#the thump thump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milky-aeons · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

౨ৎ . . . now that you've tried it, you knew you would never get used to the taste of GOJO SATORU.

warnings: sexual content, exhibitionism, love-biting, marking, possessiveness, pet-names, praising, blindfolding, oral receiving, female reader, mdni, w.c 1.6k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ CUFF IT (WETTER REMIX) — beyoncé ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who had an exceptionally high sex drive. It did not matter if you had just seen him ten minutes ago or had already collapsed together into bed after two rounds, hot and sweaty. One look at your naked body gleaming under the covers of his bedsheets, or the strong swish of your hips as you walked, or even the scent of your perfume would send blood rushing right down to his cock. And he'd never be subtle about it, typical man that he was. Satoru would press his need against the curve of your back from behind and hum into your neck, kissing skin he'd never get tired of tasting.

Your heart still hammering in your chest from the climax you just came down from, you felt Satoru's arms snake around to circle you from behind. His head buried into your neck, placing little kisses on all the spots he knew you were sensitive for. He pushed his hot, hard cock you had just had inside of you into the ridge of your ass, grinding softly, languidly. Your shock was so sudden it came out as a giggle. "'t-toru...! How are you," You chuckled, deep and intimate, craning to give him better access to your neck. "Did you not... come...?" The words made Satoru release a heady groan. "'Course I did, baby... but seeing you come made me all hard, again~" He nibbled at the lobe of your ear, his hands wouldn't stop roaming against your skin, your sensitive breasts, until his fingers found the heat between your legs and began to massage your sensitive flesh. "You're just so goddamn sexy."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who was not shy about voicing his need for you — no matter where you were; and you were more than willing to satisfy his surprising nature. The wild rush of it made the frenzy of sex more heated for you both, especially when it was in areas where you had to keep quiet. In a public bathroom of an outdoor garden, with your back slammed against the wall of the gym showers, or on the empty terrace roof that overlooked a busy street. Satoru loved watching you repress your mewls and moans so that no one would hear you. He'd lean down to your ear as he thrusted savagely, and you felt his grin against your skin; the words he'd murmur like a tempt into sin;

"Look at you, squirmin' and pantin' for me, hmm? I'd love to fuck you in front of all them, baby girl. They'd all be so fuckin' jealous that I've the most gorgeous girl in the entire world."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who revelled in the bruises and bites you left on his gorgeous skin just as much as Satoru loved it, too. He was like a canvas that was yours to paint, to mark, to claim. His neck, the pretty nail marks you created down his strong shoulders — so broad you could never reach all the way across. His favourite place to leave litters of teeth marks on you must have been between your thighs. You were the most sensitive on the inner area, and Satoru just loved to be a tease. Instead of putting you out of your misery, squirming and bucking into his mouth, he would move to kiss there, instead. And when he did, he'd always remind you that they were for your eyes, and your eyes, only.

"Your pretty thighs look so good, baby. I gotta leave a part of myself here, ya'know? Somewhere no other man can see."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who never let the distance get in between you two. As a teacher at Jujutsu Tech and the strongest shaman the society had to offer, sometimes, Satoru was summoned away. Perhaps to remote country temples where Special Grades had decided to spring up, or overseas to set a mystery that had caught his interest to rest. But even so, late at night when you needed him the most, he would come to you. With one quick clap of his hands, he would transcend time and space just to warp right into your room. Quick and ferocious and frantic, he'd have you against a doorframe or smack in the middle of your floor, before he'd kiss you long and deep and promise he'd be back soon.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who had a plethora of pet-names he showered you in, and even more deep, guttural praises he muttered against your bare skin;

"Fuuuck, that's it, pretty girl. You want more of my cock? You're gonna have to ask nicely." "What does my princess need?" "You ride me so well, baby. Shit — take what ya need from me, use me as yours, baby girl." "Greedy girl... how bad do ya want me? You wanna come here and fuck yourself on my cock, huh?"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who was born with an other-worldly hold on his colossal cursed energy reserves — but there was those rare moments when he sometimes let his power spike out as he lost control. When you bounced on him a little too good and angled your hips just right, or when you had him in your mouth and twirled your tongue around his sensitive tip — crash! A lamplight would go out. A vase would explode. You would feel the dangerous pulse of power that came from him — and giggle, taking it as a chance to tease the forever confident sorcerer.

