𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒿𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓎'𝓈 𝐵𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓇𝓎

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ᥫ᭡ bela (she / her)

hello and welcome to my bakery! I'm the owner of this blog and will try to keep uploads consistent and don't be shy to request something off menu!

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╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ᥫ᭡ Blog Info

𑣲║ Father Satoru Beach Day

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

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"Babe, when did you last sun screen her?" you hear your husband ask while you lounge on the beach chair. The waves crash in the background to mix with the seagulls caws, and your daughter's happy giggles as she dips her feet into the ocean.

"When we first got out," you replied as you sat under the umbrella and beach chair your man set out for you.

"She might burn then— I'll reapply."

"Satoru that was 30 minutes ago and it was SPF 50," you finally open your eyes to see the man digging through your beach bag to retrieve more sun screen.

Ever since the two of you got here on your vacation, he's been adamant on keeping a routine schedule of hydration and sunscreen application for your four year old daughter: Hina. That was fine and all, but his fixation on it was a bit exhausting. I mean he didn't let her swim in the pool for more than fifteen minutes without having her take a sip of gatorade.

"She has my genes, so maybe she'll burn easily. I don't want my princess hurting."

You sighed and just heard your husband start calling your daughter back up to the two of you— it's a wonder he even let her approach the shore alone.

"Aw look at that— your nose is getting pink," he mumbled while slathering on the liquid face sunscreen so she looked like a snowman.

"Can we go boogie boarding?" she asks while ignoring Satoru's large hands gently rubbing the protectant in.

"In a second baby. The sunscreen needs to dry," you just see him already reaching for the spray bottle while misting her body in it. She wiggles and squirms away due to the cold temperature, so she decides to try and climb into your beach chair with you.

"Can we go boogie boarding now?"

"What did your daddy tell you?" you ask since she's gotten a bit of a habit of going between parents until she's found the answer she wanted.

"We'll go boogie boarding in a second baby," Satoru says while collecting Hina's hair in his hand and pushing it to the side, off of her back, to spray sunscreen there too. Since she was facing you, she was at a vulnerable spot for Satoru's sunscreen attack which just made her reach back and swat at his hand.

"Am I done with the sunscreen now?" the impatient four year old asks while playing with a long necklace you hadn't taken off yet.

"For at least 30 minutes you are," he just retorts while tossing the sunscreen bottle back into the beach bag.

She swiftly climbs off your chair, careful of your legs, and plops her feet down onto the sand. Already you know she's darting towards the $20 boogie board she picked out: one with a unicorn on the front.

"Daddy, can we go?" she turns to Satoru while holding the board that was nearly the same size as her, but was the smallest the store had.

"Okay, I think I've made you wait long enough," he says with a smile while bending down to pick up his board: a purple octopus on the front that your daughter also picked out.

Of course Satoru insisted he also got an overpriced boogie board so he could bond over the same activity; however, you knew he just wanted to do it himself.

Hina just cheers and turns to run down to the water, but Satoru quickly calls out for her to slow down: she did. Your husband turns back towards you for a moment while holding onto the twine attached to the octopus board.

"Watch me catch these waves, babe."

"You're boogie boarding with a four year old."

"But I'll look hot doing it— just for you, of course," he adds with a wink and turns; high knee stepping across the sand in his palm tree swim trunks.

Needless to say, the white haired man repeatively wiped out and would come up, not so gracefully, from the water gasping for air while your daughter laughed at him.

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¡𑣲║ ¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! x ¡Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: making out, dry humping, pet names, breast play, praises, male masturbation

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¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who somewhat accepted he wasn't going to find a woman to love once he met his thirties. Don't get him wrong, he didn't think his life was over or it was too late— he was only thirty six— but he thought there was no point.

Working as a Jujutsu Sorcerer drains the life from someone, and being an office salesman for some shady company felt equivalent. In the end, Nanami felt hopelessly tired every day and thinking about adding a woman onto that was practically like hitting the last nail into the coffin. It took all he had to drag himself to his local bar to enjoy a whiskey highball before dragging himself home to his Tokyo apartment.

It wasn't until one night, after a horrific work day, did he sit down on the bar stool and meet you. He was quietly winding down with soft jazz music playing in the background while taking periodic sips of his drink when you came sauntering over.

"Hello, do you mind if I sit here?" you asked as you stood by his side. Looking over, he noticed there was at least several more empty seats spaced out you could've chosen.

