#let them simmer let them cook | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

revasserium · 7 months

Note

Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

4K notes · View notes

zoethebitch · 2 years

Text

Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna take 4 russet potatoes. You're gonna peel them and dice them. You're gonna set them in a bowl of cold water so they don't oxidize. Then you're gonna cook a half pound of bacon until crispy and set it aside. You're gonna melt 4 tablespoons of butter in a dutch oven. No more, no less. Add some diced onion and garlic to that. Saute it for a couple minutes. Then you're gonna add 4 tablespoons of flour and make a roux. You're gonna add 3 cups of milk to the roux. Slowly. Don't get in a hurry. Then add 3 cups of chicken stock. Add plenty of salt and pepper. Bring it to a boil. Add your potatoes in. Let that simmer for 20 minutes. Then you're gonna add some sour cream, the chopped up bacon from earlier, and some grated cheddar. You're gonna stir that together for 5 minutes. And then garnish it with a little green onion and shredded cheddar. You got it?

#not my recipe I got it from @bibo

26K notes · View notes

zanarkandskylines · 24 days

Text

₊✩‧₊⇢ had a depressive episode yesterday and just whipped this up to feel better. a little selfshipy but is suitable for anyone 💕

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』

“C’mere already,” Katsuki calls from his bed, arms outstretched as he lays on his back. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

You comply, stalking over from the doorway and crawling across the sheets into his embrace, face snug against his chest. He sighs into your hair, planting a few soft kisses onto the top of your head.

“Ya look like you needed some love, peach.”

It’s almost scary how well Katsuki can read your emotions. You hadn’t even told him that you were feeling down, he just knew by your mannerisms.

“How’d you know?” You ask sheepishly. You’d gotten to his apartment a few hours ago…how’d he read you so quickly? Well, it could have been that you showed up in sweatpants and his hoodie - your go-to comfort, low energy outfit.

“I jus’ do. ‘S like a sixth sense.”

“That’s for ghosts, dummy,” you giggle while idly fiddling with the material of his shirt.

You can practically hear the grin in his reply. “Got ya ‘ta laugh, didn’t it?” He gives you a light squeeze and kisses your forehead.

How can two people be so connected? It often left you wondering how you’ve gotten so lucky to have someone like Katsuki around, let alone adore and love you with his entire being.

“Any dinner requests?” He asks, shaking you out of your train of thought. “Y’gotta be hungry, I haven’t seen ya eat all day.”

You pull back from his embrace and pinch his cheek, bringing your lips to his for a gentle kiss. “Oh, is Chef Bakugo taking requests now?”

“Not if you’re gonna heckle me about it. And it’s Chef Dynamight, get it right!” he retorts with a huff.

“Whatever you were gonna make, I’m fine with.”

Katsuki sits up, releasing you from his hold and scoots to the edge of the bed. He motions for you to follow him.

Once the two of you are in the kitchen, he grabs you by the waist and tugs you over to an empty section of the countertop. Effortlessly, he picks you up and sits you on the marble. Katsuki shimmies between your legs, one hand on each thigh as he graces you with a sweet smile - a rare sight.

“Ya don’t gotta do anythin’, sweets. Your job is to look pretty while I cook for you, ‘kay?” He gives you a quick peck on the lips and pats your thighs before turning toward the cabinet to grab his cutting board and spices.

For the next hour, you silently watch Katsuki prep dinner for the two of you. He’s decided to make a chicken curry, one of your favorites, all from scratch. He’s got the sauce simmering on the stove while cutting up the vegetables and potatoes. You’ve tucked your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees as you watch him in his element, bouncing between tasks without breaking his concentration. Before Katsuki tosses the peppers he’s cut into the pot, he pops a small piece into his mouth and offers you one as well. You take it from him without hesitation - he loves to have you taste test and sample anything involving his cooking, even if it’s just a simple bell pepper.

After another 15 minutes passes, the ding! of the rice maker signals that everything is ready to eat. You slide off the counter and skip over to grab plates when Katsuki scoops you up by the waist from behind, bunching the hoodie up your midsection.

“Oh no ya don’t! Sit your stubborn ass down an’ let me get it.”

You sigh in defeat, closing the cabinet as he whisks you out of the kitchen and plops you onto the couch in the living room. Within a few minutes, Katsuki reappears with two full plates of curry. He sets them both on the coffee table and turns to grab the blanket off the back of the couch, unfolding it to drape over your legs.

He does a double take around the room while grabbing the TV remote. “Need anythin’ else, baby?”

You shake your head, responding with a soft “no.”

Katsuki joins you under the blanket and hands you your plate from the table. He settles in next to you, turning on a mindless reality show before kicking his feet up on the table and leaning into you - blissfully sinking into the cushions.

“This shit is so fuckin’ stupid, but it’s fun to hear the wild commentary you do,” Katsuki quips with a laugh. “Like how the fuck do these people even breathe on their own?”

“Beats me, and yet they’re richer than we’ll ever be,” you joke, digging into your curry with a satisfying hum.

Katsuki kisses you on the cheek before returning to his curry, fascinated with the stupidity of the reality show. He knows you’re thankful, never expecting a verbal ‘thank you’ in times like these. Your smile and laugh, along with the return of the twinkle in your eyes, was enough for him.

💥 tags; @slayfics ✨

#bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff #mha fluff #my hero academia #☆.rei writes

1K notes · View notes

cake-writes · 4 months

Text

Just This Once

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.

Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On

—

Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.

You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night.

So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were away? Why does he want to do anything for you?

Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication.

You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.

What the hell is he doing?

He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.

It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way.

“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.”

Your birth control must be overdue, then.

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.

He should have known then that he was getting too attached.

Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way.

As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.

He could get you pregnant.

A jolt of arousal shoots through him.

Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…

His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.

Kakashi swears. Loudly.

You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.

He’s already too attached. Way too fucking attached.

—

Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone.

His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.

What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.

Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.

The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.

The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock to make the entry a little easier.

“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

“Mm. Do you want me to?”

His question hangs heavy in the air.

The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.

You want to say no, he realises.

He wants you to say no.

“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk.

Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership.

His.

Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do.

He agrees.

“Just this once.”

Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there hasn't been a risk.

Your coy little smile is what prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth.

He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go.

As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat.

He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well.

To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the soft skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl.

“More than okay,” you sigh.

As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.

He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.

“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”

So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.

He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?

He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste.

Later.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?”

Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows.

He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go.

“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you.

“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate.

It’s selfish, he knows.

The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take.

He wants it to take.

Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.

“Close?”

Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.

He stamps it down.

“I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?”

When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I— shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”

“Really?”

To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.

It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form.

“Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily.

His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”

Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.

Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.

“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—”

“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.” He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.

You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.

Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal, that he’s always refused to name.

He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something. He wants them to mean that you’re his.

He’s too attached.

To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he snaps his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.

It doesn’t last long. He’s too worked up.

Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—”

“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.

When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.

“Come inside me,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.

His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up—

“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off.

If he moves right now, he’s done for.

When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.

You finish first. Always.

“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.

Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss just beneath your ear, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”

“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy.

Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”

Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple—

“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time.

He laughs softly at that. No more teasing. You want him to be nice.

You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you.

“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—”

Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.”

Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight.

His jaw tenses at the reminder.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?”

Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves.

No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen.

And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee.

Get her there, then pull out.

Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch.

A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon.

“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—”

Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now—

He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall.

Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it.

“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—”

He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth to assert his control, and still, he recites his mantra.

Get her there, then pull out.

Get her there, then—

You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips.

Seeing your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced.

“Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—”

“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want.

The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own, and you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.

He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry.

Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white, marking you as his.

It feels good. It feels right.

He’s too attached.

He doesn’t care.

As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits.

Why the hell did he do that?

What the hell did he do?

Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.

He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.

Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.

“Did I— Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep and hit your cervix a little too hard. That’s what usually tends to happen.

“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.”

Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.

His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.”

Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur.

They’re happy tears, you said.

You’re happy with him.

He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go.

You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”

Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.

“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.

You laugh and turn him back towards you, gently cupping the side of his face. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”

That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight.

He wants to do it again.

He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came.

It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine?

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”

Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He swallows thickly. “I’m fine.”

When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.”

You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.

It’s cute. You’re cute.

“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.

“What?”

This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Why aren’t you more upset?”

“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this because of my birth control?”

“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”

You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!”

Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then.

Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot.

“That’s so bad! What if you actually got me pregnant?”

A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.

You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?”

“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”

How the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate.

But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d run away as fast as he could.

A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed.

“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.”

Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone, never mind the words you speak in it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”

And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back.

“Because,” he rasps.

The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t face you. He’s too embarrassed.

“Because why?” you ask breathlessly. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?”

A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads.

“Hm? Why not?”

To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. Do you know why?”

The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.

Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation.

He likes that you understand him as well as you do.

He likes you.

“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached.

—

Snippet #1:

“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you.

“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. I just didn’t think I’d be able to get an appointment that soon. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. “And what if I don’t want to be careful?”

He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself. “You tell me.”

—

Snippet #2:

Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.”

You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?”

He shifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye.

You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing this is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.”

He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission.

Looks like you’re on the same page, then.

Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home.

That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—”

“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused.

You worry your lip between your teeth and nod.

“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.”

Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?”

Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—”

When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.

—

A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagine #kakashi #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi

2K notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 1 month

Text

Reunions Embrace ~ HYJ

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

GENRE: idol!AU, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, blow job, unprotected sex, reader taking care of the prince as deserved,

PAIRING: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The moment Hyunjin stepped into the house, a sense of tranquillity washed over him, filling every corner of his being with a comforting embrace. The home had been completely transformed since he left as if his absence had somehow imbued it with an even greater sense of warmth and homeliness.

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of evening light filtering through the blinds, it felt like peace compared to the bus he'd been cramped on for months. The coffee table had a vase of fresh cut flowers placed in them, so fresh he could smell them from the doorway and his body began to relax completely but the one thing putting him into a complete state of relaxation was the smell of cooking. Not just any cooking but Hyunjin's favourite meal that was greeting him, instantly warming his heart as he went toward the kitchen in the hunt for you.

In the kitchen, he found you standing by the stove, your sleeves rolled up as you tended to a pot simmering on the stove. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of his favourite meal, a comforting blend of spices and flavours that instantly transported him back to simpler times.

"Hey, you're home!" You exclaimed, rushing over toward him and instantly wrapping your arms around him, his arms snaking around your waist as his head rested on the top of your head. This was what peace was, this was everything he ever wanted in life. To come home to you and this hug. He held you close, feeling the warmth of your embrace chase away the lingering chill of his travels.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with longing and affection. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to hold you and he wasn't planning on letting go so easily. You smiled to yourself, letting out a happy sigh as you snuggled your head into his chest.

The two of you spoke almost every day whenever you could but it was hard when his schedule kept him so busy on tour, but you understood the risks of dating someone in his career and you accepted them. As long as he continued to come home to you, that was all you cared about.

Slowly pulling back you looked up at him with eyes that sparkled with joy and love, you were almost afraid if you looked away he would suddenly disappear.

"I've missed you too," You replied softly, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, it had grown so much longer since the last time you saw him and you knew it was going to be irritating him sooner or later.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude for having you in his life. Despite the distance and the challenges you faced, you were always there for him, supporting him and loving him unconditionally. No matter the rumour going around you stood by him, waiting for him to tell you his side before ever passing judgement. Always there to care for him whenever he was sick or overworked, you were always there and he couldn't have been more grateful for you.

