content: 18+, mdni,nsfw, Katakuri x fem!reader, arranged marriage, sexual fantasizing, mentions of: masturbation, nipple play, vaginal fingering, size difference, inexperienced!reader, reader of noble birth, this is a little silly
Your husband is quiet, just like the rumors.
The dining room silent aside from the clinking of your silverware. Katakuri's massive, intimidating figure all the way at the other end of the too-long table, partially obstructed by the platters of pastries and sweets and fruits that decorated the table. Dressed in his dark leather, face partially obscured by that fur scarf he always insists on wearing. His crimson eyes focused only on the papers in front of him, whichever task Mama had tasked him with this time.
Your husband is not a dominating sexy beast in bed, unlike the rumors.
The rumors you and your friends had giggled and whispered about in the sunlit garden back home before you were sent here. Rumors you clung to the sleepless nights before your wedding, reaching for that naughty little book you kept hidden between your silk pillows, one hand sliding into your lacey drawers to cup your heat as you replaced the characters in that lewd book with you and your future husband. Eyes closed, your soft fingers turning into something longer and much thicker, exhilarating and unknown.
Unknown even now because you have yet to do anything in bed with your husband aside from sleep, despite being married for months. He didn't even eat in front of you. Doesn't even let you see the full shape of his face, the curves of his lips, the outline of his jaw.
You knew he didn't dislike you. He couldn't. Right?
You can already feel the familiar pout forming on your lips as you reach for your porcelain teacup, the one that was a wedding gift from one of your countless in-laws. Freshly poured with your favorite tea, brewed perfectly, much like how most of the food placed upon the table was tailored to your tastes, never lacking in quality. It made you feel a little better to know that he had set up this routine of afternoon tea together, made your heart all fuzzy that he remembered which flowers you preferred for the centerpiece, which flavors and textures not to have placed at the table.
Surely, you at least held a little place in his heart. He was always so considerate with you.
Although it still made you feel a bit sour, as this daily routine was his response to when you asked to be included at his daily merienda. The response to when you fluttered your lashes at him, placing a hand on his beefy, veiny arm, nearly throwing yourself into his lap as you told him you wanted to spend more time with him. Alone.
Your dream of a candlelit night, your silk nightgown torn and body ravaged with bliss from his mighty form was shattered as he suggested daily afternoon tea. (His hand gently encompassing your shoulder, barely touching, not exuding any effort as he kept you at arms length on the lush bedding of your marriage bed, voice quiet and solemn and gentle as he spoke.) Too considerate. You had almost considered taking off your nightgown yourself that night, baring your naked, soft skin before him and rubbing up against him like some cat in heat. But you weren't that salacious. Not that night.
But today…well…
Reaching for another pastry as your eyes flit back over his seated figure. The pen in his hand, the one you had bought him at the market, looking comically tiny between those thick, calloused fingers. At least you had this small victory of getting to see his bare hands, convincing him he didn't need to wear those leather gloves when at home. Nails short and well trimmed, the firm square shape of his fingertips. The gentle squish of his flesh against the dark pen, not too stiff.
So thick.
So big.
How easily they could encompass your breasts. A single one of his fingertips would so easily be able to cover your nipple. How would that calloused finger feel against it? Would he rub it gently until it pebbled under his touch? A soft swirl against your heated, tingling nipple, his deep, solemn voice against your ear, your neck.
Or would he twist and pinch? Pleasure blooming from delicious pain, his tongue running down your skin, a bite here and there, the mark of his teeth etched into your skin, your breast. His mouth unrelenting, ravenous against your hardened nipple.
How would those fingers feel against your hot folds? A rough finger pad on that little hidden pearl. Dipping down further, squelching against your slickness as a single burly finger finally delved into your tight, aching-
"Be careful with your tea, wife."
Katakuri's low voice nearly making you jump out of your chair. His crimson eyes now focused on you, particularly on how weak your grip had become on the handle of your tea cup.
Ah.
The heat of your face suddenly all encompassing, cheeks burning, throat dry as you carefully set your teacup back down on it's saucer. The clink of porcelain against porcelain a little too loud. A familiar wetness between your thighs.
"You always look out for me. Thank you, my darling."
Honest words paired with your shaky, well-intended smile, the corners of your lips still fighting against the heavy hotness of your cheeks. Hoping, like always, that your sincerity would keep his eyes on you a little longer. Hoping that your clear fondness would be met with something similar.
Just a little something. Something a little more meaningful than simple consideration. Words a little sweeter than normal, red eyes with palpable affection, his hand reaching for yours, a sweet kiss placed upon your li-
"As I've said before, there is no need for such words."
His words firm, voice a little hoarse as he clears his throat for some unknown reason, eyes going back to looking at the papers in front of him. The dining room silent yet again.
"…"
If only you had asked for iced tea today. Perhaps you could have spilled some on yourself. How perfectly it would have stained the light fabric you had decided to wear for this lovely warm day. Seep into the thin fabric, letting your skin, your breasts, your nipples appear like blooming flowers. A sweet, pitiful gasp on your lips, maybe a little insincere but still beckoning his attention. Leading his large hands to your soft, wet skin, asking him to help you. Your husband was so considerate, of course he would help.
But the last time you had tried that he had been a little too helpful. Preventing you from spilling even a drop. Sometimes this husband of yours was a little too attentive..
The glimmer of your silver fork under the ornate chandelier suddenly quite interesting. Perhaps it was time to be a little more bold. A little wanton.
"Be caref-"
Your husband's perfectly timed warning interrupted as you still tossed the fork beneath the table. Letting it thud against the plush carpet before you reacted.
"Oh no! My fork! I shall go fetch it, husband.." You gasp and pout dramatically, making sure to bat your lashes, maintaining eye contact, as you lower yourself beneath the lavish table, your hands and knees sinking into clean carpet. Your hand making contact with the silver utensil only to push it forward, crawling after it, letting it guide you to the other end of the table.
"S-stay over there!"
His voice suddenly shaky, the most strained you've ever heard it (aside from that time he had accidently held you in his sleep). Beneath the table you can see the tense grip of his hands on the wooden chair, thick legs rigid, as if he was petrified. Good.
"Oh my! This fork is so hard to find!" You exclaim a little too dramatically perhaps, but at this point you were so, so close to the dark fabric of his pants, crawling to that open spot between his legs.
Finally.
Your hand making firm contact against the black leather that clothed his thick thigh. Your face peeking up from under the table to settle quite closely against that particular area of thigh that led to his crotch, pressing your cheek against the smooth fabric.
His face a deep, dark red, shaky eyes trained only on your face. So vivid, so handsome. His hands trembling against the arms of his chair, the wood nearly cracking. That little cute sound of bewilderment muffled by his scarf, like that time you had managed to sneak a surprise kiss on his cheek. A sound you had dreamed of hearing again. Wondering what other sweet sounds you could discover. Your hand moving to that skull belt, seeing how far you could get this time.
He always let you kiss his cheek, hold his hand when you wanted to. Surely you could do more, right?
Your husband was so unlike the rumors. He was too kind. Maybe a little shy. Inexperienced, just like you. But that was okay, you didn't mind being the ravenous beast in this story.