"Sure," he managed to mumble back before turning his attention back to the drink possessing half melted ice.

"What drink do you have?" clearly, you weren't taking his brisk replies to heart as you kept persisting.

"Whiskey highball."

"Would you recommend it?"

"It's alright I suppose," he said and then realized how rude he must've been coming off, so he quickly followed up: "It's good. I always get them."

You gave a sweet smile that had Nanami instinctively softening for a moment, but then his eyes scan over your face a bit longer. You lacked any true wrinkles that were a sign of age, nor did you have the melancholic lull of voice Nanami had noticed his peers typically carried.

You ordered the drink while Nanami just cleared his throat and looked away. Meanwhile, your eyes went back to him as you contemplated another conversation.

"Hard day, huh?" you casually said while adjusting yourself in your seat to cross your legs.

"Just the usual."

"Uh huh. Well for me," you began since it was clear he wouldn't carry the conversation himself, "I have work piling up. Deadlines all seem to be due at the same time and I'm still trying to catch up."

He nodded his head to that as he remembered the pile of paperwork waiting on his desk for when he arrived tomorrow morning.

"And with finals coming up and all," your sentence drawls out since it seems self explanatory. However, Nanami just stilled for a moment. 'Finals?' As in finals you take in university? God, you were still a student in university? "Just so much happening at once."

He heard your mumbles and watched the bartender place your glass down, but he was still too occupied with estimating your age.

"Do you come to these bars often?"

"What?" he's snapped out of his thoughts.

You giggled, the flirty kind that has him shrinking away on behalf of his moral compass: "I said, do you come to these bars often?"

"Just after work sometimes."

"You don't have a woman to get home to?"

He's clearing his throat after that one as he glanced away. Never in his life had he met a young woman this persistent. Were they like this ten years ago? He couldn't remember.

"No, I don't."

"Oh, that's surprising, but good for me, right?" you replied playfully whilst taking a sip of the drink he recommended.

"Look, sweetheart," he begins in a softer voice because he knew you're young and he didn't want to come off as abrasive, "don't you think, you're—.. I don't know, talking to a man a bit too old?" he carefully asks. Mentally, Nanami was hoping you'd agree and back off.

"I think I'm talking to a man who's just fine— more than fine."

"You're still in university—"

"I'm about to be a senior this year," you interrupt.

Though your words offer no peace of mind as Nanami exhales heavily through his nose: "So you're what? Twenty two?"

"I'm twenty four— took two gap years."

The way you said it subtly annoyed Nanami; acting as if twenty four was any better in this scenario.

"My point still stands. I'm too old to be talking to you," Nanami drinks the last bit of his whiskey before setting the glass down. His mind traces back to all his odd coworkers that were his age or older with a young woman on their arm and how disturbed he felt. He didn't plan on forgetting that weird feeling simply because this twenty something year old was looking at him.

"Fine then. Let's just be friends, or are you too old for that as well?"

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who is typically so stoic and composed. He has heard a plethora of people describe him as a 'well reserved' and 'respectable' man, but he felt like he was falling behind on those titles. As of lately, he felt more restless and the only thing he could possibly think that was new to the mix was you.

You two found each other nearly every night at the same bar, but you were easily learning more about one another. Eventually, Nanami noticed how you weren't even ordering drinks anymore as you took your seat and began talking to him.

Suddenly the simple conversations started to feel more like a date when you'd lean forward and laugh at something he said whilst placing a hand on his forearm. Initially he kept brushing you off, but it gradually became harder to do.

It practically became a tradition for you to ask him out at the end of the night when he decided to leave, he'd turn you down, pay whatever bill the two of you accumulated, then left. You tried telling him he didn't need to cover the drink considering you're basically forcing him to converse, but he just said there's better things for a college student to waste money on.

Nanami got use to this little routine, but you were planning ways to get out of the same mundane cycle. You loved talking to Nanami, but he had a strict program so whenever you got into the 'touchy' subjects— seeing each other out of the bar, previous lovers, his type in woman— he swiftly changed the topic.

Eventually, you finally got him to hold the conversation despite veering off into, what he liked to consider, dangerous territory.

"So you really don't have any women at home?"

"You seriously think I'd be here if I did?" he asked back; almost offended while looking over. Yet again, your drink was water while he nursed his usual glass of whiskey.

"Oh no no! I just find it surprising. I'm sure you turn down plenty of women then," you backtracked. Of course you didn't think he was the type of man to cheat; if you did, you wouldn't be talking to him.

