well, this is… likely unnecessary lol, since I don’t interact with anyone on here anymore (my fault for sure 🤡), but still there’s something pushing me to do this, so, here goes
it pains me to say, but this blog will no longer be active, as I’ve decided to move to a brand new one where i hope I can enjoy being on this app, and enjoy reading and not feeling like shit.
this blog has long stopped feeling like my safe space, my cozy/messy little reading corner, and… idk, I’m kind of in a funk right now that has left me feeling like… I’m not welcome here??? which is weird but I’ve been told those are remnants of my past so 🤡 we love that feeling 🤡 n e ways, the queue will still be running, everything will still be up since I don’t have the patience to actually transfer everything into my new blog, so maybe I’ll occasionally pop in… but that’s doubtful. if by any chance anyone reads this (and this far lol) and wants to follow me on my new blog, feel free to comment and I’ll be sure to send you the url :)
I’ll always be thankful for the people I met here and for being nice despite my awkwardness, and for making me come back here even when I felt like I didn’t deserve to.
You let out a sigh, and turn in your seat to look him in the eye, and the dragonborn prince's self-introduction immediately halts.
"You don't have to announce yourself every time you show up."
Malleus blinks two times in succession, then nods. It's a blunt statement, but he's always appreciated your honesty, especially when it's accompanied with a smile to soften the blow.
"I was coming from behind and wanted to take the utmost precaution," he explains. You know why he does it, and you understand, but you shake your head. It means he's not understanding you.
Even now, Malleus is slightly hunched over now as he talks to you, as though he is trying to make himself smaller and slightly more palatable. Although he is tall, it is not as though you must crane your neck in a way that is intolerable to speak to him.
"This is a library," you point out, then playfully press a finger to your lips in a pretend 'shh' sound.
"Yes, but..." he trails off. You have a point. This is a quiet space, and-
"You will never frighten me. No matter how hard you try," you remind him. You aim to pick up your scattered textbooks from the desk as you rise to your feet but Malleus gets to them first. He's dreadfully good at that, wanting to touch things that are yours, to inspect them as though he'll hoard them away like his kind are fabled to.
"Surely if I really tried I might be successful," he insists. A free hand hangs by his side, and you take it, intertwining your fingers with his.
"Perhaps another human. Not me."
You walk and Malleus ponders. He's always been aware of your inability to fear him from the moment you met him, perhaps due to ignorance, perhaps due to foolishness or maybe an unnatural lack of self-preservation. Maybe you were born without an amygdala, he's asked himself before.
There had to be something to explain it. You were the first person who lacked the self-preservatory instinct to run upon first seeing him.
His hand squeezes yours tighter as you walk. You stop, and turn to him. He smiles down at you, then presses a kiss to your forehead.
"I like that about you," he says plainly.
Your eyelids flutter suddenly. The earnestness in his voice is somewhat disarming, and you wonder if he's heard something more impactful in the past few minutes that you didn't actually say.
"That I'm not afraid of you?"
"Yes."
You laugh.
"Malleus, you're not scary."
His smile widens.
"Say it again."
You raise an eyebrow. "You're not scary?"
He pulls your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it, then grins even wider.
"Say it one more time."
Now you start to laugh.
"You're not the least bit scary and never will be. You're cute and silly and very fun to be around."
You pat his cheeks affectionately twice, and his heart swells with a feeling he was never familiar with until he met you. Something reserved for those that are not the stuff of nightmares. That don't wield immense power. That are the first to get invited to parties and are not avoided in dimly lit corridors.
No, cause let’s talk about the virgins tired of being virgins.
My personal favorite is that Oikawa has never gotten any type of close with a girl because of the sheer amount of bitches he has around him
(Also, I stumbled across your blog and I think I’m in love??? Please say you’re not taken 👏🏼)
ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴍ 🗣️ : anon, babe, forgive me for getting to this so astronomically late. BUT now that I'm here, let's talk about it 🤭 Oikawa is a hoe in theory, not practice. And I am more than happy to elaborate.
ᴄᴡ: virginity loss (male), afab reader, light praise. not proofread so be nice.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 1k+
Humor me for a minute. Imagine what it'd be like to take THE Tooru Oikawa’s virginity. To be his first, if you will. He'd try to be really smooth about it. Using his flirtatious nature to cover up the fact that he's inexperienced when it comes to being intimate. And who, honestly, would doubt or question his validity?
The volleyball player is far from short on potential sexual partners. Throngs of fangirls practically throw themselves at his feet, hoping to land on his radar for just one chance. And like any good idol, he gives his adoring fans what they wish and pray for.
Pandering to his female fans by addressing them as “his girls”, giving hugs instead of handshakes at fan meet-ups, and playful flirty banter to appear more personal and within reach. No one who’s ever interacted with him would get the impression that he’s a “virgin”.
To say he had you fooled would be quite the understatement. And to say you were pleasantly surprised to be the one to find out would be an even greater one.
You stare down at where your bodies would soon connect, your hand gently leading his member to align with your entrance. Oikawa's bangs tickled your forehead as he watched, his breaths gradually getting shorter out of what you could only assume was anticipation. “Are you ready?” you ask, looking up at the brunette through your lashes.
He nods slightly, breathing out an airy ‘yes’. You felt your heart skip in your chest, the way he answered catching you off guard. It felt surreal guiding the reputed womanizer through his first time and seeing him like this. Meek, breathless, desperate. How lucky you were to have this opportunity.
“Okay,” you whisper, taking a deep breath before leading his cock into your welcoming walls, using your legs to gradually pull him in. Oikawa inhales sharply from the new sensation, quietly muttering to himself as he sinks inch by inch into you.
You lay still when Oikawa bottoms out, allowing him a moment to adjust to each other’s bodies. “How does it feel?” you ask, your hands coming up to cup his face. His cheeks were warm in the palm of your hands, ears hot against the pads of your fingers. He’s breathy when he responds, brown eyes misty as he looks at you. “Good...Really good,” he mutters, his collarbone peaking through with each breath he took. “Can I?” he paused, voice breathy and barely above a whisper, afraid to appear too eager. He looks like he’s close to tears, eyes glassy against his flushed skin. You peered back into those warm eyes, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks as you nodded.
Oikawa swallows and fixes his hands to your hips. You felt him move backward, his cock dragging against your walls. He starts slowly, his hips rocking in a steady back-and-forth motion. Soft groans and hushed curses sounded from the boy as he relaxed, less rigid and more confident.
Your eyes fluttered shut, lip caught between your teeth as you let Oikawa use your cunt to find a comfortable pace he could build on. Gradually, his movements quickened. His thrusts became less tentative and more precise, hitting faster and deeper every time his hips connected with yours. You gasped quietly, your eyes snapping open upon Oikawa’s (frankly unexpected) new pace.
Your breaths start to quicken as pleasure slowly builds in your core. “Yeah, keep going,” you moan. Oikawa huffs out some sort of acknowledgment as he continues to drill into your tight walls. You vocalized your pleasure loudly, praising the brunette for how well he was doing. And in such a short amount of time for someone who claimed they were inexperienced.
For a moment, you wondered if the pro volleyball player was lying about his virginity. Maybe he was using it as a type of ploy to garner sympathy from his fans.
But the thought went as soon as it came. Your attention was brought back with a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, your hips bucking in response. You gasped before it was quickly replaced with a loud moan, your hands gripping the pillows behind you. Oikawa groans above you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hip.
