#and there are so many embarrassing simple writing mistakes

[theangrypomeranian]

tfw you've been thinking about deleting your most popular fic from a past fandom

[robinsfilm]

TANGLED IN RED

pairing: jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

synopsis: you wrap yourself up in jason's red jacket, and he finds it endearing.

warnings: fluff, rushed writing, proofread like only once (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

word count: 0.8k.

notes: i wrote this post-surgery recovery so i get a pass on any mistakes thank you :⁠-⁠P cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft, but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the merigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sifted through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You'd have me ditch the pants too, wouldn't you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Nevermind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his around you. You melt into his hold, but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you'll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn't seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can't seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don't plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

*****

Maybe it's the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn't even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you, and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn't feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small, but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite of you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can't help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—his red you tangle yourself in.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Song: How to Build your Confidence

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If you're interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

1 - 3

Images are not mine

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟙

the boy is mine

I'm feeling hesitancy. "Take some time and you'll get there."

Be more spontaneous and outgoing. Say yes more often (when comfortable ofc) and a whole new you could very well emerge.

I'm seeing painting or writing, some sort of creative hobby that involves a tool of some kind or maybe ink.

You have talents and you should be using them in competitions, or at the very least putting your work out there for others to see.

Be an artist, and more importantly, own it.

Your work should be filling you with excitement, not dragging you down. Do something that makes you happy, it's been too long. Or maybe travel a little. Do something that actually excites you and fills you with ideas and passion, then you'll be that much closer to a feeling of fulfillment.

Channeled Song: Kissland - The Weeknd (Yo, as I was looking for the song, I saw the show 'You' pop up. Maybe you should go watch it on Netflix or something, especially considering the pic you chose lol)

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟚

MILLION DOLLAR BABY

Okay, I'm already getting that you're pretty smooth with it.

"Just keep being you, baby"

I feel a cocky sort of energy, a smirk, something flirtatious. Maybe you're good at flirting or you should allow yourself to be more flirty.

Okay, after pulling the cards I'm seeing two different ways to interpret this pile.

One. You are holding yourself back from your own happiness. You are already everything you want to be, but you hold yourself back and put on a face for everyone. You act so mature and independent that you don't allow yourself to have fun, and in order to feel more happy, you need to ease your control over yourself and just allow yourself to feel in the moment and have fun. Worry later. Allow yourself to be excited again!

Or two, you're the complete opposite and you need to get more control over yourself. Maybe you have a bit of an ego, or trust too much, or have ridiculously high expectations. Sometimes you go too hard and end up embarrassed or people start talking about you and you're inability to stop. If this resonates, then you need to have a little more independence and maturity. This will grant you the freedoms and money that you need in order to thrive and glow in the future. Your hard work will bring you abundance right now, then in the future you'll look back and realize all the things you thought you had were actually really fake and how much better things are for you now. You are already great, but you could be more. Create some stability and realness in your life, honey.

Channeled Song: Burning Down the House - Talking Heads

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝟛

BOA

"Take it slow" "It's okay to make mistakes"

Are you a perfectionist? A little hard on yourself when you mess up? Allow yourself to make mistakes.

Girly, you are already great. Don't let your spirits die. Don't let your talents die.

I'm feeling that you've been really down lately; loss of faith and hope, loss of optimism.

I know it's hard to just get more optimistic, especially when you've been let down so many times, but I'm seeing that you just need to hang on a little longer, push a little harder, because something great is about to happen just around the corner.

Don't fool yourself. You hold all the power that you need. I know you're tired, but you still gotta be the one that gets up and makes a difference in your life. Just trust yourself, and trust your talents. You will get there.

You've been through more than enough challenges lately, but I'm seeing that the answer to your problems is actually very simple: Just step away for a moment. The reason you can't overcome is because you're not allowing yourself to use you talents or creativity to their fullest potential. You put too much stress and pressure of yourself and it's not allowing you to be at your best. Take some time, de-stress, don't think about the issue at all, then come back and you'll be more than ready. Pressure only boils you down. Take time to flourish and you'll be everything you need to be.

You are already everything. Just let yourself breath and you'll realize nothing ever needed to change about you, because you already have it.

Channeled Song: Disturbia - Rihanna

[cerridwen007]

Hard pill to swallow.

*pics above are from pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.4k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Joel helps you fix your problem with swallowing pills.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Soft!Joel vibes, lowkey daddy Joel vibes too, Joel being a teasing, filthy mouthed menace because I said so, mentions of pills (vitamins and hayfever), mentions of gagging/gag reflex, Joel lifts reader, but Joel is huge and hella strong so he can lift anyone, cumplay, oral (m receiving), finger sucking, praise/ nicknames, swearing, no y/n.

A/N: Disclosure, this is fully self indulgent and based on my struggle with swallowing pills and me wanting Joel Miller's dick in my mouth all waking hours.  Was meant to post this before Valentines, but time got the best of me. But I suppose you can consider this my Valentines present from me to you, even though it's not related to valentines at all. I swear this is the second time that writing about my struggles in a fic with Joel, it’s pretty much solved them. He is truly that man. Quickly edited, as always, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Anyways, enough babbling, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with posts are very much appreciated, and I love yall so much. Have a good day bebes. 🫶❤️

*********

You were embarrassed, to say the least, and annoyed and frustrated. For all of your life, you could never do that one thing that was a simple skill for most people, a simple and usually essential at that. You couldn't swallow pills for the life of you. Many frustrated mornings, well into your early adult years, were spent at the breakfast table with your parents, growing more and more impatient and irritated at your ‘talent’ for not being able to swallow pills no matter how hard you tried. And It's not like you didn't want to swallow pills. No, not at all. 

In fact you wish you could, it would have made your life a hell of lot easier. You would take swallowing pills over having to grind up the assorted pills for hayfever and vitamins into your drink and being forced to intigest the horrible tasting yet beneficial substances, the ones that made your eyes water and your stomach gurgle with just how bad they tasted. 

And trust me you had tried everything, sticking the pill right down your throat, damn near breaking your neck with the force you tilted your head back (to catch your gag reflex “off guard”) nearly watering boarding yourself a couple times, thinking the more water you swallow the easier right? You felt like the oblong white tablets were just ridiculing you at this point. 

You had achieved so much in your life yet you were brought down by your inability to swallow a tiny little thing for your benefit. You had not managed to find a shortage of adults and family members alike telling you, “it's all in your head” and suggesting unwarranted advice. Advice you ended up trying over and over again, knowing it wouldn't work. “It's just like swallowing food” they would say. But you knew damn right it wasn't. I mean you couldn't even swallow gum, so how were you supposed to swallow this?!

Because of all these judgemental looks and passive aggressive comments when it came up in conversation that you couldn't swallow pills, you tended to avoid the topic of conversation completely. It wasn't till a handsome man named Joel Miller came into your life, did you finally manage feel comfortable and unjudged about your inability. 

It had been a while that the two of you had been dating, nearly a year and you had never felt happier. Recently you had moved into his place and had just unfinished packing. It was a peaceful morning in Joel’s and now your own house, the morning sun shining down, warming up the frosted green grass as the birds chirps and, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled your nostrils. The two of you sat opposite each other, drinking in the peaceful morning. This movie-like paradise was soon brought down in mood as you remembered it was time to take your daily vitamins and tablets. 

You sighed, a frown growing on your face as you anticipated yet another painful morning attempting to swallow some tablets. Joel's face mimics yours when he looks over at you from across the breakfast table. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, concerned.

You sigh before explaining yourself.

“I just..I just suck at swallowing pills and I almost always end up having to crush them into a drink or whatever I'm eating and then it's disgusting. I know I'm an adult, I should be able to swallow them by now but I just can’t.” 

You try to blink away the tears from frustration as you talk, not wanting Joel to see you get so upset over something so little and stupid.

He listens with a soft frown on his face and you half expect him to scoff at you and belittle you for not being able to do something so easy. Then he locks eyes with you and sees your watery eyes and instantly his face softens.

“Aww baby, come here.” He holds out his arms and you quickly get up walking round the table to straddle his lap, burying your face into his shoulder, seeking his warming embrace to comfort you. You look up at him, when you feel the tears aren't going to spill out.

“You're not making fun of me or think that I'm being a baby?” 

He cups your face, forcing you to keep his warm gaze. “Now what would make you think that I thought that darling?” He questions.

You feel your throat constricting as you try to explain yourself, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

“I don't know…I just thought maybe before… you were frowning cause you don’t believe me or something.” You softly respond, embarrassed over the state you're in all over some silly little pills.

“Sweetheart of course I believe ya. I was frowning cause I hate to see my girl upset and struggling, and I was trying to think of some way to help ya.”

You sigh with relief, before resting your head back on Joel's shoulder, you sit there holding each other for a while before you're interrupted by the soft rocking back and forth of Joel's chest as he tries to quietly chuckle underneath you. 

“What’s so funny.” You ask, feeling a little irritated.

“Oh, nothing.” He responds, still with a wide grin.

“No, tell me.” You say, pouting.

He clears his throat and before he speaks in a dark tone, close to your ear sending shivers all throughout your body.

“Just thought of how good of a girl you are when you suck my dick, and how you don’t seem to have a problem swallowing my cum, do ya honey?”

Your eyes widen with the sudden lewd topic of conversation, your cheeks heat up and you lightly slap his chest.

“Joel!” you warn him, but you can't help but let the corners of your mouth lift up a little.

“That's different though.” You say quietly after a beat.

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” His eyes pierced through you, waiting for your answer.

You feel your cunt fluttering at his question, your panties dampening.

“Cause…cause I actually want to swallow your cum.” You softly admit.

He breathes in shakily as a growl-like sound softly rips through his chest. His head falls back and he slowly grinds up into your needy clothed cunt. 

“My dirty little cum slut, aren't you baby?” He groans as he cups your face with his hand.

You nod and he puts his thumb on your bottom lip, slowly dragging it downwards. Your tongue shoots out to lick it before your head dips it to take it into your mouth. You start sucking on it, needily. Needing to have some part of Joel in you.

“Needy too, apparently. Just how I like ya.” He murmurs to mostly himself as he pushes his fingers in deeper and pushes down on your tongue.

Your cunt is throbbing now, but the only thing you can think of right now is taking Joel’s fat cock into your mouth. You try and tell Joel as his thick fingers are stuffed in your mouth, so it ends up coming out as a garbled mess.

“What was that baby?” Joel teases you.

“W-wanna sl-suck your c-cock d-Joel.” 

“Can’t get enough of this fat dick down your throat can you sweetheart?” Joel growls as he removes his fingers.

You shake your head, your hands trailing over Joel's strong chest and biceps. You suck on the spot on his neck that drives him crazy, his hips start lightly thrusting up into you as a result. You grin devilishly, seeing and feeling Joel become a vulnerable mess, under your control is one of your favourite sights in the world. 

You slowly make your way down Joel's body, feeling and touching on every part of him that you can, except where you and him both want too most. When your knees finally hit the floor, you look up at him with an innocent smile. Although Joel knows your the exact opposite, he can’t help his breath stuttering and his heart racing at the stunning sight below him.

You bite your lip as you look to Joel belt, his prominent bulge just below it, silently asking for permission. He nods, spreading his legs wider. You place your hands on his knees and slowly trace your hand over his legs up to his hips, your eyes switching between looking up at Joel and his bulge that has your mouth watering. 

You unbuckle his belt, slowly, loving to tease him. But taking your time and going slow seems to make you more impatient than Joel himself, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and shucking them down his thick thighs, while your mouth waters. You swallow harshly, as you uncover Joel's thick and rock-hard package perfectly framed by his black boxers. 

Reaching below his elastic waistband to pull out his cock, you find yourself transfixed once again by his beautiful cock, tip flush dark red, shaft slightly curling upwards as it heavily bobs, just begging to be sucked. Your tongue darts out to slicken your lips. Your hand carefully grasps his length, Joel softly gasps, before your thumb traces over his slit and the white drop of precum, oozing out of it. 

You grin as you lower your head, placing a few teasing kisses around his head before you raise his cock up high enough that you can lick from between his balls all the way up to his slit. He shudders above you, his hand gently caressing your hair, grounding himself and connecting himself more to you, as if his dick in your mouth isn't enough. 

You let your saliva gather to the front of your mouth before slightly parting your lips to let the warm glob drip onto his flesh. You see his thighs flex from the corner of your eye as your palm encases him, spreading your moisture all over the veiny muscle. Starting out with slow hard strokes, and building it up faster, your hand struggles to meet around his girth. 

Your mouth finally latches onto his tip, tongue swirling around the bulbous head, making Joel groan deeply. You help unleash even more depraved sounds from deep in Joel's chest when your other hand reaches out to massage his hefty balls. All this encompassing stimulation has Joel racing towards the edge, his mouth spewing out dirty words and praises as he comes oh so close to his high.

“Ugh. Fuck yeah. Atta girl.”

“Just like that baby. F-fuck me that feels g-good.” 

“Fuck… I love the feel of your hot, wet mouth on my cock.”

“Going to make my heart go out on me, with how fucking heavenly your making me feel, baby.”

He clenches the muscles in his body as he tries to starve off his release long as possible, needing to tell you something first.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I-I’m going to need you to hold all my cum in your mouth baby when I finish-h. C-can you do that for me s-sweet girl?” He chokes out.

You nod slightly and moan around him, before returning to bobbing wildly on his pulsing cock. Loving the salty, musky taste of him, your pussy clenches thinking about the even more salty and delicious load soon to be filling your mouth.

You take him as deep he will go, your eyes tearing up as your throat constricts around him. You feel his balls tighten under your hand and you let his cock out ever so slightly so only his tip is encased by your stretched lips.

And before you know it Joel’s coming, a long string of curse words and moans pouring out his mouth as he does so. Your hand continues to stroke him, milking him for all he's worth. Till he is hissing through his teeth, his now spent cock sensitive and raw. 

The urge to swallow his spend is strong, but your need to listen to and please Joel stands stronger. You keep it all in your mouth, cheeks bulging out a little with how full they are.

Joel, still breathing heavily, bends over you so he can inspect your warming checks and watery eyes, you look completely wrecked and he loves it. He hums in delight seeing you patiently sitting beneath him waiting for his next instruction.

He reaches over the table to where you were sitting before leaning down closer to you again. His thumb and forefinger reaches out and takes a hold of your chin, tilting it a bit higher.

“Did so good for me sweet girl, but I need you to do one more thing for me, okay?” He whispers, his warm and inviting eyes making you melt further into the floor.

You nod in response, watching his other hand come down in front of your face, opening up to reveal your pills. He softly demands you to open your mouth, to which you oblige, before carefully placing the few pills into your cum filled mouth.

He tilts up chin so your mouth closes and seals your lips with his thumb, before moving his hand to the side of your jaw, rubbing soft circles over your cheekbone.

“Okay, I'm going to need you to be a good girl and swallow that for me.”

You give the best soft smile you can muster with a mouth full of cum before you begin to swallow Joel’s cum in small amounts, your eyes fluttering close in concentration.

 “That's it…. Good girl. Swallow it all, baby. Don’t wanna waste a drop do ya now?” He encourages you, eyes transfixed to your throat swallowing all of his cum and the pills.

The pills going down so easily you didn't feel them shocks you, as you open your eyes to a smiling, starry-eyed Joel looking down at you softly. A wide smile mimicking his, spreads over your face, before you open your mouth to reveal it, now empty, to Joel.

He reaches down to pick you up from your armpits, placing you on his lap again. You giggle as he places lots of kisses all over your face and nuzzles his nose into yours.

“I’m so proud of you my sweet, darling girl. Did so good.”

“Thank you, Joel.” You coo back, sighing softly with relief and happiness over your achievement.

“Guess we know now how to get you to swallow your pills every morning, don't we baby?” Joel teases you, holding you close to his chest as he kisses your temple.

“Indeed we do.” You reply, giggling, before resting your head on Joel's warm and sturdy chest, basking in the love and warmth of your lover.

***********

[s4wdvator]

a friend of a friend — sam winchester

SUMMARY: Sam went to a Halloween party because of his best friend, and when he found himself bored and wanting to leave, his friend finally decided to introduce him a friend.

PAIRING: Stanford!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

WORDS COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: smut, y/n used two times *i guess*, gentle sam, oral sex (f! receiving), p in v, kisses, sam playing breasts, sam embarrassed, sassy reader lmaojejejej

a/n: I literally think I nailed it this time HHEHEJE, I literally loved writing this. I love Stanford! Sam. I think I should write something with him lol. Have a good read!!

sam winchester | masterlist | more abt me!

English is not my first language, I apologize if there is any mistake <3 (maybe I interchange 'he' and 'she' too much. I'm so sorry)

This fic will have sexual content. MDNI

Sam was not a party guy, especially those of Halloween - which reminded him of his reality- He didn't have many friends in his childhood or adolescence, he never managed to stay long enough in a school to have real friends or even a girl. But then when he managed to cut ties with his father and won a scholarship at Stanford University, he felt free for the first time.

In just a few days at the University, a blonde girl named Jessica soon befriended Sam, and with this new friendship with Jess, he became invited to events, outings and parties of Jessica's most popular friends.

Now, Sam is stuck at a Halloween party in some dorm. He has a plastic cup with any drink he found and drank, he was really already under the influence of alcohol but not necessarily drunk. He looked around the old couch he was sitting on, where just staring at the place he was in, made him sigh, because all he wanted was to be in his dorm, quiet and just studying, nothing very difficult to have, if Jessica hadn't begged.

It had been almost half an hour since he was there, doing nothing, just trying to finish the drink from his glass. When he really couldn't finish, he just left it next to a fainted guy on the couch. He got up, looking for Jessica, just to say goodbye to his friend, he was determined to leave there. As he walked, he murmured several "I'm sorry" to the lowest people he ended up bumping into. When he finally found Jess, she was in the kitchen talking to some girl who was with her back to him, where he just saw the back costume, which was from Alice in Wonderland.

"Sam!" Jess said excitedly as she faced her friend.

"Hey..." Sam said in a simple and slightly embarrassed way for being close to a presence he doesn't know.

"I'm glad you're here," Jessica said, throwing the typical mischievous look and smiling, "Well, this one is y/n!" The blonde said smiling and excited, she was definitely drunk.

Jess had definitely already talked about this friend of hers, y/n, like, Jessica had been trying to get this girl for him for almost a month.

"Well, I'll let you talk. I'm going to go after a refill," Jess said getting up and smiling at the two friends and soon leaving the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm Sam. Jess she had already said...a lot about you" He said putting his hands on the back of his neck and scratching, in a shame.

You can't help but smile, he was definitely cute and clearly under this outfit—that you couldn't identify what his fantasy was—he had a muscular chest and trunk, maybe nothing really exaggerated. It was crazy how, you hadn't even spoken to him properly and you already imagined him shirtless.

"Well... Hi Sam" You said excitedly, while smiling. You didn't know if it was already alcohol taking over your mind or you were just really happy.

You and Sam were talking for long minutes, you found out that his major here at Stanford was right, he is 21 years old, he has one more brother, Dean, 25 years old, his mother died in a kind of fire or something, and he and his father fought. His life was chaos, definitely. But apparently he loved you and loved the fact that you were studying psychology here at Stanford, since he didn't say a word to talk about. Everything he said, he found a way to return to the subject due to the fact that you are a future psychologist. He also praised you too much, this guy is a real gentleman.

With a few more minutes of conversation, the party started to get music and more colorful led's which caused you to no longer be able to talk so clearly when listening to each other.