"I can't believe you cooked my favourite meal," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You really are the best." He kissed the top of your head as you grinned up at him, your eyes shining with happiness.

"Well, I wanted to do something special for you," You said, your voice filled with warmth as you slowly went back over to the stove to make sure everything was cooking nicely. You had a whole night planned out for him and it wasn't going to end with just the meal,

"Welcome home, my love." You whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder while he stood with you and you cooked. And at that moment, as you stood there together, surrounded by the aroma of his favourite meal and the love that filled the air, he knew that no matter where his travels took him, he would always find his way back to you.

After savouring every last bite of the meal you'd lovingly prepared, he felt a warmth spread through his body unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't just the delicious flavours that filled him with contentment, but the knowledge that each bite was a tangible expression of your love and devotion. As he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The worries and stresses of his time away seemed to melt away with each mouthful, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for the love of his life sitting across from him.

"Wait right here," You whispered, your voice soft and soothing, you walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple and smirking to yourself.

"I have something special planned for you." Without giving him a chance to respond he watched as you disappeared from the room, anticipation fluttering in his chest like a butterfly's wings.

Moments later, you returned, your arms cradling a stack of fluffy towels and a bottle of his favourite bath oil.

"Come with me," You said, your voice a gentle melody that beckoned him to follow, almost like a siren's call and he was up in a flash, following after you in silence.

Together, you ascended the stairs, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. As you reached the landing, you led him into the bathroom, where the air was heavy with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus.

With tender care, you began to fill the tub with warm water, the sound of rushing water a soothing symphony that filled the room. Once the tub was filled to the brim, you poured in a generous amount of bath oil, the fragrant aroma enveloping you both in a cloud of tranquillity.

"You don't have to do all of this for me," He mumbled a little, guilt weighing on him as he thought about all of the efforts you were going through for him. He'd been away so long and yet you were still doing all of this for him and a small part of him felt as though he should be the one to do this for you.

"I want to, I missed you and want to take good care of you," You told him as you glanced over your shoulder, reading the look on his face easily and sending him a reassuring smile.

"But-"

"No buts, I want to do this and I will," You said sternly, making him chuckle a little as you stood up and turned to face him.

"Now, it's time to relax." You whispered as you kissed him softly, slowly peeling off his clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket inside the room. Continuing to strip him and kiss his naked shoulders as you did so, smiling happily as you watched him sink further into relaxation.

Hyunjin stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm embrace of the water with a contented sigh. You knelt beside him, dipping a soft sponge into the water and beginning to wash away the cares of the day with gentle strokes. As you washed him, your touch was tender and loving, each caress a silent promise of your devotion. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself fully to the sensation of her hands moving over his skin, washing away the tension and fatigue that had accumulated during his time away.

"This is nice," He whispered, his head leaning back against the tub as you continued to wash his body gently. It was the first time touching him in a long time but it wasn't sexual, it was relaxing.

"Lean forward." You whisper in his head, once he does you begin to run the sponge down his back, smiling as your boyfriend fully relaxes for you.

"Thank you," He whispered as he leaned back against the tub, his eyes finding yours and smiling in a completely relaxed state. There was no place he'd rather be right now than right here,

"Anytime baby," You giggled a little, kissing him softly as he slipped further into the water, his eyes fluttering shut as you smiled leaning back against the tub enjoying him back with you.

Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your soft lips wrap around his hard length, he couldn't remember how you'd gotten to the bedroom but he didn't care, he was in complete bliss. Your eyes flirt with him as you sink lower onto his shaft and back up again, his moans filling the room as his eyes flutter shut,

"F-Fuck I missed this," He mumbles, his hands clutching onto the sheets as you run your tongue up and down his length, using your hand to stroke what your mouth can't reach as your head bobs up and down, tracing the veins in his skin as you suck.

"Just like that," He moans, his gaze now on you as you looked up at him, humming around him as you continue to suck him deeper, his praises filling you with determination. You wanted this to be the perfect welcome home for him and you were going to do anything for that to happen.

"Ffuuck," He hisses, your pace quickening as you suck him and stroke him faster, pulling off him to spit on the tip before taking him back into your mouth and to the back of your throat again,

"S-Stop...S-Stop," He begs as you pull back, afraid you'd done something wrong but he brought you onto his lap, kissing you deeply and hungrily as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I want to come with you," He whispered as he lined himself up at your entrance, your hands making their way into his hair and you bit down on his lip softly.

"I need you" You whimpered, as he slowly pushed into you, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch, it had been far too long since you'd been with one another but you needed this.

"Shit, Yn, you're so fucking tight," He groans, his head rolling back against the bed as you sank further onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his length as you breathed out a happy sigh,

"You're too big," You mumbled to him, rolling your hips slowly moving your hips in slow circles as his hands clutched onto your hips, there was no way he was going to last long, not when it had been too long since you were last together,

"Y-Yn," He stuttered out, he wanted this to be good for you too but he knew there was no chance he could make you come like this, not with how needy he was,

"This is all about you tonight," You breathed out, biting his ear softly as you slowly began to raise your hips only to let them fall again, rocking back and forth on him as he moaned your name out loudly. Your breathing went faster and shallower as you moved your hips faster on him, his hands digging into your hips as he groaned squeezing his eyes shut and trying to list off baseball players to distract him,

"Come for me baby, I missed you." You moaned out, looking down at him as he whimpered, his hips bucking wildly as he couldn't fight it anymore, the urge to come taking over him as he bucked into you, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusts harder and faster into you. Cumming suddenly as he whimpered your name out, sweat dripping down his forehead as you continued to ride him through his high.