Any timidity that he previously had was now long gone. He thrust into you with a new found confidence. Or maybe it was just pure lust and pleasure that drove him. You went into this fully expecting not to orgasm, but the virgin boy proved not to be underestimated.
You couldn’t help but rain praises down on the brunette, his performance truly commendable.. ‘Yes ! Just like that’ and ‘You’re doing so good’ falling freely from your lips as the coil in your abdomen steadily wound up. Oikawa threw his head back with a loud moan before looking back at you with hazy chocolate eyes. “Gonna cum…Fuck, I’m cumming,” he manages to choke out, squeezing his eyes shut as he nears his end. You moan in time with his frantic thrusts, yeses ringing throughout the room like a mantra.
His cock twitched with such intensity you swore you could feel every vein on his cock, even through the latex barrier he wore. You reach climax first, your cunt fluttering around Oikawa. He pumped into your walls once, twice, three times before his hips suddenly stilled. Oikawa gasped loudly, an equally loud and drawn out moan filling in any possible silence within the room. You felt his load steadily fill the condom, the faintest traces of warmth within your walls. Every twitch of his cock added to the feeling of (technical) fullness, and you were almost certain that he’d spill out of it if he kept cumming like this.
Oikawa collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding against your shoulder. You smiled a bit, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair. He chuckled breathlessly, propping himself up to look at you.
“So,” he smiled, a smirk tugging on his features, “Did I earn the title of womanizer?” Oikawa’s expression was light and playful, not taking himself too seriously and well aware of his reputation as a “lady-killer”. You giggled, shaking your head lightly.
“Almost. Still gotta teach you a few things before then.”
Bo who just can’t stand it when you wear those short skirts out with him, the ones that barely cover your ass and expose your juicy thighs and pretty legs. You’re on the crowded train with him and you’re pressed against the door looking out on the city and he’s breathing heavily on the back of your neck while his hard cock grinds itself on your ass forcing the fabric between your cheeks giving you a cute wedgie.
He’d probably whimper something like ‘you look so good, please? can’t wait..” into your ear, you’d only giggle and pull your cute panties aside and tell him yes on the condition that he needs to fuck you and cum before you reach the next stop.
He agrees and slips himself in desperately rutting hips against yours, he hears the train conductor mention the next stop approaching and it has you arching your back grinding your ass backwards meeting his thrusts. He pathetically moans out your name, on one particularly rough rock of the train you press up against the door and Bokuto’s hands shakily find your waist as the head of his cock slams against the entrance of your cervix. He lets out a breathy moan as if all the air in his lungs got knocked out of him all at once.
“No- no…gunna cum” he whimpers as his pace quickens making sure the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every pathetic rut of his hips he eventually shakes as he dumps his hot cum into you. As the conductor announces the stop the doors open and people rush on the train separating you and the gray haired owl. You stand in the corner of the train skirt half hiked up your waist and cum dripping down your thighs messily while your clit throbs erratically.
Getting locked out your apartment with Bokuto waiting for your roommate to come down and let you in, he’s so horny whispering “I’ll be quick” and “if we’re fast she won’t know” huskily into your ear while your skirt gets pushed up to expose your panty clad ass to him. You can actively hear your roommate climbing down the first flight of stairs and your panicked but the way he’s hastily pushing your panties down your thighs his slippery pre-cum covered cock thrusting against your ass is so distracting, he lets out tiny whimpers and moans of your name getting off on the grinding of your ass against his painfully stiff cock. You lend him a hand and line his cock up to your cunt allowing him to grip your hips and wildly bucking his hips against your ass creating a wet slapping sound. His cock plunges in and out of you, you can only hold onto the door for dear life praying your friend doesn’t find you getting fucked against the door but part of you hopes you get caught, cunt clenching around his shaft only having him pant on the back of your neck, you shiver at the heated breath hitting your skin. You didn’t hear any foot steps or anything from the other side- head too fuzzy and clouded from the pleasure, he pathetically whines out your name telling you breathlessly that “I’m gunna cum mommy…ngh- mommy! Wanna cum” a careless hand comes to your front rubbing sloppy circles on your clit, the bud throbbing against the his clumsy fingers, he’s so close, he can practically feel the semen running from his balls to the head of his cock ready to bubble over and spill inside you, breeding you just like he always wished he could..until the door opened, and your roommate yawned reprimanding you for being so forgetful, your bodies stilled as you felt a rush of hot cum fill your insides, the male’s head pressed into the back of your neck a poor attempt to suppress his whimpers. You can feel the cum dripping down your thighs and plopping onto the floor, you roommate gives you a one over before shaking her head and walking up the stairs.
he's confident, he knows he is but he can't help but to feel nervous in this moment. he's trying his best to not get excited because of your body. the water falls on your body, making it look so fucking perfect.
"is this okay?" you ask him as you touch his chest with the wash cloth. he's speechless but he manages to nod at you. you wash his body softly, humming a soft tune as you do so. satoru brushes your hair with his hand, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. you deepen the kiss, sighing into his mouth. he presses his eyes shut, knowing that he's slowly getting excited at the intimacy that surrounds you. you giggle when you step on your tiptoes to wash his hair. he wants to beg you to stop, to stop touching him like this. he doesn't want this to turn into something sexual but it's your fault that you're acting like this. it's your fault that your innocent touches make him think of you in a perverted way.
"if you keep touching me like this, im gonna lose my mind."
geto
"here we go." he says as water starts falling on both of you. he takes the washcloth in his hands and he rubs it on your arms. he dreamed so long about washing you like this, being this intimate.
he massages your shoulder before he drags the washcloth down your arms. he throws his head back, letting droplets of water fall on his face. what he feels his wrong, the thoughts he has right now only belong when he's tangled in a bed with you. his hands stop, he knows that now he has to wash your back, the same back that arched few minutes before.
"maybe you can wash me." he offers and you happily take it. you run the washcloth across his chest while geto looks at you with a dark gaze. he wants to curse the god because this way it's even worse. now he can see your body clearly, every curve of your body plus your smiling face.
"i think we can stop it here, i am not that sweaty." he tries to climb out of the shower but you stop him.
"oh baby, you have no idea what you do to me."
nanami
he tells himself he's not like other guys, being naked with you doesn't make him think of you in a different light. but your soft skin, now wet, is glistening just so perfectly.
"can i wash your body?" you ask him while you wash your arms with the wash cloth. your front is right in front of his eyes and he just wishes that you would just turn around.
"i don't think that's a good idea." he says, trying to avert his eyes off of your body. he almost jumps when your soft hand touching his bicep.
"im sorry, i know you didn't want to do this." you apologize, looking sad and it breaks his heart. he puts the wet wash cloth in your hands, pressing it on his chest so that you can wash him. you smile at the gesture, running your hands across his body.
"not there." he squeaks when your hands meet his lower stomach, grabbing them and throwing them over his shoulder.