Especially when he seemed to melt so easily under your touch, craved it as much as you did.
Vice Admiral Garp catches you in the men's locker rooms. Again.
content: nsfw, 18+, mdni Monkey D. Garp x f!reader, mentions of reader x Koby (reader has a crush), age gap, size difference (garp is 9'5") , power imbalance, masturbation, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, semi public setting, overstimulation, reader is a little bit of a creepy pervert, peeping, takes place a few years after timeskip (no spoilers)
"Now, let's go over that again, brat!"
The famed Vice Admiral Garp towers over you, all tanned skin and muscle and old scars. Only that little white towel wrapped tightly around his lower waist keeping you from seeing him fully.
Though it does little to hide the coarse trail of snowy hair below his belly button, The veins below the slight sagging pudge of his lower stomach thick and bulging with blood.
Healthy and vigorous despite his age. The peek of those large, saggy dark balls beneath the pristine white terry fabric. The standardized towels kept in the locker rooms were always too small for him. Yet he never bothered asking for the larger size.
You swallow back the build up of saliva in your mouth before responding. The movement of your throat too loud in the quiet space of the men's locker room.
The cold press of the locker against your back the only relief from the heat radiating off his skin, fresh from the steamy baths. Your bucket and mop forgotten near one of the benches.
"I-it's really my day to clean! I swear, Vice Admiral Garp!"
Your voice shaky, eyes big and wet as you look up at him. Pitiful. Your lower lip jutting out, wobbly. Your hot, flustered cheeks slightly smushed in the firm grip of his massive hand, easily keeping your head tilted up to look at his sharp, fiery eyes, the disappointed furrow of his burly grey brows. Oh…
You loved when he looked at you like this.
"I really didn't mean to…I just..I-I couldn't help it, Vice Admiral…p-please.."
You murmur in that soft, quivering voice. A little sniffle. A slow, sad flutter of your lashes.
Your fingers loosening their grip on the garment they held. The soft cotton fabric of Captain Koby's boxers. Today they were muted green with little colorful fish.
His favorite pair, judging by the frequency you saw them. Still slightly damp with his sweat. Remnants of a little wet spot from where the tip of his cock must of rested against the green fabric.
You were only going to use them for a little bit. Before Koby came back from baths. You always only needed a few minutes. You always timed it perfectly.
"Naughty brat."
Garp lets out a gruff sigh. Letting go of your cheeks to take the boxers out of your hands, placing them back into the opened locker next to you. The metal locker shuts with a resounding click.
"You can't keep doin this, kid. I won't always be around to save your sorry hide."
His eyes softening into something more gentle as he watches your face, the nervous twitch of your fingers against your shabby uniform. You wondered what he saw in you. Still wanting to guide you despite your depravity. You wouldn't question it.
"We've been over this hmm? No need for all this boxer sniffin. Just talk to him. A little chat here and there. Koby's a good man. He'll treat you well."
It was true. Captain Koby was an exceptionally good man. No. Good was not a word that did enough justice for what he was.
He held a special place in your heart. How could he not? He had saved you from that desolate island once called your home. Stood up to his superiors to give you this opportunity to live and work at New Marineford when you had nothing.
Never forgetting you even though it had been a few years since then. How his eyes lit up when he spotted you in the hallways or when he helped you carry the bulky stacks of towels. Always catching your eyes even when you thought yourself invisible, just another cleaner.
You wanted him to always smile so brightly like that when he said your name. You wanted more and more and more. Things that would no doubt scare your precious savior off. Things only kept in your tiny cot. In the minutes of empty rooms that held traces of him. Your hero. Your god.
But Vice Admiral Garp. Well..
He was special too.
Not placed on that high pedestal dedicated only to your hero, yet still eliciting want and need. Hunger. Especially as of recent. The touch of his large, calloused hands were tangible. Easy to obtain.
Relieving despite the heat and slick they always drew out. Satiating the deep hunger that the touch of Koby's boxers against your aching pussy had barely been able to satisfy.
"Will you..will you punish me, Vice Admiral?"
Like last time?
The unspoken words the loudest. Your thighs pressing together already in anticipation. Heart beating fast.
A soft snort from his nose, the slight crinkle highlighting the subtle crookedness from an old injury. That familiar amused grin lighting up his face. Eyes narrowed and dark. Vibrant despite the wrinkled lines of his face. An undying flame. You, the moth drawn to them, praying for them to never extinguish. You needed this guidance.
Needed to see that carnivorous desire when he looked down at you.
Feel it.
"You want me to punish you, hmm?"
The little drip, drip of the leaky shower head was thrilling. Arousing. Like a little bell you had been conditioned to associate with the greedy wetness of your folds, the fluttery need of your twitching hole.
This small shower stall yet again becoming a little heated den of carnal desire. A pleasingly confined space, only wet tile and cold metal and the press of hot, tough tanned skin on your own.
Your breath coming out in cloudy little puffs, fogging up against the polished metal of the shower handle. In it, you could still slightly see your distorted blurry forms. Your pitifully small, naked body engulfed in hard muscle.
A single hand holding your waist, large thick fingers easily wrapping past your bellybutton, calloused fingertips on the soft skin of your hips. The thick veins of his leathery hands still prominent despite his relaxed grip. Leisurely dragging you up and down his seemingly endless, meaty thigh.
"A-aah.."
Little weak breathy mewls leaving your wet mouth. Hot breath having no where to go but back against your flustered cheeks and heavy lashes, the bronzed, steely chest pressed against the back of your head.
Your lower stomach already feeling so twisted and taut, sore with pleasure. Skin on skin so wet and too slick. A glossy trail marking where your pussy lips moved across his thigh. Arousal smeared on the downy hair that concealed your crying cunt, on the wiry grey hair of Garp's thighs.
"I…I want to practice like last time…a-ahh..please.."
Your hips tilted down shamelessly to chase that addicting buzz of your beady little clit against crinkling muscle. Your head weightless, toes clenched in pleasure.
"Still hungry for more, huh? Greedy brat!"
A little nip at your ear, the feel of his large, white teeth on your hot skin. His grin and scratchy beard still wet with your drool, with the sticky remnants of what had trickled out of your twitching hole onto his hefty tongue.
His hand that held your breasts, a single thick finger flicking and swirling between both of your tingling nipples with ease, finally letting go to trail down the buzzing, trembling flesh of your stomach. One meaty finger dipping between your sticky thighs. The soft underbelly of his knuckle blanketing your clit as his finger curled inward, fingertip disappearing between your slick pubes.
"Remember. This is practice for the future, right?"
The future. Vice Admiral Garp always loved to talk of the future. Whether it be during his lectures, his thundering scolding, or like this, just the two of you in the tiny, humid shower stall.
You mindlessly nodded. Whatever would get you to feel that addicting little burst in your tummy, relief for your burning core.
A firm little tap of the square tip of his giant middle finger on your entrance, the noise too squishy and sinful. Your hole already squeezing, begging, weeping to take in the large, thick calloused length.