"My love, do I feel so good that you just let your Limitless spike out?"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who was so very clever with his hands. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer pushed the Honoured One to train even the more unlikely muscle groups — like those between his fingers or the junction of his wrist. And oh, were you so thankful for it when he had them inside you. He could thrum them against your soft walls at a speed that made your eyes roll back. He could stretch you open, and then lean down and insert his tongue, lapping at your entrance until you clenched around him. Sometimes, Satoru would use his entire hand and palm at your core until you were wet and slippery and all over him, just the way he liked you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who always took his morning showers with you. There was an intimacy to it, of course; in how you washed down the centre of his expansive shoulders, or how he massaged the shampoo into your hair. There was also the sight of his gloriously naked body lathered in suds and foam that you would never get tired of seeing. His hair — floppy, soaked, exquisite underneath your fingers when you gripped onto it and pulled him down to your mouth. Your bodies already slick, you would fit against each other perfectly, the soft slapping noises of wet skin would send the both of you smashing through ecstasy together much more quickly than usual.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who adored how your boyfriend fucked into you with him on top — but liked just as much when you took the reigns, too. There was just something about having the strongest sorcerer of them all pinned underneath you, huffing and helpless, while you bounced on top of his cock. You would splay your hands on his flushed pectorals, he would reach behind and hold onto the headboard, thrusting his hips up to meet you in kind.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who was a master at shaman energy, and was always finding new interesting ways to utilise it. When you were splayed naked on his expensive satin sheets and him leaning over you — concentrating Limitless into the palm of his hands and running them all across your sensitive skin. The intensity of it — how he was touching you without actually touching you — it sent any and all of your thoughts into a tailspin.

"This is...!" You gasped when he roved over your nipples, the vibrations of the gravitational pull massaging them in a way so unimaginably good. "Improper use of shaman energy—ah!" "Oya?" Satoru murmured, and you could hear the cheeky grin in his voice. He let those terrible, terrible fingertips pass down your naval and to the ache between your shaking legs. "You sound like you want me to stop, pretty girl..." Your eyes knocked to the back of your head. "Don't you fucking dare."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, who had a favourite position, and it involved you flipped over on your stomach and him, leaning over you, thrusting from behind. There was so many aspects that were in reach to him. He could feel the swell of your ass against his naval with every push his hips gave. He could hug you close — impossibly close, one hand braced beside your head, the other curled underneath to massage your bouncing breasts. Not only that, but it was so easy for him to lean down and whisper filthy secrets into your ear from this position — some of them going something like;

"Who's my pretty little girl? You feel so good. You always feel so. Fuckin'. Good."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who asked him specifically to use his signature blindfold during sex. It was so coarse and dark — you could see nothing through the fabric, which was exactly what you wanted. All your senses sharpened when one of them was taken away — his touch was magnified, it felt like starbursts along your skin, like little flecks of fire. And when he'd make you come, you would do so violently. Your body would bow up from the bed like the straining bow of a harp. You would bark out his name, until he caught you, until he folded you against his heaving chest and gently lifted the blindfold from your eyes. He would run his fingers across your dazed expression and whisper;

"You are so beautiful. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl. It's okay. Come back down, come back down to me. I gotcha. Won't let ya go."

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #🎋 — writing requests #💓 — thump

434 notes · View notes

milky-aeons · 2 months

Text

𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and ranpo edogawa; what their honeymoon would be like.

warnings: marriage, female reader, wife reader, sexual content for dazai, kunikida and chuuya, mentions of death, bondage, swearing, mentions of vomiting, alcohol intake, mdni, w.c 4.2k

𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

To honeymoon after one's wedding was not as practiced in Japan as it was the western world — however, Dazai, of course, jumped at any opportunity to slack off from work. A week away from the city with his newly married wife sounded right up the agent's alley.