"Well I could say the same about you," he quipped, "you should have a boyfriend occupying your time instead of staying in this dingy bar."

"Are you offering?"

"Honey," he started, but then stopped when he realized there was no point. At the same time, you were focused on how your heart fluttered at the pet name. Nanami had a subconscious choice of referring to you casually by name, or saying something like honey or sweetheart. Not only did it make you feel like he was paying closer attention to whatever you were saying, but his deep, smooth voice addressing you so tenderly did wonders.

"What?" you continued when he stopped his sentence.

He was silent for a few seconds as his eyes traced around the rim of his glass before looking over. "I am being serious. There's plenty of nice men at your university to meet, so you should focus on them. I'm really not all that interesting."

The way he said it made your chest compress; he sounded somewhat distant and detached. It sounded like he just wanted you to give up so he can return back to the same melancholy he's mentioned subtly in conversations.

"Why can't I just talk to you?"

"You know why."

"I don't agree with any reasoning you've given. You claim to be boring but I've never been bored talking to you. We're both at a perfectly fine age. I don't want to talk to other guys when I could just talk to you."

He's staring at you for a while as you vehemently defended your chase for him. He catches the way your eyes roll when you reiterate how he always said an old man like him cannot keep up with you. He thinks quietly while mulling over all possibilities and trying to figure out which would be better. He knows what he desires, but he didn't want to jeopardize you in the process of selfishly giving in.

"Alright fine."

"Wait," you perk up quickly, "you want to date me?"

"Well let's start off with one date first before you decide anything."

"We've already been on plenty of dates?" you said while referring to the many nights you two spent on the same bar stools you now sat on.

He pauses, glancing around the bar: sticky wooden tables, floors that creak obnoxiously, dim lights that would begin to hurt his eyes. Finally, he looks back to you: "Sweetheart, I'd never take you to a place like this for a date."

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who was never great with his phone, but how a newfound use for it. Previously the two of you hadn't swapped cell numbers because he was adamant on not letting you get too into this whole situation, but after he agreed to giving it a shot it was the first thing you were doing.

"I'm already on my contacts app."

"No, it'd be easier for me to just send you a text and then you save my number," you explained while reaching for his phone and he just let you swipe it from his hands.

"That's not how I've previously done it?"

"Just trust me," and he did.

Once he got your phone number, he got use to the frequent text. It's not like you were spamming him or anything, but Nanami had been so use to only the occasional call from Gojo, which was never good, to be the only notification.

Now he was getting messages from you as you updated him about whatever class you were in or sending him photos of your nails freshly manicured or just how hard it was pouring at your apartment off campus.

You knew he'd seen the message considering he unknowingly had his read receipts on, but it'd always take him at least five minutes to reply. You'd see the text bubble pop up, then disappear, then reappear again at least several times before he'd finally send the message. Typically, it was a thumbs up emoji or short sentences like 'Very cool' or 'That's good.'

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who meant it when he said you two wouldn't be attending some random local bar as a date.

When he took you to a first official date, it immediately started with him picking you up and driving you across town. You rambled the entire car ride as he intently listened and whenever you'd get quiet, he'd ask a follow up question.

Once he got to the nice restaurant, he mindlessly hopped out of the car quick and crossed to your side to open the door.

Mentally, you were checking off all the boxes. He followed the sidewalk rule and kept you on the inside. When he got to the entrance, he held open the door for two older women walking out and then allowed you inside. The waiting area was slightly crowded so he kept a cautious hand hovering your lower back while walking to the host stand and saying he had a reservation.

He had you order whatever you liked for the appetizer, your own entree, and of course dessert. Do you even have to mention the obvious fact that when it was time to pay he swiftly pulled out his card without hesitation?

"Are you sure? I'm really fine with splitting," you said since you saw those prices on the menu— not cheap.

"Of course not. I'm the one who took you here. I'd rather you spend the money on something personal," he insisted while sliding the card into the check and setting it at the side for the waitress.

"Fine, I'll just cover our next date."

"Sure," he sarcastically mumbled while sipping on the expensive red wine he ordered.

"I'm being serious! Let me treat you next!"

"Fine. Maybe you can handle the next date," you practically cheered at his words; specifically, that he agreed there'd be another date.

What you didn't expect was for that next 'date' to be sitting in a park and eating ice cream. He somewhat held his word with allowing you to tip the workers, but he payed for the two ice creams.