How would gojo act when his mother loving son DOES grow up, or even better if gojo over here’s his teenaged son telling his mom that he doesn’t think Toni’s good enough for her💀(in a wholesome platonic way obviously)
old man — gojo satoru x f!reader
ᴀ/ɴ: it’s either writer’s block or i am just too busy; I hate it here
gojo doesn’t know whether to be thankful his son turned out this way or whether to despise it.
on one hand, he is now sure there will be someone to protect you when he isn’t around, even if he knows that you are capable and most badass and hot woman his eyes have seen, but who can stop a man from worrying about his wife?
plus it’s amazing to play pranks on everybody with your son.
but, on the other hand, he lives in constant competition with his son for your attention. not a moment can pass without his son trying to butt in.
gojo just came back from a mission and wants a welcome back kiss? no, his son wants to cuddle with his mom right now.
gojo would like to go on a date with you, his beautiful wife, and spend sometime alone? too bad, your son is tagging along. what a nice family outing it has become.
the moments the both of you shared alone were rare, but you enjoyed them to the fullest nonetheless. your son’s clinginess has been more tamed as he grew but he no doubt adores you and he makes sure you know that.
today was yet another where gojo was on a mission overseas, and you had your precious and lovely son to keep you company until he came home.
although he was quite the cheeky and sassy kid, but he had an undeniable soft spot for you and he loved being in your presence, better yet having his hair stroked by you.
something his father also enjoys.
“mom.”
you hum, “yes, honey?”
“why is dad such a loser?” he asks and your hand stops its movement.
noticing that you’re still caught in your initial shock he continues, “he is an old man with white hair and even his students are embarrassed by him; why are you with him?”
“you know your father is just 37, right?”
your son shrugs, “that’s old by my standards.”
“so I am old?” you ask and he shakes his head instantly.
“no, you look younger than him and are a million times prettier than him,” he assures and you smile teasingly.
“picking favorites, aren’t you?”
“I love him too, but it’s just that I am obviously better anyways so that leaves him to be in last place,” but he continues before speak up, “first place being you then second place being me.”
a laugh leaves your lips while your son closes his eyes in concentration for a moment before announcing something, “dad, i know you are there.”
you hear a grunt of pain before someone falls on the ground and you assume it’s your husband, “satoru, is that you?!”
happily, you make your way to him and give him a hug which he gladly returns despite his pain from the box your son threw at him using his energy, “hey honey,” he softly says with his face buried in your shoulder.
your son watches from the couch with a pout but lets you guys greet each other nonetheless.
“I missed you so much,” satoru says before pressing a big kiss to your cheek and you giggle in return and pat his head which makes him grin.
“me too, ‘toru,” you smile, “but how long have you been here?”
his grin immediately turns into a pout at that and you can see his eyebrows furrow, “long enough to hear the words of my ruthless son,” he half-heartedly glares at him.
the boy rolls his eyes before walking to his dad and looking up at him, “hey old man.”
“I am not old, you sassy teenager!” your husband argues and your son smirks but it drops as soon as he sees his dad smirk as well, who puts a hand on his son’s head to ruffle his hair, “speaking of which, I don’t think you want your mom to know about—“
“ALRIGHT!” the boy covers satoru’s mouth and looks at him with a nervous smile, “D-DAD YOU MUST BE TIRED; GO CHANGE!”
“what did you not want me to know about?” you ask and your son looks horrified.
satoru pats his son’s head one last time before going upstairs but not without giving you a kiss on the lips.
“N-NOTHING!” he hears his son scream and satoru smirks, the evil one has fallen.
a/n: don’t worry I will post my own “GOJO IS BACK” drabble later but let’s have some husband + dad sukuna first
“you.”
“y-yes, my lord?”
“where is y/n?”
“in the m-main bedroom, my lord.”
“hm,” sukuna hums as he walks towards the bedroom. he hears squealing, giggling, and cackling from the inside.
just what the hell is being done in his bedroom?
raising an eyebrow, he kicks the door open to reveal both you and his son jumping on the queen sized bed you both sleep on.
“little bunny foo foo jumping through the forest!” you sing and your son giggles, jumping to your rhythm. you take notice of your husband’s arrival and leap at him, “welcome home!”
he is annoyed, but he catches you with a grunt, nonetheless.
“what’re you doing jumping on the bed I made the servants make especially for us so it suits your peculiar tastes?” he grumbles.
you shrug with a smile, “our dear son wanted some time to unwind and who am I to say no to him?”
“you’re his mother. you should have more resistance to his ‘cuteness’ than this; he will grow up to be a king,” he concludes and your son ignores him, still jumping on the bed.
you giggle, “and that’s why I am the fun parent, my dear husband,” you sigh softly and pull him down to press a kiss on his cheek, “I missed you.”
“do it properly,” he says and pulls you up to him and presses a scandalous kiss on your lips. you smack his shoulder lightly after he lets go and he merely chuckles.
“stop doing that in front of our son!”
sukuna smirks and you simply roll your eyes.
“mommy, look I am flying!”
“yes I know, sweetie; that’s awesome!”
“mommy, look I am a superhero!”
“I know, love; you’re the best superhero,” coo at your son who is still jumping on the bed.
your husband just looks at him and wonders how the hell does he get the energy.
personally, you have no idea, but something tells you it’s the genetics from your dear husband who is also the king of curses.
sukuna huffs and pulls you by the waist to him, “you keep spoiling him, but you neglect me?”
“I spoil you both and you know it.”
“do you now?” he challenges and you look at him blankly.
“sukuna, i need to go to work,” you mumble.
“no.”
“no?”
he pulls you closer and nods, “you will stay here til I have had enough of you.”
“BUT YOU NEVER HAVE ENOUGH AND I CAN’T STAY CUDDLING WITH YOU! WHAT ABOUT MY JOB?!”
“you’re married to the king of curses; that’s the last thing you should be worried about,” he deadpans.
“that has nothing to do with spoiling me; you’re just weak-willed,” he grins and you think that, maybe, kicking him in the nuts won’t be so bad.
your son can live without sibling; it will be okay.
you quip, “then how about the time I got you breakfast in bed?”
“the chef was the one cooked it; you only delivered it to my room.”
“why don’t you believe that I cooked it?”
“cause your cooking is awful; it’s probably the only thing close to a poison that could actually kill me.”
you and your son gasp, but your son is the one to retort to his father, “mommy cooked it all by herself! you ungrateful old man!”
you’re about to scold your son to not insult his father but to your surprise, your husband is one step ahead of you.
however, you would’ve preferred if he didn’t even act cause the moron pushed your son off the bed.
your son screams before falling off and hitting the ground in a way that was far from harmless. slowly, his cries grow and he starts wailing and sobbing.
sukuna smirks, “no more monkeys jumping on the bed.”
you look up from the handful of tulips you’re binding with twine to meet reo’s expectant gaze.
“no.”
“come on,” he grins, taking the bouquet and placing it with the others. “we eat together all the time. in fact, we’ve already shared one morning coffee and one afternoon picnic. that’s basically two dates.”
“you mean the morning you brought me an overpriced coffee and the afternoon you almost fought a pigeon over french fries in front of my flowers?”
he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement, nodding fervently. “yeah. we’ve covered morning and afternoon. the next natural course of action is to have dinner together.”
he must read the hesitation in your expression, placing a hand over yours. electricity zips through your veins, but you don’t pull away.
“hey, no pressure. no expectations,” he tells you softly. “just think of it as dinner between friends.”
“can i at least think about it?”
“of course.” he checks his watch. “you have about ten hours to decide because i kind of already made a reservation.”
of course he did. because for all of your banter, he knows you could never say no to him.
“okay, fine, i’ll go out with you. but only because you’re cute when you beg.” you decide, rolling your eyes when he does a quick fist pump.
“i am cute, thank you. and i know i said to think of it as dinner between friends, but if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to kiss me, you have my complete consent.”
