I wanna make it (so badly)
Art Donaldson x Fem Reader
Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).
Word Count: 5.8k
i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that
Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details
Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.
Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.
Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.
You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.
You were above average with a good arm and better patience.
Another odd job to add to your growing list.
You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.
Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.
The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.
You always did very well.
So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.
Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.
But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.
Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.
What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?
He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.
As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.
The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.
Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.
Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.
If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.
The woman that once held the world by the balls.
She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.
The Donaldson's.
Ah fuck.
Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.
"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"
You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.
There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.
You were no exception to the rule.
"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."
How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.
A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.
The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.
"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."
"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."
Oh, okay then.
You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.
Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.
Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.
You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.
You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.
As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.
"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."
She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.
You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.
Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.
As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.
And you knew he was watching you.
-
The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.
A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.
"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"
You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.
Felt good to be the winner.
Even just once.
In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."
You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.
It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.
It was even easier to believe she was just that good.
As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.
Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?
Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.
Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.
Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.
Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.
It was no surprise you dreamt of him.
-
The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.
Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.
You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.
Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.
"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."
Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-
The kid's running you ragged.
Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.
But you're sure there are eyes on your back.
Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).
Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.
You know you're about to earn your keep.
By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.
Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.
Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.
That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.
You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.
The Original Sin.
Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.
"It's nice to finally meet you."
You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."
He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.
It should've felt condescending. It didn't.
"How did she go out there?"
"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."
He laughed.
Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.
Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"
You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.
"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"
Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.
He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.
"Must've been distracted."
Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.
"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."
And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.
-
And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?
An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.
An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.
A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.
At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.
That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.
"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."
You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.
Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.
"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."
"Your elbow is too low."
It was a miracle you didn't scream.
Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.
Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.
"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"
"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"
"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."
Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.
Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.
It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.
It wasn't.
"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."
If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.
As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.
And Lily upon her trusty steed.
The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.
"Lily, go find grandma."
Then it really was just you two.
Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.
"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."
He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.
With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.
Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.
As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?
"Good girl."
There it was.
Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.
So, you should've moved.
Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.
You should've moved.
But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.
Obedient thing you seem to be.
"Show me that again?"
So,
You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.
Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.
A simple transactional arrangement.
Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.
Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.
A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.
You figure Art will take what he can get.
And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.
It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.
The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.
Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.
So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.
You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.
-
Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?
Chasing Lily around a court.
Adhering to Tashi's every request.
Being Art's fantasy.
Being Art's.
Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.
Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-
Winning?
He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.
Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.
Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.
Until, well- until they weren't.
"Would you like a coffee?"
Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.
He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.
Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.
"Yes please."
Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.
You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.
Had he always looked this captivating?
He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.
It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.
This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.
Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.
"Mr. Donaldson-"
"Art."
"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."
He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."
Naturally.
That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.
Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.
Maybe it was fate.
All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.
Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,
Yet.
One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.
It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.
A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.
"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"
"Actually, it's still Duncan."
You screamed.
Right in his face.
Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.
However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.
Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.
What a fucking sight.
Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.
You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.
It took all your strength to find your words.
"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”
“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”
There's the Tashi you were expecting.
Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.
Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.
Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.
"Why am I here?"
She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.
"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."
-
And he had, just like she'd said.
Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.
And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.
You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.
Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.
You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.
But the showerhead knew all about them.
Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.
How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.
It was no surprise you dreamt of him.
You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.
And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.
Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?
That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.
You loved it.
When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.
Tashi's car was gone.
"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."
At least you didn't scream this time.
You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.
"Oh, ok."
"I'll see you on the court."
Oh, ok.
Lest he see the disappointment that took over.
Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.
Tennis was fun too, you guess.
Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.
You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.
It never came.
Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.
The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.
This was going to hurt.
From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.
Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.
You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.
He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-
Like he was enjoying himself.
For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.
For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.
Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.
You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.
No hurry, but impending.
Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.
Now this was God's favourite.
"You can't be giving up this easily?"
Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"
Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.
Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.
This was more your speed.
The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.
Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.
Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.
"I didn't give up."
He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.
"Mmm, you didn't."
The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.
"Where's my prize?"
There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.
But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.
You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.
Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.
Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.
Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.
You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.
His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.
With everything he had.
Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.
Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.
You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.
Utterly devotional.
The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.
His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.
Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.
The style was calculated.
Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.
Playing a game.
Art struggled to do anything but win.
"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."
"Art."
Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.
You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.
It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.
You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.
"Tell me this feels good, please."
Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?
You might black out.
"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."
He whined.
A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.
Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.
The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.
He was going for gold.
A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.