"Do you want to go to my dorm?" You finally had the courage to ask him, of course, with a slight hesitation and fear of what the answer would be and if it would be some kind of rejection.

"Of course" He smiled more sympathetically at you.

When you had already gone to your dorm, you started talking to him normally, and clearly he listened to you attentively but couldn't stop paying attention to your lips, how they moved, how you sometimes licked him or bit him like a kind of craze of yours, or how your sweet voice came out of your throat.

"Do you want to sit down?" You asked him, pointing to his bed, while you took off your black high-heeled boot and sat on your bed.

"Yeah...I mean, of course," he said more embarrassedly, causing slight laughter coming from you and soon he sat next to her, but he didn't expect to be so close to the points of her thighs that were involved in her black trawler, touching his long legs.

"So, what kind of music do you like? I mean, it's 2004, you have to have something good about music" You joked while looking into his eyes, which you thought were brown but in fact, surprisingly, they were green.

"Well... I hear these classic things more. Metallic, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC..." He began to say, and that made you make a surprise face and face him.

"Really? No Usher? Justin Timberlake? I don't know" She laughed, clearly surprised that he just listened to classic rock.

"Whet? No, I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great. But I grew up listening to this kind of music and...well, doing things with my father and I didn't have much time to get to know pop culture, jazz and etc.," he said smiling, while staring at you in an enchanted way.

"Get it. But it's okay, I'll show you" You smiled staring at him, and he let out a loose laugh.

"You're funny" He smiled and stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing her blurred Alice's makeup. The way your hair was more or less messy. The way his lips called him and seemed more kissable than before. And before he could really think about what to say to her, he kissed her, not knowing if he would receive a slap in the face, a push or a curse coming from him. Surprisingly, you responded to the kiss more in the mood than him, while his hands went to his face, theirs were already holding his waist firmly, which seemed nothing compared to his big hands.

He carefully guided you to his lap, while the kiss was getting longer and longer, you could feel his hands touching every inch of you, now, with the kiss slightly intensifying, his hands were now caressing his thighs, sometimes some of his fingers entering inside the holes of her black line trawler, which honestly, for him is quite sexy.

His hands traveled to the buttons of the dress, which were located on his back, while he worked on unbuttoning his blue and white Alice dress. His hands were taking off his dark blue denim jacket.

She let out a slight moan when his hands slid to her thighs and then entered inside her dress, and when she touched her waist to be able to take off her dress. And once your dress came out of your body, and you were only in your bra and panties. He let out a sigh, admiring, before holding you firmly by the hips and kissing your neck next to the collarbone and he stared down, seeing the contour of your breasts and let out a sigh and smiled, you are beautiful from his point of view.

He carefully took you and left it underneath, he kept kissing your body and carefully, their hands went to the back of your bra and unbuttoned the buttons of the bra. When the bra got loose on his shoulders, he took it off and stared at his breasts—which seemed too perfect from his point of view—and then, he began to kiss his left breast while his big hands circled the shape of his right breast, he sucked his nipple and you let out a slight moan and put your hands on his hair, when he finished the service and attention to his breasts, he began to kiss his stomach until he reached his panties, he stared at you, as if he had asked for a kind of permission and you just nodded your head, already desperate for the The idea of his touch in your intimate area.

He carefully left a kiss against his panties and hit his clitoris right—which was already swollen with so much desire, along with how soaked you were—he put his hands on the straps of his panties and pulled down and smiled when he saw your naked pussy, just for him.

He sighed against his intimacy, causing a slight pleasure in his body.

Sam gently opened your legs better and then began to kiss his thighs, slow and wet kisses, until he reached his pussy. He started with kisses on the clitoris before moving forward and using his tongue two more times and then starting to work more with his tongue at his entrance, but his pointed and beautiful nose kept pressing his clitoris with each advance with his tongue at his entrance. Causing moans in the dorm.

While he did it slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. His hands were on his hair, pulling, picking up, caressing, while his hips arched against his mouth.

When he started to accelerate more with his tongue, you moaned feeling that maybe you couldn't take that much.

"Sam..." You tried to warn that it wouldn't last that long.

He smiled, understanding the message of despair in his speech and accelerated more, when you saw it, you had come into his mouth, and he was eating his pussy for a few more 30 minutes and finally, took off his shirt and concentrated on his lips, while his hands caressed his chest—which was exactly as you imagined, muscular but hot and not at all exaggerated—his hands began to unbutton his pants and then take off and soon get into boxers.

You pulled him closer, and felt how big he really was, you couldn't tell if it scared you or excited you, maybe both.

So, he got rid of his boxers, and you were seeing his cock for the first time, it was thick, big and it was very hard, which made you unintentionally but genuinely smile.

You tried to touch, giving the intention that you also wanted to do oral, but he denied it, saying:

"I'm a gentleman. What kind of guy would I be having a blowjob on the first night with you? Sorry princess, next time" He smiled at you, making you laugh that he was such a gentleman.

"Fine" You smiled.

Then, the head of his cock pressed against his clitoris and rubbed lightly.

"Sam..." You let out a weak moan for the provocation coming from him.

He laughed, murmuring a 'sorry' before his cock rubbed his pussy and then the head of his cock began to enter his entrance.

'Oh my God' you thought.

So, he tried to advance another part of his big father and then his hands squeezing his broad shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"M'Okay...it's just bigger than I expected" She laughed and so did he and sighed relieved.

When he began to move slowly and carefully, the entire length of his penis entered you and you could no longer hold the moans. He was being so careful, and loving with you that he surprised you.

While he stocked up strong but gently, despite reaching the cervix of her uterus, it is being one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. His hands held his hips, to get more momentum. His others were now on his back, scratching, but nothing to the point of hurting him on purpose.

You smiled when you were getting closer and closer to reaching your climax. So, as if it were a way to try to get there faster, his hands that were on his back went to his ass, trying to force him to go deeper and he laughed.

"Calm down sassy girl" He whispered and smiled at her.

You let out a laugh, before you felt the climax approaching and he smiled when her walls began to squeeze his cock, understanding that she was very close.

"You can let go, babe" She whispered in her ear and kissed her jaw. The nickname caused chills all over your body and without thinking, you came surprisingly next to him. You let out a moan and sighed.

"God..." You whispered and he laid his face on your neck, still with his cock inside you "You better not have made me pregnant" she whispered jokingly, and he laughed, realizing that they had had had unprotected sex, which would be worrying, if you did not take care of yourself and were taking contraceptives.

"It's okay, I hope" he smiled and kissed you again, before taking his penis out of you and lying next to you and hugging you and you hugging him back as you felt him cover him and you with the blanket of your bed. And so, you ended up sleeping, feeling Sam caress your hair.

[preeningpisces]

Report - Kenjaku x F!Reader

Kenjaku shows up unannounced, and makes himself all too comfortable in your apartment. Pwp, 4k, Crossposted on AO3

A/N: At first I referred to him as Geto in this, as I found it unlikely YN would know his real name, but then figured this has no plot and there isn't many Kenjaku x reader fics without Geto & swapped it to Kenjaku ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shoutout to this lovely anon for giving me a reason/the drive to write something for my favorite hoe 💚

Content: p-in-v, m!oral, sex toys, size kink, unprepped sex, edging, choking, biting, spit/cum stuff, degradation--personally I think this is more tame than it sounds

18+ content below, mdni, implied chubby!reader, enjoooy!

The figure seated at your dinner table makes your soul leap from your body.

Tonight you planned a date with a hot shower, your favorite snacks, and three seasons’ worth of TV to binge. You’d only completed step one, so recently that your skin hasn’t finished absorbing the lotion, leaving your calves and thighs tacky.

His back is to you, but you know he’s aware of your presence. For once, he isn’t wearing his signature robes, and instead sports simple black clothing. Seeing him dressed down is comforting, makes him seem less untouchable, and more like a regular person.

You lament the change in your evening plans, knowing your guest will occupy a decent portion of your time. 

“You take awfully long showers,” he says without turning. “I’ve been here for over an hour.” 

Springing up at random isn’t out of the ordinary for Kenjaku, though it’s more common for him to send messages from unknown numbers or ‘coincidentally’ run into you. He’s never showed up at your apartment before, let alone at such an odd hour of the night. Briefly you wonder how he knows where you live, but then dismiss this as a foolish thought—of course he knows.

“I’m just thorough,” you say as you round the table and sit across from him where he reads one of your books. A silly romance that was popular online; hardly revolutionary or life-altering, but it was a sweet, endearing story and you enjoyed it quite a bit. With how far he’s in, you wonder if he picked a random spot or simply reads that quickly.

“That you are.” He glances up, and a shift in his eye tells you he wasn’t expecting the cotton bathrobe with matching shorts. It’s a favorite that you got off a discount rack, lying somewhere between the lines of sensual and comfortable. Flattering, but hardly scandalous; you don’t feel indecent in his presence. 

“I’m surprised you enjoy this drivel,” he says, judgment evident. “You seemed more intelligent than that.” 

“They’re just for fun. Sometimes it’s nice to read something simple,” you reach for the book, beginning to feel defensive. 

He leans back, now flipping through its contents. It reminds you of a schoolyard bully holding your belongings above you and taunting you for being too short. 

“Are you here to antagonize me, or are you here for something actually important?” As soon as you say this, you know you made a mistake: the ire in your voice will only encourage his pestering.

“I came for your report, but now I’m more interested in your terrible taste.” He gestures to your bookshelf—small, and housing a modest collection of varying genres with the occasional knick knack. “I’ve gone through several already, but saved what I suspect to be the worst for last.”

“Then you can follow me on Goodreads, if you’re so curious. Now give that back,” you hold out your hand, growing agitated. The light catches the ridge of his scar, and taunts you to tug on one of those stitches, which look much less secure than they should. 

“Embarrassed?” He smiles, and makes no move to relinquish the book. 

“If I say yes, will you give it back?” 

A snide puff.

“No.” 

Knowing how fickle he is, you relent; he’ll grow bored with the book soon enough and move on. But minutes of his skimming pass, wholly ignoring your crossed arms and impatient tapping.

“Ah, I see. Is this why you’re so fond of these?” He turns the book for you to read: it’s one of the few sex scenes, and his finger points to a questionable line of dialogue. 

You can’t resist the bait, and indignation rises in your chest. You spring forward in your seat, aiming for the book. Unfazed by your aggression, he avoids you with ease and an infuriating smirk. It only provokes you further, now motivating you to one-up him.

There is a sudden pause in his movements that allows you to snatch the book. As you look at him triumphantly, you notice his eyes aren’t directed at your face; instead, they’re fixed on your chest. Following his gaze, your heart sinks when you discover your robe hanging open, revealing your right breast. 

When you look at him again, his eyes are on yours. Heavy and lidded, they freeze you in place with their weight. The playful energy from before halts, as if the room itself is holding its breath. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his hand in the opening, and cups your breast.

Shocked, you drop the book with a muted thud, more from his boldness than the sensation. A gasp escapes you when he pinches your nipple, rolling it slowly, and your hands fly to his shoulders, not wanting to topple over from the awkward position.

His other hand joins and teases your unexposed breast through the cloth; you fall against him, and a soft noise warms his ear before tracing the stretched lobe with your lower lip. Whether it’s ticklish or it’s your interest in his ear that entertains him, his shoulders thrum with amusement. The plastic clacks between your teeth as you toy with the plug, seeing how far you can rotate it before he becomes irritated.

It doesn’t take long, because a hand winds itself in your hair and pulls you forward, but the table creaks in protest under your weight. 

“Not here,” you say, husk already tinting your voice. “It’s a shitty table.” 

He releases you and follows you down the hallway to your bedroom. You don’t even have time to flick on the light before he pulls you backward, connecting your ass to his groin with his large hands fondling your breasts.

The eager touch surprises you—he hadn’t seemed at all bothered when you stopped him before. You can’t help but shiver when he sucks on your neck, fixing it with hickeys and bites. A renewed focus on your nipples makes you whimper and squeeze at his forearms. 

“Sensitive here, or are you just desperate?” He punctuates with a pull of your left nipple. 

“A bit of both,” you say, and press your ass against him. It’s been some time since you’ve felt this kind of touch, let alone by someone as attractive as him. 

“Cute,” he hums, and grinds his forming erection against you. 

Cool palms slide beneath the robe again, making your nipples so peaked they sting. Deft fingers are quick to melt the cold with slow rolls that morph into pinching and dragging from areola to tip. The attention makes you squirm in his hold and rest your head against his shoulder, weaving your fingers through his glorious hair—which is every bit as silky as it appears. Needing an outlet for your rising desire, you detach him from your neck and angle his head so you can force your lips together. 

The kiss is more passionate than you expected, and it only makes you melt further in his hands. You scratch his scalp and earn a surprised moan. His right hand trails upward, wrapping around a considerable portion of your neck. Air isn’t cut or restricted, but he squeezes enough for your pulse to quicken and make your head fuzzy.

A twist of your nipple makes you arch your back, and he sucks your lower lip until it bruises. Teeth scrape it briefly, before he pushes his tongue into your open mouth and greets yours unabashedly. 

Kenjaku has an air of grace to him, of superiority; you’d think him above such things as these. But he doesn’t flinch or show any disgust when drool pools from the messy kiss—he even licks the bit that trickles down your chin. He breaks the kiss, parting slowly to appreciate the strand that connects your mouths. 

A tug of the simple knot at your waist peels your robe open, and you help him by shrugging your shoulders free. The hold on your neck tightens, and he feels down your stomach, dipping below the waistband of your shorts. Your skin prickles with embarrassment when he squeezes the full softness above your pussy. A pleased noise comes from the back of his throat when he realizes you have no underwear and finds slippery arousal. 

“Look at me.”

You feel how heavy your eyes are, how blatant lust must be on your face. His middle finger finds your clit and traces a single rough, short line, making you flinch. Almost imperceptible circles soothe the rough sensation, leading you to loosen your grip on his hair and hold his wrist. The featherlike strokes feel like static, and every tingle of your flesh touching makes you wetter. 

When your eyes shut, he squeezes your neck again, demanding you keep your focus on him. Even in moments like this, his eyes are full of condescension and superiority; the lowliness you feel in his presence only stirs your need. 

Awkwardly, you feel around behind you for his cock and rub your palm over it as best you can. Despite the clumsy touch, his breath hitches, and his clever fingers pause. Thrill dances in your chest and you stroke him more firmly.

His hand flexes around your neck, and you can’t tell if it’s a warning or a green light. Whichever he intends doesn’t matter to you, because you squeeze his bulge. The firm tap of his finger on your clit reads as chastisement, but you ignore it, already deciding your next move. 

“I want to suck your dick,” you say. You aren’t too prideful to kowtow to his desire for control. “Can I?” 

Dark eyes shelter his thoughts as he considers your offer, and for a moment you think he’s going to turn you down, but he dips his finger in your hole and briefly skims the edge before swiping back up to your clit. A small noise comes out, and your face must be comical because he looks more amused than before. 

“How polite.” The lack of heat and touch as he steps away are disappointing, but the sounds of his belt and zipper more than make up for their loss. “I suppose I’ll let you.”

“Let me,” you snort as you watch him undress. “As if you didn’t start this.”

A broad hand presses down on your shoulder, urging you to kneel—which you do eagerly, not minding the cheap carpet scratching your knees.

“I did, and now you’re exactly where I want you,” he removes his sweater, bearing the impressive muscles of his abdomen. You wonder if this was his true intention coming here tonight and that he played you like a fiddle.

These thoughts disappear when he pulls his trousers and underwear down; you can’t help when your face twists in shock: his cock is huge.

“No wonder you’re so full of yourself.” 

He smirks, and you dread what this affair will do to his already inflated ego.

You scoot forward, assessing the beast, and idly rotate your jaw to prepare for the task at hand. Despite most of his head being exposed and dripping with pre-cum, you push back the remaining foreskin to fully reveal the dark head. You lean forward for a kiss, but land it on his groin instead. 

The click of his tongue and the twitch beneath you is reward enough for the entire night; you’re confident he would never beg for anything from you, but this disappointment feels close enough to claim the satisfaction all the same. 

Still positioned at his tip, your thumbs softly stroke the sides, more soothing than pleasurable as you continue to mouth everywhere but his cock. Fed up, he grips your hair and pulls you back. You get the message, and eagerly suck his head in your mouth, where you set your lips and tongue to work; it’s difficult with his girth, but you manage. He grunts and loosens his hold, allowing you to do as you please. 

To show your gratitude, you plunge him deeper, tongue now rubbing along the seam of his cock as you flex and contract your lips. The muscles in his thighs jolt, and you feel energy rolling off him—the urge to do something, to react.

Steeling your resolve, you slide him further in and pull back, never stopping the pulse of your lips or tongue. It’s then that you suck around him, creating the wet sounds of suction that fill your small bedroom.

The light from the hallway glows behind him, making him radiant; like he’s a god, and this is your offering.

You cup his balls gently and rub a thumb over them to test the waters. Your curiosity is rewarded when the single hand in your hair becomes two, and he moves your head for you.

They cover your ears, cutting out all sound. Whether this is intentional, you can’t say. All you can hear is the wet sounds of your mouth molding around his cock. It’s as if this is your entire world, that this is the only thing you’re good for, and the thought makes you drip. 

Lewdly, you hum and moan your prayer around him. Noises of his own join yours, but you are not worthy of hearing them. Overeager, he pulls you down further on his cock, poking dangerously close to your gag reflex. Your second unoccupied hand wraps around the portion not in your mouth preemptively, and stroke him in time with your mouth. Seeing right through your attempt, he holds your head still and begins fucking your mouth.

It takes only a few thrusts for him to push deeper than before, making you gag softly, which causes him to throw his head back and continue the deep thrusts. It’s uncomfortable, but not so much that you feel the need to stop him. Watching him loosen up is so hypnotic you don’t register how worryingly deep he is in your throat. Until he surges himself all the way forward, forcing your nose to meet his groin. 

When you choke, he groans deeply, and rolls against your face as your throat convulses around him sporadically. You’re about to beat at his thigh, but he pulls you off his cock entirely.

Quickly, you recover and recapture him despite the pull on your hair, doubling down with a soft mouth, tonguing all the sensitive spots you found. And to your surprise, hot cum spurts down your throat with a low groan. You drink it all until he pulls your head back and strokes his cock, shooting the remaining spurts on your face.

You didn’t think he’d be so quick to cum, and it seems, neither did he.

A painful yank of your hair forces you to stand before you can comment, and full of surprises, he licks a line of cum from your chin and smears it over your tongue with his own. The dirtiness of it makes a raw noise come from your abused throat.

Not breaking the kiss, he walks you to your bed and pushes you back; you scoot yourself to the headboard and barely shimmy your shorts off before he crawls atop you, flaccid cock in hand. With a surge of reversed cursed energy, he urges it to re-harden. 

“Is this the difference between special grades and the rest of us?” 

He doesn’t acknowledge your taunt, and after two pumps, positions his cock at your hole. Unprepped, his tip presses against the ring of muscle for several moments, unable to breech despite ample lubrication.

“The Viagra tech-”

Your pussy finally yields, and his cock spears itself to the hilt.

“Fuck!” 

Mercifully, he doesn’t rail you, and instead rolls his hips, stroking your most receptive spots. It aches, his cock stretching you to what feels like your capacity, but it’s the sort of ache that makes you crave more. You meet his hips with your own, desperately chasing more of the electric feeling. He grabs the underside of your knees and leans forward, putting his weight on them. The position angles his cock upward and fucks you with more fervor. 

“Jesus, it’s so big,” you say, legs trembling in his hold. 