"Maybe I should have made you bathe last," You teased, kissing his lips softly as he whimpered, unable to find words to speak at that moment.

"I'll run a fresh one and I'll join you this time," You told him, slowly getting up and smirking as you made your way to the bathroom, your boyfriend's eyes on you the whole time.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut

941 notes · View notes

willowbelle · 1 month

Text

Not a Chance

Zoro & Jealousy + Possessiveness

per this request!

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: dom! zoro, jealous zoro, very possessive zoro, semi-public sex, wall sex, arm pinning, rough sex, loud sex, lots of dirty talk (im so fr i cooked w the dirty talk on this one), "be loud, let them hear you." type :^)

summary: zoro & reader are privately dating. zoro gets very jealous when he sees law & kidd flirting with reader at a party. zoro confronts the men. zoro aims to show everyone who reader belongs to ;)

word count: ~3,200

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail

Not a Chance

As the celebratory atmosphere envelops the aftermath of the victorious battle in Wano, you find yourself nestled in a corner of the bustling banquet hall, the glow of lanterns casting warm hues over the scene.

It's a moment of triumph, shared among allies turned friends, but for you and Roronoa Zoro, it holds an added layer of complexity.

You and Zoro had been quietly dating, your relationship concealed beneath the veil of secrecy that he prefered. His private nature means that your romance remains known only to a select few, a fact that both frustrates and intrigues you.

But in moments like these, surrounded by fellow pirates and allies, the clandestine nature of your connection is put to the test.

Zoro, with his stoic demeanor and unwavering dedication to his goals, is a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart. Yet, beneath his tough exterior, lies a depth of emotion that he reserves solely for you.

In quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of others, he lets his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that few are privileged to witness.

For you, being with Zoro is much like navigating uncharted waters, thrilling, yet… unpredictable.

His fierce loyalty and unwavering support are constants in your life, grounding you amidst the chaos of the pirate world. And while his private nature sometimes leaves you craving more, you cherish the moments when he lets you in, when he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

In the hidden corners of The Sunny, away from the eyes of your crewmates, you and Zoro share stolen glances and intimate moments that are reserved solely for each other.

The storage closets, nestled deep within the bowels of the ship, become your sanctuaries of intimacy. There, amidst the shadows and whispers of the vessel, you and Zoro find solace in stolen moments of closeness.

The dim light filtering through the cracks in the door paints a soft glow upon your faces as you press together in the confined space, your breath mingling in the air.

The rhythmic sound of The Sunny’s hull against the waves provides a soothing backdrop to your whispered intimacy; the thrusts of his hips, your moans against his neck. In those hidden moments, you bare your souls to each other; sharing fears, dreams, desires, and everything in between.

----

Amidst the revelry, you notice glances and subtle gestures from some of the other pirates, members of both the Heart Pirates and Kidd Pirates, their intentions not entirely innocent.

Their flirtations and insinuations don't go unnoticed, and although you remain steadfast in your commitment to Zoro, a part of you can't help but feel flattered by the attention.

As the night progresses, Zoro's demeanor shifts. His usually composed facade cracks, replaced by a simmering undercurrent of jealousy and possessiveness. You can feel his gaze burning into you from across the room, his grip tightening imperceptibly around his sake cup.

It's Law who approaches first, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he engages you in conversation, his proximity closer than necessary.

"Enjoying the festivities, y/n?" Law asks, his voice laced with playful intent.

"Absolutely," you reply, offering a polite smile, though you can't shake the sense of unease at Zoro's watchful stare.

Zoro's reaction is instantaneous, his jaw clenched as he moves to intercede, positioning himself subtly between you and Law, a silent declaration of his claim.

Next comes Killer, his playful banter veering into suggestive territory, earning a low growl of warning from Zoro.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" Killer remarks, his tone teasing.

Zoro's response is a terse nod, his gaze never leaving Killer's masked face.

Even Kidd, usually brash and unbothered by such matters, can't resist throwing a teasing comment your way, only to be met with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Careful, y/n, you might give poor Zoro here a heart attack," Kidd jokes, flashing a mischievous smirk.

----

As the flirtations from the other pirates intensify, you feel a mixture of discomfort ripple through you. Seeking a moment of respite, you excuse yourself from the crowd and make your way to a quieter corner of the banquet hall where you spot Nami, your best friend and trusted crewmate, engaged in conversation with Robin.

"Nami," you greet, relief flooding your voice as you join them. "Mind if I steal you away for a moment?"

Nami turns to you with a knowing smile, her sharp eyes taking in your slightly flustered expression. "Of course, y/n," she replies, motioning for you to sit beside her.

As you settle in next to her, you can't help but vent your frustrations. "It's like they're all coming out of the woodwork tonight," you mutter, casting a glance towards where the other pirates are still making advances.

Nami's lips quirk into a sympathetic smile. "Well, you are quite the catch, aren't you?" she teases and winks, nudging you playfully with her elbow.

You can't help but chuckle at her comment, grateful for her light-hearted approach to the situation. "I suppose," you reply with a hint of self-deprecation. "But it's not like I'm interested in any of them."

Nami's expression softens, her gaze meeting yours with a look of understanding. "I know, sweetie," she says gently. "But sometimes it's nice to feel admired, even if it's from a distance."

You nod, grateful for Nami's insight. Despite the unwanted attention, her words offer a sense of validation that eases the tension coiling in your stomach. "Thanks, Nami," you say sincerely, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

"Anytime," Nami replies, returning the gesture with a reassuring smile. "Just remember, you've got Zoro watching over you like a hawk. No one stands a chance against that."

----

As the night wears on and the tensions grow, Zoro can't ignore the prickling sense of unease that gnaws at him.

His jealousy simmers just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of protectiveness and possessiveness that threatens to boil over at any moment.