And when Dazai Osamu was given an inch, he always strove to take a mile.

"Kunikida-kun is going to kill you when we get back, Dazai." You scolded your husband sitting at your side. But when you turned to him, attempting to pin him down with a look, you just couldn't help the sides of your lips curling into a smile. "Like — actually kill you, this time."

Dazai rolled his head, humming a musical sound. "To have my life ended under the cold, bony hands of an Idealist. How could you even speak those words, my love?"

"Only you would find a way to convince the President that a week away in Okinawa would be good for two of his agents. Paid all inclusively, too. What did you call it?" You quirked an eyebrow. "Sand resistance and underwater training?"

The briny sea air teased at his loose shirt and wild, unkempt curls, making him look like a divinity — a mythical creature of the ocean. Both of you sat side by side on the coast's cool sands; sipping from a bottle of sake, watching the sunset bleed the sky into twilight. After spending the day full of adventurous activities; wandering nature trails, stopping for a late-afternoon lunch under the canopy of marine trees, only to take each other by the hand and venture through the Churaumi aquarium's glass blue halls — you both had been content to cuddle up and watch the stars, that evening. Listening to the lull of the sea, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Dazai cocked his head in that funny little way he always did. "Is that not what we're doing?"

"Of course," You agreed, and then leaned over to poke the tip of his nose. His surprised little blink almost had your heart melting into a puddle. "And tomorrow, I expect you up bright and early, because we have an extra strenuous day of whale watching to attend."

Dazai leaned in, as if you were both sharing a secret, and touched his warm forehead against yours. It made your pulse flutter; the shade of his eyes, so complex when he was this close. They softened into something a lot more sultry. "Hmm? Whale watching? I was under the impression our schedule was already taken up tomorrow, though."

"Oh?" You smiled, your breath mingling. "Do divulge me, Osamu."

That was when he went for you. Pouncing with the agility of a leopard, a beast, until he had pulled you against his lean body and you were both rolling around in the sand — shrieking and chuckling.

"I am to accompany my beautiful princess bride on a mission that could mean life or death! World dominion or forever peace! The very nature of things hangs in the balance and I have the key to it, right in my very hands!"

"Osamu—you're—!" You chortled. "Stop! You'll get sand in my ears!"

He brought your rolling bodies to a halt with you laying flush against him. There was mirth dancing in his eyes, his face — looking at you like he was a teenager in love for the very first time. He pouted playfully.

"You don't want to hear my master plan to save the world?"

"You just don't want to go whale watching."

"Hmm~" He purred, and you felt those long fingers begin to trail up your thighs — so sensitive, almost completely bare to him underneath the cotton beach skirt you wore. They drew languid, mind-numbing circles that traced a picture of fire from your thighs, the small back, your thighs again. You found yourself arching back instinctively into them.

Dazai craned his neck up then — just so he could trail his lips against the shell of your ear and whisper, "Because I am much more inclined to hear someone else moan for me all day, instead."

The last of his words were accompanied with his palms coming down on your ass, squeezing possessively — the shock of it lurching you forward a little. You gasped, and he revelled in it. You could see it in the way his tawny eyes darkened into a promising mahogany. Whenever Dazai looked at you like that, it eddied any and all coherent thoughts from your mind. Just like the first time you met him, the second, the millionth, you'd never tire from marvelling in your husband's beauty. Both on his gorgeous face and inside his well-protected soul.

You just had to peel back each and every layer he had learned to build up until you coaxed it out. But you would wait — for him, you would wait a lifetime.

Chuckling a heady sound, you leaned down, ghosting your lips over his parted ones. When he shifted up to try and connect your mouths together — you were mean. You pulled just out of his reach, grinning a wicked, vixen-like smile.