Needing a distraction, you cup the back of his head and pull him as close as your breasts and stomach allow. You kiss at whatever flesh you can reach, starting at his damp hairline, and following up immediately with the seam on his forehead. The simple kiss earns you a sharp cant of his hips and a hiss, tempting you to fixate on the scar.

Your tongue traces the divot faintly, careful not to press too hard and minding the sutures. The effect is immediate, as he ruts into you, slow, deep, and hard, surprisingly loud moans spilling from his pretty lips. Even his moans are rough, as if they scrape his throat on their way out. Like his vocal chords haven’t made such sounds in some time. 

“Sensitive?” You murmur your tease against the raised flesh. 

“Wounds tend to be, yes.” He kisses you tenderly, and when you sigh, bites your lower lip with a crunch. Teeth pierce, and copper flavors the kiss. You part with a hiss, and his thumb swipes at the puncture. “See? Or do you need further demonstration.”

“You’re such a dick,” you mutter, batting his hand away from your sore lip.

His attention falters, and you follow his eyes to your nightstand. You live alone and have no need for secrecy, so your vibrator charges in plain sight. Owning sex toys is something you’ve never thought twice about, let alone felt any shame towards, but you become flustered when Kenjaku leans over and unplugs it.

Excitement overpowers your embarrassment when he turns it on. To your surprise, he doesn’t place it on your clit, and instead keeps it in a low setting and traces it along your labia. His hips slow, but they maintain a steady pace. Your body tenses with anticipation anytime it nears your clit, but it still doesn’t touch you. The stretch of his cock feels amazing, but your clit practically burns with need, swollen and begging to be touched.

“Now, what do you have for me this week?” he asks, full of mischief.

“What?”

He pushes your chubby mound upward and finally places the toy on your clit—you gasp. 

“Your report. It’s what I came here for, after all.” 

He circles the vibrator around your clit in time with his hips, looking all too amused when you struggle to respond. You ignore his question, and instead squeeze your eyes shut as your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate. You’ve waited so long, you’ve been so pent up, you just need—

“Ah, ah, you’ve got a job to do. Stay focused,” he tuts, and lifts the vibrator. You swear loudly, and your hips chase the toy, but he pins you with a hand on your hip. 

“T-the first year,” you begin, legs trembling with pent up anticipation, “students–” you whimper when the vibrator returns. 

“Go on,” he coos. 

“They-they…” you trail off when a slow and delicious drag of his cock steals your mind. The vibrator moves, and you throw your head back. “Theywentto–fuck!” 

“Speak clearly; this is vital information.” He presses it on fully, directly, gleefully watching you struggle. 

“They wen-went to Ro-oooh,” with a click, he turns it up a notch. “Fuck, you’re–” he nestles it between your lips and rotates it teasingly. Only a few hums more and he removes it again. 

“Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice warbles pathetically, “please let me cum. I need it–”

“And I need your report,” he smiles, as if he isn’t torturing you. 

The hopeless look you give him must spur him on, because he fucks you with the most vigor he’s showed thus far. Ripples roll across your soft stomach and thighs, and your breasts bounce wildly, but you’re too far gone to pay them any mind. 

“They went to R-roppongi!” You manage, and before he can torment you, add, “it was just—third-grade curses.” 

Even now, as he fucks you hard and fast, he doesn’t pull out much, and instead focuses on stroking your all of your sensitive areas relentlessly. It’s so different from what you’re used to, and so, so much better. You don’t know if you’ll be satisfied getting fucked any other way now. 

“And what of Satoru Gojo?” he grunts when you squeeze him particularly hard.

“A meeting–he had a meeting,” you breathe heavily, trying to catch your breath. The pause must displease Kenjaku, because he slaps your wet clit with the buzzing toy, making you jerk beneath him. 

“Wednesday!” you yell. “The Higher uh-” you’re cut off with a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue, agitating your bloody lip. 

“No need to shout, I’m right here,” he says cheekily, and grips your jaw, demanding your attention. “I’m sure you’re eager for your reward.” You nod the best you can.

A large palm spans your lower belly, pressing the plump flesh down to meet his upward thrusts. It feels like you’re even fuller, even more sensitive; your eyes bulge when a deep pressure builds. 

“Can you feel it?” His eyes look wild, more unhinged than before, and it makes you squeeze him in apprehension. “How large this cock is—incredible, isn’t it?” 

If you weren’t on the verge of exploding, the way he marvels at his own dick would make you roll your eyes. 

“Hmm?” He pulls all the way out for the first time, and sharply thrusts back in, meanly stabbing your deepest, most tender area.

“Yes, yes—I feel it!” He repeats the motion, aiming higher. “It feels so fucking good!”

He chuckles and ups the vibrator’s setting, rocking into you faster. All you can do is hold on to him, your mind too scattered and pliant for anything more. With each powerful thrust, he hits the spot near your cervix, causing your pussy to clench around him and draw melodic sounds. You force your eyes to stay open, fully aware that this is a sight you’ll never forget. His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty skin, with most of the strands of his top knot undone. Pink tinges his cheeks, and his brows crease ever so slightly. The sight causes a sudden leap of pleasure, and you feel yourself dancing at the edge.

“Are you ready to come?” He asks, as if sensing the sudden development.

“Oh, god yes!”

A smile is the only warning you're given before he withdraws the vibrator again. The cruelty almost makes you cry. Before you can plead, he pushes the hood of your clit back and the vibrator returns.

“Then come.”

Everything you held onto breaks as you come, abdomen convulsing deeply, and mouth wide open. You soar so high you forget he’s with you for a moment. Your pussy gushes, and clenches him so hard it feels like it’s trying to push his cock out along with your release. The euphoric sensations quickly become a sting as the vibrator doesn’t falter, and you claw at his back and wail.

With a click, he turns off the toy as he tosses it aside, and traps you in his arms with his head nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. Teeth sink into the flesh hard enough to draw blood and a shout. Only four pumps more and he fills you as deep as he can reach, as if his cum seeps directly into your womb.

He lies on you for several moments, his cock softening and twitching occasionally. It’s pleasant, and oddly domestic, feeling skin against your own and listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing. Eventually, he slides free, and you’re reminded that he came inside you when it trickles down your ass. 

“I’m not on birth control, you know.” You eye him as he flops next to you, making himself comfortable, as if this is his bed and you’re the guest. “Unless you want some kid of yours running around, you owe me a Plan B.”

He shrugs.

“Makes no difference to me. It wouldn’t be my first child or my last.” 

“Ha, right,” you stretch your legs, sore from being bent for so long. After a pause, you turn to him again.

“Wait, really?”

[koisuko]

Hello, I was wondering if you would write a romantic Smoke x female reader, about Smoke trains the reader self defense but they start to flirt and become handy with each other?

Yesss, more Tomas lovers!

Tw: handsy behavior, flirtation, may contain lewd suggestions, fem reader, no use of y/n

You are far from incapable of taking care of yourself, and Tomas knew that. But having a boyfriend who was both a ninja, and had ninja enemies, he was worried for your safety. Often times, his mind would run wild with ‘what if’ questions. ‘What if I’m not there to save her’ ‘what if something happens to her’ ‘what if she gets taken, or worse’ and many more. So, to set his mind at ease, you agreed to train with him and learn some basic self defense. It couldn’t hurt to learn something new, and maybe you’ll be able to fight along side him…someday.

Every morning, you two would wake up early to have the training grounds to yourselves. Tomas wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable, and wouldn’t be shy or embarrassed if you made a mistake in front of others. Plus, you two would have alone time to be yourselves without any on lookers giving awkward side-eyes.

Today, training was done a little bit earlier than usual. The moon hung high over the sky, bathing the courtyard in an almost ethereal glow. The calls of night life offered a backdrop to the sounds of grunts and exerted breaths. “Good, again.” Tomas repeated, repositioning himself opposite of you with a twirl of his Karambit. Blankets of heavy smoke swirled around his figure, moving to settle beside him on either side. You nod, careful to perfect your defensive stance. The role was simple, Tomas wouldn’t go easy on you, as promised, and you would work on your defense as if against a real enemy. “Remember,” he spoke, “don’t be afraid to hit me, okay?” You hesitated at first, but nod reluctantly. With the confirmation out of the way, he charged at you, running low with his karambit held at his side. You tried your best to keep your confidence, but seeing him run at you was intimidating, causing your stance to falter and allowing him an opening to attack. Before long, your back collided harshly against the ground. The sheer velocity nearly knocking the wind out of you. Tomas kept you beneath him with his thighs firmly closed around you, forcefully keeping your arms at your side. His arms caged either side of your head, and the close proximity of his lips to yours was making you blush. "Do not hesitate, be sure of your actions or you create an opening for attack." His words bounced off the skin of your cheek. The best part of this whole situation, he seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

He paused in his movements, giving you a questioning look. His head tilted to the side as his eyes trail along the contours of your face. He was confused, concerned even, at the red hue swallowing your cheeks and your parting lips gasping for air. “What’s wrong?” Tomas asked, his brows knitted together. The only response you could give, was a pathetic squeak, squirming beneath him while turning your face away to provide at least some space between the two of you. To your surprise, he grasped the base of your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his once again. “Do you need a break?” He was still blissfully unaware, the stupid look of concern still written on his features. “I-I’m fine, Tomas,” you replied. Tomas loosened the pressure of his thighs on your body, giving you the prime opportunity to use your weight and strength to reverse the roles. With a thud and a grunt, he was now beneath you, your face still flush with embarrassment. Tomas was surprised, is eyes shot wide from the sudden turn of events. “V-very good, you did well!” He blushed at the sudden power you had, his stutter causing you to giggle in response. “I think I like you better from this angle,” you smirked, placing a hand on his chest. You pushed yourself up, reaching out to help him. You could feel the slick sweat of his palms between your clasped hands. He was nervous, in a good way of course. Tomas unknowingly had a love struck smile on his face, hearts nearly visible in his pupils. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Tomas took a deep breath to gather courage before approaching, gingerly placing a hand on your waist, “you did well today.” For a split second, he admired the shape of you, every bump and curve that created you. His eyes trailed back up to meet yours with a tender smile. “Let’s get some rest.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi there, I love your writing and I’m always amazed how you write so much every day!

Could I request a story where G!P Donna and Reader haven’t made love yet because Donna always makes excuses and seems very shy about it and Reader doesn’t want to pressure her, but it’s starting to make Reader feel a little insecure and she wonders if Donna doesn’t desire her in that way. Donna starts spending more time hiding away in her workshop and one day Reader enters and finds her masturbating there. Donna is embarrassed and admits that she’s worried she wouldn’t have enough stamina to please Reader during sex since it would be her first time, and admits she’s been disappearing to ‘take care of her needs’ multiple times a day to train herself to last a long time. Reader just reassures her it’ll be fine no matter what, pulls her to the bedroom and they finally make love, it’s very gentle with Reader slowly riding her, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Yess!!! Thank you for your kindness! Yes, it's a hard work, but I love doing it!!!! Thank you for your request too!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Please you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 7,507

Summary: You were trying to be loved, but she's alwasy so shy...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

The music sounded distant, as if that record wasn't really spinning, as if nothing around really existed, only her and you. Only you, a common village girl dancing with a lady in black, letting your hands caress each other, letting your bodies move.

In your life you always looked for an easy love, a girl from the village who would smile at you, who seemed kind, who would end up breaking your heart. Already plunged into the despair of having been born in the wrong place, at the wrong time, you stopped believing that there really was someone for you out there.

But by chance, you met the woman who was now your dance partner, the woman who caressed you, who pleased you with thousands of compliments, who kissed you, thanking you for your simple existence.

Donna Beneviento, the village Lord, servant of Mother Miranda, was nothing but a dark legend for your family, for the rest of the villagers like you. Meeting her was a coincidence, loving her was simply destiny.

She was… Everything you were looking for, everything you dreamed of after every failure, after every love disappointment. She was a sick woman, self-conscious about her appearance, about the cruel gifts the Black Gods had granted her. But she was… Simply Donna, simply something you could not categorize, an intelligent, shy woman, who blushed every time you reminded her how beautiful she was without that horrible black veil on.

Loving her was a reflex action, involuntary but desired. No matter how many problems, how many absurd fears, how many unfounded jealousies, you would never leave. You would never fulfill her greatest fear, the fear of fear itself, being left alone again.

And so, under the dim light of that mansion, under the diffuse sound of that romantic music, you danced in silence, with a smile, with nothing to say, with much to feel.

You sighed when the music stopped leaning on her chest, closing your eyes to feel the soft movements of a shy woman, that soft laugh that was always accompanied by a blush.

“I had a great time tonight, tesoro,” the lady whispered, moving you away so she could see that smile, the one she adored.

You nodded, sighing again, capturing her lips in a soft, tender kiss, one of those for which you would be capable of selling your soul even to Mother Miranda herself.

“Mm, well, it's been like any other night,” you joked in a soft voice, playing with her hands. Her gaze cooled and she frowned.

“What do you mean?” Donna asked in a more serious, worried tone.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. That she understood your jokes, your words with double meanings or a normal conversation between two people was something still needed to be improved.

“I mean... I have a good time with you every night, Donna,” you whispered in a playful way, creating with your words, a new dazzling smile on her face.

“Oh, good,” she said nervously, nodding embarrassed by her clumsiness.

“I love those romantic dinners you prepare for me...” you whispered in a much more affectionate, more direct tone, slowly approaching her ear. “I think I couldn't live without them.”

Donna laughed again, kissing you slowly, sailing on your lips again and gently grabbing your waist. You, sighing, hoping that, indeed, that night would not end like all the others, with a quick kiss and the bedroom light turned off, bit your lip.

“But... Maybe it's too soon to call it a night, don't you think?” you purred in her ear, unintentionally causing her to shudder, shyly moving away.

“Aren't you tired?” she asked innocently, blinking in confusion.

You, accustomed to this game of pretending that your advances had no effect on her, approached again, shaking your head and absentmindedly playing with the buttons of her dress.

“Not at all,” you said in a soft, suggestive tone, one that not even the most naive person in the world would be able to ignore. “Mmm, we could do something, you know.”

“Like what?” the lady asked, curious, with a nervous laugh.

“Well, I thought maybe… We could go down to the basement and…” you suggested, pretending that you weren't as direct as you seemed, that you weren't looking forward to taking a much-desired next step in your relationship, one that was taking too long to arrive.

“To, to the basement,” she repeated, with a more relaxed face, subtly fleeing from your caresses on her chest, from your glassy eyes that conveyed fierceness and lust.

“Yes, Donna, to the basement,” you said amused, not allowing the lady to escape again, grabbing her by the waist, closing your two hands on her back, keeping her close, very close. “I thought… Well, we could bring down some of that delicious wine and…”

“Oh, do you want to watch a movie?” she said in a different tone, less fearful. She always did the same.

She always was deflecting your attempts to seduce her in an almost masterful way. For some time now, you've been wondering if she really was that innocent, or if she was just playing with you.

“Um…” you whispered confused, releasing her from your grip and scratching the back of your neck at another of your failures.

Maybe your problem was subtlety, maybe it was just you, you didn't know, and you didn't want to think about it.

“I, I'd really like to watch a movie with you, (Y/N),” she said nervously, playing with her hands, as if that romantic atmosphere had been blurred by your attempt to dance under the sheets.

Well, a partially darkened room with the woman you loved by your side… It didn't sound like a bad idea.

“Okay, let's watch a movie,” you said with a slightly forced smile, with your head thinking of hundreds, thousands of strategies you could use to take advantage of the situation.

Donna nodded enthusiastically, kissing you quickly and taking your hand, walking with you to the elevator.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, showing you a metal box while you sat on the small sofa, enjoying her movements, her discreet curses at the mess of the old office.

Without much effort, you looked up to read the title and nodded passively. Donna looked at you again, smiling as she did every time, as if, deep inside, she also had the horrible feeling that you were nothing but an illusion.

The white screen began to light up and, with a sigh, the lady in black sat next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders, leaning you against her body.

Imbued with her floral perfume, being caressed by her soft hands, by her fingers playing with your hair, you almost forgot what you wanted. Love, romance always came before your needs, Donna's love for you, your love for her.

A romantic movie wasn't the best of scenarios either. You were always too emotional.

“But why is he leaving? She loved him,” you said, watching for the umpteenth time the scene at the airport, the one that couldn't help but make you cry. Donna looked at you and kissed your head, snuggling you closer to her body.

“You always say the same thing in this scene,” she said, amused, wiping away one of your tears. “Don't cry, tesoro... It's just a movie.”

“I know but... Sometimes I imagine something else is going to happen, you know? But no, the idiot always leaves, leaves her with a broken heart. Hey, couldn't you make people hallucinate?”

Donna shifted, ashamed of the powers that turned her into a monster, according to her, that turned her into a warning, into a terrifying story to tell around the fire.

“I... I can,” she sighed, squeezing the hand that was tangled in your hair, nervous, without realizing she was starting to hurt you.

You, used to those little attacks, those that you almost always caused without wanting to, took your hand away from your hair, kissing it with affection and an understanding smile.

“I didn't want to make you nervous, I just, I just want to know if you could change the ending of that disgusting movie,” you said with an amused tone, thus driving away her demons. “I mean, you could make me watch it, right?”

“It doesn't work that way, (Y/N),” she said with a still nervous tone, but breathing slowly to calm down. “I don't know what could happen to you if I…”

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…” you said, moving your hands to forget that awkward conversation. “Why don't we watch another one?” you asked, getting up from the sofa, recovering, after that disastrous ending, the desire to want to satisfy your desires.

“It's a bit late, isn't it?” she asked, amused, watching how, clumsily, you moved the boxes, searching.

“No,” you said amused, extending a new box towards the brunette, who looked at it, and then at you, with a knowing smile.

“It's okay,” she whispered, kissing you as she got up to carefully change the movie.

At least a comedy movie wouldn't interfere with your intentions.

You laughed, you hugged each other again. Time passed even faster, like a sinister countdown that prevented you from making your well-studied movements. Stopping paying attention to Chaplin, you moved a little closer to the lady in black, kissing her neck subtly.

Donna moved nervously, but she didn't say anything to you, she didn't even turn to look at you. Good...

Your kisses continued to be soft, subtle, your fingers caressing the visible parts of her skin. A shy smile formed on her lips as she hugged your body, bringing you closer, giving you more opportunities to attack.

Your hand turned her face, held it so your lips mercilessly launched themselves at hers. She didn't cut off your kisses, she returned them, trying to maintain that subtle fierceness, those soft gasps that unintentionally began to escape from her lips.

“(Y/N)” she said nervously, putting a hand on your chest so you would give her a break. You looked at her with a good girl face, blinking petulantly. “The, the movie.”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the screen, which was now simply illuminated, without displaying any image. “Oh, it's over,” you whispered, pretending to pout, kissing her again, crawling across the small sofa until you could push her so her back was leaning on it.

“Wait,” she said, trying to speak among deep kisses, controlling your hands, which traveled restlessly over her dress.

You, sighing, stopped, without moving away, cornering her on the sofa.

“We, we should go…To, to bed,” Lady Beneviento stammered, breathing heavily, her legs shaking from the caresses of your hands.

Your smile widened even more. Maybe you had finally gotten her to give in to giving you what you wanted. You were just being naive…

“It's true… It's much better there,” you whispered, standing up, grabbing her hand and pulling it. Donna didn't move and you stopped short. “Donna?”

“No, you didn't understand me… I… I'm, I'm sleepy,” she said, faking a loud yawn. You rolled your eyes, predicting another resounding failure. “I want to go to bed to, to sleep.”