And suddenly, it does; boils over, floods his skull, and pushes him to drastic measures.

Spotting Law and Kidd engaged in conversation across the room, Zoro's steps grow purposeful as he makes his way towards them, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger.

"Law, Kidd," Zoro's voice is low and menacing as he approaches, his gaze piercing through them with a ferocity that makes even the most seasoned pirates flinch.

Law and Kidd turn to face him, their expressions shifting from casual to wary as they take in Zoro's imposing figure.

"What do you want, Marimo?" Kidd retorts, his tone laced with defiance.

Zoro's eyes narrow dangerously, his temper flaring as he squares his shoulders. "I saw the way you were looking at her," he growls, his voice a low rumble that reverberates with barely contained fury.

Law raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "And what if we were?" he replies coolly, though a flicker of amusement dances in his eyes.

Zoro's grip tightens on the hilt of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the effort to restrain himself. "She's off-limits," he spits, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance."

Law and Kidd exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them before Law finally speaks, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of amusement. "Relax, swordsman," he says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We were just having a friendly conversation."

But Zoro isn't appeased, his anger still simmering beneath the surface as he glares at them both. "Just remember," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "She's mine."

As you remain seated with Nami, the conversation ebbs and flows between lighthearted banter and moments of quiet introspection. Despite the festive atmosphere surrounding you, a part of your mind remains preoccupied with the tension that seems to linger in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Nami, ever perceptive, notices the furrow in your brow and the unease that flickers in your eyes. "Is everything alright, y/n?" she asks, her voice laced with concern as she places a reassuring hand on your arm.

You offer her a small smile, grateful for her steadfast presence. "Yeah, I think so," you reply, though the uncertainty still lingers at the edges of your consciousness.

But before you can delve further into the matter, a commotion breaks out across the room, drawing your attention. You and Nami exchange a curious glance before turning to see Zoro engaged in a heated confrontation with Law and Kidd.

Concern etches itself into your features as you watch the scene unfold, the tension in the air palpable even from a distance. "What's going on?" Nami murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans in closer, her eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.

You shake your head, unsure of what has sparked the conflict but feeling a sense of urgency to intervene. "I'm not sure, but I think we should go check on them," you reply, already rising from your seat.

Nami nods in agreement, her expression mirroring your own concern as she follows suit. Together, you make your way through the crowd, weaving between revelers until you reach the center of the commotion.

As you approach Zoro standing with Law and Kidd, you notice the tension radiating from him like a palpable force. His jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed with simmering anger as he exchanges words with the other pirates.

It's a side of him you haven't seen before, raw and unfiltered, publicly displaying his love for you.

"Zoro," you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to diffuse the tension.

He glances at you, his expression still dark with irritation. "Not now," he mutters tersely, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But you aren't deterred. You know that letting his anger consume him won't solve anything. With a gentle tug on his arm, you urge him to step away from the heated exchange.

"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter," you say, your voice laced with concern.

Zoro hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the other pirates. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods and allows you to lead him away from the confrontation.

----

As you walk, you feel the tension slowly dissipating from Zoro's frame, replaced by a sense of calmness. With each step, the anger that had gripped him begins to fade, replaced by the warmth of your presence beside him.

Finally finding a secluded corner of the banquet hall, you turn to face Zoro, your eyes searching his for any lingering traces of anger. "Are you okay?"

But before Zoro can respond, he takes your hand in his with a determined grip, his expression unreadable yet intense. Without a word, he begins to lead you away from the crowded hall, his steps purposeful and unwavering.

Confusion mingles with curiosity as you follow him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you reach the door of the storage, you feel blood rush to your face. The two of you only ever go here for one thing.

Zoro turns to you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent yet powerful exchange. Without a word, he pushes open the door and pulls you inside, making your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

With a gentle yet urgent insistence, Zoro presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

“Mmm!” you whimper against his lips, taken off guard by the suddenness of his advances.

There is a rawness to his touch, a primal need that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, as you lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, you realize that words are no longer necessary. Zoro's actions speak volumes, baring his emotions in a way that words never could.

As Zoro's lips trail down your neck, igniting a fiery trail of desire, you let out a low moan of pleasure.

"Fuck," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you arch into his touch, your hands tangling in his hair.

He groans against your flesh, causing goosebumps to bud all over your needy skin as he continues his fervent exploration.

In a sudden burst of intensity, Zoro's hands find the hem of your shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric with a primal need. With a swift motion, he tears the fabric away, baring your skin to his hungry gaze.

"Zoro-!" you gasp, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you feel the cool air against your exposed flesh, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a feral hunger burning within them. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice husky with longing.

“Please,” you whine, your voice a breathless plea as he trails kisses down your chest.

As Zoro's lips continue their tantalizing journey across your skin, your senses reel with desire. You allow your head to lull back, shutting your eyes and letting your mouth hang slack as you savor each and every touch.

His hardworking, calloused hands explore your body with a newfound possessiveness, and it makes you feel small; he owns you and you like it.

With trembling hands, you reach for Zoro's shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. With practiced ease, he shrugs off the garment, revealing the defined muscles beneath.

The sight of him, bare-chested and consumed with passion, sends a thrill coursing through you. Without hesitation, you press your body against his, reveling in the heat that radiates between you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all inhibitions, giving in to the primal urges that drive you both. Your hands roam freely over his taut muscles, tracing the lines of his scars as you explore every inch of him.

As your fingers dance over his scars, Zoro's breath hitches, his dark eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

"You're mine," he murmurs huskily, his voice rough with emotion.

A shiver runs down your spine at his possessive declaration, but instead of fear, it awakens something entirely different within you. "Yours," you whisper back.

With a hungry growl, Zoro captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, possessively.