Your heart a heavy, fast drum against your chest, dizzying. Little wanton whimpers dripping from your tongue along with your drool.
Eyes unfocused, hazy. Looking at the tanned finger that covered your pussy with ease, little white hairs between his knuckles. Calloused and wrinkly, marred with little pale marks and bumps of old scars.
Eyes greedily flicking to look at that monstrous meaty thing that rested against one of your outer thighs, the leaky tip bumping against your knee. A deep dark color, all veins and girthy flesh. Twitching with vitality.
The needy whine at the back of your throat easily brought out as a cry by another tap against your hole. The firm texture of his fingerpad starting to wiggle into your wet little entrance. Slowly working into your gummy inside, lewd little noises of his smooth nail, his flesh pushing against your walls.
"Now, Koby should be about this size..maybe a little bigger…he'll have to work you open like this.."
Garp's sizzling breath against your already burning head. A deep, soft chuckle, an exhale of breath as your pussy clenches and strains around the invading length. Just a finger and yet so, so big. Your head, your pussy feeling so mushy.
"Fucking the real thing will feel better but you're getting the idea, right?"
His chuckle a little more boisterous, echoing against the tile walls as your head bobbles, mind too clouded to fully nod. His finger curling more, too thick and practiced, easily seeking out that special spongy part that has you keening. You're burning, melting, drowning. Too alive.
The squelch of his finger between your fluttery walls getting louder and louder as more liquid trickles out.
"Shh, Shh..good girl.."
A throaty hum to shush your brainless little noises, grin turning to something gentle despite how his finger still remains gripped in your gluey hole.
He gives you a moment to breathe, your chest rising fast, eyes droopy and body boneless. Only propped up by his large firm hands, the hard muscle of his chest and thighs that you rested upon.
Finally he turns on the shower, warm water slowly trickling down onto your dried slick, your scorching skin. The water flow becoming stronger, a comforting pitter patter against the tile. Drowning out whatever little remark for the future Vice Admiral Garp was saying now.
Drowning out the little wet slap slap sounds in the shower stall next to yours. The quiet breathy little groans that Koby could barely hold back between gritted teeth and wobbling lips. Face red and pink hair still damp and plastered to his forehead, eyes screwed tight.
Knuckles white as he gripped his hard weeping cock, spit covered hand moving desperately to the memory of your pleasure.
Marriage and everything else that came with it were part of your dream. Not Sae's.
content: Sae Itoshi x fem!reader, sfw, sunshine!reader (she's def over the top), fluff, romance, childhood friends, shoujo inspired (specifically itazura na kiss), silly. AU.
The idea had sounded absolutely perfect when Mrs. Itoshi brought it up, the certainty in her voice, that twinkle in her eyes. Rin seemed to be all settled in his apartment now, and your dad had plenty of helping hands at his bakery. It was the perfect time to carry out the plan you had been dreaming about, tossing and turning and giggling with excitement late at night about for years now.
The plan, that dream that kept you going even when things got hard, when you felt sad and alone. The plan that Mrs. Itoshi fully supported you in, always coming up with the most brilliant ideas to add, Mr. Itoshi speaking up gently to maybe make them a little more realistic. The one that Rin would roll his eyes at and call you stupid over (he was just jealous! hmmph!). The one that your dad would shake his head fondly at, with amusement and that subtle pride in his smile.
Words written down in your old childhood diary, circled and doodled around, the page covered with hearts and stickers and the sign of age, yet still just as true.
So you bought that long one-way plane ticket from Japan to Spain that same day, spirits high and determination unbreakable. After all, Sae was all alone in that foreign land, left to fend for himself for so many years, you couldn't bear to leave him like that anymore! Now you finally had the chance to be there with him! Yes, that’s right, you would be there to cook his favorite meals (..the ones that fit his highly selected meal plan anyways..), make sure his luxury apartment wasn't just a house but a home (cozy pillows, photos, and matching toothbrush holders and so much more!), and cheer him on during each and every one of his games, in person now!
Your smile was still so bright as you somehow managed to hail a taxi driver at the airport with a mixture of your nonexistent Spanish and incredibly poor English (..perhaps you should have studied a little more...) and showed them the address that you had saved on your phone for months. The address that was memorized by heart, the one that you had already sent a plethora of letters and care packages to.
Your eyes were dazzling as you got out of the cab and stood in front of that sleek, beautiful apartment complex that Sae was residing in. You could hear your heart beating so fast at the thought of finally being able to see Sae after 4 months of being apart, and that this time it would be permanent, it wouldn’t be just another short visit. The apartment no longer just the photo pinned to your bedroom wall, your dreams no longer only confined to the touch of the glossy paper and magazine cutouts beneath your fingertips.
It was only when you got that panicked phone call from Mrs. Itoshi, as you were trying and failing to get the apartment complex’s security guard to let you in that your bright smile diminished a bit. Because Sae was not currently in Spain. He was in Germany, as was Rin, and would be there for at least a month due to some football event he had joined.
The twinkle in your eyes seemed to die a bit and your smile became so much smaller as you came to the sudden realization that you were in a foreign country, two large heavy suitcases at your side, with no understanding of the language and no place to stay. You sank to the ground, hugging your knees as you inhaled heavily to hold back your tears as fear clouded your thoughts.
But!
You would be okay because you had the power of a credit card! And just like that, you popped right back up, your determination burning brighter than the scorching sun above you (the young security guard might have been looking at you with a look of utmost fear, but that didn't really matter right now).
So you decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood, taking in the fresh crisp ocean breeze, the sound of distant seagulls and crashing waves soothing your worries. Stopping for a delicious lunch at that cute little restaurant you spotted (giggling to yourself as you pictured eating there with Sae next time, oh so romantic!), noticing a cute little storefront that seemed to have been recently sold (perfect for a bakery you mused dreamily) before you managed to get another taxi to take you right back to the airport.
You miss how the security guard of Sae’s apartment complex so desperately tried to wave you back over, his black cell phone pressed to one of his ears as you excitedly looked at your trip itinerary for Germany in the back seat of the taxi.
The first thing Eita Otoya notices about you is your cute, sunny smile as he sits down next to you on the crowded plane and your excitement and relief at the realization that he also speaks Japanese. The second thing he notices is that dainty rose gold ring around your finger, twisted and dotted with little white diamonds, reminiscent of ocean waves in the sunset. It looks vaguely familiar, a small tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite pinpoint. He assumes it must be some trendy designer jewelry piece he saw somewhere like that overly expensive bracelet that so many of his ex-girlfriends had wanted him to buy.
The third thing he notices about you is your soft, sparkly eyes, the light flush of your cheeks when he asks you if you have a boyfriend (he’s learned the hard way to always ask that question), and how you bashfully shake your head ‘no’. How cute. He assumes he’s in the clear then, to have you be his friend for a bit while he stays in Berlin, he’s already picturing taking you out to restaurants, enjoying a good meal together, having you cheer him on, and a bunch of other things with a cute girl like you at his side.
Eita Otoya does not notice the bubble of giddy laughter that is barely contained behind your bright smile, that far-off, dreamy look in your eyes after he had mentioned the term boyfriend. Because you definitely did not have a boyfriend.