“go to work, reo,” you laugh, gently pushing his shoulder.
“i’ll text you the details!”
_____
reo isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. he’s always been great at first dates– better than average, some might say. but something’s different this time around. maybe it’s the restaurant’s lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s his first date with you.
he’d come a little early and ordered a bottle of wine, knee bouncing under the table as he scrolled through his phone in an attempt to chase his nerves away.
thankfully it’s not long before he spots the hostess leading you to the table (a few more minutes and he certainly would have spiraled). he’s quick to stand, walking around the table to greet you.
“hi,” he says, handing you a bouquet of roses before pulling your seat out for you.
“these are beautiful, thank you,” you say, reo beaming as you gingerly hug the blooms to your chest.
once you’re both seated, he sneaks a glance at you before opening his menu. you look a little nervous, restlessly shifting in your chair and shifting your gaze around the room.
“i’m sorry,” you blurt, curling in on yourself as if you’re embarrassed. “this place is– i probably should have googled it first. i’m so underdressed, i feel like everyone’s looking at me...”
“of course they’re all looking at you. you’re the prettiest person in the room.”
(and, oh man, the way you look at him when he says that…it was like being bathed in soft sunshine. he could sit there and bask in it all day.)
but you lift your menu to hide your bashful expression and reo reaches across the table to pour you a bottle of wine, just to give himself something to do with his hands.
“everything’s so expensive,” you murmur.
the restaurant he’d chosen was one he was familiar with, customary for business meetings. he supposed it was on the higher end of the price range, but it only added to his ability to impress.
money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a nice dinner and a pretty good bottle of wine.
“i asked you out, i’m paying.”
“we can just split it–”
“it’s fine,” he waves off. “but if you insist, you can just cover the next one.”
you look up from your menu, amused. “we just sat down and you’re already asking me on a second date?”
he meets your gaze, grinning. “can you blame me?”
_____
despite the initial shock you’d received upon entering the restaurant, you slowly feel yourself begun to loosen up. maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that reo is…admittedly a really good date.
(not just because he’s nice to look at, in a nice shirt with the two topmost buttons undone and trousers that hug his rear perfectly)
as the night wears on, you tell him a bit about yourself. about the things you like to do in your free time, your pet at home, how you ended up running a flower stall in the concrete jungle of downtown tokyo. he listens intently when you talk, asking questions here and there to convey his interest.
though he mostly keeps the conversation focused on you, he tells you about himself too. he talks about the recreational league he plays with on the weekends and the roommate that’s been his best friend since high school. he even talks about the charity gala he’s going to next weekend, representing his family’s business (it’s legit, you can google it! he laughs).
you actually know of the gala he’s talking about. it’s an annual fundraiser, and the order they’d put in at the flower shop you used to work at was one of the most expensive you’d ever seen.
he insists on ordering dessert, the two of you sharing a piece of cheesecake as the night draws to a close. but before it does, you have to ask,
“why did you ask me out?”
he looks at you, seeming genuinely confused by your question. “what do you mean?”
you set your fork down, shrugging. “i’m not really your…type.”
“i have a type?”
“influencers, ceo’s daughters, models…” you say, to list a few.
“you did google me when i was in the bathroom,” he laughs. he doesn’t seem offended, just amused.
you did google him, which is how you know he’s had a string of high profile relationships - and eventual breakups.
“your last date,” you remember. “why didn’t you see her again?”
he takes another bite of the cheesecake, chewing thoughtfully before answering, “nothing was wrong with her. she just weren’t right for me.”
“but i am?”
he pauses, then answers confidently, “i think you might be, yeah.”
“is this the part where you tell me that we’re soulmates?” you tease, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours under the table. you’re trying to maintain a cool composure, but your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.
“no, because i’m a businessman,” he answers, nudging you back. “i believe in free will. when i see an opportunity, i just go for it. i’m not going wait for the universe to decide when i’ll get to be with my one true love.”
“so you believe in the human experience. subjective and objective choices. what about fate?”
“isn’t fate just a result of everyone’s choices? something inevitable, unavoidable.”
“description’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” you counter. “think of it this way, i chose to set up my stall outside the restaurant, but it was fate that you were heading into it that night, which led to me being in this moment with you.”
“one could argue that was just coincidence,” he points out.
“you could. but maybe it was serendipity.”
“now you’re just making up words,” he laughs, prompting you to throw your napkin at him.
then he leans his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin atop them. “to put it simply— i am here right now. it wasn’t some inevitable thing because i chose to be here. with you.”
influencers, ceo’s daughters, models. he could be with anyone else in japan, but he chose to be here with you. at the beginning of the night, you weren’t really sure what to expect from him, judging from your brief encounters at your flower stall. you’d known he was decently charming, sure, but tonight you’re getting the full picture.
and the way he looks at you now…it was like you hung the moon and stars.
“i like when you say it like that,” you admit, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks.
“the philosophy course i took in university is paying off then.”
you’re about to do something completely stupid like kiss him when you realize just how quiet it is in the restaurant. you’d been so distracted, so enamoured with the man in front of you that everything else had blurred into the background.
you lean back to look around. it’s completely empty, save for the waitstaff and hostess.
“did we stay past closing?” you frown, wondering how you’d lost track of time.
“it’s fine,” he assures you, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. “i told you i made a reservation.”
“for the entire restaurant?!”
again, he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement. “what did you think i meant?”
N-need more … zhongli and chubby goddess reader .. or I’ll collapse
*catches you as you’re falling* fret not, anon… you’ve come to the right person for all things Squish related….
fem + chubby reader, an unofficial but totally official continuation to my rex lapis x chubby archon reader from the other day, body worship, and thighfucking below!
rex lapis who summons his darling little goddess of fertility wife with a simple call of your name— after he was gracious enough to take you in and grant you his protection, you quickly decided that being at his beck and call was in your best interest. who would you be to fight him, deny him, or stall him when he awarded you more kindness and graciousness than he’s ever awarded anyone else? when he calls for you, you answer, and now is no different.
you enter the room with a clumsy curtsy, folding your hands in front of you as he flips through a stack of papers. “my beloved,” he says simply, deep amber eyes leaving the contract he’s proofreading and gazing up at you. “come closer.”
“are you coming to bed soon?” you ask sweetly, trying to tread lightly so you don’t accidentally ask any invasive questions about his work. it’s none of your business— you’re not the god of contracts.
he only shakes his head, sighing and setting his papers down. “not anytime within the hour, i’m afraid. there’s much to be done before i meet with that troublesome archon of war tomorrow afternoon.”
you can’t hide your disappointment. you were hoping he’d resign himself to bed early for once so you could invite him to snuggle and hopefully then some. he works so hard— you’d like to take care of your husband even if he’s not generally the affectionate type.
and how he’d like to leave his paperwork for the night and fill his palms with something a little softer and sweeter than the stained, tattered cloth of ancient scrolls and contracts. how he’d like to indulge in the soft, comforting warmth only his wife is able to provide— rex lapis is inclined to believe that you’re hoping to tempt him into bed with the way you’re dressed. how sweet— his demure, flustered little wife wants to rile him up.
your nightgown is sheer enough to easily make out the outline of your areolas through the fabric and tiny enough to catch where it clings to your ample waist and soft belly— is there anything more erotic than seeing the gentle curve of your plump belly visible in your tight pajamas and sheer gowns? he doesn’t believe so.
answering his prior request, you make your way over to his desk. the candlelight coming from his workspace illuminates your body nicely— your husband really can make out the outline of your soft tits through the sheer silk of your nightgown.