"Never forget it," he breathes against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

You arch into his touch, gasping as pleasure courses through your veins. "I won't," you promise, your words melting into a moan as he trails kisses along your collarbone.

Zoro's hands slide down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up with a hunger that matches the intensity of his gaze. As he exposes more of your skin, his breath catches at the sight; your trembling thighs, your wet panties.

“All this?” he smirks, tsking, “All because I got a little possessive?”

“M-mhm,” you whine weakly, shaking beneath his touch.

With a low growl, Zoro grips your thigh, lifting it up to press his crotch against yours. The heat of his body sends electric currents coursing through you, and you can feel the tension building with each heartbeat.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles beneath his skin as you pull him closer, craving more of his touch. "Zoro," you gasp his name, your voice a plea and a prayer all at once.

His lips find yours once more, claiming you with a hunger that leaves you dizzy with need. With each movement, each touch, you feel yourself surrendering completely to his dominance.

Zoro’s calloused fingertips trail down your body to meet your slit, making you gasp softly at the sensation.

He smirks, hooking his fingers beneath the soaked fabric and tugging it aside.

In the same breath, he tugs his pants and boxers down, just enough to remove his cock, rock-hard and throbbing in his grasp.

He leans forwards, the tip of his cock meeting your leaking slit with a gentle nudge. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a moan, reaching around to dig your fingernails into the muscular flesh of the swordsman’s back.

“Yeah?’ he groans smugly, pressing his lips to your neck, “Ready for me?” he questions, his words hot against your flesh.

“Y-Yes, Zoro,” you plead, your tone coming out whinier than anticipated, “Please-”

“Please?” he chuckles against your skin, the dark tone of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, “Please what?” he presses, continuing to guide his thick tip up and down your aching cunt.

You abandon all dignity, the desire for him to just fuck you already overpowering any morsel of self-respect you once contained.

“Please fuck me, Zoro,” you beg, “Show me just how much I belong to you.”

With a low, primal growl, Zoro's grip tightens on your thigh, his eyes dark with hunger as he positions himself at your entrance.

“That’s it, good girl,” he smirks.

Without another word, he thrusts into you with a force that steals your breath away, claiming you completely in a single, powerful motion.

“Zoro-!” you cry out, raking your nails down his back. The sudden bump of his tip to your cervix causes your head to grow fuzzy, and you pathetically attempt to stifle your moans with a shaky hand to your mouth.

With a devilish smirk, Zoro's thrusts intensify, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he hears your attempts to stifle your moans. He grabs your hand away from your mouth and pins it above your head,

"No," he growls, his voice low and commanding, "Let them hear you. Let them know who you belong to."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you obey, letting out a loud, unabashed moan that fills the room with the sound of your pleasure. With each thrust, each gasp, you make it known to anyone within earshot that you are his.

The sensation of him filling you completely makes your limbs go numb with pleasure, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each deep, primal thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him, lost in a haze of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Zoro,” you whine, tears of pleasure flowing down your cheeks as he pounds you into the wall.

Zoro's movements are relentless, driving you both to the edge of sanity as he takes you with a possessiveness that leaves no room for doubt.

You continue to moan loudly for the man you have to thank for your pleasure, making him smirk and double his efforts, the rhythmic sound of your bodies slapping together hardly masking your cries.

"That’s it,” the swordsman chuckles, “No need to be shy," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement, "Let them all know who's making you scream like that."

And as you let out another loud, unrestrained moan, Zoro leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds with a playful grin,

"After all, it's not every day they get to witness the full extent of my skills."

970 notes · View notes

mitsies · 5 months

Text

❊ be sweet - yuuta okkotsu . . there's no love quite like this one.

yuuta okkotsu returns home to the smell of ginger, root vegetables, and spice.

it's your night to cook dinner, and it seems like that's exactly what you've been doing. a pot of unidentifiable, fragrant broth is simmering over the stove. the kitchen is a little bit of a mess; it usually is on your turns to prepare dinner. a slight smile graces yuuta's face as he recalls you explaining it away as part of your 'method.'

you are, however, nowhere to be seen. the living room and kitchen of your shared apartment are recently deserted. you must've been here recently, though, and you should still be close, considering the heat on the stove and a newly lit candle settled on the kitchen counter by a vase of flowers. dropping his bag down in the corner of your shared apartment, yuuta is about to make his way to your bedroom to come look for you when he hears footsteps.

he knows they're yours. there's nothing of yours that he couldn't recognise. he'd know your footsteps anywhere. he'd know the way you exhaled, and he'd know every individual freckle or mole or scab or scar on your body. you're committed to his memory.

you don't notice him at first. instead of coming to greet him like you usually would, he watches as you make your way over to the kitchen from where he stands by the entrance to your shared apartment. you mill about the kitchen, sweeping away some preliminary food scraps— garlic peels, the tops of carrots, onion skins— into your palm, before depositing them into the waste bin. he likes to watch you cook. there's music coming from your phone; it's a song he showed you the other day. you hum along like you've loved it your whole life.

he could probably stay and watch you forever. to yuuta, there is magic in the way you move. pure, utter adoration; that's all he feels for you. but if there's one thing he loves more than simply being around you, it's talking to you, and he can't quite talk to you if you don't know he's there. he calls your name, delighting a little in the way your eyes widen and you swivel to face the direction of his voice almost right away.

"yuuta," you beam. your smile is one that might rival the sun and win. you walk over to him, onion skins still stuck to the palm of your hand, not like you'd notice. taking your boyfriend in an embrace, his hands cradle the back of your head like you're made of precious gemstone. his face is buried in your hair. you smell like root vegetables and home.

"hi," he mumbles into your scalp. you pull away, arms still loosely wrapped around him, and grin. "hi, yuuta. i was just about to call you. how long've you been here?"