"All day?" You challenged. "But—oh—!"

A yelp tore from your throat when Dazai startled you by surging foreword and rolling until you were beneath him; trapped underneath his long, caging arms. His bangs tickled your face when he pitched forward to arrest you in his intense stare. Holding so much weight, so much promise, that it sent a thousand sparks of pleasure racing from the crown of your head right to the tips of your toes.

"Every day, my beautiful wife."

You didn't think either of you could wait until then.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 . . .

After the rather formal affair that was you and Kunikida Doppo's wedding; a honeymoon was far removed from your mind. So you were surprised, when your new husband approached you one morning, two long-distance train tickets held firmly in his grip. The ledgers are already taken care of, he had assured you when protests rose on your tongue, you needn't worry. There is enough staff to cover our absence.

There was something — something fiercely intense in his eyes when he had said those words, too. Of course, your husband Kunikida Doppo was a fierce man by nature; it was one of the many things you had learned to love about him. But then, you had been unable to place the heat in his eyes, the way his body strained towards you — as if holding some monstrous part of himself back.

You had been unable to place it — that was, until now.

His naked body stalked around the foot of the bed — soft, buttery light throwing all of his defined muscles into focus. The curtains of this private suite were decorated with cotton and cashmere, letting as much natural light into the room as possible while still offering you two some privacy. In fact, one of the drapes from your bathroom window were missing — but that was because it had been wound tightly around your wrists, pinning you to the headboard.

"One hundred and forty-five." Kunikida spoke suddenly.

Through your lust addled mind, you tried to parse his words. Your brows came down over confused eyes. "W-What?"

He stopped, snapping his Ideal book closed in one hand. And when he turned towards you — God, your tongue pasted to the roof of your mouth. He was marvellous. He was breath-taking — his blond hair let loose around his shoulders, the length of him standing stiff and erect for you to see.

"One hundred and forty-five," He repeated. The mattress dipped when he leaned one knee against it, then the other. "That is the amount of days which have passed since I had the first indecent thought about you."

He might as well already be touching you — the way those words instructed a shiver to race down your bare skin. Kunikida pitched forward so he was on all fours now — and with savouring slowness, he began to crawl towards you.

"O-Oh?" Was the only coherent thing you could get out. Your eyes darted all over him, you tried to rub your thighs together to garner some type of friction since he was so adamant to tease you. Kunikida's quick-silver eyes noticed the movement, however, and reached a large hand out. He flattened it on the bare skin of your thigh; a silent command for you to be still.

Frustrated, you levelled a heated glare at him, huffing, "This is no way to treat your new wife."

"Believe me," Kunikida's tone was controlled — always controlled, but you delighted in the fact that his lips twitched into a smile. "I have every intention of treating my wife very well, indeed."

Your breasts strained taut when he came to settle himself just over you and leaned up — bracketing your hips with those strong thighs. Ever since he had gotten your clothes off; Kunikida Doppo could not stop himself from just looking at you. An extremely controlling part of him was overcome with the mind-consuming urge to lock you up and keep you all for himself. But he knew he could not do that. So here he would revel, every moment he could, in you flushed and bare beneath him. Begging him with your eyes to touch you, to relieve that ache only he had caused.

Shit, Kunikida Doppo thought when he looked down at you, he'd pay only the finest artist to paint you like this. But then he'd have to rip their damn hand off.

He reached a hand out to trail it against your twitching tummy muscles. The hand which brandished that newly crafted gold band.

"It was exactly 11:48am, Tuesday the 7th," Kunikida murmured in a deep, throaty voice. His eyes glazed over as he trailed his fingers all over you — from your naval to your breastbone to letting them dance across the planes of your face. "When you walked into the main office with a large stack of reports a certain someone has been slackin' on. You bent over — in that tight little skirt you always wear," He inhaled, dragging your bottom lip gently with his thumb. "And I was overcome."