Not anymore!
Rin Itoshi is already feeling a migraine forming from the grueling experience of having to sit between his two most obnoxious teammates on that 2-hour plane trip from Paris. He thinks he’s officially lost it, that he’s seeing hallucinations now because he swears he sees your dumb smiling face in the goddamn Berlin airport. Impossible. There's no way, even you aren't stupid enough to plan something like this, right?
…
Right?
…
Sae Itoshi’s manager thinks today is the day he will die. If not from the extreme levels of stress he is currently experiencing, it will be from Sae Itoshi’s cold wrath. The poor man is sweating, his normally pristine suit rumpled and drenched, sleeves rolled up, glasses sliding off his damp face as he has his phone pressed to his ear, laptop open as he desperately scrolls through credit card transactions and airline information.
Sae is still in the midst of his interview, answering bluntly and clinically in his typical manner yet his words seem even more curt than normal. Left foot subtly bouncing, hands locked together, cold teal eyes glancing back to his frantic manager between questions.
Immediately taking his phone out of his pocket the moment the cameras are turned off and everyone is packing up. Jaw clenching when the number he calls leads straight to voicemail.
It’s not until you’re at the hotel lobby (Otoya-kun's suggestion, oh he's so nice, you're so happy you made a new friend!), taking out your card to pay for your hotel room, it finally dawns on Otoya about where exactly he had seen your ring before. His eyes zeroing in on that very, very familiar name printed on the credit card in your hands.
Oh.
(Ninja Art: Strategic Exit)
You're done paying for your hotel room, excited to finally put your suitcases somewhere and then go eat at that amazing restaurant Otoya kept mentioning, turning to face him only to find him nowhere to be found. Brows furrowed and lips pouting in concern and confusion as you look around the hotel lobby, trying to figure out where your new friend could have gone.
"You."
That familiar voice, the one that you could recognize with your eyes closed, the one you sometimes fall asleep to while on facetime with. The voice engrained into your heart. Monotone and cold yet anything but (especially right now). Your smile is the brightest it's been all day, the brightest it's been in months really, suitcases and hunger and exhaustion (and Otoya-kun's mysterious disappearance) all forgotten from your mind as you rush over to him, flinging your arms around him.
"Sae!"
Your heart so warm, beating so brightly, so bubbly like your favorite fizzy candy. A feeling you've always felt with Sae.
Like when you were 6 and you dropped your ice cream cone.
You’re in absolute shock, ready to cry yet again and Sae does not want to deal with that again, he doesn't like it when you cry. You've had too many things to cry about recently, but at least this situation is something he can try to control. So he shoves his own ice cream cone into your hand, hoping that’ll be enough. It’s something he’s used to doing for his younger brother, just the most effective way to stop your nearly endless tears. Another crybaby in his life to take care of. Your small hands linked together as you walk around the neighborhood park, your shimmering eyes glued to him.
Or when you’re 8 and you and your dad and the Itoshi family go out for your weekly movie night.
An established ritual of going to see a movie together with reservations ready at that yummy restaurant later, something your families have done ever since you could remember. The movie was your choice this time, a story of a mermaid becoming a human princess and living in a seaside castle with her adorable sea creature friends and her beloved prince, fixing all their problems with the power of love and friendship.
Your eyes barely left the movie screen as they dazzled in excitement at how the mermaid princess and her human prince danced and spun around on that beautiful balcony overlooking the ocean. The warmth in your heart and the little tears of happiness that bubbled in your eyes as the prince and the mermaid got married.
You still weren’t too sure what marriage was, all you knew was that it meant you could sleep in the same bedroom like Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi did, that you would love each other forever, make each other happy forever, even if you couldn’t see each other (like how your dad visited your mama every year, a fresh flower bouquet, warm glossy eyes, and soft smiles). An endless playdate with your favorite person in the whole universe, always happy and together!
That was what you wanted, that was what you dreamed of. So you declared during dinner, a little too loudly in the quiet restaurant, that you had a dream of what you wanted to do as an adult. Clumsily standing up from your seat, nearly tipping your water cup over, face scrunched and rosy with determination and courage and too much soda.
Your declaration that you and Sae would get married when you were older and live in a seaside castle just like in the movie and live together forever and ever (and become mermaids and other such crucial details). Your small warm hand had gently grabbed Sae’s hand during your declaration and his teal colored eyes bore down at where your hands were linked. “Okay.” He had simply said in that monotone voice.
Your dad and Mr. Itoshi looked at you wide-eyed before laughing heartily, your dad reaching over to ruffle your head. Mrs. Itoshi nodded enthusiastically, overwhelmed by your absolute cuteness as she sniffled proudly, already calling you her precious, adorable daughter-in-law, already envisioning and planning a grand wedding as Mr. Itoshi gently rubbed her shoulder in hopes she wouldn't make this even more of a scene.
Rin grumbled and huffed and told you that was stupid, that something like that was impossible and even if it were, Sae wouldn’t live in some stupid seaside castle! His big brother would live in a football stadium with him, the two of them the #1 and #2 best strikers in the whole entire world!
You were pouty and your eyes full of tears, like the little crybaby you were as you bickered with Rin (h-how dare he! You were older! Hmmph! Why did he never listen to you as he did with Sae!). Sae was silent through the whole thing, still chewing on his bite of pasta, quiet as he usually was when the two of you harmlessly fought over him, his free hand still in your grasp. Until finally cutting in.
"We can do both."
Rin eventually agrees that you can have your castle across from their football stadium and that you can host your tea parties to celebrate every single game they will win. You reluctantly pout back that he can be a mermaid too and have sleepovers in your castle…if he listens to whatever you say!
Amongst the laughter and chatter and the sound of Mrs. Itoshi’s camera, as she forever immortalized this moment, Sae Itoshi added another minor detail to that small list of bullet points he kept in his head.
It’s when you’re 10 and you’ve made your first batch of homemade cookies all by yourself without the help of your dad (aside from helping you with the oven stuff).
Your fingers are a little burnt (and so are the cookies), but your eyes are sparkling, smile bright and hopeful as you rush off skipping to the neighborhood park to meet up with Sae and Rin, holding the little red cookie tin to your chest.
"They taste burnt."
Sae says matter-of-factly after a bite, chewing slowly as if that would help him make a proper critique.
"Yeah, they're burnt! Bleh! Burnt!"
Of course, Rin mimicking him before adding his own little flair.
Your lip wobbling, lashes fluttering slowly, eyes getting hot and wet with tears.
Sae reaching into the little tin for another one and then another until they're all gone, eating each one despite your tearful, pouty whines.
"They're not bad. Just keep making them, I'll eat all of them."
It's when you’re 13 and Sae is leaving.
Leaving to go live in a whole other country, away from you. Your tears are large and already seeping into Sae’s brand-new jersey as you wish and whine so badly that you could go with him. He’s quiet, and calm, telling you to stop being a big baby, saying he’ll be back for a visit in a few months probably. His hand in yours, a subtle squeeze, as his other hand gently pinches your pouty lips. You'll be good for him, right?