“and is this your way of inviting me to bed?” he asks, expression completely neutral. oh, archons— is he going to mock you for such a pitiful attempt? scold you for attempting to interrupt his work? dismiss you with a disappointed sigh and a flick of his wrist? your husband is by no means cruel, but he does tend to be… cold.
“i thought that— it’s not… it’s not like that, i was just… getting comfortable,” you answer in a tiny voice, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown and tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. “is it… no good?”
rex lapis replaces his quill pen in its dish of ink and sets it aside. “apologies, i didn’t mean it like that. it looks lovely on you, truly.”
“thank you, my love.”
rex lapis swallows hard— how do you always manage to be so sweet? how have you lived so many centuries untouched by the sin, wrath, and war every other god hasn’t been able to escape? how do you always manage to chip at his cold exterior?
“come here a moment,” he murmurs, hands settling on your soft waist. the way your body easily gives beneath his hands and allows him to get a good grip on you does more to him than he’d ever admit. soft and easily manipulated like bread dough, warm like a quilt left to dry in the sunlight all day, and more comforting than any of teyvat’s finest luxuries. you allow him to tug you into his lap, your arms shakily wrapping around his shoulders to better balance yourself on his thighs.
“this truly does look lovely on you. shall we go to the harbor tomorrow and purchase more silk to craft you a few more?” rex lapis offers, one of his dark, dully glowing hands sliding up the apex of one of your plump thighs. “perhaps paired with a necklace carved from cor lapis as well.”
his other hand gently maps the curve of your neck and your shoulder, relishing in the way you shiver and breathe his name quietly. you say nothing as he continues to trace your body like he’s drafting a map of liyue, his fingers dipping into the valley of your cleavage before retreating and drawing over the plump swells of your breasts.
“beautiful,” he murmurs contently, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “not a thing in all of teyvat could ever provide a man, mortal or immortal, with the same comfort and security his wife can.”
a hand grabbing at the soft tuft of your lower belly makes you shiver against his thighs, inadvertently rutting yourself against his leg as he gropes a generous handful of your tummy.
“lovely indeed,” he says matter-of-factly, as if he’s confirming a theory. “this softness serves as its own testament to a life of comfort, luxury, and generosity. my hands have long since worn down to callouses and bone from never-ending war and, as i’m sure you’ve noticed, my body is lined with a electric storm of scars after having sustained so many injuries. but you…”
your husband cups the plump heft of your belly in one of his broad palms, soft and undeniably warm against his skin as he massages your tummy with determination. “but you, my dearest… you stand for all the things i’ve fought for all this time. safety, comfort, and prosperity. a body this lovely is no greater proof of that.”
rex lapis cups your waist once more and gently drags you against one of his muscled thighs, sighing in delight in response to your surprised and pleasured moans. oh, he’d just love to eat you up.
“please allow me to continue worshipping your body as any man ought to worship his beloved, my love.”
gorou having a crush on his adorable, thick, soft-spoken professor.... he always blushes deep red whenever she leans down to check on his work from over his shoulder and sometimes her chest just barely brushes against his shoulder on accident and it takes every inch of his willpower to not come in his pants right then and there. he feels bad for staring at her wide hips and ass as she writes something he's most certainly not paying attention to up on the board, but he can't help it... your tight skirts just accent your body so nicely!!
you figure he's just a good, dependable, excitable student happy to learn and work hard in your class-- he always sits in the very front row and is never even a single moment late to class-- so he's one of your favorites and it certainly shows in the warm smiles you give him. he comes to office hours even when he doesn't have a thing to discuss (his good grades are a direct result of all the time he spends studying outside of class to make up for his complete and utter inability to pay attention while in your class) just because he adores seeing you and hearing your voice. it's a good way of pretending like he's sweet and innocent before he goes home and frantically jerks off to the thought of you pressing your tits against his back and cooing in his ear c:
I have archon war rex lapis on the mind tonight so here’s something
Fertility deity darling running to beg for his protecting during the war. It was honestly a stupid idea. Rex Lapis want exactly known to be the kindest individual to people outside of his circle, after all. And really, it’s a miracle that darling was able to gain an audience with him, she had expected to be turned away, laughed at for even attempting any of this. But, for whatever reason, she had actually managed to win his approval and protection.
The reasoning as to why the cruel and unfeeling Rex Lapis took darling under his protection is unknown to all but him. The moment he saw the soft, plump body of his little fertility darling, he knew that he had to have her for himself. Her beautiful little body was just the spitting image of perfection and potential motherhood. Her sudden appearance in his life gave him a new fighting spirit. Winning his seat and then celebrating by pumping his darling full of his seed so he could admire her beautiful body full with his child was all he could think about for a long while.
(Also if you don’t mind, could I be 🍁 anon? Ily juju 🤍🤍🤍)
ALL OF THIS ALL OF THIS ALL OF THIS. MAN have i missed fertility archon darling au.... it's so juicy.... so rich.... so flavorful... like wagyu beef...
fem + chubby reader; it's not super nsfw but there are allusions to breeding and pregnancy. it's the holy trifecta of seakicker sin... chubby reader, breeding, and pregnancy. delicious. also warnings for a pretty obvious power imbalance between reader and zhongli as well as self-deprecation on reader's part.
the idea of a cold and unapproachable morax taking a sweet and nearly impossibly naive goddess reader under his wing is so delicious. he's not sure whether you approached him out of bravery or naiveite, but listening to you talk and beg for his assistance has caused him to believe it's the latter— if your adorable stuttering and inability to look him in the eye as you pleaded for his protection weren't dead giveaways, then your humble confession that you're not much for fighting certainly was. it was almost cute how easily you demeaned yourself in his presence... if it were anyone else, he would assume it's their attempt at flattery and buttering him up, but with you? it's honestly genuine.
when you tearfully confess that you've never fought even a day in your life because you've always stood for peace, prosperity, and love and that you've not once been put in the position to fight, he believes you. it's not your way of pandering to his strength and flattering him, it's a genuine confession of your own weakness that sort of... stirs a sense of pity in him. sweet and weak as you are, it's a rarity that someone comes to him and just honestly shares their desires, fears, feelings, and worries without the underhanded goal of manipulating him into acting a certain way. granted, rex lapis has always been much smarter than the rest of them and he can see the manipulation coming from a mile away, hence his ability to see that you're really being genuine.
how adorable. how sweet. how... innocent.
being granted an audience with rex lapis is no easy task— he's as busy as they come, always up to his eyes in work as preparations for the archon war ramp up. he'll turn those just looking for a bit of mora or a pardon for past crimes away with a shake of his head and a slight scowl; such incidents are well known amongst all the people of liyue and other gods alike. being a lower deity yourself whose influence is restricted to just a single region of liyue rather than all of liyue like him, you'd be lying if you were to say you were expecting him to grant you the opportunity to speak with him— surely he has better things to do than listen to the whinings of a nobody.