"O-Overcome?" You echoed. If he kept this up, you were very certain your new husband would make your heart burst out of your chest. You burned, you needed him like your air, like the blood roaring in your ears.

Kunikida leaned in close enough until he was all you could see. He dropped his voice, and the words rumbled out of his chest.

"Overcome with the need to bend you against the table and fuck you, right then and there."

A small whimper climbed up your throat. Like a butterfly, caught and pinned against a board, you fluttered restlessly beneath him. Kunikida placed the softest kisses against your skin; but you could feel the tension that tremored underneath his marble skin. He was taking his time. He was adamant to keep you here for as long as possible just to savour you, over and over again.

And you were more than willing to oblige.

"And now," You whispered, hot and needy, against him. "You have me right where you want me, Kunikida."

Your husband groaned and began to roll his hips against you — absolutely unable to help himself when you said those words. Gasping, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you were barely lucid enough to hear him growl out the words;

"And you'll always have me at your mercy, darling."

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 . . .

You and Atsushi had decided to get married under the gentle blossoms of springtime, but it had always been your dream to escape on a winter's honeymoon. Of course, when you broached the topic with him a couple of weeks before the ceremony, Atsushi took some time to gradually warm to the idea. He had never been out of the country, after all, and the thought of boarding a metal tube that soared thousands of feet in the air definitely did not appeal to his feline side.

"It's... so it doesn't stop off, somewhere?" He had asked you with those adorable wide eyes. "What if I need to pee?"

His country naivety was all too amusing to you — a warm grin brightened your face, and to stifle the chuckle, you buried into his silver hair, instead.

"There are toilets on the plane. And refreshments, and seats." You replied to him. "Besides, there'd be nowhere for us to stop off. We'd have to cross over the ocean, after all."

"T-The ocean?!"

The Harbin Ice and Snow festival held its open ceremony a few months after you and Atsushi's marriage, but once you got there, you knew it had been well worth the wait. The city was crafted with ice structures and snowy castles, illuminated by floodlights that coloured them all different shades. Both bundled in layers, you and your husband walked side-by-side through them, warming the other's hand. Atsushi bought you a delicious hot chocolate to share, and never missed the chance to kiss the cream off of your face.

"I have no idea how you're not wearing gloves," You said to him one evening as you strolled around the resort. From here, the blanketed mountains stood stark against the night sky, littered with evergreen trees. Each step you took crunched the snow beneath you.

"Ah," Atsushi piqued. He then lifted his hands to show them to you, and when you inspected them closer; you noticed that he had coated them in a thick layer of tiger fur. "Ta-dah!"

The funny sight caught you so off guard that you doubled over giggling. "What a convenient talent. I wish I could do that when I get cold!"

"You know I would if I could," He said, the warm sincerity of it coming to hug around you like your very own blanket. "But there's something that I can do."

"Oh?" You leaned up to regard your new husband — only to realise that he was no longer by your side. Instead, he had taken a few strides ahead, leaning forward onto all fours in that familiar position he took before an ability activation. Whoosh, the snow whipped up to bite your cheeks, the entire landscape was drowned out in the supernatural blue light as he shifted from man to beast.

The bands of light exploded to leave him in their remnants — only bigger, furrier, and so much more deadly. Not an ounce of fear touched your body, however — because even though standing in his place was a monstrous weretiger that prowled towards you; those were still Atsushi's eyes. The tender bump he gave you with his head still belonged to the person who had Atsushi's soul — your Atsushi.

You carded your fingers lovingly through his coat. "Hello, there." You murmured, taking his big head in your hands and scratching behind his ears. "What brings you here, Mr. Weretiger?"

Atsushi's honey-gold eyes held yours for a moment. Then, he made a swishing movement with his head — an indication for you to follow. You knitted your eyebrows, initially confused at what he wanted when he couldn't use human speech — but when he lay down in the snow and made his back easier for you to reach, you suddenly realised.