A little moment of hesitation before he suddenly leans in, cheeks just as red as yours, his lips clumsy and quick, a sweet little press against yours. Your eyes on him, wide and bubbly, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your lips wobbling as you attempt to pucker them, looking up at him expectantly in hopes he will do it again.
He lets out that rare little noise you adore, that soft chuckle, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, only your silly face in his teal eyes. He leans in and you perk up excitedly, wanting to make sure your second kiss is perfect, longer, closing your eyes, hands trembling.
Only for him to pinch your lips again with his fingers.
"Crybabies don't get second kisses unless they're good."
And when you’re 14 and Sae is visiting for a few days.
It’s a cold winter day, full of fluffy white snow and you’re bundled up tight in the red scarf that Mrs. Itoshi gifted you. It’s just the two of you because Rin refuses to leave his room (he’s been in a really bad mood recently, you're still figuring out how to cheer him up..both of them up).
The two of you walk around the park as the snow falls, Sae is quiet, even more than normal, as you point things out or tell him about some of the things that have happened while he was gone. Your gloved hands are entwined, as always when the two of you walk. His hand feels different, a little bigger, a little thinner, a little more rough, just like the rest of him. His teal eyes are dull, trained on the snowy path you walk, before settling onto your obnoxious beaming smile, the flush of your cheeks, the way he looks reflected in your eyes.
Pulling him to go sit on a snowy bench before taking out that familiar old cookie tin, full to the brim of sugar cookies, sprinkled with red and blue sprinkles, edges a little cracked.
"I'm on a diet, you know."
Yet he's reaching for one, pressing the allegedly "heart-shaped" cookie to his lips and taking a slow bite. Your eyes watching every little moment of his mouth, your heart beating nervously and your gloved hands fisted with nervousness.
"Better than last time."
Your smile too bright, it could rival the sun.
He reaches for another only to be tugged down, his lips unceremoniously pressed against yours, too sudden, your nose nearly hitting his. Crumbs still on his lips, now on yours. Sweet like vanilla and butter.
So perfect.
It’s when you’re 16, having another one of your long-distance phone calls.
You babble endlessly as always, phone pressed to your ear as your legs sway back and forth as you lay on your plushie-covered bed. Sae, as usual, is mainly silent as he continues with his gym routine, responding with an occasional grunt or ‘hmm’ as you go on and on. His ears full of nothing except the clinking of gym equipment and your loud, cheery voice. You mention your new friend who you’re going to the movies with this weekend, the boy at your school who offered you his umbrella on a rainy day (so kind!), and who always wants to eat lunch with you.
"Didn't you fail your math test? Don't waste your time on stupid things like that and study instead."
"..S-Sae!!" (As usual…he was right.)
A few days later you receive a small package from Spain, sent via express mail, a little silver ring, and a simple four-word note.“Do not take off.”
You're ecstatic, showing off to everyone who will listen (and Rin of course). Spamming Sae's messages with way too many selfies. Your hand and that sparkling little ring the main focus in all of them, receiving nothing back but that little 'read' indication and a single "go study" message.
It's when you're 17, sat at the Itoshi's kitchen table.
Going through the recent sports magazine that Sae graced the cover of, your handy scissors at your side as you happily recount Sae's most recent interview to those present.
(Your smile too wide as you trace over that familiar silver ring that's hung around his neck, barely visible under his jersey, fingertips against the cold, glossy paper.)
Rin with his arms crossed and trying to look as disinterested as possible while Mrs. Itoshi happily nods from where she's typing away at her work laptop. But you give Rin that smile that always makes him huff, nervous at whatever dumb thing you're going to do now, seeing him twitch and try to hide his flustered look as you produce a second magazine of the same issue, still in its plastic wrap.
"This way you can cut out Sae's pictures and have them on your wall too! Let's make dream boards together, Rin!"
"S-shut up!"
It's right now, years later, settled in the back seat of the car as the driver drives the two of you back to where Sae is staying, your head on Sae's shoulder.
You're already fast asleep, your exhaustion, the happiness of your heart catching up with you (and the jet lag). Hands entwined. Matching wedding rings glowing under the bright passing city lights, the softness of the moon.
His phone is silenced, lighting up for a moment, the notification of his new interview being posted, before the screen fades back to darkness, tucked away in his bag next to that red cookie tin you had excitedly taken out of your suitcase. For now, the interview was irrelevant, forgotten in the midst of your peaceful snores, his soft, amused smile.
But in the morning, when Sae was already well into his morning routine, you would be cozy and warm and still so sleepy under the silky covers. He would then take the time, sat at the small hotel room patio with his kombucha, to skim over his interview.
'Sae Itoshi Confirms Marriage Rumors.'
He knew that once you woke up, once your sleepy, jet-lagged state gave way to your usual bubbly energy, you'd be over the moon. Squealing and giggling and saying how you needed to save the article in your scrapbook. Nearly jumping on him as you showered him in too much affection, messy little kisses, and cheeks pressed together. Undeniable proof of your dream coming true, solid like that ring around your finger, like the marriage certificate framed back in the apartment in Spain.
Your dream.
But not Sae's.
Because for Sae, marriage was not a dream, not some goal he would eventually achieve when he deemed it time. It had never been any of that. You and your overly burning love, your too-radiant smiles and laughter, your crybaby tears, your warm hugs, and noisy kisses, and sweet sugar cookies were just truths. Undeniable facts in his life. Your presence in his life, your relationship never a dream, never a goal, never a checkmark, but a bullet point. A bullet point on that little list of things that were fundamental to Sae Itoshi's life.
sofa moments #1 - nsfw, rin itoshi x afab!reader, dry humping on the sofa, cumming in pants, bratty!reader, possessive reader undertones
"Tell me you like me.."
A pout on your lips for no reason, arms wrapped around Rin's neck, hands playfully petting the nape of his neck, dipping underneath his t-shirt to feel the warm addictive firmness of his back, slightly scratching with your nails.
"I love you."
Quiet but immediate, like always. A softness that only you get to see. His hands gripping your hips, not rough but still so clearly needy, thumbs rubbing against the soft fabric of your pajama pants. Turquoise eyes focused intently on your face, your pouty lips, the unneeded bratty flutter of your lashes.
"Really?"
Your pout curving into something a little more sweet but no less wicked. Leaning in closer to give him what he needs, his lips already twitching forward to eagerly meet yours, still slightly parted from the delicious friction of your heat against his grey sweatpants, against that little damp spot forming at the tip of his dick. The sweet little gasp that escapes his mouth as you press a little more onto his lap, dark lashes heavy over his eyes as you rock against his length again and again. The shape of your pussy too tangible through your thin wet pajama pants, the catch of your clit on the seam of his sweatpants, on the thick bump of his clothed cock.
"I-I love you."
A breathless little whine against your lips, his face flushed and eyes dark, hands gripping your hips firmly, your pajama pants all wrinkled and bunched between his trembling fingers. The muscles of his arms strained, those little veins visible as he drags you up and down, his hips canted up to press sweetly against your clit, against your cunt, notching against your wet mushy pants, your hands digging into his shoulders, toes curling against the smooth fabric of the sofa.