after your display of humility and pure anxiety over the days that are sure to come, there was but a moment before rex lapis rose from his throne, descended the shiny golden stairs to meet you, and kneeled down to your position on the floor to tilt your chin up with his fingers. following your desperate plea for his protection, you kneeled and looked down at the floor below amidst your shame and humiliation for asking such a thing of the rex lapis— some could consider it a gesture of respect, as you feel you're undeserving of looking him in the eye, some could consider it a display of submission and resignation before a god leagues and leagues more powerful than yourself, and some could consider it an act of cowardice, too afraid to see the look on his face in response to your request. would he laugh? would he shake his head in a silent request to leave his presence immediately? would he smirk at the pathetic display before him?
his fingers under your chin force you to look him in the eye once more, and there's not an ounce of arrogance or rage on his face. there's not much a hint of any emotion on his face— he's always been renowned for his ability to remain in control of his emotions, and such a talent is both impressive and chilling. you can't tell what he's thinking as he only looks you over, silently admiring the plump apples of your cheeks, the curve of your ample bust, and the span of your soft hips as he helps you rise to your feet once more. truthfully, he's been admiring you since the moment you stepped through those massive stone doors— though lust and desire aren't emotions rex lapis has frequently felt before, nobody could deny the allure of the sweet curves of the most darling little goddess of fertility he's heard so much about. with a soft belly filling out the front of your flowing robes, any man who looks at you is likely to only have one single thing on his mind.
"hold your head high," he whispers simply. "and carry yourself as a goddess ought to. i have heard your request, and i have made my decision."
you tremble under the intensity of his amber gaze, and he releases your chin in favor of crossing his arms over his chest. the way you part your lips to speak before deciding instead to hold your tongue to avoid speaking out of turn is genuinely adorable; you really are as innocent as they seem— he almost wants to think that this is your first day, uh, "on the job" as a goddess because you're just so adorably naive and pliant.
"and i shall grant you my protection."
you knew better than to press him on his decision and ask why he'd even waste his time with someone like you, worried that you may anger or offend him into changing his mind and dismissing you without a second thought. all that matters to you is that you and those who worship you will surely be safe under the protective arm of rex lapis, and all that matters to him is ensuring that the people of liyue will be able to prosper for years and years to come. war ravages people, homes, and livelihoods, and who better to help him eventually repair a war-shattered liyue than the very goddess who stands for prosperity, good harvests, and family life? he'll secure his seat as archon and then immediately get to work on rebuilding liyue with you at the center of his plan— you'll surely bring forth ample livestock, bountiful harvests, healthy children and loving families, and a new era in liyue's history.
a win-win for the history books indeed. you and your people get protection for the rest of your days and rex lapis gets a darling little wife to put an heir in as well as a prosperous liyue.
paimon's random screeches right next to your ear feel distant as you can feel your soul leaving from your body. even lumine isn't sure how to react.
it was definitely a mistake to accompany lumine on her trip back to liyue. especially after meeting this stranger who seems way too eager to make conversation with you for the past week you've met him.
with the best, politest, brightest customer service smile you could muster, you beam at childe.
"no."
lumine gives a comforting pat on the back for the ginger.
.
.
.
"childe, for the last time, stop sending me gifts that cost more than my life!!" you barge into his office with a new set of sapphire jewelry in hand. none of the fatui recruits really blink an eye anymore, used to seeing your presence in the past few days.
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and then pouts with a sound huff.
"is this set still not to your liking? i made sure to chose the best one.."
"best as in the most expensive?"
"...the most beautiful."
"childe i-"
"i said you could call me ajax when we're alone" his frown deepens along with the crease in his brow. you can't lie to yourself when you say that it didn't make your heart twinge with a little guilt.
"....ajax, i don't need you to be sending me all these lavish items." you mutter softly. you notice him flinch a little, before masking it with his normal playful expression.
"ahh... i don't know what to do.." he dramatically sighs. you lift your brow. "i'm sure my face is plenty attractive, and i'm still young all things considered. and my body is up to standards i suppose."
"..?"
"but you're not falling for it!! is my face not your type? or is it my personality? what is your type? i can change to be whatever you like." his rambling causes him to unintentionally lean closer towards you, pressing for answers to his desperate questions. he's close enough that his scent washes over you, pleasantly surprising you.
"what cologne do you wear?" his eye widens in glee. uh oh.
"do you like it? i'll wear it everyday for you." his charms really flow out of him as naturally as he breathes. you shake your head. no. that won't work on you.
"do whatever you want." you place the box of jewelry on his desk. his eyes follow your movement.
"you didn't answer my question."
"yeah it's nice. reminds me of the ocean"
"not that one." your eyes meet his. the eyes that also resemble the ocean that you think of. the one that has gentle swaying waves, a soothing breeze that wisps through the air, soft melodies whispered in the depths of the water. an ocean that brings you comfort like no other.
oh. oh. oh.
in your silence, childe slowly inches his hand towards his rejected gift. snaking the necklace out of its hold, grabbing the clasps.
the cold tingle against your collarbone pulls you back to reality.
"hey stop it. i never accepted it." your words go ignored as you feel his hands fumble to clasp each end together, his gaze tenderly tracing around your face. an overwhelming gaze that you can't get used to with how much emotion you can feel from him. a rare thing.
"just give me a chance. please." his fingers dance around the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your back with how intimate you've let him get with you.
"...fine." you suppose it's alright to indulge in this feeling a little.
the pure joy that radiated off the man in front of you could really blind you.
"really!!!?! no take backs okay?? you swear?? promise me right now!!" his animated words come out quickly, with one of his hands lifted right in front of you with his pinky extended. cute. you extend yours as well and wrap it around his.
"you know what a pinky promise means snezhnaya right?"
"mhm. you make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. you break a pinkie promise, i throw you on the ice. the cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again."
childe thinks you've gotten even prettier in his eyes, only reciting a simple nursery rhyme from his home country makes his heart pound even harder.
"then we can get the rest of this set on with a cute little dress for our date later tonight at wanmin-"
"no."
"what~!! fine, minus the jewelry."
"no."
"why.."
"i don't want to eat at some fancy restaurant."
"...then at my place.?" his face has a light dust of pink on it.
"alright. meet you at 7."
with that, you twist out of his hold (his hand snuck to the small of your back) and walk out of his office. childe is unable to push down the stupid grin that takes over his face throughout the whole day. the fatui recruits shiver at the thought of the maniacal smile that covers his murderous mood that day.
.
.
.
it doesn't take more than a few seconds before you hear a noise barreling at the door, flinging it open before tugging you inside, in a deathly embrace.
"hey!! i'm almost done with the last dish, come with me!!" his excited state pulls you with him barely letting you take off your shoes as you follow his long strides towards the kitchen.
his place his clean, light decor sprinkled around some corners. you see a lot of frames on the wall, with various people in each photo. he must cherish his family.
the air is filled with the aroma of many fragrant dishes foreign to you. childe settles you on a dining chair before rushing towards the stoves. it allows you to see him don an adorable pink apron. you wish you brought your kamera.
"do you need help?"
"no, just sit there prettily and wait for me." he chimes out. you roll your eyes are his comment, but fail to keep your lips from stretching into a smile. your eyes don't leave his form, taking note of how this light makes him look softer, more domestic. you look at the way the muscles of his arm tense with every movement of the pan, the way his fingers expertly sprinkle spices, the way he hums a tune while cooking.
it's a nice view.
"enjoying the view?" his voice is filled with a teasing tone, as his face reads nothing but amusement and mirth.
"no, i'm looking at the food." you scoff, feeling your face heat up. he laughs and turns back to the pan.
eventually he finishes the last dish, and lays everything in front of you. you take note of the lack of ingredients you dislike.