You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.
Oh, ok.
Art Donaldson knew what he liked.
You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.
Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).
Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.
A deuce.
His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.
"Uh- I already have."
Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.
Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.
Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.
All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.
He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.
Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.
"I can't lose- you."
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NSFW links
Including :: Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Toge, Yuta.
warning :: everything sex.
note :: can you guess who my favs are? All characters are of age.
Satoru Gojo
how he moans — He’s so damn cocky and breathy. Gasping whenever you brush over his sensitive spots, deep chuckling at every cute face you make. You couldn’t make him shut up even if you wanted to, he’s always going to be in your ear telling your what a good girl you are and letting you hear just how amazing your pussy feels.
he just won’t latch off your tit — when you’re riding him he has perfect access to your beautiful tits, how could you expect him not to suck them? He knows you love it when he can feel your cunt flutter around his cock.
he can barely control himself when you first have sex — he’s been waiting so long to have you like this, sitting naked on top of him. He might usually be smooth but now all he can think about is making sure he gives you a good fuck.
vanilla — sometimes vanilla sex is the best kind. He just loves the sight of you riding him with he idly play with your tits. So what if he wants it all the time?
videos — Satoru knows how flushed your get when he sends you videos of him jerking off and moaning your name. He’s away all the time, so he knows it’s the best reminder that he’s coming back to fuck you soon.
joining the mile high club — you’ve fucked almost everywhere. Almost. A plane now happens to fall upon that list.
Choso Kamo
how he moans — chanting please and curses. He’s a sensitive man, so they come out easily when you fuck him. Even when he’s the one on top, driving his cock deep into your soaking chasm, he still moans sweetly. He just loves you so, so much and you make him feel so fucking good. He can’t deny you the sound of his pleasure even if he wanted to.
treating him well — he goes so red in the face when you kiss him while palming his dick. Each time your lips reach his neck he shivers, so happy to have someone treat him so well it’s almost euphoric. Of course he’s stuttering “W-What about you?” Just make out with him until he sees stars.
foreplay — feeling your naked body against his, having his hands slide through your hair and lips move fluidly against yours makes him yearn for you in ways he didn’t know was possible, sure he was already hard the moment you touched him but now he’s aching and twitching for you, leaking pre cum.
he’s so big, but you take him — Choso is always slow, making sure you adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. He kisses your cheek and neck, mumbling praises. ‘You’re too big, Cho.’ You grunt, holding onto his arm. He shakes his head, disagreeing. ‘You’re the perfect size for me, my love, you take me in so perfectly. So well.’
Kento Nanami
how he moans — so lazy and deep. He just can’t stop praising you, loves to tell you how perfect you are between aimless grunts and breathy exhales. He’s a composed man, always aware of how good he’s making you feel so he’s never too lost in his own pleasure to moan so loudly, he’s quiet (unless you’re sucking him till he cums down your throat, then you’ll hear the best of his grunts).
he knows exactly how to get you crying for him — He might never openly admit it, but Kento is obsessed with your meek little moans and he knows playing with your pussy is the best way to squeeze them out of you.
perfect house wife — domestic life makes his heart truely happy, so when he comes home to you wearing nothing but an apron it makes his dick happy too. He just has to touch you and tell you you’re the perfect wife.
playing with you in front of a mirror — he enjoys seeing you quiver and your face scrunch up when he toys with your pussy, in front of a mirror means he can see it all perfectly.
Toji Fushiguro
how he moans — you have to be doing one hell of a good job to get this man to shut his mouth and moan for you. He’s a dirty talker, not a moany little sub. Still, his grunts are quiet and gruff. He’s most loudest when he slides into your gummy pussy for the first time and when he cums inside you.
favourite position — he just loves to pull you onto his cock. After a while, your legs begin to shake so he has to hold you upright and that’s how he knows you’re about to cum. Missionary comes in close second, just because he loves to feel you claw his back.
hate sex — you’re both pissed at each other, so what better way to rid yourself of your anger than to fuck it out? Straddle him, don’t give him the chance to top you, slap and ride him till he cums. Then maybe he’ll learn to respect you more.
when he tells you to ride his face, he means ride it — his lazy ass still wants you to do all the work, rolling your hips against his stunted tongue. He’s grinning, loving the moans you work out of yourself.
the only time he begged for it — you had been sending him some pretty saucy picture whilst he was away. It had been weeks since the two of you fucked and he wanted to see more of you’re perfect body. ‘I want to hear you beg’ you sent, then received a video from him.