Your pout forgotten in the uncontrolled flutter of your lashes, the arch of your back, that sweet, sweet twist of your core, the blissful weight of Rin's name on your tongue.
And finally, one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. One only you get to hear. Rin gripping you to him, heaving chest against yours, his head buried against your neck, lips quivering and wet against your skin. Your name a needy breathy groan, a prayer.
Dark grey blooming across his sweatpants, soggy and sticky with his cum. A special flower only for you.
nsfw, 18+, babytrapping!reader, toxic!reader, riding, creampie, couch sex, unprotected sex, implied manipulation/dubcon, implied exes/situationship, slight yandere, pro athlete au
pro athlete!fav x reader
inspiration: bluelock, haikyuu
Oh, your poor, poor honey.
He said he wouldn't come back, that he needed to focus. That you were far too needy, far too distracting. That he couldn't give you what you wanted. That his dreams came first. That he was serious this time.
But, like always, that declaration could only last so long. A week this time, the longest by far. Only because you were willing to be patient this time. Preparing for a much larger payout. A permanent fix to that insignificant issue he always clung to when it came to your relationship.
Giving him that little false sense of security, his phone silent during his workouts. No racy little pics sent while he was in the locker room or during an interview. No late-night texts when he was most susceptible. Your face nowhere to be found in the crowds. Not showing up to his apartment unannounced.
Relief finally settling into his mind, thinking he finally had the strength to ignore that part of him that craved you, that so desperately needed you. Believing that he could live without you in his life.
Oh, your poor sweet honey and his silly little ideas. But it was okay because you knew what he really needed.
A little "Are you okay?" text after a lost game, your voice sweet like honey on the immediate phone call after. Answered on the first ring. A lethal "I miss you, baby.." piercing straight to the heart.
After all, only you could comfort him when he was down, right? He could count on you no matter what. You'd always be there for him. It didn't have to be anything serious, just a chat and a meal together. A little moment of indulgence he needed after feeling shitty and frustrated.
Oh, your sweet, sweet honey.
Your apartment suddenly a place he realized he had missed far too much. Your welcoming and willing embrace, your familiar scent the most comforting of homes. The plush sofa beneath him, full of far too many memories that easily ensnared his heart. Your soft, sweet body on his lap, your glossy lips against his ear, your seemingly unconditional love the most potent of poisons.
His head lolling back against the sofa, hair slick with sweat. Lips wet and puffy, mouth open and eyes dazed in that sweet, sweet way. Your name on his lips, like a desperate prayer. Oh, your honey was so, so perfect like this. Looking up at you. Only your face reflected in his eyes. Worshipping you. Loving you. Only you and your perfect tight heat occupying that fucked out mind of his.
His excuses, his pleas, his career lay forgotten like the unwrapped condom knocked off of the squeaky sofa.
The first round was quick and easy, over too soon in that way that always made him pathetic and flustered. Wanting more, whiny and needy, needing to prove himself. Your hands cupping his face, firm fingertips on his cheeks. His face so lovely and flushed, so sweet, so loving. Hot sweaty skin on skin, nearly molded together.
'I love you' and 'need you' flooding from his lips, willingly begging to fill you in that way he had been so, so resistant about before. Begging for everything that you wanted. Promises so easily falling off his tongue. Brain too addled by pleasure and love, that tight fluttery feel of your hot walls. Oh, your honey was so, so easy. Always with you. Only you.
His hands gripping your hips, his anchor. The slap of your plush ass against his firm, muscular thighs. Up, down, up, down. A ring of sticky, white cum around the base of his puffy cock, even more swirling in your velvet walls, moving up, up, up with every movement.
Again and again, and again. Until he was panting, words nothing more but whiny groans, chest heaving, eyes heavy and wet. Your hot, sweat-covered hands on his face, his neck, his shoulders, down his chest, gripping his heart. The sensation of your soft body, your loving coos, your warm legs locked around him the only things tethering him to reality. Overly sensitive cock choked between your plush hot walls, encased in the thick seed that no doubt painted your insides all the way to your womb.
Oh, your lovely, lovely honey. Just a little, tiny sacrifice for your perfect future together. He already loved you, all he needed was this little push, right?
Another snowflake falls onto your cheek, already flustered and stinging from the cold wind. Lashes wet and blurry with melted snow as you carefully adjust your phone in your mitten-covered hands, cheeks slightly puffed out in concentration.
Only the sound of your little phone camera fills the winter landscape. The dark wood of the cabin porch so stark against the blinding snow, the heavily blanketed green trees, and the carefully paved snowy path that led down to the resort town.
"You forgot your scarf."
The sound of the porch door sliding open behind you, that quiet, steady voice that always brightens your smile, makes your heart warm and soft. You're barely able to turn around to see him before you feel him.
The warmth of his fingertips against your cold cheeks, the soft fabric of your favorite scarf carefully wrapped around your chin, around the collar of your puffy jacket. Not quite red, not quite brown, but a soft color in between, the scarf that Sae had picked out for you. His own scarf neatly wrapped around his neck, the one you had picked out for him, the color that you liked best on him. A matching set. Bought so long ago yet still in perfect condition, the colors still as vibrant. You don't think the colors will ever fade.
"Let's take a selfie, Sae, we need it for our honeymoon photo album!"
Your silly giggle and twinkling eyes, the corners of your lips pushing at your cheeks as you clumsily try to reposition your phone, your wool mittens too bulky.
An amused snort before his hand smoothly reaches down to take your phone, holding it at the perfect angle (just like how you taught him). Your cheek against his, your smile bright and toothy, his soft yet just as warm, maybe even warmer. His arm around your shoulder, the puffy fabric of your coats squeaking against each other, the gentle sound of falling snow.
"Oh! These are absolutely perfect! Look how pretty it is with all the snow, coming here for our honeymoon was the best decision ever! "
You beam as the two of you look through the photos, cheeks still pressed together, his hand now on your hip. A soft exhale of breath as he looks at your face, his calloused thumb gently wiping the melted snowflakes off your cheeks. Teal eyes pale, nearly glowing in the blinding winter sun, full of your smiling face.
"You keep saying that."
You tilt your head a little, lips pouting in that familiar look of curiosity as you wait for him to continue. His thumb pressing a little firmer, gently rubbing against the cold, soft feel of your cheek, long fingers against your jaw, your scarf, the cold metal of his wedding ring an addicting sting against your flesh.
"Honeymoon. Last year in Okinawa, the year before that in Sicily…we've been married five years now, six tomorrow."
The flush of his cheeks a combination of the cold wind but also you. Always you. The soft amused curve of his lips, the continuous gentle rubbing of his thumb, needing to feel your skin. Teal eyes like melted ice, too full of adoration to ever fully freeze.
"Oh! Hmm…maybe because it always feels like a honeymoon when I'm with you?"
The cheeky shape of your smile, the little coy flutter of your lashes you attempt until you can't help but burst into dazzling laughter, only stopped by his fingers squishing your cheeks together.
"…Too cheesy."