"uh, i didn't know what dishes you like, so i hope you like these. they're some snezhnayian dishes i grew up with.." he's visibly worried, but you quickly quell those thoughts.
"it smells amazing. i want to try them all." he perks up and settles down.
"please, help yourself."
each bite you take makes you delight in the flavors that hit your tongue, your face lighting up with every dish you try.
childe can't describe the tugging in his heart as he observes each of your positive expressions as you enjoy the dishes he made.
the usually lonely and empty dinner table is filled with light chatter and giggles, replacing the void that left a cold bitterness in childe's heart.
after everything was completed finished with no leftovers, you take it upon yourself to wash the dishes, leaving no argument for childe when you threatened to take back your promise (he thinks that was too cruel of you to pull that over him).
he stands by you while you wash each dish, eventually shifting to tugging you against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. you bite back your complaint of the difficulty to move in the position when you hear his content sigh.
his heart is drunk on the pleasure of your presence that feels so natural in his life. the presence that fits perfectly in his present and future by his side, as his only lover.
he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of the moments when you would visit his hometown, when you would meet his beloved family, when you would carry his younger siblings in your arms, when his family would dress you in traditional snezhnayian clothing.
these thoughts don't leave his mind, even as you finish up and he leads you to the couches, filling the silence with mindless chatter of his family when you ask more about himself.
you planned on leaving sooner or later, but you couldn't help but give yourself a few more minutes, listening to his voice for a little longer. the longer you stayed, the more comfortable you felt. eventually, you let yourself be lured into the darkness as you drift off.
childe carefully directs your head towards his shoulder when he sees you start to drowse off. he thinks you're attractive even when you're asleep. an angel sent from heaven.
the item in his pocket weighs a little heavier now. with a little hesitance, he carefully pulls it out, making sure not to disturb your sleep,
opening it up, the crystal gleams the same crimson glow as the one that dangles off his ear every day.
with cautious movements, he gently puts it on your ear. it rests softly against your jaw. his heart pounds so loudly he worries that it would wake you up.
when thoma is eating out songbird, cleaning em up from ayatos release. do u think ayato wants songbird to continue whimper and beg for him, chanting HIS name or would he allow thoma get some recognition? or maybe he thinks he can allow that but after the first moan he gets jealous and stuffs songbird's mouth full of his cock so that they cant form words properly-
"Th-Thoma--"
Your voice is a quiet, thready little thing, edged with the rasp of three or four previous orgasms when Ayato's lust had not yet abated but you'd already reached your own peak. Thoma, diligent as ever, does not respond - his tongue works over your sex, uncaring of how Ayato's release must linger on his tastebuds.
It's too much. You squirm, but Thoma simply brings big, warm palms up to keep you pressed in place by your hips. Ayato, beside you, sighs with pleasure as he wipes a strand of hair from your sweat-slicked forehead.
"Don't fret so, songbird," he murmurs, his violet eyes half-lidded, his voice thick with arousal despite the proof of his own orgasm still lingering between your folds and leaking out of you and into Thoma's mouth. "Let him clean you up, now. We can't have you making a mess of these nice silk sheets Thoma just laundered for us, can we?"
It's not enough of a deterrent; Thoma's nose brushes your clit as his tongue delves inside of you and you cry out, whimpering, your back arching, as your over-sensitive body quivers and shakes.
"Thoma--!" You repeat, sniffling through tears, your eyes wet, your lashes dripping with diamonds. "I-- it's t-too much, Thoma, I can't--"
Thoma pauses for a moment; turns his own eyes on you, green eyes warm and soft in the glow of the lamplight. Ayato clicks his tongue at the cessation of Thoma's work.
"My Lord?" Thoma asks; his mouth and tongue and chin glitter with a mix of your arousal and Ayato's come. "I-- I don't want to hurt them--"
"Don't worry about it," Ayato says, his syllables as perfectly edged as a knife. "They have to learn, after all." Fingers grasp your chin, pulling your face towards him. Thoma returns to his position, and you feel your insides all clench at the sensation, sparks of over-stimulated pleasure running all through your body. Your eyes squeeze shut as a sob escapes your mouth unbidden; you cannot think. You cannot do anything.
"Oh, songbird--" Ayato practially purrs. "Thoma, can you hear that? The poor thing's in distress. However shall we quieten them down?"
He leaves the question open-ended. You know what he wants - somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know - but he does not want to vocalise it aloud. This is Thoma's job, you know - to be a part of his own humiliation, to make the call himself. Thoma knows it too.
He pauses with his breath hot against your entrance, though you feel certain you must be clear of all of Ayato's come by now.
"Perhaps you should use your fingers, My Lord," he suggests. Ayato tips his head to the side, makes a little 'hmm' of consideration. Thoma swallows. " . . . Or perhaps your cock, My Lord."
"Thoma," Ayato chuckles. "After I've already come in them once today? My. Somebody's more of a pervert than I realised." He looks at you with that serene half-smile on his face, his thumb rubbing over the seam of your lips. "Still . . . if that's what our dear housekeeper thinks is best . . . open your mouth for me, won't you?"
꒰ 7:36 P.M. ꒱ ❛ murasakibara atsushi x reader ༉‧₊˚✧
“your food’s getting cold.”
you look up at the worker, the current busboy wiping down and clearing tables, recognizing him immediately, mainly from the way your neck has to crane up further to meet the gaze from the taller individual. you don’t know what’s worse: getting stood up or being witnessed being stood up by someone — someone you know.
“i didn’t know you worked here,” you mumble, attempting to change the subject.
murasakibara atsushi is much smarter than that, though.
“‘got the job so i could save up for a car,” he answers nonchalantly before eying the appetizer dish in front of you. “do you not like it? i can send it back to the kitchen-”
“no, no! it’s perfect, thanks!” you quickly wave off, mustering up a polite smile. “i’m just … waiting for someone.”
then it all clicks.
“oh,” murasakibara replies, swinging the damp towel he’s holding over his shoulder. “why’d you order before they came?” he raises an eyebrow.
he’s wearing a dark outfit, black t-shirt with some black pants but theres a brown apron around his waist, slightly fade due to overuse and time
“i didn’t think he was gonna be late,” you grit, cheeks burning further at murasakibara’s prodding gaze. seriously, doesn’t this guy have something else to do then join you in your pity bubble? where’s that other guy he’s always hanging around, what’s his name, himuro?
“you’ve been here since seven, no?”
“what’s it to you, stalker?” you chuckle humorously, finding it rather odd that your classmate was aware of your presence.
“nothing, restaurant’s dead on thursdays so you’re the only one in here minus three other families and i’m just about bored out of my mind, looking for stuff to do.”
you hum in acknowledgment. “you could sit if you’re not gonna get in trouble.” you gesture toward the other side of the booth, empty.
notes : afab reader , gn pet names , breeding , spit , praise. minors do not interact.
"that's it, bunny, just like that,"
kaeya leans over to whisper into your ear. although you're laying on your back whilst he pounds into your sweet little cunt, there's something about the way your cheeks heat up whenever he praises you that make him go absolutely feral.
the pace of his hips is sharp, snapping against your own and showing no sign of halting. it perfectly contrasts his gentle touch. each carress to your face, your thighs, your tummy, your breasts contains immeasurable love and adoration.