Sukuna
how he moans — deep, deep moaning. The type of moan that hides a growl in the back of his throat as it rumbles against your chest. There are times he can get a little breathy, but he’s confident and never loses his cool. He mostly talks you through sex, so you’ll mainly hear grunts between his filthy dirty talk. Sometimes you swear you can hear a bit of Yuji coming through when he moans.
learn to shut your mouth while he fucks you — he calls you brat for a reason, because you love to talk back. When his hand wraps around your throat, you only have room to gasp for breath which is how he prefers you.
gently touching you after sex — post-sex is often when Sukuna is the sweetest. He admires your body, gently grazing his sharp nails over your skin and watching you retract at the tickling touch.
messy sex — there have been times where Sukuna burns for you, needing you in every possible way. He needs your scent, your skin, your hair, your body, your voice. He craves you, leading to a rough and messy quickie that’ll leave you utterly raw.
he has no patience — sure, he might like the idea of watching your fuck yourself on his cock, but in practice you’re much too slow. He needs to fuck you at his own pace, not let you work yourself off agonisingly slow.
keep quiet, brat — you need to learn to control your voice, but no matter how many times he tells you off you just keep hollering his name. So he decides to smack his hand over your mouth to cover up the noise.
even when you’re on top, you’re still a bottom — you were so excited when Sukuna agreed to let you top him. Although you were suspicious that he grunted a ‘yes’ so quickly, you didn’t read too much into it. Only when he had your hands bound behind your back, fucking up into your cervix did you understand he would never let you dominate him.
Yuji Itadori
how he moans — loud and messy. Once Yuji feels your cunt sucking him in the rest of the world disappears. All he can babble out are swears and compliments on how hot you are, how good you make him feel, how much he loves you. If the sex is softer (which is hardly the case), he can maintain composure a little better. He still grunts and swears, but at least the neighbours won’t hear.
favourite position — the way your ass collides with his hips and the defined arch of your back is like a work of fucking art. The sound of your moans muffling into his pillow is something he thinks about all the time. He just hates that he can’t see your perfect face, so please look back at him while he fucks you.
He waited all day to fuck you — you had been riling him up since the early morning; grazing your hand over his thigh and crotch, texting him lewd things, whispering sweet things in his ear. The moment you two got home he cornered you from behind, pressing lustful kisses to your neck and stripping you of your clothes until you both were naked and he had laid you over him.
cant get enough of your butt — he just loves your curves, flat or fat he admires you either way. Planting sweet kisses and mumbling how you were ‘built to make him hard’, whatever that means. He just runs his mouth when it comes to your body.
loves seeing you have fun riding him — the way you playfully hold his hand while you grind into his hips, or the way you break into a laugh when he grabs for your boobs, he just loves to see you have fun, especially on his dick.
no condom? — he’s always forgetting to buy condoms, you guys fuck like bunnies, how is he supposed to remember how many you two use up? You refuse to have a pregnancy scare, so you’ll just fuck him over layers of clothes.
Megumi Fushiguro
how he moans — Megumi starts off pretty balanced, but when things start to get intense he fluctuates between high and whiny to low and gravely (he’s especially embarrassed about moaning so high, so he tries to hold it back). He also doesn’t particularly enjoy being vocal, but a few physical and verbal prompts from you will get him in your ear.
you asked so nicely — he tells you he’s close and that he’s gonna cum, and how could he resist the urge to fill you up when you ask him so kindly to cum inside you? He’s surprised, but when you beg again he knows he can’t deny your sweet request.
nervous to touch you — he isn’t used to much physical affection, but he wants to touch you so badly. He loves to hear your gasps when his hands start to wander, so despite not being exactly sure what to do he’s eager to learn and memories the feeling of your body.
so kind to your cunt — the way he drags his tongue across your wet lips, making his saliva mix with your slick and creating a sloshy noise each time he repeats the motion. His narrow eyes gaze up at you, watching you throw your head back before closing and letting his sense of taste take over.
fucking you slowly — he’s never ruthless, especially when you want him to be. He moves his hips at his own pace, playing with your clit and enjoying the way you squirm for more.