"not long."

"good," you reply, finally releasing him and moving back to the kitchen, "dinner's almost ready. i'm trying a new recipe— yuuji told me about it. don't remember what it's called, though."

yuuta follows you, leaning on the counter with his forearms, gaze fixed on you. "it smells good."

"does it? i think i've gone nose blind. all i can smell is onion."

your boyfriend laughs, and you smile. he loves your smile.

a brief silence lapses. it's not uncomfortable, it never is. the sounds of a wooden spoon clanging around a pot and bubbling broth echo through the small kitchen. music still hums from your phone, which now lies discarded and forgotten about next to the candle. he notices the flame flicker a little too close to the flowers next to it. yuuta gingerly shifts the two away and blows the candle out— you'd likely forget to do it later.

the stove clicks as you turn the heat off. "i guess the last thing left to do is let it cool. that might be a while— can you wait?"

yuuta nods. "i need to change anyways."

you turn back to him, nimble fingers tugging at the sleeves of his white jacket. "how was your day?"

it's moments like this where he can forget the world. he can forget the horrors of his career, the tragedy of the world he was unable to save, if only just for a moment. he can chase happiness by its tail. he can find home. there are few things that bring him solace anymore; his friends, the few he can save, and you. he'd always have you. maybe the one person who could fully understand him. the one person he could be honest with.

and he knows he can trust in you. he knows you'll catch him if he falls. so he exhales, and lets himself breathe. "could've gone better."

you frown lightly. taking his face in both hands, you study his expression like you're searching for something. wordlessly, with all the gentleness of a saint, you lower his head into the crook of your neck. he's sure his breath tickles the skin exposed to it, but you're unflinching, unmoving. he feels safer than he ever has, with your hands roaming the planes of his broad back in comforting circles.

"i'm sorry," is all you say. he'll be okay, though. it'd be okay so long as he had you. and he pulls away, and smiles a little, and tells you just that.

he likes the way you look bashful all of a sudden, as if he wasn't yours forever. how long have the two of you known each other now? since he transferred into gojo satoru's class, years ago now. you'd been hesitant like the rest of them at first. but he'd fallen for you— your kindness, your occasional dramatics, your tendency to leave candles unattended near very flammable objects. and somehow, some way, it'd worked out. he used to be so shy, then. timid. he could be sometimes still, but yuuta likes to think that he's grown alongside you. the thought makes him smile. he chases that joy he finds in you. "tell me about your day. i hope you used your first break in forever well."

you give him a teasing, dirty look. "please. of course i did. i'd never choose to go to work."

he laughs again, because it's just so easy to do when he's around you. he loves you more than life, he thinks, as you explain how you and maki got stuck at a train station in kawasaki. while you talk, he picks a piece of vegetable out of your hair. no wonder you were smelling onion everywhere.

yuuta would always be there to look out for you. he'd be there to put out the candles you'd forget about, and clean up your messes, and love you unconditionally, always. and he knows you love him like that, too. you love him in the way you hold his head when he's not feeling his best, and you love him in the way you'd always greet him with a bright smile and a big hug, and you love him in ways he never thought of himself as deserving of.

and it's nights like these, yuuta thinks, that prove that there will be no kind of love to come close to this one.

flowers chosen: jasmine & daisy . . sweet love, amiability & innocence

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

1K notes · View notes

itsbuckytm · 6 months

Text

Nap Time. / Mike Schmidt

Summary : You knew Mike ever since moving next door to his. While you were suggesting to look for a job and him in deed for a babysitter, to keep Abby during his night shifts. You accepted even at times to offer overtime, due to the nights at his work being somewhat more difficult than he had thought. Meaning having to also prepare tonight's dinner when Mike went to take a Nap. Warning : None, Just fluff!

Enjoy!

Mike had diligently prepared your paychecks for the past few months. Despite facing personal challenges, he consistently maintained his commitment to honesty. However, as he handed you your paycheck this time, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. His gaze appeared strangely vacant, and he seemed to avoid eye contact, in line with his prior preference for avoiding meaningless, drawn-out conversations. You couldn't help but observe his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles underneath them, signaling that he hadn't enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in quite a while.

Although you offered to stay a little longer, realizing that dinner wasn't ready and Abby was getting ready for bed, he firmly declined, shaking his head nervously, his stuttering making his anxiety apparent. "No–Noo– It’s– Abby can–" It was at this moment that you understood he had lost everything. The memories from that second night at the Pizzeria and the children were haunting him. He began to disconnect from reality, feeling his body temperature rise and sweat bead on his forehead. If Mike wasn't already in a state of torment, he had surely been gone for a long time.

"I insist." You firmly stated, believing in your words this time. Abby, who had been hesitant to peek from outside her room, came over to hug you. Seeing that you were still there, she tugged at the end of your shirt, signaling that you could stay even if her brother had chosen not to. She preferred spending more time with you, especially after all the recent events. While she deeply cared about her brother, she understood that sometimes adults needed their space, particularly when it involved taking Abby away from Mike and into the care of her aunt, who she herself had strongly objected to it.

Mike observed the two of you, momentarily captivated by how he managed to keep his composure after all he had been through. He let out a sigh, soothingly rubbed his neck, and finally agreed before Abby could voice another protest directly. "Alright, alright. It wouldn't hurt if you stayed a little longer... Maybe to also getting dinner ready too?"

A smile graced your features as you graciously accepted his request, fully aware of his fatigue. "I'll go take a nap if you... don't mind?" Without waiting for your response, he promptly headed to his room, leaving Abby and you alone in the room. "He's been rather grumpy lately." Abby remarked, her expression conveying her amusement as you playfully ruffled her hair. "Can I help?" She then offered to assist you with dinner, a proposition you welcomed with enthusiasm. "Of course. How about I handle the vegetables, and you mix everything?" Abby's face lit up with delight, and she eagerly took your arm, guiding you both to the kitchen.