A failed attempt at a scoff, lips too upturned and face too softened, too full of that palpable tenderness that always made you giddy.
The sweet, slow touch of his lips against your pouted ones, heated even in the wintry wind. His hand reaching for your mittened one, leading you gently back into the toasty warmth of the cabin. The crackling fire, the rose petal-covered bed, the table covered with your favorite dishes, the overly intricate cake. All arranged by your beloved Sae.
Angelfish - nsfw, 18+, Yo Hiori x f!reader wc: 2043
Your Yo-kun was like an angelfish. Beautiful. Cute. A little aggressive.
content: blind date, strangers to lovers, told in snippets, inexperienced!Hiori, blood mention, fingers in mouth, reader calls him 'Yo-kun' mainly, mentions of: dry humping, making out, oral (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, cosplay, vibrator usage in public
note: (click after reading for a fun surprise😆) inspired by this post from @kongkhoi (ty hiel!!🥰🥰🥰)
You were glad you decided to go on this date with Yo Hiori. You hadn't really known anything about him aside from what your friend had told you ("he's a professional footballer, he's a really good guy, give him a chance!"), but it seemed like your friend was right this time.
Hiori's gentle smile, his pale blue eyes and fluffy hair so lovely in the dim lighting of the restaurant, politely taking a bite of his food every now and then as the two of you conversed. Conversation came surprisingly easy despite his seemingly more quiet nature, he cared about what you had to say and held obvious interest, making an effort. So cute.
He reminded you of a sweet little kitten, curious and friendly but also with a bit of clear independence. You wanted to see past that gentle politeness, see how fondness looked on his face.
Would he be the clingy type? Wanting your attention and touch whenever he pleased, like a precious kitten? Arms wrapped around your waist, cheeks warm, sweet, needy words on his lips? Being the only one to get to see him like that?
It wouldn't be so bad to date a man like that..
You could feel your smile widen, push against your already flushed cheeks as you take another bite of the delicious meal. Eyes meeting his yet again. Dazzling in the candlelight. Captivating.
"I had a great time, I'd love to see you again."
Hiori's words soft and clear as he walked you out of the restaurant, insisting on walking you to the train station. He kept his pace slow to match up with yours, your arms occasionally bumping as you navigated the bustling city streets. (With every bump, you could feel the firm muscle that lay beneath that soft, loose sweater he wore. Could almost picture the thickness of his thighs, the solid lines of his abs.) He was too sweet, keeping close yet giving you distance. A small smile on his face every time the two of you made eye contact. He almost reminded you of a puppy. Did he want you that much?
You couldn't help but reach out to carefully hold his large hand, his fingers much longer compared to yours. Your heart beating faster as his own face brightened so beautifully, his hand shifting to properly hold yours. Palm against palm, his grip a little too tight before slightly loosening. He must be nervous. Adorable.
You wanted to see more.
"I'd love that too."
Maybe Hiori was more like a rabbit.
You couldn't help but giggle as you watched him maneuver through the crowded coffee shop, his face impassive aside from the slight furrow of his brows, the little scrunch of his nose. The drinks the two of you ordered kept carefully in his hands, his movements swift and quick-witted. Was this how he looked like while on the field? An energetic, quick rabbit? You couldn't wait to see at his game next Friday, he had already got you a ticket.
"Sorry 'bout the wait."
Your lips twitch upwards at the subtle lilt of his kansai accent. Over the past few weeks you had gotten to know Hiori, you had noticed it more and more. He has said it had weakened over the years since he rarely went back to Kyoto, but you could hear it come out in certain moments. Like when he talked about the latest video game he played. Or when he was a bit frazzled by something, like when that rude guy had bumped into you without apologizing. It always came out so easily when you visited him at his apartment, that fast, melodic cadence paired with the slight flush of his cheeks, that warm glow of his pale blue eyes, his knee slightly bumping yours as you watched another movie on his sofa.
Yo-kun truly was like his name. A sweet, innocent sheep. Just for you.
His breath hot and heavy against your wet lips, a string of saliva keeping you tethered to him. His eyes dark and lidded, chest rising against your hands. His thighs so solid and ridged against your ass, every little squeeze of his muscle felt despite the fabric between you. His baggy sweatpants doing very little to hide the massive bulge that presses achingly against your damp shorts, your soaked pussy, your stomach. His large hands trembling yet firm on your hips. Keeping you in place too easily.
"I..I don't wanna move too fast…I've never felt this way 'bout anyone before.."
A soft, needy pant against your lips, the next kiss so tender. He pulls back a bit, head lolling back against the sofa, his blue eyes glossy and mesmerizing. Mesmerizing like the fast thrum of his beating heart beneath your palm. Your heart no doubt the same. Aching butterflies in your tummy, that delicious warm heat that fills you from your head to your toes. Dizzying. Addicting.
Had you ever felt this way with anyone else before? You couldn't remember. Didn't need to remember.
"Then we'll take it slow, Yo-kun…"
You murmur breathily against his cheek, your shaky, hot hand gently caressing his now messy blue hair. Oh how your heart leapt as he slowly nuzzled against your palm. Affection nearly dripping from his eyes, the gentle curve of his smile widening.
Your cute, lovely sheep. You would take good care of him.
Well.
Maybe a sheep wasn't quite right either.
Your eyes watching him as he moved across the soccer field. You had managed to be able to make it to one of his practices and didn't want to miss the opportunity to see your Yo-kun in his element.
How he darted effortlessly across the field, synced up well with his teammates. Sure, some of the others were louder, more flamboyant in their efforts, but there was something about the quiet, precise movements of your Yo-kun that had you captivated. He was not to be underestimated.
Hmm.
"Ow!"
Stinging pain as you accidently bite your tongue, setting your chopsticks down to hold your mouth.
"What happened?"
Worry palpable in his voice as he quickly comes to your side, brows furrowed and lips slightly downturned.
"Ah, nothing, I just bit my tongue.."
You can't help but murmur, a little shy under the intensity of his light blue eyes.
"Let me see."
His long fingers gently prodding at your pouty lips, your mouth easily opening for him. His firm fingertips a little too heavy on your bleeding tongue, you can't help but wince.
"Hold still for me."
A gentle coo. Though it does little to soothe the firmness of his rub. But you wouldn't complain when your Yo-kun was looking at you so tenderly. He was just trying to help. It was nice.
Angelfish.
The pretty fish you spotted on that aquarium date with him. The vibrant sheen of the little fish darting in the tank so captivating. Beautiful. Cute. A little aggressive.
His sweet laugh as you pointed the little fish out. Your head against his arm, hand in hand. His eyes so perfect in the blue light of the aquarium. Luminescent like the scales of the angelfish.
That perfectly described your Yo-kun.
The way his eyes lit up at the first taste of your pussy. His glazed eyes unrelenting and dark as his grip tightens, chin tipping up to press his rosy lips more against your slick folds. His large hands easily tilting you hips to more effectively suckle at your clit. Dart into your tight little hole. Adding a finger. And then another. Another. Not letting up until you were boneless and babbling, your grip on his light blue hair so weak. A gentle chuckle as he caressed your messy, drenched pussy. Sweet little coos at your whines.