Toge Inumaki
how he moans — He makes up for the lack of talking by grunting deliciously each time you make him feel good. The louder he is, the better you’re doing and the closer he is to cumming. Even when the focus is on you he’s still making noise, grunting each time you grind against his tongue, or tighten around his fingers.
sucking you sweetly — it’s pretty clear Toge has an oral fixation by the way he sucks your neck, your pussy and especially your tits. He especially loves your boobs, so they get special treatment.
pause your game — ‘I’m busy’ you say, that is until he’s parted your legs, hot breath patting your clothes sex. You try to keep playing, just to tease him further but his mouth feels so good that you can’t help moan and watch him eat you out. You’ll finish the level another day.
payback — you come over to spend time with him, only to be met with the back of his gaming chair. You’ll just have to give him the same treatment he gave you when you were too busy for him.
helping hand — leaning against his naked chest, going weak against him as he rubs your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers inside your pussy.
Yuta Okkotsu
how he moans — loud, weak moans. He’s so sensitive, he can’t help but whine in your ear as you fuck him. It’s not like he’s embarrassed either, Yuta loves to lose himself in your pussy and let you know how good it feels. You tell him he deserves to feel this good and it makes him sob pathetically.
shivering underneath your grip — he’s just too sensitive, you might go slowly for him just so he can relax but your skin is so soft, you’re gripping him so firmly and your breath hits his cheek. It’s all too overwhelming that he can’t help but tremble.
next best thing — you weren’t planning to end up fucking Yuta, but the two of you had gotten so heated whilst kissing. Neither of you had brought any condoms, so you decided to give him the next best thing and grind your pussy onto his cock whilst he moaned your name.
you fit perfectly on top of him — nothing else can compare to your lips moving like honey against his whilst his cock sits safe and warm in your pussy.
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⋆༺𓆩𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𓆪༻⋆
18+ Only - Minors DNI
Kinks: Boob job, Riding, Edging, Sadism/Darcryphilla, Overstimulation, Double Penetration/Cockwarming
A/N: So I am a flop and I went out this weekend and now I have homework to do so I couldn't finish my first Kinktober fic on time but hopefully by this Weds! I did want to post SOMETHING for the 1st day of Kinktober so I hope this suffices! This isn't officially apart of my Kinktober Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals but will add this to the bottom of the list as a bonus!
WK: 2.1k
Song Inspo: Monster - Lady Gaga (slightly)
Slightly black fem coded but no descriptors
Edit - 11/1: The Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK men is now up as a part 2!
Enjoy!
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Gojo: Tittyfucking
He might be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and fight curses more terrifying than anything a Hollywood writer can imagine but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t going to scream like a bitch at the tinniest jump scare.
You watch horror movies with your boyfriend Gojo so he can comfort you but you end up being the one holding on to him.
You suspect at times though he plays it up a bit, just so he can lay his head on your soft tits and rub his face in between them when a “scary part” comes on.
Your suspicions are confirmed when his hands slip up your shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your tits.
“Aw come, on babe let me just play with them a little– they’re like stress balls.”
This always results in him somehow convincing you to let him straddle you. Gojo is placing his already-dripping-and-hard cock between your tits even before half the movie is over.
“Aw, come on pretty girl, I’m so close! Open up that tight little mouth for me wide like you scream when a scary part comes on.” He groans out as he fucks himself between your soft tiddies.
“You mean the way you scream Satoru!?” you retort rolling your eyes.
Clearly you haven't learned much Gojo thinks. Your slick mouth gets you into trouble frequently with him and you are quickly silenced when he reaches back and shoves 3 long fingers in your dripping cunt.
Your pussy tightens as his fingers continue to bully themselves deeper thrusting in time with his hips into your breasts.
AHHH! SHIIIIIIIT TORU, F-FUCK!
“No sweet girl, I mean the way you screamed just now.”
Gojo says smugly taking advantage of your scream to bust ropes of his hot seed on your tongue.
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Nanami: Riding
Nanami loves to do things you like to do to make you happy. He even will sit through one of your trashy horror movies without complaint.
Although he might end up reading a novel or the paper after 15-20 minutes, he will never miss a chance to give you reassuring kisses to the temple or a rub on your lower back whenever you get scared.
However you can’t watch horror movies with him because you are actually the one always distracted by him.
The way his handsome face looks utterly uninterested in the movie other than an arched brow on occasion but still is still sitting here for you and even makes sure to take care of you is too sexy to you.
So sexy you slowly become less interested in whatever the hell you were watching and more needy for him to pay attention to you.
This always results with you bouncing in his lap midway through.
“What about your monster movie Y/N?” Nanami questions you amused.
His voice has an air teasing concern.