The cooking process unfolded smoothly, with you patiently waiting for the spaghetti sauce to simmer according to your mother's cherished recipe, allowing it to develop its flavors over a few hours. As Abby settled in to watch her favorite nighttime comedy shows, you made the decision to rouse Mike from his nap before dinner was ready. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing he was in a somewhat disheveled state.

Carefully entering his room, your eyes wandered around, taking in the old drawings, family photographs, and a few posters that appeared to be recent additions, their sheen reflecting the moonlight streaming in through the window. Moving closer to his slumbering form, you gently brushed your fingers across his cheek, prompting him to emit a few soft whimpers in response to your tender touch. You couldn't help but smile, and as you continued to caress his cheek, you noticed his fingers entwining with yours. Initially, you thought it might be a sign to stop, but he murmured, "Please continue..." So softly that it nearly startled you, caught off guard by his vulnerability.

Mike unmistakably recognized your presence, discerning your perfume's scent and the tender affection you consistently bestowed upon him whenever the opportunity arose. However, tonight felt notably distinct, one of those nights when he needed your support the most. It pained him to see you openly caring for a guy burdened with numerous life problems, yet it was one of the aspects about you that he strangely admired, particularly your strong bond with Abby. As you prepared to rise and apologize for waking him so abruptly, he urged you to do the opposite. "Stay for a little while." he murmured, his words soft and slightly hoarse due to his dehydration, as he struggled to express himself.

In response, you emitted a soft hum and nodded, though you were uncertain if he truly meant it. He gently took hold of your wrist, assisting you in settling on his bed in front of him, his body shifting closer to yours. He rested his head on the crook of your neck, exhaling the familiar scent he had always been infatuated with. Though initially feeling a bit uneasy, you nervously cleared your throat and mentioned that dinner was nearly ready. However, he declined, saying, "Abby will know when to... Just stay here for a while."

You realized that declining wasn't even an option as Mike's arms were wrapped around your waist so tightly that he showed no intention of letting go any time soon. Although the sudden display of affection caught you off guard, you couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy this tranquil moment. Your soft smile graced your lips, and at just the right moment, Mike's eyes opened from his deep slumber, fixing on yours with a quizzical brow raised at the sight of your unexpected smile.

"What's the smile for?" He inquired, though he understood the meaning behind it and pretended not to, instead focusing on admiring every feature of your face. You shrugged, perhaps waiting for Mike to provide an answer, but he insisted that you share your thoughts. "I suppose it's just about sharing this moment with you." You confessed with a gentle smile.

"Is it?" He inquired, adopting a teasing tone, causing your cheeks to flush with warmth in response to the unexpected situation. Despite working as a babysitter for Mike, you had never anticipated or considered the possibility of a deeper relationship, let alone sharing his bed at this moment. As you found yourself also admiring his face, a subtle tingling sensation fluttered in your stomach—a mix of desire and affection for the man who had initially been nothing more than a neighbor.

"It is." You firmly concurred, your smile now more at ease. You couldn't help but giggle at how silly you must have sounded, only to then realize that the man who loved you, perhaps even adored you, had been right there in front of you all along. "I'm glad then..." He whispered softly, gently caressing your cheek. He showed no intention of releasing you for a while, even when he sensed your desire to do so, as the aroma of tomato sauce filled the entire house, signaling that dinner was ready.

"Nuh-Uh." He protested with a playful pout, fully aware of where your attention had swiftly shifted. "Pasta can wait just a little longer, please." He pleaded, emphasizing the word 'please.' His protest was more of a source of amusement than a genuine plea for pity. This time it was more of an theatrical performance, and you understood his intention. Even though you didn't make a strong effort to comply, you decided to stay a little longer, especially when you felt his lips against your skin. “I bet you even taste better than your mom’s spaghetti..” His journey from your neck to your collarbone brought a smile to your lips, intensifying the blush that had adorned your cheeks earlier.

In an attempt to deflect from your deepening blush, you attempted to cover it, but Mike had the time to gently lifted your chin as he turned your body to face him. "Did I ever told you that you look like an angel sent from above?" He boldly stated, making you initially think he might have lost his mind with such a bold compliment. However, you chuckled casually and replied. "I suppose so?" You decided to play along, mimicking the playful banter he had engaged in earlier, feigning innocence with a hint of sarcasm. To your surprise, this seemed to arouse him even more, making him desire you exclusively.

"You know."A familiar and youthful voice suddenly chimed in between the two of you, and Abby's figure peeked into Mike's room. You heard a sigh of annoyance, coupled with a sense of embarrassment, as you both realized where you had been all this time. Mike chuckled, "Yes, yes, Abby. We'll be right there for dinner."

"You heard her," you declared, joining Abby to help her get ready to serve dinner. Just as you were about to rise, Mike couldn't hide a pout, one that compelled you to lean in and press a soft kiss on his lips without hesitation. "Come on, grumpy old man. I'm hungry," you playfully protested, rubbing your stomach and indicating that he wouldn't receive any more kisses if he didn't comply. He sighed but abandoned the idea of keeping you both in bed, realizing his own hunger as his stomach grumbled in agreement.

As you got up and left the room, you glanced back at him with affectionate eyes before finally leaving to join Abby. It was in that moment that Mike fully comprehended the depth of what was happening—sharing his life with someone else, someone he loved and cared for deeply. It was something he hadn't expected, but here you were.

For once, Mike felt a sense of rest and inner peace.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt imagines #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh fnaf #josh fnaf gif #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #micheal afton x reader #william afton #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf movies

2K notes · View notes