“Sleep? Really?” you asked with frustration darkening the tone of your voice, the intonation of your words. Laughing nervously, you turned around, with your hands on your hips, kicking the floor impatiently.

Donna nodded nervously, unable to look you in the eyes. You remained thoughtful, seeing the desperate attitude of the brunette, observing her until you realized a small detail.

“Wow, what's that?” you joked, pointing shamelessly at the deformity of her dress, one that betrayed her own arousal.

The lady in black looked at the same spot, covering her noticeable erection with her hands, terribly embarrassed.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she apologized, with her cheeks flushed, moving away from you so you would stop looking at her. “I…”

“Oh, please, Donna…” you purred again, trapping the brunette in your arms again. She moved nervously, with a shy look, her breathing even more agitated. “Come on, come here, I'll help you with that.”

“What? No… No… It's just that…” she said, playing with your hands so they wouldn't go down her dress, comically backing away while you slowly chased her, stalking her. “It, it was unintentional.”

“Unintentional,” you murmured, nodding reluctantly, arching your eyebrows to emphasize your lustful eyes, trapping poor Donna against a wall.

She nodded, maneuvering her way out of your arms, moving away from you as she played with her hands.

“Hey, come on, come here Donna,” you said with an impatient tone, chasing her again as she circled around the furniture to escape your lust. “What are you doing?”

“I can't, (Y/N),” she said shyly, when you managed to catch her again.

You, sighing defeated once more, looking into her bright, wet eye, nodded, relaxing your grip.

“Oh, okay…” you murmured in a sad voice, moving away from her, rolling your eyes. A strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“I'm sorry, tesoro… But it's just…” she said with a pleading tone, caressing your cheek, searching for the words in her mind, the ones she couldn't seem to find. “I'm just… A, a bit tired.”

“You're always tired,” you whispered softly, reassuring yourself.

No, you couldn't insist, you promised her that you would wait, that you wouldn't pressure her.

Donna lowered her head, sobbing, embarrassed by her attitude, by having disappointed you once again.

“Hey, hey, come on…” you said softly, cupping her face in your hands, relaxing your expression and repressing your instincts. “I didn't mean to be like that, honey… I'm sorry.”

She nodded, letting you rest her forehead against yours while she grabbed your waist, while her sobs calmed down little by little.

“Donna, I'm sorry, okay?” you repeated with a more understanding voice, regretful for that stupid chase, for breaking your word of being patient and wait. “I didn't want to ruin this night.”

The lady in black nodded slowly, sighing, hugging you almost desperately, grabbing your clothes as she buried her head in your shoulder.

“Come on, come on…” you said, comforting her crying, her shame. “Nothing, is wrong…”

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N), I…” she stammered, moving away. “I think, I think it'll be better if… I go to bed.”

“I'm going with you,” you said with a tender smile.

Donna shook her head.

“No, I, I want, I want to be alone, per favore…” she murmured.

If she wanted to be alone you had to let her be. Her mind was too hurt. Your actions always had consequences that you couldn't foresee. It was better to leave her alone.

“Donna…” you sighed, with the doll maker already leaving through the door, with the sound of heels walking quickly through the hallways.

Taking a breath, passing a hand over your forehead, you let yourself fall back on the sofa.

Another mistake, another failure.

Yes, you were not the typical girl who considered sex as an essential pillar of a relationship, that love was shown by how many times two bodies fused into one. No, you were not like that, you were romantic, understanding.

But little by little that desire to break the last barrier that remained between Donna and you became stronger and stronger. It was not just lust, desire, livid, no, it was love, it was the most intimate expression of it, the last step of mutual feelings, the last peak to climb.

Donna was shy, an isolated woman for much of her life. You could not blame her for being reluctant to make love, for being afraid of that moment. You knew how ashamed she was of the gift of the Gods. To find out what was hidden under that black dress took you quite a while.

You never cared. You only cared about her, only Donna was important to you, not those stupid and insignificant details.

Time passed, and that moment, that night of passion never came. Excuses, absurd rushes, non-existent commitments… Anything was good to make you stop insisting, to keep your claws and stop harassing Donna with your insinuations. You could have given up a long time ago, but you didn't want to. If you didn't do anything, that moment would never come.

Shyness, loneliness, shame… There were many things that could prevent Donna from making love to you, but, of all of them, there was one that really worried you.

She had never been with anyone, no one had ever loved her, kissed her, caressed her… All those sensations were new to the lady in black. Love was something she didn't know about. The more stupid and ridiculous her excuses were, the louder the thoughts that began to haunt your mind.

What if she really didn't love you?

What if she keeps you with her just so she won't be alone?

Does she love you?

Questions that led to a dangerous answer, to a no, to a denial of her feelings when it came to intimacy, to a lack of desire for you, to not wanting to dive into the depths of someone she didn't really love.

It seemed absurd. Her body reacted to your caresses, to your kisses. That was much worse. If Donna really didn't love you, she wasn't going to let her body take the initiative, she didn't believe in sex without love, she told you that several times.

The bedroom was lit, and a black shadow rested on the bed. The lady in black was crying, face down, against a pillow. You sighed.

“Hey, Donna,” -you whispered quietly, sitting on the bed and resting your hand on her shoulder. The lady was startled, revealing her face wet with tears.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered with a broken voice. You weren't going to listen to her, of course.

“Donna...” you sighed again, pulling her up, unable to reject your comforting touch. “Come on, calm down.”

“I'm, I'm calm,” she said in a serious tone, changing her wounded face to a cold one, to one that made a shiver run down your spine.

“It was my fault, really,” you said in a soft voice, rubbing her back, taking her shaking hand. “I promised I wouldn't pressure you and I did, forgive me.”

She shook her head, shifting on the spot and looking down, still holding your hand.

“Why is it so important to you?” she asked in a cold tone, her gaze lost. You sighed once more, searching for an answer you didn't have.

“It's not that important,” you said unsure of your own words. “I would just really like to make love to you, Donna.”

The lady in black nodded slowly, a familiar blush creeping across her cheeks.

“I'm sure you've made it with many people,” she whispered, playing with the sheet, threatening to tear it from the pressure of her hands.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. It was a dangerous conversation.

“Well... With...” you started to say, interrupted by a hand covering your mouth along with an angry growl.

“Basta, I don't want to hear it,” she protested, squeezing her hand tightly.

You, with a gasp, pushed her away. You had to use a lot of strength. Again, she was very nervous.

“You’ve asked me,” you said taking a breath, keeping her hand in your lap, fighting against its trembling.

“I didn't ask you, it was a statement,” she hissed, removing her hand from yours with a nervous gasp. “You should learn to listen better.”

“Oh, okay,” you said with a surprised smile, your brow furrowed by that brusque tone of the brunette. “I don't listen, huh?”

“No, you don’t,” Donna whispered dryly, looking away again. “You never listen.”

“Great, now it’s my fault,” you said incredulously, pointing at yourself.

“It's the first thing you said when you arrived,” the lady defended herself, with an arrogant tone, defensive, as always when her fears danced uncontrolled in her mind.

“So you do listen?” you asked ironically.

“Yes, I do,” she answered, moving away a little more, crossing her arms.

You snorted, closing your eyes to calm yourself, to not let your pride eat up her problems, to not start another horrible argument.

“Listen to me Donna, I, I don't know what it is that scares you, but... I can tell you what scares me.”

She looked at you, calmer but with the same hateful gleam in her eyes.

“I'm afraid of... That... That you don't love me,” you sighed, letting out your own fears. You couldn't expect any other kind of reaction.

The lady in black got up from the bed, looking at you angrily.

“What? I don't love you? How can you say that?” she asked with a frown. You, tired of falling into her traps, shrugged your shoulders, looking at your nails with disinterest.

“I don't know, I don't feel... Desired,” you murmured, changing pity for a riskier, more dangerous strategy.

“Is love just feeling desired for you?” she asked furiously, with white knuckles due to the pressure of her closed fists.

“No, but it helps,” you said with a cocky tone.

“Stupida...” the lady growled, pacing back and forth in the room, nervous, terribly nervous.

“Oh, you insult me, great,” you said amused, pretending to enjoy that situation.

“You don't... You don't understand...” she said, stopping walking, turning around while running a hand through her hair. “You don't understand, (Y/N).”

You smiled subtly, getting up and grabbing her from behind gently by the waist. She struggled, but gave in, sighing sadly again.

“You're right. I don't understand...” you whispered in a calm voice, turning her around little by little. “That's why I want you to tell me what the problem is. Talk to me, Donna, please.”

“You wouldn't understand, you'll laugh at me,” she said, with a shy tone, showing again her true helplessness, one that sometimes you adored.

“I won't, I promise,” you whispered, caressing her face lovingly, giving her a kind of emotional support with your hand.

Donna seemed to want to say something, but after a few seconds, she changed her mind, walking away from you, sitting on the bed with a tired sigh.

“(Y/N)… Do you love me?” the lady asked in a low, almost inaudible voice. You frowned and walked next to her.

“Of course I love you,” you said with a smile, bending down and leaning on her knees, rubbing them affectionately.

The lady in black smiled back at you, a shy smile, almost imperceptible.

“Me too,” she whispered. “And I, I would really like to… You know, show it to you.”

“Fine,” you said, getting up and sitting next to her, comically pinching her cheek, giving your ears another of her shy laughs.

“I just… I need some time,” Donna said with a serious tone, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“It's okay, Donna, I'll give you all the time you need…” you finally said, kissing her lips, sealing that bitter discussion, accepting that, if you wanted to love her fully, you would have to wait.

After that day there weren't many changes. Love, kisses, caresses… Everything seemed to continue as always. That was a good sign, the sign that your own insecurities hadn't affected hers. You pretended to have forgotten, you stopped making suggestions, getting closer to her attraction, you let her go at her own pace.

Donna seemed much calmer with you, she didn't seem to fidget as much when your hand traveled over her chest. But, despite that positive change, that increase in confidence, her shy and embarrassed attitude was still very present.

Making dolls was always something that kept her isolated from the world, including you. Normally, she spent hours in her workshop, working almost obsessively. You were always the one who came down, the one who claimed her attention.

But lately, she told you that she was too busy to allow herself distractions. That didn't surprise you, but that kind of routine escape to the basement did, that time when the lady in black seemed to want to hide.

You had left her alone, she had nothing to fear, you weren't going to throw yourself at her neck. Even so, she always vanished for a while, many times, even without you realizing it. It wasn't a normal situation, but it wasn't something you weren't prepared for either. You just had to remember all those years of loneliness.

“Checkmate, silly,” Angie said, in one of your new and frequent chess games. Donna's absence made the doll's behavior much worse. Something that was also… Suspicious.

“You win again… Yay…” you said with false enthusiasm, knocking down your king.

“I'm the best,” she said proudly, laughing in a way that could scare even the bravest.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, something that alerted the doll.

“Do you have something to say, loser?” she mocked. You blinked cockily and leaned back on the couch.

“Yeah, where's Donna? It's almost two,” you asked, looking at the clock and frowning.

“In her workshop,” Angie answered, placing the pieces back on the board.

“I know. It was a rhetorical question,” you sighed, moving your legs impatiently. “Why aren't you with her?”

Angie shrugged comically.

“I don't know, she said she wanted to be alone,” Angie explained to you, with a surprisingly calmer tone.

“Um…” you said, arching your eyebrows.

“Let's play again,” the doll said, jumping on the floor. You, tired of that situation, shook your head, getting up with a sigh.

“Maybe later. I'm going to look for her, she might have fallen asleep,” you murmured, moving away from the doll, who suddenly turned around, tugging at your dress.

“Donna doesn't want you there, stupid,” Angie protested. You, with a mocking look, released the wooden hands from your clothes.

“Maybe she doesn’t, but I'm her girlfriend,” you said, walking towards the elevator. “I can bother her if I want.”

Sticking your tongue out at Angie, and enduring her angry insults, you went down to the basement. The place was sinister, but that silence... It wasn't normal.

You walked slowly towards the doors of the workshop, uncomfortable for disturbing her, for disobeying her request of not interrupt her work. But that day it was later than usual, and curiosity and suspicion ran through your veins.

“(Y/N)...” a broken whisper reached your ears behind the wooden doors.

You were about to open them, but upon hearing that panting voice, you stopped with a confused look.

Little by little, you opened the door, poking your head through it, with a perfectly rehearsed look of apology.

What you saw almost made you give yourself away.

The lady in black was sitting in front of her work table, with her head down, with her arm moving slowly between her legs. You opened your eyes wide and covered yourself so as not to laugh at that sight.

Her breathing was labored and her movements were calm, but quite obvious, you knew what she was doing perfectly well.

“Hey, Donna,” you said amused, entering the workshop when she seemed more focused, startling her, making her turn around with a terrified look. “Why didn't you wait for me?”

“What are you doing here?!” she shouted furiously, storing her erection in her dress, hiding something that you had already seen, and that it was too late to hide. “I told you not to disturb me! Cazzo! Go away, fuori! Go away!”

“But Donna, what were you doing?” you said, unmovable by the sudden pushes of the doll maker, who trembled with rage and shame.

“Silenzio! Shut up, go away, go away!” the lady shouted, pushing you desperately, not letting you look at her face.

“Hey, stop, you're hurting me,” you said, rubbing one of your shoulders. That was enough to make her stop growling nervously, returning to her table, not letting you see the blush on her cheeks.

“Go away…” she said, breathing deeply, pointing to the workshop door, turning her back on you.

“No, I'm not leaving,” you said sighing, walking slowly towards her, leaning over to see her face disoriented by your intrusion. “Donna…” you hummed. She pressed her lips together, but didn't look at you. “Were you touching yourself?”

“No,” she answered with a dangerous hiss, avoiding eye contact with you despite your movements to get it.

“Of course you were,” you said amused, with that image firmly fixed in your head, an image that, on the other hand, caused a tickling between your legs. “I caught you, honey.”

“So… So what if you caught me,” the doll maker whispered with a broken voice, with anger being a shield for her shame again. “I can do whatever I want. If I want to masturbate, I’ll masturbate.”

“Oh, sure, right…” you said nodding, letting yourself fall into a nearby chair, holding back your laughter at her attitude. “How selfish of you, you could have called me.”

Donna gasped ironically, shaking her head and closing her eye while she buried her head in her arms.

“Damn…” she murmured, pulling at her hair, not knowing how to deal with that situation.

“Come on, it's okay,” you said, calming your laughter and getting a little closer. “It's something natural. You have nothing to be ashamed of... You know what? The other day in the shower... I started thinking about you and...”

“Taci,” she interrupted you, raising her head and sighing in defeat. “You still don't understand anything, do you?”

“Do I have something to understand?” you asked curiously, seeing how the lady in black didn't seem to want to put up with your jokes.

“Do you think I do it just for fun?” she asked back, with a serious look, with your hand again controlling the trembling of hers. You nodded calmly, frowning.

“Well, people usually do it for fun,” you said softly, understandingly.

“I don't,” she said, removing your hand from hers, turning around so you couldn't see her.

“Oh, okay,” you sighed, resting an elbow on the table. Donna looked at you thoughtfully and tilted her head up, letting the air out of her lungs slowly.

“Maybe, maybe… Before I met you I… I did it from time to time, you know, my body asked for it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said understandingly, nodding, listening attentively. “It's a need.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “But when, when I met you… Everything, everything was so different, so… New to me…”

“I understand,” you whispered, tenderly touching her shoulder. She grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers, lowering it to her lap.

“I've never made love to anyone, (Y/N). I, I guess you already knew that but, but I've never told you,” Donna confessed to you.

Yes, you already knew, but it was true that it was something you sensed, not that you knew for sure.

“I know, don't worry,” you said, keeping that smile that reassured her.

“Not, not even... You know, before, before... This,” she said, briefly pointing to her lap.

“Well, it doesn't have to be a bad thing,” you said, helping her express herself with soft caresses, with eyes that could only convey love.

“It is!” Donna shrieked abruptly, blinking erratically. “You still, you still don't understand it... I'm, I'm afraid of...”

“Of what, my love?” you asked, guiding her face to yours, a sad and embarrassed face, but equally beautiful.

“Of not satisfying you,” the lady finally said, lowering her head.

“What nonsense,” you joked incredulously, finally giving an explanation to that fear, to that reluctance, to that constant rejection.

“It must be nonsense to you. To me it's not,” she said with a slightly dark tone, annoyed by your words. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’ll be able to… You know, last long enough.”

You blinked, holding back your laughter again. Yes, it was an understandable, but a stupid concern for you.

“Donna,” you said, amused. “Is that why you didn’t want to…?”

“I can’t fail you, (Y/N), you, you’re the love of my life and I’m just… I’m just… Useless.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered lovingly, turning her face back to look at you. She slowly pulled away, shaking her head. “You’re not useless.”

“I am,” she answered abruptly, controlling the desire she had to lose control of her emotions. “I've been, I've been trying for days… Trying, trying to… La, last a little longer…”

“Wait, days?” you asked amused, opening your eyes wide. “Are you telling me that every time you went down to the workshop it was to…?”

Donna just nodded nervously, hiding her embarrassment as best she could.

“Well, well, well…” you murmured, giving her a nudge. “I didn't expect that.”

“You're making fun of me,” the lady hissed, with a dark look, moving away.

“No, no, Donna,” you said hastily. “I'm not making fun of you, I'm just… I'm surprised.”

“Are you surprised because I masturbate to be able to please you?” she asked in an annoyed, offended manner. You nodded effusively.

“Yes, in fact I am,” you whispered, sighing romantically. “No one has ever done… Something like that for me.”

“Enough, stop laughing at me,” Donna said, furious, getting up from the chair, her breathing altered again. You got up too, waving your hands in a gesture of reassurance.

“Yes, I’m laughing at you,” you admitted cockily, crossing your arms. “Oh, Donna, don't worry. I'll enjoy it, I'm sure.”

“That's what you say now,” she growled, pushing away some wild hands that were pulling at her waist. “Then, you'll, you'll get tired and… You'll, you'll leave me.”

You, not wanting to continue another of her self-presenting monologues, silenced the brunette's fears with a quick, intense but short kiss, which made her blink in confusion.

“Donna… You're very sweet,” you whispered romantically, with an amused but sincere smile, returning the softness of her skin to your hands, caressing her cheek. “You don't have to do that for me, do you understand? I will always love you, I will always want you.”

“But, but…” the lady stammered, on the verge of tears.

“Shh,” you hissed, putting a finger on her lips, with a smile that slowly became seductive. “Do you know how to get rid of the fear of heights?”

Donna shook her head, nervous, but accepting your approach.

“Looking over a cliff…” you whispered in her ear, moving away slowly, taking her hand and leaving the workshop with her.

“Where are we going?” she asked confused, with her hand firmly in yours as your steps, increasingly slower, headed towards the bedroom.

“Let's get this over with,” you said in a velvety tone, opening the door, walking with a soft movement of your hips.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna hesitated, silenced again by one of your kisses.

“Come on, darling, look over the cliff. Donna, love me…” you whispered again, biting her earlobe, dragging her to the bed, on top of you, silencing her fears, her protests with hundreds of kisses, with hands that ran over her body.

Donna was unsure, hesitant and trembling, but, somehow, those caresses, those kisses that you never tired of giving her seemed to have their effect. She kissed you back, in a passionate way, following the rhythm marked by your incipient lust, the one that was stirred and altered by that vision in the workshop.

Your fingers took advantage of the distraction your kisses had on her, running down her dress until they found their prey, those buttons that remained her beautiful body hidden, depriving your eyes of a divine vision.