"so pretty like this," he cooes. one of his hands slips underneath your head, lifting you ever so slightly as he bring himself down to kiss you. "oh, darling," he groans as your lips part. his face contorts in pleasure, not bothering to maintain the snarky, teasing demeanor that he sports around others.
kaeya takes his time with you. while he keeps his movements a little frenetic, his primary goal is to go as deep as he can — and he's doing a damn good job. every time he pulls out, he leaves you empty, stretched open by only the swollen head of his cock. then he wastes no time fully sheathing himself inside of you, so much so that if you didn't know any better, you would think he's inside your womb.
he pays full attention to your whimpers and begs, listening to your body's every desire. eventually, you ask him for more. while you could reach down and play with your own puffy clit, kaeya swatted your hands away each time you've tried. "let me take care of you, sweetheart," he said, same saccharine tone as ever. you were too embarrassed to ask, yet he'd fucked you to a point of neediness that it was no longer an option.
"there we go, was that so difficult?" he chuckles lightly. before you have the chance to shy away, his fingers as spreading your sticky folds, assessing the situation. he gathers a blob of spit on his tongue, landing it directly onto your clit and making you shiver before providing the comfort of his lithe digits circling the sensitive bud. "so fucking perfect, aren't you?"
you're not sure how he manages to make you melt with such expert precision, though you're also not sure that you care. pleasure is coursing through your veins, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every movement. and kaeya could tell.
"are you ready to cum, my darling?" he muses. "i won't make you beg, i'm not a total monster,"
you nod frantically, not trusting your voice. kaeya chuckles at your eagerness, consumed by the knowledge that only he got to see you like this and only he could make you feel such way.
"come on, my pretty bunny. let it all out," he states, continuing to play with you. "i'm going to breed you nice and full, okay? fuck, i can't stop thinking about how heavenly you'd look swollen with our kids..." kaeya notices how your walls flutter around him at such confession. "you like it that much, my love?" he leans down, resting his forehead against your own and staring into your eyes.
"aren't you an angel, hmm? my angel, my bunny," kaeya rambles. within a few deep thrusts, you can feel his cock twitch inside of you, spilling ropes of cum against your cervix. the sensation pushed you over the edge too, slick from your combined highs creating a mess between your legs.
"so sweet," kaeya cooes, kissing you adoringly. he holds you close, not pulling out from you just yet. "let me stay like this for a while, okay?" he punctates the sentence by kissing your forehead gently.
the calvary captain looked so content. so much fondness filled his gaze that it lit your heart of fire, falling in love with him all over again.
Hey if you’re ever not busy can you do a Suna fic where he just got his wisdom teeth removed😭I’ve seen it done on so many haikyuu characters but Suna and I think it’s so cute. You also write him the best😓
THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS AND THE ADORABLE PROMPT 😭💖💖💖
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The nurse told you that they’d used a strong anesthetic because of how impacted his teeth were, but when it took them quite a few times to finally wake him up, you knew you were in for a ride.
Rintaro always hated the dentist. Always. He blames it on childhood trauma (he didn’t have any. He never brushed his teeth and that was his problem) but up until last night, months after his dentist told him he’d need an extraction as soon as possible, he’d been trying to get out of it.
Deep down, seeing him so relaxed in the chair was a relief. The teeth were out, now he has to heal. Easy enough.
You smile as you make your way over to his slowly waking body, taking his hand gently in yours to be the first thing when he woke up. Kissing the knuckles finally had him stirring, and he blinked those bleary green eyes open at you, you practically saw the hearts forming in them.
“Morning, sunshine,” you coo, moving your free hand over to card the messy locks of hair from his face. “How do you feel?”
He tries to speak, but it comes out as a croaky ‘guhhh’ and from a few feet away, the nurse chuckles.
“He’ll have some nasty cotton mouth- literally- for the next few days, but communication should be normal as he starts to wake up,” she says, snapping the gloves off her hands. Then, she passes you the care directions, “no rush. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.” At this point, Rintaro has taken the liberty of grabbing all the gauze he can to put in his mouth. You assume it’s to absorb all the spittle.
“No, no honey,” you chuckle, gently grabbing his hands and pulling the damp cloth out easily. “Be careful. We can change your gauze when we get home.”
“I ‘ont wonna shange my gods,” he mumbles, resting his hands on yours. “‘Ike my gods.”
“Gauze, baby,” you titter. You lean over to plant some kissed onto his forehead, hoping your affections will ease him back more. “The nurse said you might be woozy when you stand, so let’s take it slow okay?”
“Yesh, bosh,” he slurs out. He blinks his foggy eyes before letting them wander around the room, over the sharp objects and wooden cupboards, all before wandering back to you. They widen before a brow quirks in confusion, "who're you 'gain?"
"Me?" You snicker. "I'm the one who's gonna keep you alive for the next few days. Your parents are away, so you're stuck with me." You turn your head slightly, "though that may be the other way around."
"Keep me 'live?" Now, he gives you a small, messy smirk. "'re too schexy to keep me 'live."
"Are you hitting on me?"
He doesn't answer you. Instead, he lets out a small string of laughter, head rolling around his neck in haze. You snort before opting to move him up and out of the room, "come on Romeo. Before you pass out on me."
"nuh-uh," he argues. You, however, choose to ignore him.
It's hard to pay attention when there's a pile of 185 centimeter man on your right shoulder, saying goodbye to every hygienist, dentist, secretary, patron, and flower on the sidewalk on the way to the car. There's a slurp from the spittle in his mouth that rings in your ear and makes you want to gag, but you chose to count some of your blessings.
He's at least mobile- unlike the horror stories you've heard about Osamu falling asleep in the seat while Atsumu wailed about the bandaid on his arm.
Finally, you and your oaf are able to make it to the car, his eyes closed in an attempt to sleep, and you jostle him awake slightly.
"I need you to work with me just a bit longer, okay?"
"When'd we get ousside?" He slurs.
"Not long after you said goodbye to the flowers," you say, rolling your eyes. "Watch your head, babe."
He ducks under your guiding palm, but you're not fast enough before he bumps the crown of his head against the door frame, mumbling a soft "ow" before moving on. It takes everything in your power to not laugh at his poor expense.
"It's because you've got such a big melon head, booger," you tease, and he smiles softly.
"'Ike mewons."
"I know baby."
You buckle him in before closing the door. You give yourself a stretch before heading to the driver's side.
You hadn't had him out of your sight for 25 seconds before you open the door and see him with your chapstick, completely rolled up and making a move towards his mouth.
He's either eating it, or trying to apply it.
Neither sounds like a good idea.
“Rintaro!” You scold, reaching for the chapstick. “You can’t eat that! You’ll get sick!”
“You’re th'ick,” he grumbles, but he does release his hold on your chapstick. His head thunks back against the headrest, letting you buckle while he says one more round of goodbyes to the flowers.
"Gonna nap," he murmurs, and you chose not to fight him on it. "Don't pick mah nothe."
"Why the hell would I do that?" You ask, laughing as you start the car.
He doesn't answer you. He's too busy letting his jaw slack open and let out the wheeziest of snores. You put your hand on his thigh and squeeze lovingly, allowing the hum of the engine and warmth from the sun lull him to sleep.
He's out, he's comfortable, and you can't wait to tell him about how, even drugged out of his mind, he still tried to put the moves on you.
You'll have to leave out the head smacking, though. Let him blame himself for that bruising.