"Oh, okay." You hummed, manoeuvring to the side of his massive body and hiking your leg up. Shifting, you found a comfortable sitting position on his back. But not before you cuddled into his soft fur a little. "You are so warm, no wonder you don't need gloves."

His great big lungs reverberated when he spoke something you couldn't understand. Atsushi padded the snow — an indication that he was going to move, letting you know to hold on tight — before straightening up to his full height.

Then, he was running.

Galloping through the snow scape like you weighed absolutely nothing at all — the wind ripping through your hair, smattering your cheeks in little flecks of snowflakes. You gripped on tight to his coat, feeling the wild rush of adrenaline spike in your blood. His great big paws ate up the distance with agility, with grace. As easy and breathing for him in this form. You held on tight to your husband's body when he hopped from rock to rock, from tree to tree, taking you through your very own winter wonderland on a night you'd never forget.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

After the unholy shitshow — as your husband eloquently puts it — that was your wedding reception, it was safe to assume that Chuuya Nakahara was adamant to get out of the country in order to spend a few days alone with you. Somewhere extremely far away. And what better place was there, than the classy city of romance and wine?

He had been cunning in the preparations, refusing to reveal anything until it was the evening you scheduled to fly out on one of the Port Mafia's private air jets. Sure; the plane had been in regular use to smuggle large shipments of drugs across the Japanese border, but Chuuya had gone to touching lengths in order to make it special for you.

The inside was completely cleaned out and lavished with first-class opulence. When you stood in the hanger, suitcase in tow, you couldn't believe how beautiful he had made it look. And when he handed you a flute of fizzing champagne before boarding, he pulled you in by the waist; kissed you on the cheek, and said, are ya ready to see the real Eiffel Tower, sweetheart?

The sheer beauty of Paris was all you needed to make up for the long-haul flight over. Each building towered above you; beige stonework, panelled windows, the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee in the air. Chuuya walked with his hand on your back through the winding cobblestone walkways. He did not complain once when you spent hours busying around the shopping district La Vallée, gushing at all the quaint boutiques and bakeries. He bought as many pastries as your heart so desired. And on your last night, he told you to wear your finest dress, and took you on a boat ride around the city.

"This mustn't have been good for your bank account," You pouted, leaning over the side of the boat to admire the glossy river water. "Even for you."

Chuuya popped a piece of steak into his mouth. One eyebrow quirked. "I thought I told ya never to worry about money when you're with me, doll. Even more so now that you're my wife."

My wife, you closed your eyes, savouring the sound of it wearing his voice like the meal in front of you. It still sounded so foreign — a little out of place, when you had just gotten used to being to as the General's fiancée. When you opened your eyes, you allowed yourself a few seconds to marvel at the man who worked to make all your desires come true — and not because he had to, but because he wanted to, he loved to.

Chuuya's blue eyes twinkled underneath the fairy lights that hung from the boat's canopy. "What?"

You beckoned to all the other empty seats around you. "How did you manage to rent an entire boat for just the two of us, though?"

At that, your husband's lips lifted into a wide, vulpine smile. The type that made delicious heat lick down your spine.

"Do ya object to being on this big boat all alone with me, sweetheart?"

The heat cascading down your spine spread its fingers — until it was all over you, reaching the tips of your cheeks, the skin of your chest left exposed by the open dress. You swallowed, not breaking the eye contact, and placed your fork down with very precise movements.

You purposefully flicked your hair behind your shoulder — exposing your collarbone, the long column of your neck.

"Quite the contrary, my beautiful husband. In fact, I think the rocking could make riding you senseless feel extra good, if that was even possible."

There was a heartbeat where Chuuya didn't move. And then, the table was knocked to one side, there was a harsh clatter of metal and plates and his chair scraping against the deck when he surged for you.

You shrieked in delight when you felt his hands on your hips — hoisting you swiftly from the terrace chair and into his arms. Guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, you were held securely against him, looping your arms around his neck as he made quick work of the ships decking and down the stairs into your private bedroom.