The brunette kissed you passionately, running over your body, fearful but determined to explore it, not to back down.

Her pale skin was exposed to you when you pushed aside that horrible black fabric, when the tips of your fingers felt the exquisiteness of her half-naked torso, forcing your lips to gasp on hers.

“Donna…” you whispered with a mischievous smile, making her look at you, her eye locking with yours as you guided her hand to the ties of your own dress, which, impatient and expectant, gave way to the skill of her slender fingers.

“Così bella…” she murmured, enthralled by your skin now free of clothing, by your bare shoulders serving as a prelude to the discovery of your body.

You laughed provocatively at those sweet words, those that always made you tremble, pulling down her dress, uncovering her shoulders, letting the fabric, also black, of her bra be your next victim.

“Don't stop kissing me, my love…” you murmured, capturing her lips again, sinking your hands into her soft black hair, drawing her body towards yours, your partially uncovered torsos rubbing together, your hips dancing slowly.

She complied with your request, not letting your lips rest, caressing her tongue with yours, wet, warm kisses, completely different from any other display of affection.

Your hands moved down her back, the clasp of her bra yielding to your fingers, eliciting a soft moan from Donna, one that made you writhe in pleasure. She moved to free herself from that annoying garment, letting your hands now travel to her almost perfect breasts, shiny, pale like her skin, beautiful like her.

The lady in black laughed at your curious touch, at some soft pinches on her nipples, daring to do the same, to mercilessly attack your bra and lower her kisses down your neck.

The panting became rhythmic, measured, matching the movements of your hands, your mouth, your fingers running over her skin, lowering the bottom of her dress little by little, and yours next to it.

“You have a beautiful body,” you commented, breathing after another round of tireless, inexhaustible, pleasurable kisses... She looked at you curiously, then looked at herself, shaking her head. “Well, I'm not surprised. You're a beautiful woman, Donna.”

“You're quite a nice talker,” she said, amused, running the palm of her hand over your breasts, studying every inch of your skin, sighing at the sensations her touch caused, how your flesh felt goosebumps with just the touch of her fingers.

“I'm being honest,” you joked, biting your lip, observing her face in love, a face curious about your body.

“Get, get naked, please,” she asked you in a softer, more pleading tone. You frowned but smiled mischievously, slowly pulling down the rest of your dress, playing with your underwear under her watchful gaze.

“What about you? Come on...” you joked, throwing your clothes in the air, running a hand over her hips, down her back, playing with your movements, noticing her arousal, one that you wanted to see free from its prison.

Donna hesitated again, embarrassed, but your soft kisses, your bright gaze seemed to convince her, moving aside those dark clothes to let you see the rest of her body, so you could admire her beauty, the one she tried so hard to hide.

“Not bad, huh?” you said, biting your lip, admiring her already released erection, the physical desire that showed how much Donna wanted to do that, how much not to feel capable of doing it hurt her. She shook her head, looking at herself and blushing.

“Don’t, don't look at it that way,” the brunette told you shyly, kissing you again so you would stop bothering her with your lascivious gaze.

“I like looking at it, it's nice,” you said in a seductive tone, savoring your words, those that you knew made her more nervous.

“No one had ever said something like that to me, it's embarrassing,” Donna said, laughing shyly.

 She positioned herself better, brushing your now discovered wetness, caressing your folds with curiosity, but strangely, skillfully, knowing what to touch, what to massage….

“Donna…” you moaned when her stimulation made you tremble, when the pleasure of her fingers brushed your clit, exploring your wetness, caressing it as if it were something fragile, beautiful. “That, that's… Great.”

She smiled pleased by your approval, but with a sad face. Yes, you should have known, she wasn't always like this, she knew what she had to do to your body to make it tremble with pleasure.

But you weren't the protagonist. You weren't the one who had to lose your fear. No, that was for Donna, only for Donna.

With a playful laugh, you reached between her legs, unexpectedly grabbing her shaft, stimulating it with gentle caresses, holding it with your fingers, gently moving up and down, positioning it at your entrance.

“Come on, baby, love me…” you whispered, moving your hips so her erection brushed against your wetness, so your entrance received those caresses. The brunette moaned at the contact, closing her eye at that newly discovered pleasure.

Donna nodded, moving to make her way into your body, slowly penetrating you, enjoying every moment of that sensation, the wet journey of her penis inside of you, the welcoming embrace of your wet walls, stretching slowly.

You moaned, surprised by the sensation, overwhelmed by that pleasure you desired and now had.

“Si… si sente così… Bene…” the doll maker stammered, moving very slowly, letting your body receive her, embrace her, experience the unparalleled pleasure of that first time. “Does… Does it hurt?”

You opened your eyes, getting used to that sensation, with the pleasure running through your body, sending electric currents through your nervous system.

“No, of course it doesn’t…” you said smiling, caressing her cheek, enjoying her erratic gaze, disoriented by the pleasure. “But it’s… Quite big…”

“Don't say that, per favore,” she said nervously, looking away, stopping moving, unsure of the shame your lascivious words caused her.

“Okay,” you said, calming the ferocity of your desire, moving your hands to her waist, moving her slowly to resume the pleasure of her body inside of yours. “Move, Donna.”

She nodded nervously, dancing slowly with her hips, moaning at each slow thrust, at how your body caressed her, surrounded her and squeezed her tightly, giving her even more pleasure.

“I, I would have liked to hurt you…” she murmured, now with a constant rhythm, making you stop moaning, opening your eyes with a frown. “So… I would know that… You are only mine…”

You knew she was letting herself get carried away by the pleasure, in fact, you found that brief burst of possessiveness quite erotic, forcing your hips to keep pace with hers, to move a bit faster, just a bit, without losing that warm and soft rhythm.

“Donna, keep going, keep going…” you moaned, losing control too, nervously shaking at her moans, at that shy voice that came out of her lips, at those words that you didn’t understand, but you knew that they only were worshiping your body.

“Wait, wait,” she said suddenly, slowly pulling out of you, shaking her head. You looked at her frustrated at the loss of the path to your release, thinking that, surely, hers was also embarrassingly close.

“Hey, baby, if you're going to cum, do it, it's okay. Don't hold back,” you said with a voice filled with lust, but with the softness that the situation required.

“No, it's not that, I... I want, I want you to... Turn around, please,” Donna asked you, embarrassed. You smiled, seeing that she had finally lost her fear. It would be better not to tell her that it always was your favorite position.

“Mm, okay,” you purred, kissing her quickly and turning yourself onto your stomach while she raised your hips, not wanting to waste time, entering you again, moving your body with her hands.

“Oh, yes... Just like that...” she moaned, thrusting into you in that same slow way, but now more intense, letting you feel her completely, letting her slide, stretching your walls from that different angle. “You are, you are mine, tesoro…”

“I’m yours,” you moaned, gripping the sheets, noticing how your body was shaking worse. Donna moaned again when she heard you, moving faster.

“I, I'm sorry…I, I can't hold it any longer… I'm… I'm going to…” she said nervously, unable to let your hips go, digging her nails into your skin.

“Please… Do it…” you moaned, with a sweet voice, broken by a familiar feeling, by those little tremors in your legs and the desire your muscles had to tense. “Donna… I'm going… I'm going to… Ah!”

You couldn't help it. Your back arched, your walls tightened around her as your orgasm ran through your body.

“Oh…” Donna moaned, overcome by that sensation, releasing herself almost at the same time, inside of you, filling you, claiming you, caressing you with a wet touch, with her warmth seed, stimulating your lust even more. “Cazzo…”

Silence reigned in the room only interrupted by a few nervous breaths, some that tried to recover the air that was missing.

“Donna, come,” you said in a whisper, turning around when she left you, pulling her hand to accompany you to the side of the bed, hugging her with your still trembling hands.

“I, I told you I wouldn't last enough…” she said in a sad voice, snuggling into your chest, embarrassed. You couldn't help but laugh. “(Y/N)…” she whispered annoyed.

“Nonsense Donna, it's been wonderful. You are wonderful.”

[yurinaa-world]

Characters: Housewarden x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Housewarden With flirty S/o

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes, might be ooc

Notes: I am writing for twisted wonderland now!

𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

Who knows how you both got together and how you started dating each other?

He cannot handle your comments at all. like how you say all that and not be embarrassed while he, on the other hand, is all red in the face while lecturing you not to use such words in the land of the queen of hearts.

In return, you tell him, "I don’t see any type of rule that stops me from complimenting the Queen's beauty. You grin ear to ear while he just goes silent. The boy was left speechless.

As you decide to push your luck more than you already have and grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, Ah, what have you done after awhile? He calmed down, but don’t think you're not going to get a lecture after all; he must set an example so you don't do it in public.

But did you listen? Of course you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but he never told you not to flirt in private, and when in private, you do so much more to tease him, something like giving him kisses all over his face or blowing in his ear; such simple things get him so riled up!

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

He’ll definitely go along with what you're putting out; if you think you can fluster him, you can dream, but it’ll never happen even if you try your hardest.

But who knows if you don’t try? You did many things to see him get all red, but nothing... Nothing; he just returns the energy you gave him, tells you he’s tired, wraps his arms around you, and falls asleep—not the things you wanted out of him.

Well, if words won’t get you the reaction you wanted, then your actions might, so you start to kiss his hand or intertwine your hands and give him a direct kiss on the lips.

He just smirks and somehow makes you go red instead! Leona just laughs at your gaping mouth and your rose-coloured cheeks, but you’ll keep on trying! Since nothing is impossible!

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

Well, if he can deal with Floyd, then he can definitely deal with your flirtiness.

But once you saw his octopus form for the first time, you knew you had something. Well,  you of course asked him if you could see him in his octopus, and after a lot of convincing, he did!

Well, he was pretty increure about showing this side of himself; he looked so red, and you told him that there was no need for him to be embarrassed; he looked so cute. He told you not to stare, but how could you not?

Azul doesn’t believe you at all, but you really mean what you said; he looks cute! You ask him if you could possibly touch his tentacles; they look so soft and squishy.

𝒦𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓂 𝒜𝓁-𝒜𝓈𝒾𝓂

He’d be pretty chill with your flirting.

not really flirty back, but he doesn’t need to since he’s always making you break with his bright smile and how he calls you beautiful; he does gushes to Kalim about you and how you're so pretty and how lucky he was to get to date you, and Jamil just listens (Jamil's totally Kamil’s wingman).

When you kiss him, he’s on cloud nine; you can see a little blush on his cheeks. He wanted to repay the favor but wanted to make it special, so he took you a ride on his magic carpet and gave you a kiss, which surprised you but you liked it.

𝒱𝒾𝓁 𝒮𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓉

Of course he loves your compliments; now he doesn’t blame you for being so madly in love with him; he is the fairest.

He’ll take anything you throw at him, no matter how flirtatious, since he’s a celebrity, but he likes to see you get flustered instead since you look so cute when you get a taste of your medicine.

He’ll grab your chin with his thumb pressing on your lips (if that makes sense). How needy you are to want his attention so badly. He is so generous to do so, but don’t get too greedy.

𝐼𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹

You like SSR in a gacha game where odds are like 5% chance of winning, but he was able to get lucky in just one ten pull.

He can’t handle you; even the most lighthearted comment gets him on his knees and has his fiery blue hair turn pink, but when you tease about it, he’ll mutter about how you're wrong, and he would never be flustered by a normie!

He’ll forgive you if you say sorry, but do you stop? No, what's the point in that? So you keep on going, like distracting him from his games with kisses on his neck. He’s muttering with a bit of blush on his pale skin that you're distracting him, but you want to spend time with him, plus he can play his games anytime.

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

I see Malleus understanding your flirting and going along but also getting confused by some of the things you say since he’s been sheltered for a lot of his life (like the man doesn’t know how to use a phone).

How bold of you, child of man, to say things like this to him without any fear! Call yourself lucky since Sebek isn’t there to scream his head off about indecent behavior in THE Malleus Draconia.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[starrbright]

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| Matsukawa Issei

As the title says, this is just me writing Issei in a different light from what I've always thought of him. But a study as well of what I do think of him, can be an outside part of my series I've yet to write about him. And lastly, another venting of mine, I think I projected too much on this, really. I had a light situation that happened and bothered me so much earlier that i had to stopped writing my wip for kishibe (it'll come out this may or before, i promise this time), so.....byeeeee, i teared up at writing this. @iwaberry, @seijhoeist 😁

499 words. LMAOKSKSJSKXKSK. fluff. angst. light smut. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color. La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Marc Fishman

Issei is Issei. Full of wit he effortlessly drives to a cunning state. Persuasive. Simply a snake that slither to anyone for whatever in his gain, the sin that rises from beneath one they didn't even know was there in the beginning, the beautiful murmur that echoes, the one wouldn't dare tempt themselves to be trapped. He's never been a deceiver despite his games, truth always easy to show behind his facade as he intends—he's him.

But, unfortunately—it doesn't work on you. In some very specific cases you most need it, that is.

As his cunningly self is engraved in him, so is a part of yours that keeps you grounded, humbled, mostly too anxious, just straight up so resentful of making a mere mistake that couldn't even count as one in the eyes of many but it is for you. The want to be perfect. Your pride that embarrasses you, one that shames to think it's more about your image than kindness, that strangles you for praise.

It's all unyielding even for a man like him.

He's already found it that part of you is as said; indeed indelible. An endless cycle of episodes.

You're his lover. The most delicate for him. Despite that he tried to ease that away from you, he didn't—never deceived your mind. Then came a simple solution to him after barely thinking about it.

The most normal or rather easy to do that can anyone think of. What he has always done for you to have nothing in your brain.

What he's plainly been doing from the start; loving you.

"My baby." Issei sighs heavily against your mouth that merely kisses him back, as you're already overwhelmed with the scarce time he's began fucking you, keeping his slow thrusts in your cunt above you with his one hand tightly gripped on the headboard of his bed and the other wrapped around your wide and soft back close up against him. Keeping his steady and antagonizing pace amidst the words he praise for you, " I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. My baby. My baby. I love you. My love. My baby. " —relishing your tears, it's liquid gold to him out of what he gives you. "Prettiest thing." Says him as your tears are kissed by his lips.

You're lost in him. Always willingly bending to him until mindlessly as you want it. Moans weakly drowned by your gentle cries, before you can utter anything, he takes your lips again, tears in your mouths. "Y'know, you don't need to say a thing." He mutters between his kisses, still going with the same pace of his pleasure for you both. It's always easy to use his sharp tongue as it is for making you hear how beautiful you are truly.

" Just be good for me, doll. "

" Always good for me. "

" Lovely girl, mine. "

" You're so good to me. "

Loving you is he most loves besides being himself.

[mysteria157]

Moment One: An Old Flame

Rating: Explicit 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content (whole lotta smut, I’m talking: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie…lol you get it).

Word Count: ~6k

Summary: When Nanami has no choice but to work overtime, you bring him dinner as a surprise. But you unexpectedly find his ex-girlfriend already keeping him company. 

Takes place a few weeks after Chapter 15 of It Had To Be You!

Notes: I had this idea way back when I wrote chapter 15 weeks ago and I finally made it a reality last night LOL. I don’t have a beta reader, so sometimes there may be a mistake or two. I have a habit of being way too detailed when I write, and that includes smut. So hopefully you enjoy it! 

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!

Divider: @saradika | Header: myself

Those Moments In Between Masterlist | Moment Two

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

MINORS DNI

Nanami knows better.

He knows that his ex-girlfriend, Pia, is just as devious as she was when they were in undergrad. 

When they were younger and together, she gave sweetness and tender love that made Nanami stick around a bit longer than he should have. Though they had nothing in common and she was far too outgoing, she helped him embrace many different things that were normally out of his comfort zone.

She taught him how to express public displays of affection in his own way. She taught him how to express what he felt when it came to romantic love. 

He was grateful for it. Truly.

Indirectly, her personality only made him realize just how ill-suited they were for one another despite her good intentions.

Pia was spiteful to those who disagreed with her, disrespectful to those who did not have the same values as her, and outlandishly rude to those who came on to Nanami. She covered it all up with smiles, jokes as a means of apology, and an innocent glint in her eyes that Nanami at the time, didn't have the experience to see through.

Gojo had tried to warn him, year after year.

But he was young--his disdain for Gojo was five thousand times more intense than it is now--so Nanami treated everything that fell from Gojo's lips as a ploy to annoy anyway. 

Nanami remained oblivious to her behavior, caught in the haze of young love, until their final year of college.

That haze had gradually become easier to sift through. The complaints from his friends finally began to register in his mind. Then, one day between classes, a significant moment allowed him to finally blink away the fog.

Every action that he had once dismissed, enticed by the flutter of her lashes and the touch of her lips, rose to the surface from an ocean of naivety--loud and unfiltered.

He despised himself for having to come to the painful realization that Gojo had been right all along. 

Nanami allowed Gojo to mock him for a week before reverting to his habit of telling him to shut up unless he had something meaningful to contribute to their conversations. 

Despite feeling embarrassed and heartbroken, he cut ties--clean and simple--moved on with his life, and never heard from her again.

Until now, that is, as she is currently in Nakameguro for a project to market her wine enterprise. She specifically chose his company to assist in expanding her business in the Japanese market, and he despises every minute of it. 

Pia clearly wants to make up for lost time because she goes to great lengths to be close to him. 

She has a habit of discreetly slipping into the elevator just before it closes, coincidentally finding herself alone with Nanami every time. With a simple smile and a polite greeting, she faces the front and they ride in silence, but with every encounter, she subtly edges closer and closer to him. 

Like clockwork, without fail, she makes a point to peek into his office every morning, disregarding his attempt to keep the door closed. She greets him, extends an invitation to lunch—an invitation he consistently declines—and continues with her day. 

Being a recluse by nature, he rarely leaves his office except for coffee runs to the breakroom or when Yuji relentlessly calls for his presence. But with Pia’s presence, he can hardly focus when she’s around. He refuses to engage in conversation or give her an opening to pursue him romantically. Because he knows she will. So now he makes Yuji come to him and will bring his own coffee from home. 

He chooses not to confide in you about his struggles.

You had only met her once, but it was more than enough. Because to you, Pia is overwhelmingly beautiful, with a well-traveled life and wealth. You are an amateur ceramic artist with modest savings, a mother that you can’t stand, and a body that had recently been stretched and marked by childbirth.

You thought Kento deserved better—deserved someone like Pia. 

You were grappling with the overwhelming responsibilities of taking care of Ulani, trying your best to navigate through postpartum depression in a healthy way, and coming to terms with a body that seemed alien to you.

So the sight of Pia for the first time, radiant and flaunting a badge of honor for dating Nanami, did nothing but throw you into a deep pit of insecurity.

Kento lifted you out of that dark place, demonstrated to you again—without fail—how devoted he was to you then and always.

He made it abundantly clear that he was yours. 

He’s determined to never make you feel unsure of yourself again. 

So it's not a big deal. She’s just a nuisance that he has to dodge for the next week. 

Just another week until she goes back to Italy where she—hopefully—will never return.

What’s the worst that can happen?

It turns out, a lot.

He tries to stay one step ahead, deliberately exchanging a brief greeting with her in the lobby to prevent her from slithering into his office. He even waits until the office is deserted, and the day is nearly over before stepping into the elevator. 

He doesn’t know how he got out scot-free, but Friday rolls around and he thinks that he just might pull this off.

But Yaga chooses today of all days to ask Nanami to stay behind to consolidate a few contracts that only Nanami—unfortunately—has access to. In normal circumstances, Nanami would decline and suggest pushing it off until Monday.