Your mouth goes slack as drool and moans spill from your lips, you can’t form a reply. You just lean to bury your head into his neck wrapping your arms around him holding on.
When you tire yourself like this, Nanami assists in you riding him as his hands grip your soft waist. He brings you up to his tip almost pulling out of you completely before he forcibly drives you further back down onto his dick.
You bottom out on him every time your hips come down on his lap, you’re practically screaming at this point.
“Nothing more monstrous than Daddy’s cock stretching this tight cunt full, isn't that right doll?” Nanami coos in your ear.
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Toji: Edging
Yeah you’ve just gotten to the point where you don’t even put on a movie to watch when Toji is over.
His attention span for it is zero as nothing scares his ass ever so the opening credits aren’t even over before he already has his hand down your pants.
Toji lazily plays with your clit and teases your pussy with his fingers while you try and fail miserably to ignore him enough to watch your movie.
You pouted at him as you really wanted to watch your favorite horror movie tonight!
However by the 20 minute mark you are now begging him to let you come.
“Nah, baby see this is the good part.” Toji says, smirking into the back of your neck.
Toji has not a single fucking clue what’s happening in the movie he just wants to teach you a lesson.
He sucks on the back of your neck hard enough to leave a mark, making you moan.
However, you are still left unsatisfied.
Just when you think the burning between your legs will consume you he resumes digging his thick fingers into your guts.
Toji knows your insides so well he knows how your pussy feels the moment before your body will release sweet toe-curling-bliss and his hands come to a complete stop again.
“Daddy, Puh-leaseee!”
You beg with tears in your eyes as you lean your head back to pout at him. You grab the hand in your cunt to try to force him to move again to no avail.
“Not a chance, brat. You wanted to watch this shitty ass movie so bad. So we are going to watch the entire fucking thing before I let you come Y/N.”
"What are we even watching– " Toji grabs the remote and the overlay pops up.
"Oh Alien? Yeah, you picked a long one this time slut, buckle up."
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Choso: Overstimulation
Choso’s edgy emo ass is more than happy to watch horror movies with you.
However due to his curse abilities, Choso is constantly pointing out the technical feasibility of the movie so much it ruins it for you.
Don't let it be a slasher movie as Choso is non-stop critiquing “That blood spray pattern isn’t realistic” and “Did you know you could lose up to 40% of your blood?”
You end up being so annoyed with your forensic encyclopedia boyfriend you grab his face to kiss him in order to stop his ranting.
Choso ends up repentant as the death painter comes to the realization he forgot himself again and ends up spoiling yet another scary movie for you.
Choso hates upsetting his princess so he always ends up trying to make it up to you.
Truly, just shutting the hell up and watching the movie would be enough for you. Yet that wasn’t good enough repentance for Choso and as a result you ended up face down on the sofa while he ate you out from the back.
A true munch to the core this man was a messy eater. Tongue, lips, nose all up in your cunt.
Slurping, lapping, nibbling– Choso kept his face in your pussy gobbling up your juices like he hadn’t consumed any liquid in days.
He once remarked your pussy tasted more refreshing than water.
You would wonder when the man even took time for a breath if he didn’t have you squirting to the point of mind numbing overstimulation, your legs shaking and chest heaving.
“Keep those hips up Y/N baby, I’m not done apologizing.”
He slaps your ass and is so transfixed by how your pussy dribbles out a lil more squirt he does it again, returning his mouth to your cunt to suck out more fluids.
“FuckFuck I- F-uck… I f-forgive you C-Choso damnit -OH!,” you babbled and came on his tongue again for the umpteenth time that night.
"That's it baby, keep being messy on my face yeah? Let me show that nasty lil slit how sorry I am, 'kay?"
Completely pussy drunk Choso sounded deranged.
This man was going to completely dehydrate you before the night was over.
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Geto: Sadism/Darcryphilla
Geto is probably the easiest one to watch horror movies with by far. He actually is amused by them and how bad they all are.
He will let you lay reclined on him and run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly giving you a scalp massage.
The big problem here though is that your squeals and yelps of fear make his dick throb.
Even better if you get so scared there's tears that start falling. He wont be able to stop his hard dick from straining against the fabric of his pants.
Geto loves to hear you cry out so much that if the movie isn’t scary enough he had been so inclined on occasion to release a relatively harmless, yet gruesome looking, curse to pop up behind the TV. He would wait for a suspenseful part to really give you a fright and start the waterworks.