His eyes sparkling as he licks his slick covered fingers. The sheen of his damp chin, his wet, pearly smile your beacon in the dim light of his bedroom.
Your angelfish.
His birthday, You wanted to do something a little special. Dress up as that one character he liked. The outfit a little more revealing than needed. The way his eyes widened, his smile bright and cheeks so red, you couldn't help but beam under his clear adoration, your heart fluttering.
"You did this for me? I..wow.."
"It's your birthday, Yo-kun. Today we'll do whatever you want!"
You flutter your lashes sweetly, make that seductive little pout that always makes his blush reach the tips of his ears. Causes that little twitch of his knee.
"Whatever I want?" His eyes crinkle adoringly, sparkling, his smile blooming. Full and toothy. Boyish and unrestrained. He looked so wonderful like this. So dazzling. You wanted to make him smile like that always.
It takes him but a moment to decide what he wants.
His hand trailing up the soft flesh of your thigh, parting between the flimsy fabric of your costume, eliciting delicious goosebumps as he gently thumbs at your panties, so easily finding your clit. Looking up at you with those pale, bewitching eyes. His thumb pressing down a little bit firmer.
"Sit on my lap."
How could you ever say no to him? You wanted to give your Yo-kun everything he wanted. He deserved it.
Your angelfish.
The cheers loud around you in the packed stadium. The VIP seat that Hiori picked out for you was more empty, giving you space away from the rowdy crowd. Thank goodness..
An important game for the season, to determine who would proceed to the championship. Of course you would be there to cheer on your boyfriend.
Your precious angelfish.
Ah..
Wait..
That wasn't quite right.
Your eyes lidded and glossy as you tried your hardest to keep your concentration on him. Quivering lips hidden behind the soft, bulky fabric of the scarf Hiori had gifted you.
Your heavy eyes on his figure, calm and precise as he moved across the field. That long strand of blue hair bobbing in the wind. Reminiscent of something. A fuzzy blur in the back of your mind, easily lost to all the other sensations that frazzled your brain.
You could barely think. But you promised Yo-kun you would count all his goals, cheer the loudest for him. You had to be a good girl for your Hiori…
Another cool breeze through stadium going right up your coat. Your seat too cold against your bare thighs, your hands shaking as you attempted to pull your long, puffy coat down more to cover them. Yo-kun liked it when you wore his coat to his games, so oversized and baggy on you. It felt a little frumpy. But it was better this way.
Another string of drool dripping down your bottom lip as the crowd erupts into cheers. Ah. A goal. Your Yo-kun scored a goal.
Legs like jelly, thighs hot and damp as you stand up. You needed to cheer your Yo-kun on.
The little vibrator shifting as you stand, the once dull vibrations now pressing too perfectly against your already mushy, weeping clit. That familiar, tight, aching sensation of your lower stomach. A little whine on your tongue, your trembling hands gripping your coat. The tingling rub of your pointy, bare nipples against your coat. Toes squirming against the inside your shoes. Slick little droplets running down your thighs. Again. Again.
"A-Ahh…G-go oh! Mmm..Go Y-Yo-kun!"
Your debauched cry luckily lost in the endless sea of cheers, but never lost to Hiori's ears.
His head swiveling to your location in the stands. A bead of sweat down his cheek, eyes still narrowed from the effort of his play. His pale blue eyes glinting with that familiar intensity as they meet your fluttering gaze. Something dark and wicked lurking behind the soft pale blue of his eyes.
A reminder for what awaited you after this game. Your body writhing against his sheets, his favorite prize. Drowning to his hot touch, to cold metal and smooth silicone. Your tears, your never ending slick his most favorite dessert.
His smile-no, a grin. A sneer. Teeth pearly and sharp, jagged. Shiny. Tongue slightly peeking out between. Hungry. Counting down the minutes until he got to have you to himself.
18+,nsfw, meguru bachira x fem!reader, it's just smut, blowjob, semi-public, nipple play, riding, creampie, no panties, pro athlete au
Everyone knows that Meguru Bachira is obsessed with you. That's a given. His beloved girlfriend, set as his lock screen, the sickenly sweet pictures of you two together plastered in his locker in the team locker room. The ring he always keeps on the necklace around his neck, a promise for the future, a sign of his devotion despite the two of you not being together that long.
Always mentioning you in some way in his interviews. How he always seeks your face out in the crowd, especially when he scores, waving and sometimes blowing a kiss.
It was easy to see why. Your smile, your personality, your body, your humor, your beauty. Stunning on all fronts. Inside and out. His teammates would have joked and teased him about what on earth he had done to deserve you, but he had long since proved why that wasn't a good idea.
His arm around your shoulder or on your waist, grin bright and sweet like a love-sick puppy. Kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Obnoxious pet names. Always keeping you so close, always touching you, clinging to you. A menacing smile if anyone looked at you for just a little too long.
Wasn't he too obsessive? Too possessive? Wouldn't you get sick of it? How pathetic, he loved you so much more than you did him. That's what some people thought, no doubt.
But that's because they didn't get to see that look in your eyes when you watched him from the crowd. Lashes fluttering slow, biting your soft lips. Only the two of you knowing that you weren't wearing any panties under that cute outfit of yours, that they had been stuffed into his locker as a little good luck charm. A reward for later if he was good.
That piercing gaze that Meguru could feel in his bones, that kept him rock hard, body trembling in anticipation long after the adrenaline had worn off.
How you got down on your knees for him in the locker room shower, looking up at him with so much adoration, face nuzzled against his hot, sweaty cock, his jaw so tense as he tries not to cum right on the spot. Perfect lips wrapped flush around his cock.
Nose nestled against his damp pubic hair, throat so tight and warm, always too eager to swallow down his load, a hand on his firm ass, a teasing finger in his puckered little hole. His hands gripping your hair, chest heaving, whining and gasping for air, eyes lidded and heavy.
Keeping him in your mouth, even after he's softened, looking up at him with those blown-out, dazzling eyes of yours.
Until he's snotty and crying "baby, please!", until you're bouncing so greedily, so fondly on his swollen cock, pussy fluttery and so mushy. Lips on his cute little pointy, overly flushed nipples. Cooing and pressing him on with your sweet loving words, your affection, so willing to give, so willing to take.
Your cute little panties reduced to nothing more but a soiled little cum rag, ruined with your juices, his seed, and drool (saved for later, for those pesky away games that took him away from you).
How you happily clung to his arm as the two of you made it back to your shared apartment, his hand firm around yours, your grip just as needy. Smile sweet and bright. A chaste little kiss to his red cheek. Carefree, happy chatter, conversation always so natural between the two of you. Wearing his team jacket, marking you. Your perfume seeping into it so he would always think of you, marking him.
Pussy dripping with his cum, hot and sticky against the cool night breeze. Still eager for more, knowing that you would get more after the sweet little dinner he had planned for the two of you. Already imagining spreading your pussy lips open for him on your plush bed, losing yourself to his greedy touch. Oh, how you loved your precious Meguru…
Perhaps it was your obsession that had bred his obsession in the first place.