It’s even more unfortunate because he has plans tonight. He wants to help you make dinner and spend time with his daughter and he shouldn’t even have to think about excuses because he hates overtime. But, the consolidation is due Monday, and he wants to get it done now so that he can avoid the hassle later on.

You don’t sound upset when he calls you to break the news. Your usually calm voice is slightly downcast with a gentle sigh that you think he can’t hear.

“I guess it’s rare so I shouldn’t be mad but,” you complain weakly, your words tinged with a slight whine that makes Nanami smirk to himself. “I made Katsudon.” 

He groans, mouth instantly watering at the mere thought. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, my love. I promise.” 

You grumble a reply that makes him chuckle, a tender sound resonating deep in his chest as he listens to you tell him that you love him before hanging up the phone.

***

It’s seven o’clock and he’s fighting a migraine. But he’s almost done, and he’s determined to finish the last stack of contracts that require organizing before he can make his way home to you and Ulani.

As he pens his signature on the bottom of one contract, there’s a knock on his office door, prompting him to invite them in—assuming it’s merely the janitor since everyone else on the floor left hours ago. 

That’s all he thinks to himself; he focuses his attention on yet another clause, preparing to initial his name on the side when everything comes to a screeching halt. 

Because standing before him isn’t the janitor—it’s Pia.

Pia, clad in a tight black dress that not only defies workplace etiquette but also starkly contrasts the one she wore earlier in the day.  

Earlier that day, he followed her every movement as she got into her car and drove away, silently relieved that he could finally relax. Yet, here she is; her dark brown wavy hair hanging over her shoulder in a manner far too seductive for his comfort, and black heels clutched in her hands instead of adorning her feet.

It takes him only a second to assess how quickly he can maneuver past her without a word. He will take the steps if he has to, or maybe he can grab the remaining contracts and finish the rest at home and—

“Gojo always mentions how you never stay late anymore, so I’m surprised to see you here,” she purrs, her Italian accent grating against his ears, exacerbating his throbbing migraine behind his eyes. Her lust-filled, indecent intentions taint her dark brown eyes, reinforcing the strong urge within him to leave, quickly. 

He’s not the type of man to belittle a woman’s appearance because they all possess their own beauty. His mother hammered that among other things about the respect of women deep into his skull before he hit puberty. But he’s well-mannered enough to acknowledge beauty and let the line be drawn there—because other women aren’t you, and he doesn’t have a wandering eye. 

He never has and he never will.

“Is there a reason why you are here, Pia?” he questions, discreetly binding the stack of contracts together so he can swiftly grab them along with his blazer and push her out of the way if he has to. “Your project finished at the end of the business day, so I assumed you would be on your way back to Italy.”

She scoffs a deep and guttural noise that makes Nanami’s stomach twirl in distaste and intensifies the pounding behind his eyes. “You know exactly why I’m here, Kento. Don’t be dull. You never were back then, and you aren’t now.”

His stomach churns, the knots tightening with each passing moment between them. The tension becomes unbearable, culminating in a swift rise from his seat as he retrieves his blazer behind his large, deep red chair.

“You need to leave,” he demands, his voice devoid of the polite courtesy he had extended to her during her visit. He tucks the contracts beneath an arm, grabs his car keys, and makes for the door—but she’s quick to sidestep so her frame blocks his path. 

Irritation surges within him, an emotion that others—excluding you—are keen to elicit when they begin to waste his time. 

“Pia, please move out of the way so that I can go home.”

She arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow, adding to the torment coursing through his stomach. “So you’re saying you don’t even want to talk? It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, and you’ve done nothing but avoid me during my entire stay.” Her whiny, petulant tone and childlike frown only serve to trigger flashbacks to times when she didn’t get her way, intensifying the deep divide that caused their separation.

“And you don’t understand the reason why?” he retorts, irritation heavier and thick in his mouth. A frown etches itself onto his lips, and his patience dissipates in the tense air encircling them. 

A noise in the lobby—a noise that implies someone can be listening—makes his heart stammer in his chest and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

While she has an agenda, he does not. He refuses to allow others to lose respect for him in this office, thinking he indulges in infidelity during his free time when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He couldn’t care less about others’ opinions, except when it involves you and your relationship—that’s where he draws the line. 

Unaffected by his sarcastic remark, she delicately places a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. He’s quick to react, catching her wrist in a way that makes his blazer fall to the floor, pulling her hand away from him as his body begins to shake in frustration.

 “I don’t know where you’ve gotten the impression that I want anything with you, but I won’t be entertaining it. What we had was a long time ago and it won’t ever be reignited again. Try your best to understand that,” he states firmly.

“But—” she begins to protest.

“Enough, Pia. Leave. Now.” 

He isn’t asking nicely anymore, his head pounding, and the decision to simply push her out of the way is made. Just as he prepares to do so, the door swings open, and the person he longs to see the most but also wishes wasn’t here right now, rushes in.

“Ken, I thought I could bring you dinner and—” you stop mid-sentence, words wedged in your throat as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re holding a Tupperware container, the steam inside condensing along the edges.

Nanami with papers under one arm and the other dropping from a delicate wrist to flop down at his side, his hair disheveled from hours of musing, his face clearly disturbed. And Pia, beautiful and ethereal as usual as she whips around to look at you. 

Since that first day you met her, you haven’t encountered Pia again. And Kento’s unwavering loyalty and trust have provided no reason to entertain the thought of her. 

However, Nanami’s stiff stature, Pia’s tight dress that reveals a bit too much in the front, and the stiletto heels swinging from her finger in one hand make it abundantly clear to you why she is here. 

At seven o’clock at night.

With no one else around.

You want to shy away from the implication, to fend off your surprise with a shy chuckle, and let the poisonous current of insecurity draw you away like that time before. But Nanami had skillfully put those doubts to rest weeks ago. 

Now you’re just irritated.

“Pia? What are you doing here?” You keep your tone light, masking the annoyance bubbling inside you. Pia’s earlier sultry gaze has vanished, replaced by widened eyes and hands smoothing her already unwrinkled dress, anxiously. “Kento told me the project ended a few hours ago. Aren’t you flying back to Italy soon?”

She fumbles, her rose-tinted lips curling as she searches for something to say, gripping her heels tighter in her hand. It’s reminiscent of watching a child scrambling for an excuse after being caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

Nanami remains silent, astonished. In the past, any other woman daring to breathe his air while Pia was present would have been met with scathing words and threats. But now, that Pia is desperately trying to produce an excuse for her late presence within a workplace when she she should be on a flight home.

“She was just leaving, love,” Nanami interjects, trying his best to make the situation as simple as it can be. Pia agrees, blushing and nodding, hastily slipping her heels back on with hands seemingly covered in sweat.

Watching her struggle to secure her heels, her fingers slipping on the buckle, reignites a surge of confidence deep within you. The once persistent insecurity in her presence now feels like a mere joke. In this moment, she becomes the joke. 

And you want to savor every minute of it.

The next words spill from your mouth, impossible to contain. You wiggle the small Tupperware container in your hands, gesturing towards her and offering a shy but satisfied smile.

“I was just bringing my husband dinner,” you chuckle airily, the lie slipping from your lips with ease. You relish the reaction from them both. Pia’s hands slip on her heel strap, causing her to stumble. Nanami struggles to contain his composure, eyes wide as saucers, his breath caught in his throat as your words ring in his ears like a piercing siren.

“Kento is the only one on this floor, it’s awfully late and I doubt you would have left earlier without saying goodbye. Surely you—” you pause, pretending to be taken aback before leveling an accusatory gaze at her. She looks up from her hunched position, hands still fumbling with the straps of her heels, her eyes wide and beautifully tan skin appearing pale. You’re not one for pettiness, but the delight from the sight of her struggling courses through your veins. “Surely you’re not here with the intention to do something else, are you?” 

“No!” she quickly retorts, her voice both loud and tinged with a hint of nervousness that makes the corner of your lip twitch. “No of course not—”

“So what are you doing here?” you cut her off with a narrowing of your eyes, repeating your question from earlier with a touch less feigned innocence, your tone slightly more serious and impatient. 

“L-leaving actually! Just wanted to say goodbye to Kento before my flight in the morning,” she stammers, now standing three inches taller, maintaining an air of elegance and grace even as her embarrassment paints her cheeks red.

She hastily bids Nanami farewell—a choked and tight goodbye—, a lopsided and anxious smile directed at you, and stumbles once more as she hurriedly exits the room, a snort of amusement escaping your lips as she trips before disappearing from your sight.

You close the door behind her, shutting away her presence for good.

The room falls into silence, Nanami’s face turning a vibrant shade of red that forces you to suppress your laughter with every ounce of effort you can muster.

“Love, I can explain—,” he begins, but you promptly cut him off, a giggle escaping despite your best attempts to hold it back. 

You know he would never do anything. Nanami would probably take infinite shifts of overtime instead of letting a woman who was not you touch him. In fact, you heard the entire conversation before you rushed in, and it makes your heart flutter with love that is already overflowing for him. 

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles.

But it’s so funny to watch him squirm, his face burning even more and his movements awkward as he clutches the bundle of disheveled contracts in his hand. His expressions of frustration and his furrowed brow only serve to ignite a warmth in your stomach. 

You love to tease him. And now you’ve been given the perfect opportunity to make him sweat.

“There’s no need to explain, Ken. I’m just messing with you,” you reassure him, taking his free hand and gently pulling him back to his desk. Turning to face his still-nervous figure, you retrieve the papers from his grasp and place them neatly on his large mahogany desk. 

“I heard the entire conversation. I am curious though,” you begin, pressing him down into his chair. He’s silent as he watches you push the chair back a little, so you have room to stand between him and his desk. “What do you think she would have done if I hadn’t come in time?”

“Absolutely nothing because I don’t—” he starts, but his words are abruptly cut off by the touch of your hand gliding against the fabric of his chest. Unlike Pia’s touch, your fingertips radiate heat and beckon him in a way that has his cock twitching in his slacks. His heart skips a beat as he watches your own manicured nails circle the buttons of his dress shirt before undoing them quickly. “We can’t—”

“Why?” you interrupt, your voice low and hot, instantly drying up his throat. Your fingertips dance along the exposed skin of his chest, gently teasing him as your nail flicks against a pink nipple before trailing down between the contours of his abs. You tap your fingers along the downy hair that trails under his slack and his stomach bunches in response, twitching from the stimulation, his heart skipping and his throat tightening slowly. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t. God, he doesn’t, and the words ‘no’ are out of his mouth before he can stop them, giving you his consent even though he’s embarrassed out of his mind. His migraine becomes an insignificant thought, the pulsing from earlier falling into a slow ebb, eclipsed by the escalating desire coursing through his veins. 

Nanami has never been the type of man to do this sort of thing. While he likes to be inside you anytime he can, he cherishes the privacy that safeguards both himself and you, more. 

But he can’t lie to himself that the thought of something happening in this office with you hasn’t crossed his mind multiple times—especially when you used to work together.

The sound of you undoing his belt buckle has his heart racing, thumping loud and heavy in his chest and his face is on fire as he watches you release him from the confines of his pants, his cock already hard and leaking. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and finding it difficult to contain your own desire from the sight of him. The area between your legs throbs as you trace your eyes down a cock that you’re intimately familiar with. Warm and achingly heavy, leaking with anticipation and pleading for your touch. His abs tense with a sharp intake of breath as you wrap your hand around him, a pleasurable hiss escaping his throat as he watches you stroke him languidly. 

You press your free hand into the arm of his chair, leaning in until your lips are mere inches apart. Inhaling his ragged breaths, you admire the way his deep brown eyes blow out, leaving only a ring of burnt umber for you to gaze into. 

Your grip on him has his mind foggy, desire overtaking any rational thoughts that he would normally use right about now. 

But you’re so good. 

You’re curling your wrist with every upward stroke just the way he loves and his abs bunch with every jolt of pleasure that zips inside of him.

He has to touch you, has to get his hands on you in some way to ground himself, and he instinctively reaches out for you when suddenly you tsk, pulling back slightly to create more distance between your lips.

“No touching.”

Oh.

You never deny him when you’re both like this. You always want his hands on you. The fact that you’re now denying him, gazing at him with a dangerous look in your eyes, shocks him. And it arouses him to a degree that makes him choke on a breath. 

He sags back into his chair, gasping for breath when your hands trail down to cup his balls. He digs his fingers into the chair’s armrests, scratching red leather, and he’s desperate to keep himself from cumming too soon.

“Did you—did you lock the door?” he manages to gasp, grasping onto any shred of coherent thought he has left.

You tilt your head in confusion, gaze at him with an indifferent stare, and then shrug nonchalantly before sagging down to your knees in front of him. The sight makes his toes curl in his expensive Chukka boots.

The rational part of his mind urges him to get up and check the door. Just get up and make sure the door is at least locked before anything else—but then his thoughts are short-circuiting and stuttering as your tongue slides wet up his shaft and you swallow him down to the base without a care in the world.

The back of his head slams against the cushioned chair as a surge of pleasure courses through his veins. You’re wet and sloppy, teasing him with your gaze as your mouth stretches from the thickness of him—and he’s struggling to hold on, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay even though it’s right there.

He tries to reach for you—tries to card his hands through your hair but you smack it away and glare at him with such a ferocity that he’s embarrassed for even attempting. 

Marketing templates. Morning traffic. A cold cup of coffee. 

He thinks of everything he can to resist the warmth in his stomach and the coil tightening along his spine; because you suck his cock in a way that makes him fidget in his chair, humming and gurgling into his ears in a wicked melody that’s making him go insane.

You’re enjoying every second of this and it only makes him blush harder with just how exposed he is to you right now. The mere weight of his cock in your mouth and the slightly salty taste of him makes your panties damp, your cunt pulsating and aching to be filled. 

And you’ll make sure it happens.

So you patiently wait until he’s panting harshly, his grip on the arm of his chair growing tighter and tighter. You wait until that crazed look dances in his eyes—the one you’re so familiar with right before he cums. And right when he’s on the cusp, you pull away. 

He exhales hard and sinks into his chair almost in relief as the band inside of him relaxes slightly, desperately trying to catch his breath and hissing as the cold air of his office wraps around his wet cock.

“Pia really did have a plan, didn’t she?” you playfully tease, standing to card your fingers through his blonde locks. Your fingertips glide across the faint traces of sweat, your hand moving along with the shake of his head in response to you, his gaze unfocused.

You kick off your shoes, hook your thumbs into the corner of your leggings, and slide them down and off your legs—his eyes following every inch of creamy brown skin that is revealed to him. 

You’re wearing an oversized sweater, a soft cashmere that he got you simply because he wanted, and it now covers your faint stretch-marked thighs. They are your battle scars, your own reminders of the journey your body underwent to grow and birthed the beautiful daughter you both have now.

His breath falters as he watches you gracefully perch on his large desk, placing your legs on top and bending your knees so your fuzzy sock-covered feet press against the rich mahogany. Leaning back on one arm, you effortlessly open your legs for him. His naturally narrow eyes widen at the sight of your white damp panties, and he longs to lick, suck, and slide his cock inside the very place they conceal.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous and taunting, delighting in the way he struggles to stay seated even as you slide one of your hands down into your panties.

“Can I—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“No.” 

You leave no room for argument and don’t offer anything else as you begin to circle your clit leisurely, arching into the touch as echoes of pleasure hum to life. It’s not long before you’re pushing your panties to the side to expose yourself to the open air. Your cunt throbs with desire when you hear Nanami groan softly under his breath. 

You’ve never been this bold, never entertained the thought of anything voyeuristic. But Nanami seems to awaken something within you, something you’re slowly embracing. He’s so shy about sex outside of the privacy of your home, and it only makes this more exciting that he’s even entertaining it now.

“Did she do this with you?” you ask him, your voice breathless as you sink two fingers into your wet cunt. The corner of Nanami’s eye twitches from the sight and you swallow down a giggle that threatens to escape. “Did she ever make you watch her while she touched herself?” 

You moan softly as you curl your fingers up as best as you can from your angle. Nanami’s fingers dig into the leather of his chair with barely contained restraint. 

“Answer me, Kento.”

“No. She didn’t.”

Satisfied with his answer, a sense of pride flaps in your chest, and you gleefully continue fingering yourself in front of him. It always takes you a while to get off with your fingers, so you use that as ammunition to watch Nanami squirm. 

You watch the way his exposed muscular pectorals move with his increasing breaths. You watch the way his cock twitches, hot and heavy against his stomach, leaking precum onto his abs. And you soak up the way he traces his eyes along every inch of you, leaving nothing without his attention.

When you finally cum, sharp and abrupt, he’s hanging on by a thread—ready to abandon your command to be still, yank you to him, and sink inside. 

He watches your cunt flutter around your fingers as you slowly come down from your high, gasping like an angel into the office air. Breathless, you stand on shaky legs and move to stand before him, lifting slick-covered fingers to his mouth which he readily opens without command, desperate to taste you any time he can. He groans softly against your fingers, eyes drooping, tongue sliding wet between your digits. The sight makes your cunt throb weakly, faint embers that had just died down, licking to life again.

You taste like everything to him, everything he wants and everything he needs.

But it’s not on the menu tonight.

You straddle his lap wordlessly and smack his hands away when he tries to wrap large hands around your waist. He swallows his frustration, yearning to touch you, yet willing to comply for the promise of more.

Using the remnants of your arousal between your legs, you coat him, stroking him enough to make sure you take him effortlessly, and then you guide him to your entrance and sink down to the hilt. The feel of him inside you is glorious, stretching you in the way you like that makes your cunt tremble to life around him, grateful for his presence once again. 

“Fuck,” he hisses—chokes with eyes squeezed shut, hand gripping the chair until it groans. You’re so wet, so fucking warm and tight that he’s shaking--practically trembling and swallowing a whimper as he fights the urge to grab your hips.

You didn’t need much to get used to him. You’re a masochist when he stretches you—you crave the way your cunt tenses from the intrusion, gripping him like a vice.

You’re a champ, enveloping him and giving him little time to acclimate before you’re bouncing on his cock with a finesse that would make any woman jealous.

You slide both hands into the hair at his nape and pull so that he cranes his neck back to gaze up at you. He’s slack-jawed, panting with breaths that tickle your lips, his eyes heavy with desire. 

“Did she ever fuck you like this, hmm? Come into your office when you would work long hours and ride you until you couldn’t see straight?” 

He can only shake his head ‘no’ in response, his throat too dry to speak, his lungs burning. He craves your touch, your lips on him, something to anchor him as he struggles to keep up. It’s the only way he can stay sane when the neurons in his brain are frying by the second. He begs wordlessly, groans deeply up into your mouth, pleading for anything.

And thankfully, you grant him a searing kiss. Your lips mold against his, tongues battling for dominance that he willingly surrenders to. His every thrust hits that perfect spot within you, brushing away hints of oversensitivity and bringing forth faint pleasure that makes you dig your hands into blond tresses and pull tight.

The pleasure caresses the insides of your thighs and tightens the muscles of your legs. Every brush of your clit against the skin of his abs shoots electricity throughout your cunt and up to the base of your spine, igniting a simmering fire that begins to heat deep pools of lava that reside there.

You pull away from his lips with a harsh moan, gasping into the warm air of his office, riding him harder to the point that the legs of his chair begin to squeak.

He knows you well. He knows how you get demanding and delirious and incoherent when you ride him, and he loves to count the seconds until that switch in your brain goes off. And it’s not even a second later when—

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So, so good,” you moan against the skin of his lips. “Fucking me just the way I like Ken.”