When you both resurfaced onto the deck for some fresh air, you were blissfully unaware that the sun had risen and it had already become morning — but the crewmates definitely were.

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 (𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎 . . .

When your newly-wed husband Ranpo Edogawa pitched the idea of a honeymoon in Tokyo; initially, you were quite sceptical. Tokyo was a city packed with people and, God forbid; a very advanced transport system. Whatever could your particular partner want in the bustling capital of your country?

Roller-coaster rides and donuts and mickey mouse ears, apparently.

He was such a child at heart, you thought fondly as you watched him flutter around the food stalls at Tokyo's Disneyland Resort, pointing at all the colourful sweets he wanted to try. You suppose Ranpo never really had the opportunity to have a childhood; being hunted for his mind and hopping from job to job just to survive before he met the President. And you cherished that part of him. Your heart grew twice its size when he returned to you, a chest-full of of packaged goods and two sticks of candyfloss.

"According to my Deductions," Your husband boasted, thrusting the candy floss out to you. "Poo's Honey Hunt is the next attraction which will have the least amount of waiting time."

You took your candyfloss carefully from him. "Of course. Although do you think it's a good idea to go riding when you have a stomach full of sweets, Ranpo?"

He leaned back and guffawed. "Pwah! Nothing is impossible for the World's Greatest Detective!"

It turned out that spinning in a plastic honey pot one too many times was a little too much for the World's Greatest Detective, after all. You rubbed soothing circles against your husband's back and held his cape out of the way as he upheaved into a colourful trashcan the moment he stepped off of the ride. You hushed anything he tried to say, instead guiding him to sit with you by the riverside — watching the fairy tale boats float on by until the nausea subsided.

A bottle of water and a handful of pastries later; Ranpo Edogawa was right back on his feet again, dragging you by the hand to the next attraction with excited, skipping steps.

And when the sun dipped low behind the bright pink castle that was a landmark to the grounds and the sky darkened into twilight, your forever partner guided you across a beautiful bridge closed off to the public for the rest of the evening. Of course, you scolded him with each step, telling him that this would get you both in a world of trouble. Only for him to turn around and wink, assuring, the stewards only patrol this area of the park every quarter of an hour. We have at least twenty minutes until anybody will be near this area again.

"Ranpo, darling, I love you," You said to him, stepping over the foliage and onto the bridge painted with bright gold — mimicking those found in story books. "But if we get fined for this, I am taking away all of your sweet stash for at least a month."

He twirled around to face you when you came to a stop in the centre of the bridge; his hands folded behind his back. His tongue stuck out. "Boo. You wouldn't be able to figure out the code."

"You doubt the mind of a wife who is angry." You cooed, but were completely unable to help the smile that tickled your lips. You were like two schoolkids; sneaking around in a no-trespass area trying not to get caught. Although you didn't understand the entire reason as to why you were stalking around a closed area of the park late at night.

You decided to question him, tilting your head. "Remind me, why is it that we're slinking around Tinkerbell's Garden and running the risk of getting caught, again?"

Your question was left hanging when Ranpo decided to keep his lips shut. Instead, he lifted three fingers up in the air. You watched with knitted brows as he brought down one — leaving two left. Then, brought down the other. And just as he let the final finger close into his fist, there was a shrill whistle, a tail of sparks flying through the night—

BOOM!

The most brilliant firework exploded in the sky.

You gasped, turning to look above the canopy that hid you both. Boom, there was another — a brilliant explosion of red and yellow. Boom, boom, two at the same time. You were arrested in place, marvelling at the light show that sent a thousand sparkles reflecting in your eyes.

Warmth. Skin. Ranpo's hand coming to intertwine with yours. His soft lips ghosting your temple, whispering the words so sweet;

"They're almost just as beautiful as you, my wonderful wife."

ღ . . . the bsd men ON THEIR WEDDING DAY

✎ . . . requested by wonderful nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

383 notes · View notes