously, picking up the pace and trying to catch your orgasm—but you get so fucking tired.

It’s so annoying. 

“I—” you cry, “a-agghhh!”

“I got you.”

Suddenly, Nam Joon wraps his arms around your body and holds you tight. It’s like a hug, but as he does it, he drills his fucking cock into you. Like never before, you feel his length reach spots you missed as you rode him. Nam Joon drills like there’s no tomorrow. It’s so rough and intense, he slaps your ass while he’s at it. You’re constantly moaning, and at this point—

“You like it like this, little slut? Such a fucking whore for wanting it like this… Gonna take my cum? Gonna get so fucked up you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Mhmmm,” you sob. “Yes, I want it like this. J-just like that! Fuck yes, yes, yes!”

“You think about this, huh? Always imagining how it’d be like for me to fuck you? Are you happy now? Are you fucking happy? Greedy little bitch always gets what she wants, huh?”

“So happy,” you gasp. “I love your cock. You’re so good to me, Joon.” 

Something inside him flips. He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way this feels and is even more in love with the way that it’s with you. With that being said…

He fucks you harder.

Rough, sloppy, messy. 

It’s so fucking good that you grip onto his hair and let out a few sobs. You murmur his name into his ear and your pussy clenches every time he kisses you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and concentrate on how blissful this all is. After a few moments—

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god—” 

You cum. 

But it doesn’t stop there. 

Even though you came, he didn’t. 

Nam Joon continues to fuck you through your orgasm as he reaches his. Feeling the sensation, he curls his toes and digs his cock deep into you as he releases. Nam Joon stuffs his cum inside you, and pumps in and out a few more times. 

Then, he leaves it inside. 

As his cum spills, he keeps his cock inside you. Too tired to pull out, but also too in his head. He wants this to last longer than it has. He wants it again if possible… But that’s asking for too much. He knows it. 

Without exchanging any words, you lift your face and lean in. You and Nam Joon make out, nice and slow. It’s so opposite from what you two were just doing… But it was nice. You even play with his hair as you two kiss. He likes it. You know he does because he smirks against your lips. 

When you pull away, it’s like a wave of emotions hit Nam Joon. 

What the fuck did he just do?

He isn’t sure what to say or to do… All he knows is that it was good. It was fun. He had wanted this moment for a while too. Is that something he should regret? Getting what he has wanted and waited for? He doesn’t know. 

As you two lay beside one another, you reach for him and curl into his embrace. Quickly, you fall asleep. The entire thing tired you out. Nam Joon contemplates if he should get up and resume to his usual service… Or should he just lay here? Be with you? 

Was that an option?

Either way, he knows one things for sure…

He’d be here in the morning. 

To protect you.

To fuck you.

To be yours.