He watches every move you make, tracing his eyes over the contours of your face and the way your loose curls cling to creamy brown cheeks.

His eyes roll when he picks up your whispered chants. You’re a woman possessed and you take what you want—when you want. And he gives and gives with every yes, yes, more Ken, you’re so good, please, please, please yes!

Your pupils are blown and glazed over with desire, but suddenly your brows furrow in frustration. 

“She walked in here in a tight dress and high heels looking to get you in the same position that I have you now. But at the end of the day, you’re mine.”

There’s not an ounce of coyness in your words. You’re so serious, firm, and unyielding that it makes him shudder, a groan sliding from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and—

“Look at me,” you command, voice low, panting from exertion and the feel of your body beginning to draw tight with embers of a powerful orgasm. His eyes roll back without hesitation, locking with yours. “Unless—unless some other circumstance tears us apart, you—you are mine. Pia can have all the money and fame, but she will never have you. I do.”

“Yes,” he whispers, the word tumbling from his lips without faltering. His hips struggle to keep up and his thighs begin to stiffen as pleasure begins to curl deliciously so that his hands dig into the chair. His fingers slip against the leather, sweaty and tingling.

“You’re the father of my child.”

“Yes,” he chants again, breathless and quivering as the rubber band along his spine grows taught, stretching and shaking from the tension.

“You sleep next to me. You kiss me. You fuck me.”

“Yes, only you—only you.”

You tremble from his words, satisfaction oozing like hot thick globs along your skin. “That’s right, Kento,” you purr as your hips begin to roll against him, your clit carrying currents of pleasure through your veins, that pool of lava at the base of your spine boiling and rising to the brim.

“Please,” he whispers, his plea pulling you from your desire-induced haze. You look down at him, admire the flush of his cheeks, the warmth of his breath against the collarbone of your sweater, the sweat that beads along his hairline. “Please.”

“Please what?” you tease, trying to maintain a playful demeanor even though your hips are beginning to ache from overuse. You come to a stop on top of him, your breaths mingling together.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, always gentle and caring, even when he’s bursting from the seams. You love him so fucking much.

“Will you make me cum?”

“Always,” he responds without hesitation, his words filled with conviction. You lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the affection he willingly gives you. When you pull away, you brush thick blonde locks from his forehead, exposing more of his sharp features that will never fail to make your heart race.

“Then touch me, Ken,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

Without wasting a moment, he swiftly lifts you in his arms, his cock still nestled inside as he carries you towards his desk.

Your breath catches as you stare up at him, the sound of papers scattering to the floor filling the air. He pulls your sweater up, revealing every inch of your faintly stretch-marked belly, before tugging down a cup of your bra, heady eyes watching as one of your breasts spills from its confines. 

He’s too fast. You fumble for words and let out a surprised yelp when he yanks your waist toward the edge of the desk. He presses your knees as close to your chest as you will allow, and then he slams into you once—and then twice before picking up a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

He devours you, tongue flicking and swirling wet and dripping around your exposed nipple as he pounds into you unabashedly, the desk squeaking and groaning from his efforts.

All bravado that you had earlier splinters away with each smack of his muscular hips against you, the skin of his abs brushing against your clit deliciously, coaxing moan after moan from your lips. His tongue flicks your nipple again before he bites the hardened bud, and your cunt flutters—clenches around him, your thighs beginning to twitch even though they’re pressed to your chest.

“I’m all yours. Always yours,” he whispers against your lips, blonde tresses gliding against your cheeks.

You hope there’s no one on this floor, or that no one has decided to come back for something because the last thing they need to hear is Nanami Kento, Director of Strategic Partnerships, railing his girlfriend on his over-priced, too-large mahogany desk.

You can barely breathe, your moans growing in pitch, the sound of skin on skin echoing through his office, your hands sliding up to dig fingers into the skin of his back. You don’t even have the chance to tell him you’re close. 

The stroke of him inside you, the slap of his skin against your bundle of nerves, and the feel of his mouth trailing along the sweaty column of your neck with a deep and heavy cum for me baby breaks the seal inside of you.

The lava boils over—pools along your bones, hot and delicious and caressing every nerve ending within you, your cunt squeezing him without remorse. You can’t help the loud moan that shakes from your lips, growing in pitch when the pleasure seems to spike and overheat you in oversensitivity, your entire body tingling and shaking like an exposed nerve.

Nanami takes every ounce of pleasure you offer. Everything, every part of you is precious—treasured in a way that no one else will ever be able to comprehend. He takes every breath, every hitch in your throat, every droplet of sweat on your skin, every whimper and moan and scratch of your nails against him. He savors it all—needs it to survive, to know that you have chosen him, that you want him, that you love him.

You’re the only woman who makes Pia tremble and stumble over her words. You are a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that the moment you snapped at him when you first met. You’re fierce in the way you love, strong with the words you say, and so fucking beautiful that he cant help but feel proud of just how threatened Pia was by the sight of you.

Those words you spoke confidently to her have played like a record in his head since you forced him into his chair.

“I was just bringing my husband some dinner.”

My husband.

My husband.

He’s thought about it, so many fucking times. And he swears it will happen. Soon.

One day you’ll be his wife.

His wife.

His wife.

His thoughts come to a sudden halt because he’s cumming, catching him off guard, that rubber band snapping in half, pleasure yanking from the base of his spine and pulling a harsh groan from his chest as he spills inside of you.

His hands slip from behind your knees and smack onto the wood of his desk and you wrap your legs around his waist as you both regain your breath. He’s putty against you, melted and loose and molding against every crevice of you as he takes in your intoxicating scent. Lilac from your body wash, shea butter from your lotion, and a hint of cooking grease that wafted onto your skin when you made dinner.

Your fingers lovingly comb through his sweaty hair, your legs blissfully achy, your cunt satisfied and throbbing, and your heart coming to normal sinus rhythm in your chest.

“Ome is probably wondering where I am,” you finally speak, breaking the tranquil silence of his office. “She offered to watch Ulani when I left.” Nanami hums against you, a low and gravelly sound that’s typical of him when he’s ready to go to sleep. “Bring the rest of the contracts home. No more overtime.”

As if he would even entertain the thought of being in this office a moment longer. “Okay,” he agrees, pressing his lips to your neck. He still has his arms around you, still connected to you despite having softened inside you minutes ago. 

But you don’t mind. You cherish these moments with him, holding them dear in your heart, knowing that each one is a gift.

Because you’re the only one who can revel in the way he needs you, the way he craves having his hands on you, the way he murmurs his adoration into your skin. And you love every bit of it. You love him.

“Will she be back?” you ask, a hint of hesitance in your tone.

He shakes his head, groaning softly as you scratch that spot behind his ear. “No. Never.”

“She better not,” you jest, an eyebrow lifting to the ceiling, gazing at no one. “If she pulls shit like that again, there won’t be a happy ending for you.”

He barks out a laugh against your neck, lifting his head to take in your blissed-out form. Fatigue weighs heavy on your eyes, your lashes delicately curled, your hair spread out on his desk to make you look like the most otherworldly thing he has—will ever see. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

He kisses you tenderly once and then twice, before resting his head against your chest, the soft cashmere of your sweater caressing his cheek. His eyes catch something on the corner of his desk.

The Tupperware of food that you brought still emits steam, a homemade Katsudon by your hands, just for him.

His heart thrums in his chest, full and filled with warmth.

His wife.

Soon.

Thanks for reading!

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

[izuhan]

what would he call you? ︱stray kids

pairing: boyfried!skz x gn!reader ︱ genre: fluff ︱warning: may contain grammar mistakes, not proofread, seungmin give me a chance

a/n: a small one ive kept for a long time heheh (an excuse to write my brainrot minho saying darling n being called seungmin's the love of his life) tysm again for all the kind words!! i wont shut up about it ily yall so much and seungmin, please give me a chance. I'm suffering I love them so much I can't my heart hurts help

⸝⸝bang chan♡ᵎ

— he would call you many things to tease you, upon your behavior, the way you make him crazy, the way you look which made him fall in love all over again.

— however, my/love, baby, darling, sometimes dearest, would have that lovely taste left in his mouth, tongue rolling smoothly on those endearments that has you both flushing with embarrassment.

— the first time he called you “baby” was after you two started dating, he had to capture you before you could run away from him and suffer alone, let your heart swell with happiness. “please don't run away, don't you like it, baby?” 

⸝⸝lee know♡ᵎ

— everybody knows he’s a tease, much more than anyone could be, so, endearment for his lover isn’t out of the question, especially if he’s enamored of you. 

— though as much as he wants to keep such things to himself, he would blurt out–“Darling,” and question you after about it. His eyebrows would raise, debated between repeating himself and giving up.

— “is it the end of the world if i call you something? Chan calls you his tiny helper.”

— darling, babe, and cutie would stick to him the most because that's where he gets to see most of your reaction, whether making love or on a daily basis.

— love, would come around sometimes during heavy arguments or when he feels like his “love” needs to be addressed and cared for reaching for your folded arms when doubt comes in between, “the most i care for is you, love, i love you.”

⸝⸝changbin♡ᵎ

— he might have gone through plenty of nicknames to find the one he likes the most—baby, cutie-pie, honey, and angel would tickle his heart the most.

— angel and honey would be at the very top, simply because he thinks they're sweet and suits you.

— he's pretty confident with it too, whether you complain about it or not, they just remind him of you 

— would absolutely love to annoy you during moments he knew you need him most, specifically moments where he feels proud of you most, the ones he knew took most of your energy and knows a simple “my cutie angel, you did so well today~” accompanied with the warmest hug ever.

⸝⸝hyunjin♡ᵎ

— most likely he'd find and test endearments he'd found in the book that he read.

— “could it be that the blossom that fell in the palm of my hand, is this one that i love most?” he would say after he’s done flipping pages, loving eyes now laid upon and staring at yours while his hand cups your cheeks, 

— love, blossom, angel, and baby would be a good list because he has a lot, whenever he feels like it.

— though, I feel like love and angel would be at the top of his list too. main reasons are; he feels so loved and all giddy whenever you respond to him, call him the sweetest things back as he calls you “love” and he feels like he's holding a divine creature— an angel in disguise.

⸝⸝han♡ᵎ

— of course, “baby” would come out of his mouth a lot, however, experimenting with calling you different ones would ensue.

— he might feel frustrated trying so hard to find one that feels natural the same way “baby” does. It didn't matter whether you tell him it was alright to not call you anything else but what he can. Though he would likely sulk at that, since he’s been teased by others that baby is now outdated, he needs to call you differently. 

— and once he did find some, he might come to the point of too much embarrassment he would just bury his face in the crook of your neck, stuttering “l-love.” and “m-my y/n”. He’s holding for dear life he could cry and you’d respond to him by calling him that too, holding him gently since he’s too adorable for his own good.

⸝⸝felix♡ᵎ

— the one who's both self-conscious and too natural with it. he'd call you cute nicknames every single time you meet and save the special ones at home only.

— “My sunshine! You look so cute!” would be his go-to ‘let the others know I call you that all the time.’ nickname so whenever someone asks you, it would be “Hey, you're Felix's ‘sunshine’ or was it ‘darling’.. right?”

— at home, it would battle between baby, love, or baby love, and darling. you would react to it differently, which is what he expected so he'll be taking that as a win.

— exhibit a. He would come out of the shower, dripping wet from his hair, and walk towards your shared room where you would be seen drowning in one of his clothes. Felix would lean by the doorframe, whisking water in your direction, and say, “i have arrived darling, won't you come about and help me dry my hair?” and he would soon be defeated by the warmth of the blow dryer, “baby love, im sorry about… that, i have no idea what came into me.”

⸝⸝seungmin♡ᵎ

— he teases a lot too, calling you playful names to piss you off, or have you be a flustered tomato face and run away from him or remain still, processing what he had just called you.

— “what? would it kill you if I call you ‘the love of my life’?” surprised would be an understatement.

— he asks for you to others by that on purpose too— “hey, have you seen ‘my beloved’ y/n?” —just to see how much you hate or love it until it's something he would have to cut off to my/love, beloved, baby, and sweet thing.

— he would want to just play it off with a sprinkle of sincerity and curiosity before it turns into an undying habit, though, it does eventually. He would still deny it has now become that, rolling his eyes with a laugh, “does that guarantee my love for you or is it something mandatory for me to do in hopes of saving your hopeless heart?” 

(yes)

⸝⸝i.n♡ᵎ

— it would come off as a test—“Hey sweet thing, whatchu watchin'?”

— once he realizes that or reflects on it, he would sink in wherever he was, including your lap.

— “love is too much, I want to call you mine.”

— and again, he would melt, but tries again, “baby, turn it down.” all of them, failure or success could be the death of you, specifically when you notice he's trying to hide his blushing cheeks and smile by turning his back on you or with his hands.

— it wasn’t obvious in his past attempts, he would look away while you try to breathe. But one time “comfort me baby” came out of his mouth, both of you remained still, your cheeks beet red and Jeongin, his huge hands on his face as he let gravity do its thing when he fell on your body, letting out a very loud screech, “Innie, it’s o—” “no it’s not! I practiced!” and he will never leave your arms until he succeeds on satisfying himself with how it comes out of his mouth.

[marclvsf1]

A WHOLE LIFE // SEBASTIAN VETTEL

(English is not my first language, I apologize if there are any spelling mistakes)

(There will probably be more parts to this story)

You had met Sebastian when you were both still in high school, from the first moment you met thanks to a get together with some friends in common, something inside you knew that you were destined to be together, but you didn't tell him at that moment, you didn't want to sound like a freak, but what you didn't know is that he had also felt that connection inside him, and that since then there wasn't a moment when you were not in his thoughts.

You went more than two months without speaking to each other, both out of embarrassment, but still, you spent your days thinking about each other and giving each other sly glances whenever you met in the hallways. Or well, what you thought were disguised, since you both noticed when the other looked at you, even so, neither of you dared to take the first step yet.

At least not until the last day of school before the long-awaited summer vacation. You were talking with your friends by the front door, when a more than shy Sebastian approached where you were, or rather where you were, with a smile on his face which you reciprocated.

-Hello," he said once he was already in front of you.

-Hello- you mumbled in response, feeling the embarrassment come over you-

-I… humm… I was wondering if you could… pass me your number" he mumbled so low that you doubted if you had heard him correctly.

-What? you asked to make sure that you weren't getting your hopes up in vain, and that really that blond boy who had caught your attention since the first time you saw him, and who at that moment was in front of you, was asking for your number, to you, an ordinary girl, not that you had low self-esteem, but neither did he think you were prettier or better than the rest of the girls in the school, while the whole school was aware that Sebastian was one of the most attractive guys you could find there, and that thanks to his talent, his career as a professional pilot, his career was about to take off.

-If you could pass me your number," he repeated this time louder, but still with some embarrassment adorning his voice.

You did, of course you did, you'd be foolish to waste an opportunity like that, but of course you did it without hope that he would actually write you, or at least consider doing so. You still weren't capable of thinking that someone like him could notice someone like you.

But despite all the predictions you yourself had made, that same night you received a message from a number you had not registered, and when he confirmed it was him, for the first time you felt the butterflies in your stomach that you had been hearing about all your life, and that until then you didn't believe were real. You didn't believe that someone could make you feel so many things with just a simple message that before you might have considered insignificant, like a good night message, or a good morning message without reading it.

You spent days, weeks, months… and even almost a year talking by text or call practically day and night. And although your meetings were less and less frequent due to Sebastian's demanding and tight schedule, he always found a way to send you a message to make sure you were okay, or he looked for a moment to call you even if it was only for five minutes.

You were both aware of your feelings for each other, but it wasn't until July 4, 2006 at Signal Iduna Park, in the World Cup semi-final match between Italy and Germany, that you both decided to confess your feelings to each other, albeit involuntarily. When Germany managed to score the last goal of the match, and the one that assured you the pass to the final and while you were hugging each other, without knowing how, why, or who of the two had made the move, that from one moment to another your lips were united. But what you did know, was that at that moment nothing existed but the two of you, and that you were both clinging to each other wishing that moment would never end. Unfortunately it did, though, as you both needed to regain the oxygen you had been holding on to.

You had spent the whole trip back to the hotel in silence while both of you were lost in your thoughts, while one of your fingers were intertwined with each other, and although you both realized that, neither of you did anything to break that contact, no matter how small it was.

You were about to enter your hotel room after having said goodbye to Sebastian, when a tug on your arm made you turn quickly, and before you could realize it, those lips which you had only tasted once, but which you could recognize among many others, rested on yours in a soft kiss full of feelings.

And so you ended up, confessing to each other the feelings you both had been repressing for so long in the middle of a hotel hallway. And although it wasn't what most people would categorize as romantic, for you it was certainly a unique and special moment. And unknowingly you both went to bed with a smile on your face, and thinking about what your life would be like in the future, where you would live, how many children you would have….

A year later, Sebastian finally made the long awaited jump to Formula 1, and when he asked you to accompany him to a Grand Prix, you didn't hesitate to do it. You knew how important that moment was for him, and the fact that you accompanied him made it even more special.

Although you decided to watch it from his drivers' lounge. You had never liked to draw too much attention to yourself, and that wasn't going to change at that moment when it should be all about him. Maybe he didn't finish with the best possible result, but it was his first race, plus you said he had everything he needed to achieve everything he set out to do in the future, and you weren't lying, as time ended up proving you right.

Since then you had gone to a few more Grand Prix, because you always thought that the attention should be directed to the drivers, and not to their wives or girlfriends. And Sebastian understood that, as he had always argued that a banker didn't take his wife to work.

Three years later you ended up moving into the house in Switzerland that he himself had bought years earlier.

That same year he ended up winning his first world title, while becoming the youngest ever to do so, and you ended the day celebrating the triumphs in his room in a more intimate way, although that's a different story.

That same thing happened again for the next three years, but at some point in 2013 your celebrations got out of hand.

You distinctly remember the moment you found out you were pregnant. It's not like you and Sebastian had never talked about having kids before, but at that moment, but at that moment you couldn't help but be in shock. You had been finding yourself tired, hungry and morning sickness or some smells you used to love for days.

You took advantage of a day when Sebastian had gone for an early run to head to one of the nearby pharmacies and buy a pregnancy test, before returning home as quickly as possible and locking yourself in the bathroom of your room waiting for the test result. As you watched the two lines appear on it, a variety of different feelings invaded your body. On the one hand, you were happy to hold inside you the result of the love between you and Sebastian, but on the other hand, even though you knew that he could never do anything to you, you were afraid of your reaction. At that moment he was at the peak of his career, and he didn't want you to be the one to bring him down with a baby that neither of you had planned.

You pushed all the negative thoughts from your mind as the unruly tears that had escaped your eyes with the back of your hand, and headed back to your room so you could think about the best way to break the news to him.

Contrary to all of the negative thoughts that had been rattling around in your head for the last few since you found out you were pregnant, her reaction was everything you could have ever wished for, tears had started to involuntarily invade her eyes after you handed her the test you had taken days before, along with a little redbull racing suit, before he pounced on you before you joined your lips in one of the most passionate and soulful kisses you could remember in a long time since you had been together, and once you parted he spun around as he repeated over and over again that you had just made him the happiest man in the world.

And his words were not in vain, for he spent the next few months reading every possible book on parenting, and every time you both went to bed after a long day, he would tell you everything he had learned about babies that day. In addition, whenever you were alone or he was sure that no one was watching you, he would place your hand on your increasingly swollen abdomen, according to him, so that the baby would feel him and be able to recognize him once he was born.

The last three months of your pregnancy had gone by faster and had been more stressful than you could have ever imagined. Although you appreciated that they had been during the winter vacations.