Although as much as he loves the sound of your cries there’s a sound he loves even more.
“F-Fuck, you hear her princess?”
Geto is ruthless when he is pussydrunk and he makes you hold your legs wider for better access as he roughly splits open your cunt in a mating press.
Your pussy is a gooey mess as you cream around him from what has to be the 5th time that night. In your own cockdrunk stupor you wonder how long he has been pumping into you and filling you up now.
Is the movie over?
But you can’t see anything as his long hair and dark robes dangle open around you.
You also can’t hear anything except for the obscene squelch of fluids gushing out of your cunt.
All you can do is hold your legs and take Geto’s assault on your body until he had his fill of you.
“Sugu–” you sobbed in protest but he cut you off.
“Shhh, Y/N quiet while she’s talking to me–”
He reaches down grabbing your soaked and discarded panties before balling them up. Geto pushed them into your mouth, muffling your cries as thick tears seeped down your face.
“Awe, baby I love you… but I only want to hear from her right now. Shit, this filthy pussy is a real scream queen.”
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Sukuna: Double Penetration/Cockwarming
Yeah he is straight up the worst to watch with.
He will most definitely ridicule you and make you feel like an idiot when you ask him to watch a scary movie of all things with you.
“Oh my ditzy lil’ slut wants to see something scary?” No, you remind him you do NOT want to find some random sorcerers just to see just how quickly and in how many different ways his Malevolent Shrine domain could kill someone.
If you pout enough though he eventually relent. On his terms.
Sukuna lets you know if you get what you want, he gets what he wants too.
What does Sukuna want?
He wants you double stuffed and dumb on his cocks, of course.
Your cunt and your ass are both stretched to their limits from his huge twin cocks in his True Form.
Sukuna tells you mockingly long as you kept sitting nice ‘n pretty for him, he would watch the movie with you.
“Hmmmrghhhh”, you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles.
It’s hard to even breathe when you are this full of him. You feel as if his dicks are reaching up into your throat as you choke for air.
Winded from just sitting on him, the gravity alone had you cockdrunk on him almost instantly as you felt his four hands everywhere along your body.
You gasp out loud when you hear him laugh and the hardy vibrations from his chest travel straight into your pussy. You clench and cream around his cocks.
Not even his huge cocks could plug you up enough to keep from dripping a big giant wet spot onto your sofa that he definitely wont be helping you clean up later.
“HA! Brat, you see that fucking loser who cried ‘I’ll never leave you’ then his head flew off two seconds later? What a dumbfuck.”
Scary movies were like comedies to The King of Curses.
He slaps your thigh for emphasis. Sukuna is both equally entertained by how stupid the movies humans called 'horror' are as well as you trying to keep from blacking out on his cocks.
An hour in, you were doing so well he smirked.
“Brat!” Sukuna growled when you didn’t answer him.
You were supposed to be watching the fucking movie.
“Come on slut, pay attention" he taps your cheek (lighter than you expect) as you gurgle back in response, completely gone.
"Don't cry so hard for me to watch next time brat if y'er gonna tap out like this just from sitting on some cocks.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: Reblog or comment and tell me which JJK man you'd watch with. Likes are appreciated as well!
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A duty— Capitano
Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!
Wc: 3.3k
Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.
Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!
Tick tock.
You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.
Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.
The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.
The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.
You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.
"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.
He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.
"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.
"Member of the fatui Harbingers."
His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.
Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.
You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.
"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.
He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.
"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.
"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.
•••
Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.
And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.
Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.
You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.
As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.
Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.
"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.
The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"
You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."
Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.
"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.
"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.
The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.
"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.
You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.
You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.
"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.
"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.
"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.
"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.
•••
The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.
The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.
Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.
Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.
He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"
"i was waiting for you."
"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."
Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.
He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.
Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.
"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."
You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?
Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.
Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.
His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.
"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.
"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.
"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.
"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.
"Goodnight."
•••
"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.
"The lady should be at her chambers."
"She's not."
"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.
"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"
"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.
Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.
You couldn't have escaped, right?
Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.
You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.
"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.
Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.
"Have you ever done this before?"
"No."
"Never? It's nice."
"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.
"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.
You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.
"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."
He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"
"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.
Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.
What?
Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!
"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.
But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.
"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?
Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.
You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—
"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."
You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"
"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.
"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.
•••
Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.
But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.
You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.
He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.
The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.
His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.
He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.
Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.
After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.
But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.
Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.
Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?
But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.
He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.
"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."
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