tumblr should add a feature where instead of liking your mutuals' posts you teleport to their house and give them a biiig hug and tell them everything will be ok
to no one's surprise i'm thinking about kissing once again... specifically long, drawn out kisses that leave you breathless and unable to think about anything else. time presses on but feels unreal because they've infiltrated all of your senses, made reality bend. their lips and tongue press into yours, slow and intentional, yet somehow still desperate. the heat of their breath mingles with your own, wet and sultry, and your chests lift and fall together as you pull each other impossibly close, until space doesn't exist any longer. every chance you get, you're gasping for air a little, but it doesn't really matter to you as long as you don't have to pull away from them, ever.
byakuya kuchiki x reader, pre-relationship, set prior to turn back the pendulum. reader is from a noble family. <1k
Of all the places you could be on a day like today, the Gathering of the Nobles wouldn't even be on the bottom of the list. It would be on a separate list titled "Places You Would Never Wish to be Even if the World Was Ending and There Were No Other Options." Your birth didn't allow you such a choice, the Gathering being a required biennial event for nobility, but it didn't stop you from shoving a book between the layers of your robes before departing to the Shihoin Estate with your family.
You had made it five steps onto the pavilion before parents of young nobles approached your sister, all but begging for an introduction to their so-called wonderful child. None of these families would look to you when the heir to your clan was available. That made it easy to sneak away from the crowd and find a seat someplace quiet.
You assessed the immaculate space. Each table was carefully arranged by family rank. That would have placed you somewhere in the middle, you supposed. It might be advantageous to sit down right away. With everyone gathered to the standing room, you'd have a better chance of being ignored.
In the corner of your eye a nobleman and his daughter approached someone you recognized from the Soul Reaper Academy, seated at his table. He probably had the same idea as you, which sadly backfired. You scanned the pavilion for other options.
To your surprise, you spotted who you imagined would be the most sought-after young heir at the Gathering seated by himself on a bench faced outside. Sure, his attitude wasn't the best, but you knew many young noble women here would gain an incredible advantage by marrying into the Kuchiki Clan. He was certainly the most visually appealing of the eligible nobles. Many students at the Academy spoke of Byakuya Kuchiki's looks. He was quite elegant.
Perhaps his rank was too distinguished for anyone to freely approach Byakuya. That would explain the look you received that time you informed a classmate that you had been training Zanjutsu with Byakuya in private.
Nonetheless, a gawk was better than failing in Zanjutsu, and it would certainly beat withstanding the pomp and circumstance of the Gathering. So you crossed the pavilion, narrowly avoiding families and tables alike, and sat down next to him.
You didn't give the young lord a chance to react before you huffed a breath and swiped your book from its hiding place.
"This seems to be the only quiet place here," you said, flipping your book to the spot you left off.
Byakuya didn't reply, but you noticed him in the corner of your eye adjusting his posture and shifting far too much. You lost your place more times than you wished; your field of vision snagging on him like a misprint on the page before you.
"Is there a problem?" You didn't look away from your book as you spoke.
He stilled. "You're going to make me look bad."
"Why," you started playfully, "are you afraid I will ruin your chances of betrothal?"
"I have no interest in frivolous matchmaking," he said immediately, his tone growing clipped. "It's rude to show up to a social event with a book."
You began to swing your legs, fiddling with the open page of your tome. "You should know by now that I don't quite care what these people think of me, Lordling."
The way you carried yourself at the Academy was proof enough. You were even so bold as to pull out "that book of yours" - as Byakuya often called it - during footwork demonstrations. You hardly reacted to the scolding your instructor gave you.
"I have a title to uphold," he said, fighting the impatience in his voice.
You closed your book. "It wouldn't insult me if you asked me to leave."
Byakuya didn't say anything, he simply crossed his arms in annoyance. After a moment you stood, accepting his gruff non-answer, and began to scan the room for another place to escape.
As if they were waiting for your departure, a family shuffled toward the bench, watching Byakuya with interest. You chose to ignore their presence. It wasn't your problem.
Just as your gaze found a cozy-looking spot on the other side of the pavilion, a hand closed itself around your wrist.
"Wait," he said, stopping you. "I'll keep you company." You turned to look at Byakuya in time to watch him puff up his chest. As if he were doing you a favor.
You choked on a laugh. "Are you suggesting you're better company than Human History Volume 4?"
Byakuya's face contorted between vexation and schooled politeness, and you watched, amused.
You wouldn't move from where you stood until he cracked, and at last he did; sighing deeply and looking to you for mercy. "Please?"
Content with his manners, you sat back down and stowed your book away. The observing family turned away in disappointment.
"Very well," you said, crossing your legs as you looked at him eagerly. "Let me tell you about the last chapter I read."
Byakuya stopped himself from rolling his eyes, but listened to your summary carefully, and the two of you debated the topic well into the evening, staving off suitors while you did so. By the time you separated to go home, you mentally moved the Gathering up your list. At least, as long as the young lord would be there.
perfect night for lovemaking, letting the windows open to have the cool night air kiss your hot and sweaty skins. lips smacking, hands holding tightly to one another, the creak of the bed at every sweet and deep thrust. his eyes scanning your body and softening when they meet yours, him kissing your salty skin and biting to leave marks to remind you in the morning of how much he loves you, praises whispered in between kisses, next to the shell of your ear so that only you and the night breeze will hear
Ahem. Telling your f/o that they give your pussy butterflies when they sweet talk you, but not just leaving it at that—giving them a demonstration of exactly what you mean. Having them nestle inside you and say what they said again, whatever sweet praise or pet name made your head spin, specifically so they can feel the way that you flutter and pulse around them. Watching the realization dawn on their face that oh, you really weren’t kidding, weren’t just saying that to be sexy or cute. No, you meant that they really do turn you on that much, that just some pretty words or the way their voice sounds can make you respond that way, your pretty little cunt so eager for them.
the worst writing crime you can ever commit in my opinion is watering down the dirty talk because you’re self-conscious that it sounds like it’s from a bad porno…..i cannot stress this enough……leave it alone. the moment you tell yourself he would not fucking say that you’re doomed. people will say almost anything if their dick is hard enough