Once you reached six months pregnant and found out you were expecting a baby girl, Sebastian couldn't have been more excited.

After the end of the 2013 season he took the first available flight to Switzerland, and ended up arriving home in the wee hours of the morning, while you were already sleeping peacefully in your bed, and he did not hesitate to join you, and you were not going to lie, waking up cuddled up to his body even when you were not expecting it, was one of the best feelings you could experience.

After a couple of days of rest in which you had practically not left the bed at your request, the good times were over, as Sebastian decided it was the right time to assemble all the furniture for the baby's room, something he had been postponing every time you asked him to do it.

By mid-January, to your relief or misfortune, your daughter had decided it was time to be born, and what better time to do it than to have your water break at 4:15 in the morning. You woke up feeling a warm liquid sliding between your legs, at first you thought it was the liquid you had been having such a hard time keeping in your bladder lately, but a few moments later you realized that it really wasn't, and that your daughter was ready to meet the outside world. You woke up Sebastian feeling how panic began to take over your emotions, and although at first he did not seem to want to wake up because it was too early, once you told him that his daughter was about to be born, sleep seemed to disappear from his body all at once, and it took him less than ten seconds to take you to the car with the bag you had prepared for when the time came.

After several hours of effort, pain and suffering while you were saying all kinds of insults to Sebastian, while squeezing his hand so hard that you could break it, Irma Vettel finally arrived in the world on January 12, 2014 at 9:45 in the morning. Even though you felt like you hadn't slept for weeks, you couldn't help but feel unconditional love for your daughter the first time you held her in your arms after she was cleaned. And just when you thought you couldn't feel any more love, the sight of your little creation in Sebastian's arms while he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen made you realize you were wrong.

A year and a half later the same procedure was repeated, but this time it was your second daughter, Elba, who decided to make herself known to the outside world on October 27, 2015. But it is said that all good things come to an end, and you were not going to be an exception. After having spent his golden years at RedBull, Sebastian decided to move to Ferrari, the team he had dreamed of since he was a child, and of course you supported him in his change. But not all dreams end up being as we imagine them in our heads. After a couple of good years in the team with your friend Kimi, he was replaced by the young Alfa Romeo driver, Charles Leclerc, whom the Italians had already nicknamed "il predestinato". And although at the beginning you had not had any problems and you had both welcomed him practically as your own son, the team ended up giving the ball to the side of the new driver, offering him all kinds of advantages over Sebastian, and although he pretended that the combined favoritism With the poor results he had obtained during the last races it did not affect him and he always appeared with a smile in the paddock, during all the years you had been together you had learned to read him, and you knew perfectly well that it affected him much more than he wanted to admit. , and seeing how the shine that so characterized his eyes faded little by little only confirmed it to you. You ended up with Sebastian leaning on your body on the bed while he cried and clung to your body like he was a little child because he couldn't feel good enough to be in a Ferrari, and at that moment all you wanted was to cum. with all the people who were making him feel insufficient due to a couple of bad results, but he knew that violence would not get you anywhere, so you dedicated yourself to comforting him and convincing him that he was more than enough and that all those people were the only thing that What they wanted was to hurt him, while a part of you broke seeing him like that.

But just as the good comes to an end, the bad also comes to an end, and in 2019, after 13 years together, you decided to get married in a small and private wedding where only your closest family members and most intimate friends attended within five months. Then your third child will arrive in the world, this time a boy whom you decided to call Ibar. The following year Sebastian decided to change teams again, this time to Aston Martin, a place where you could tell they really loved him and which made his eyes regain the shine that you had missed so much during your stay at Ferrari. You both enjoyed it during that stage, until 2 years later he announced that he would retire from the sport that had accompanied him for so many years, since his goal was to spend more time with his family and be able to see his children grow and help them when they asked him to. or they really needed it. And although you had told him that it was not necessary for him to retire if he really did not want to do so, the final decision was his, and deep down you were also happy with the fact that he was going to spend more time both with your children and with you, while he looked for other hobbies to entertain yourself. You could finally live as a normal family as far as possible.

[arlestial]

Hi! :D do you think you could do a fluff akira x reader or a soma x reader? either is fine and the plots up to you! ☺️

❝a little taste of heaven❞

synopsis : They had no clue they’d concentrate on something else than cooking by joining Tōtsuki Culinary Academy, but here you are..

pairing : Akira Hayama, Soma Yukihira x genderneutral!reader •— Food Wars

tw : None, simple fluff

word count : 2980~ words

author-note : The fact that I haven’t received any notification for this request.. and many others. I’m so, so sorry. I have like 8 requests in my ask box that I’ve never been aware of ? Thank you Tumblr 💀 I did both, in a sort of pitiful excuse 😭 Thank you for requesting, I hope you’re doing okay 💗 (first time writing for Food Wars I’m so excited !! Not proofread tho, sorry for the mistakes in advance !!) take care of yourself ♡

AKIRA HOYOMA has always been faithful to cooking. To Jun’s orders and advices. To people’s boundaries. He never crossed a line, always being focused. One day, as usual, he went into Erina’s office. His brows completly furrowed when he saw your form, fingertips grazing against the spines of the library old books. Who were you ? You weren't supposed to be here. Didn’t Hisako tell you that this office was private ? He opened his mouth to question you, but you turned to face him before he could even form words. His jaw tightened, fists clenching, but unfortunately, much to his own disbelief, no sound erupted from his mouth - and the sweet, polite smile adorning your face was nearly making him feel dizzy. Uneasy. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, so you broke the silence with a fake cough.

“Nice to meet you, uh..”, you said, in a weak attempt to get him to introduce himself. His piercing gaze was enough of an answer, and you gulped. “I’m looking for Erina, perhaps you’ve seen her ?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay”. You’re immediately confronted by a loud and weird silence again. He seemed.. rather friendly - ironically, of course. After some minutes, Erina walked into the office, raising two suspicious eyebrows at the, well, kind of cringe atmosphere of the room.

“Akira, what did you do to my guest ? Y/N, I’m sorry, did he make you uncomfortable by any chance ?”, she asked, walking towards your form.

“No, don’t worry. He’s nice,” you lied, teeth clenched together. You flashed her a bright smile, that Erina reciprocated fondly; she glared at Akira, fully aware of his cold demeanor, especially to strangers. His intimidating tendencies were definitely not working right now, especially not on Erina.

“I have some things to discuss with Y/N, Akira. Can you leave us alone for a moment ?”

“Yeah, right. Sorry.”

AKIRA HOYOMA quickly left the office, feeling a bit nauseous - he didn’t know why, but he had a weird feeling in his stomach, and he felt like his head was burning. He wandered in the corridors until he crossed Soma’s path. He smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he watched his white-haired rival with amusement.

“Wow, Akira. Are you sick ? You’ve never been this red.”

Akira tsk-ed, hurrying to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, completely taken-aback. He was, indeed, a bit red. Cheeks flushed, the tip of his ears were blazing, his breathe hitched at his own view; what was happening ? He was sure he was okay this morning. Perhaps it was you. He scoffed at the thought, washing his face with cold and refreshing water before leaving the bathroom. He never saw you before. Were you from here ? He found himself looking for you in the corridors all day, sighing at the end of the day when he realized he haven’t seen you. He was still embarrassed of the awkward silence that filled the room earlier - and he blamed himself for it. He should’ve been more welcoming.

AKIRA HOYOMA, 5 or 6 days after the incident, noticed strands of hair walking past him; they were looking similar to yours, so he turned around. You were walking alongside Hisako, laughing at one of her comments. Hisako looked at Akira and waved.

“Oh, hey ! I was searching for you. Erina needs my help, could you show Y/N the different classrooms in the other building ? I’m coming back as fast as I can !”

She didn’t let him answer as she walked away already. You sighed. It could’ve been anybody, but no, it was this guy. It wasn’t like you hated him - he was just straight-off rude.

“If you don’t want to, I don’t blame you. I can-”

“Come on, we don’t have all day.”, he added, cutting you off without even looking at you. You rolled your eyes, giving him a small smile, hoping it’ll help to ease the atmosphere. Spoiler alert, it didn’t.

The walk inside the cooking classes building was awfully quiet. Not a word was shared - except the little presentation he did of each room, his tone as cold as ice. You nearly shivered.

“Are you always this rude ?”, you asked with a sincere curiosity, "I mean. I’m not telling you to be the friendliest guy but..”

“I’m not rude.”

“You literally refused to give me your name earlier.”

“Akira Hoyoma. That’s all you need to know about me.”

And after this small interaction, Hisako came back. A small feeling of warm in his chest quickly regretted his lack of sympathy towards your person, and he felt like a douchebag for not even apologizing properly. He stopped in his tracks, opening his mouth to call you, but you were already gone with Hisako.

AKIRA HOYOMA was fully conscious of the “issue”. Time passed, and days after days, he grew more open to you. Not completely of course - but he was slowly accepting your presence in his group of "friends"; actually, enjoying a lot more your alone time together in class. He was secretly happy you two had been paired together. You tried to crack some jokes to make him laugh or at least, to make him smile, but it failed every single time. When you finally did it, a slight smile on his face and a “you’re the dumbest person I’ve ever seen in this school, I’m trying to concentrate, stop distracting me”, you beamed. He never saw a smile so radiant, so ethereal and yet so delicious to look at. A true bundle of sunshine at its finest. His cheeks heated up and he forthwithly focused on the plate you two were supposed to prepare. He would die to see this smile again - he wanted to be the reason you were smiling that way in the first place.

AKIRA HOYOMA was fully conscious of the situation. Time passed, and months after months, he grew more fond of you. So when he saw you eating one of Soma’s plates again, smiling at him with all your teeth and laughing at his antics - he was mad, as per say. His jaw tightened, fists clenching, but unfortunately, much to his own disbelief, no sound erupted from his mouth; it felt like the first time he ever saw you. A fiery and fervent emotion bubbling in his chest as he made his way to you. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you outside the kitchen, closing the door to have some “privacy” (in a empty corridor of Tōtsuki High, though). You were completely unfazed by his behavior usually, since you were used to his (sometimes) weird demeanor for the several months you two spent together as friends, but right now, his silence grew quieter, and you were worried. And for this only one time, he broke the stillness.

“You’re a distraction. I meant it. I’m hoping everyday to see you, to feel you near me. Is it out-of-place to say that ? You brought me a warmth that I never experienced - and I don’t want to let that go. Don’t eat this idiot’s food, you know you deserve well better than that. Let me show you how you should be treated, Y/N. Please. Let me show you how I feel about you.”

AKIRA HOYOMA’s words couldn’t describe the high spirits that invaded his heart when he realized you were wearing your signature warm smile, just for him. You took the hand that was grabbing your wrist in yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Here. Maybe you’re not as rude as I thought you were.”

SOMA YUKIHIRA tried to give you hints. But you weren’t getting it. Teasing you all the time, small compliments here and there, spending quality time with you. Unfortunately, you were always running away from him, a small pout on his lips as he chased after you. It wasn’t because of his awful mixes; when you two were together, in a somewhat romantic moment, and he was ready to confess to you, there was, no matter what, a disturbance. Whatever actually, a teacher coming in the classroom, Ikumi or Megumi; and you immediately backed off. He couldn’t help but sigh, his efforts ruined, but could he really blame you ? His yellowish eyes drowned so easily into yours, so he just smiled and bit back his disappointment, glaring at the disturbance with a vague hatred, that was rather scary, to be honest.

“Don’t chop it that way, it takes too much time.”

“Then show me, sir,”, you answered with a slight smirk, knife in your hand.

“Anything for you, ma’am.”

His devilish grin was addictive, really; you loved the small moments spent together in the classroom kitchen, but insecurity was always catching up with you, pulling you into abysses you prayed you'd never see again. Your worries faded away when you felt him behind you, caging you between his toned body and the kitchen countertop. His hands slided on top of yours, gently gesturing you how to cut the vegetables in a “more efficient way”; truly, it was an excuse to touch you. A comfortable silence filled the room, the sound of sliced and chopped foodstuffs echoing on the sunbathed walls. He kept his teasing to himself, deciding to enjoy this small moment of shared intimacy; he felt his head heating up at your warm breath fanning on his neck. He stopped his movements, locking eyes with you. The world seemed like it stopped itself; he leaned downwards to kiss you, his hands still on yours, your head turned to face his-

Until someone snapped him out of it. Erina opened the doors of the kitchen brutally without even knocking - he cursed under his breath, blaming her for this ruined opportunity to finally show you what he truly felt.

“Look who’s there. Giving lessons to average students, now, Yukihira ? I didn’t think you were into charity-stuff.”, Erina smirked, not even shooting you a glance. You backed off from Soma, already fed-up by her condescending behavior.

“Erina.. what a pleasure. Always coming in due course,” Soma answered with a forced smile, anger running through his veins.

“I was searching for you, actually, Yukihira. Well, not me, but Takumi was. He wants to have a contest with you again, and I’ll be the judge.”

“Uh. Sure. Can Y/N come too ? I-”

“It’s a private contest.”, she immediately urged to add, “Between the three of us. Now, come on, I have other things to attend to.”

Erina walked off, and Soma followed her with a sigh, giving you an apologizing, awkward chuckle. You knew better, but you just smiled, murmuring a small “good luck”, as you saw him leave.

Her little crush on Soma was unbelievable; you wanted to tear the stupid grin plastered on her features so bad. Technically, yes, you were jealous. She was always shattering his plates with critics, giving prideful advices, even if he didn’t need it. And he was still cooking for her, working all the goddamn time to satisfy her “god’s tongue” and her insatiable appetite. For him, ironically. And Soma was terribly clueless; not noticing her taking a liking in this little game. Or maybe he was not ? Maybe you were a second choice - and Erina was first. She was always first. You weren’t the type to envy others, but right now.. you sat down next to the window frame, staring at her proximity with Soma from afar. It was eating you alive; the abyss you were so afraid of was most likely, a warm embrace in comparison of your sinking heart.

SOMA YUKIHIRA felt that something was off. You were ignoring him like a plague, switching seats and changing class pairings. He knew he fucked up, but what did he do exactly ? Oh right. You were jealous. Because last time, he left you alone to join Erina and Takumi in a contest that he obviously won. Now, he was facing the cold-shoulder treatment, and his teasing wasn’t helping anymore. Yet, he’d still try to talk to you, but you were walking past him without a word; your eyes filled with sorrow. Or you were faking a smile, trying to make up an excuse and leaving. He wanted to beat himself up; because he was the one who put you in that state in the first place. It was his mistake, and he knew it. But why were you feeling that way ? He tried to talk about it to Takumi - he was a gentleman after all, he’d definitely know.

“You did what ?”

“I mean- I didn’t know it’d be an issue. I always did that and they never said anything about it.”

“Soma, are you seriously this dumb ? You’re leaving them to hang out with the Nakiri Erina and you’re seriously thinking that they won’t be insecure ?”

“Why would they be ? They’re literally the most beautiful and caring person ever. There’s nothing to envy in Erina.. Plus, I’m not hanging out with her. She’s the one who’s coming at the worst times.”, he stated, genuinely dumbfounded by his friend’s words. It was the truth, though; she interrupted you two when Soma was nearly kissing you.

“Soma. Think about it just for a moment- you told me you liked them, yeah ? And when you’re with them, and Erina walks in, you leave to follow her. They must think they’re a second choice or something. Please, you can’t be this oblivious.”

And then, he realized. Realizing the hints he gave you were nothing compared to his acts. His face in his hands as his elbows rested on the countertop, what should he do now ? Apologizing, yeah, but it wasn’t enough. He longed for your touch, and craved for your pardon. The next day, he searched for you in the Polar Star Dormitory, everywhere. When he finally spotted you, he opened the door of your bedroom without even asking. You yelped in surprise.

“What the hell ? Soma-”

“You’re the only one I want to be with. The one I want to dedicate my cooking to. I thought I made it clear. I’m sorry for my behavior. Erina is nothing for me, and she’s not even coming close to your ankle- look, I fucked up, I know. But I promise, you mean everything to me.”, he bluntly said, not giving you a second to breathe.

“And what are you gonna do the next time she’s gonna walk into us ? Hide me shamefully ? I-”

But he cut you off again, one hand stroking your cheek. He lifted your chin, in order to make you look at him.

“I’ll simply say that I’m taken by the prettiest and smartest person around. How does that sound ?”

He leaned, and this time, he wasn’t going to back off, with or without somebody walking in.

“Maybe I can show you who I’m talking of, baby,”

He smirked, your worries vanishing instantly in his yellow orbs. A kiss sounded good after all.

[takenbypeter]

It's me, hi! (Last one I promise)

But I was wondering if you could write about Wonka and reader watching a horror movie, and afterwards, as she would feel scared, him trying to make her feel better/safe by holding her, maybe singing to her..? It's just an adorable thought 🥹 thank you!

Movie Mistakes

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 638

You couldn’t believe you actually caved. 

Typically you would do anything and everything to avoid scary films, all because you knew how it would affect you. 

Some jump scares by themselves you could handle, but if added the suspense, tension, and music, you were a goner.

Now to be fair this particular movie was one you actually did want to see. You heard so many great things about it when it came out, but still you were in debate about actually watching it. As always though Willy had convinced you. 

As much as you tried to act like you weren’t phased by all the blood, jumps, and slightly horrific deaths throughout the film, you couldn’t help but flinch at each noise, eventually opting for the view from behind the cracks between your fingers. Willy on the other hand, seemed to be unbothered. 

In fact he was so engrossed by the film he didn’t even notice how tense you were. At least not until you were home.

Now Willy knew of your nature with scary movies just from what you’ve told him but by the way you were agreeing with all his thoughts and theories on the way back had him believing you were alright. It wasn’t until he left you to take a shower and then returned, finding you on the bed with your head and body completely enveloped in a quilt that he realized something was off.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a hint of laughter hidden in his voice. The question prompted you to shift underneath the cloth, still keeping it wrapped around your head.

“Huh?” He heard, muffled. 

Shaking his head he came over, picked up the quilt and stuck his head underneath finding you in the process. 

“Are you alright?”

“Oh me? Yeah I’m fine, just imagining a world where who knows what comes out from my closet and tries to strangle me in the worst possible way, but I’m fine, I’m good.”

Willy tilted his head clearly not believing your words and your promising boxed smile that was obviously forced. So again he lifted the quilt and climbed in while you moved over to make more room for him. 

“I thought you were okay.”

“I am, I'm just afraid to close my eyes, and I have to sleep with my head covered and my back to the wall.”

Willy reached out, his hand coming to rest against your face while his thumb ran over your cheek a couple times before he moved it downwards stopping on your shoulder, “if someone comes through those doors they’re going to have to get through me first,” he said. The idea was ultimately hilarious to you, being that Wonka didn’t have a harmful bone in his body, but it did help you in feeling a little bit better. 

“If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve never pushed for it,” he said and you shook your head. “I wanted to watch it. I went to see it. I’ll be fine.”

Willy glanced over your face, “what can I do to help?”

You bit the inside of your bottom lip for a quick second, maybe out of embarrassment, or probably just pure nerves but all you said was, “just stay with me tonight, please?”

It may seem like a such a simple request but for a chocolatier who sometimes got random bursts of ideas in the middle of the night, it would prove to be slightly more difficult. But still he agreed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

With that being said Willy opened his arms and you naturally crawled in. 

That night you slept well and it was all thanks to the warmth of Willy’s body around yours. That warmth plus the light humming coming from the boy quickly put both you and him sound asleep. 

[imaginethezeldaverse]

The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.