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who, despite his fears, was one of the best men you've ever dated. Sure, it's not like you've been together that long, but he still unknowingly proved himself to you every day.

Whenever you were stressed out about something, he didn't make you feel little or ashamed about it. Though most of all: he didn't make you ever feel like an inconvenience.

"I don't know I just... ugh. I'm underdressed, I can physically feel my makeup weighing me down, and I know eating steak will hurt my stomach right now."

The two of you were sitting in Nanami's car right outside the restaurant he's already driven you to. His hand is on your thigh as he gently slides it up and down reassuringly; just listening to your complaints.

"Would you like to go back home? We can go to my apartment, or I can drop you off at yours if you're done for the night."

"No you already drove me here. I just need to get over it," you mumbled as your hand went to the door handle. He's quicker though and swiftly leans over and captures it before you can get out.

"Sweetheart it's no issue if you want to leave. You can stay with me tonight and we'll order something to my apartment."

"But you've already drove out here."

Nanami just scoffs at that: "That doesn't matter to me. I don't want to eat here if you're going to be upset." At this point he just takes over and grabs the seatbelt and pulls it back over you before clicking it in the clasp.

You stayed silent while watching as he smoothly reverses the car and exits the fancy restaurants parking lot. You finally speak up once he stops at the intersection: "Are you sure you're not upset? I feel childish making us leave."

"You're not childish? You've had a lot on your plate and you'd just rather stay home tonight. I assure you, I'm perfectly fine with this," his thumb pressed comforting circles into your thigh.

"Well... Thank you."

"No reason to thank me," he says while glancing over to you as you sat in the passenger seat. He smiled softly and leaned over; pressing a kiss against your cheek before pulling back when the light changed to green.

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who feels like an amateur when it comes to initiating touch or any physical intimacy. The first few months he strictly strayed away from it, but eventually he felt the desire creeping in

Nanami has been with women of course; multiple women like most men in their thirties have. Though, he hasn't been with a single woman since his late twenties and now he's nearing his forties. His sex drive basically became nonexistent as he fell into the same mundane schedule and lost interest in those things. Maybe he'd feel the need once or twice a month, but that was really all he cared for.

Although as he stayed with you longer and 'sleepovers' became more common, it got a lot more difficult to keep himself in check.

You lying beneath his satin sheets and curled into him? Nanami was mentally on another planet focusing on doing paper work just so he wouldn't get hard.

You wore that one sundress that showed the curves of your breast or shorter skirt that allowed him to see the smooth skin of your thighs? Nanami wouldn't stop staring between just your eyes and the scenery around.

He called you around nine a.m expecting you to be awake, but in reality you'd slept in? He'd hear that sweet sleepy slur to your words and would drag a hand over his face while trying to act normal.

Poor Nanami felt like a weirdo whenever he'd stare at the pictures you sent him and suddenly feel blood rush downwards. What he didn't know was how you did half of these things on purpose. Maybe you intentionally were showing a necklace you got with your cleavage on full display hoping he'd say something. Perhaps you taking a photo of yourself at the apartment complexes pool in just your swimming suit was on purpose. However, Nanami wasn't getting the hint.

"Looks beautiful sweetie" he'd reply as if you didn't just send him a photo with 90% tits.

"Make sure you sunscreen up" was all he had to say after you posed yourself for an embarrassingly long time so he could see the full body image?

Meanwhile, what you didn't know was Nanami would close his eyes and imagine your pretty face and whatever photos you sent while he palmed himself through his pants. Eventually, his hand would be wrapping around his girth while pretending it was your soft one sliding up and down his sensitive length.

He'd teasingly trace his finger around the head of his cock like he's seen you do to drink glasses rims. He'd grossly picture how your hands look that one time you two were making dinner at his house and you were washing the vegetables.

His dirty thoughts helped paint a picture that would have him helplessly bucking his hips into his hand while he came with a low groan; falling back into his bed pathetically.

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who was genuinely faltering the first time you made a clear move on him. The two of you were reclined on his couch while some movie you wanted to watch played. At some point it was interrupted as your attention shifts and you began to rant to him about something pertaining the movie.

Eventually you got so side tracked to where you were only paying attention to how his blonde hair, with speckled bits of white, was laid perfectly and his tired eyes were focused on you entirely. His arm laid across the head rest of the couch and behind you, so he felt intimately close. You couldn't possibly hold yourself back from kissing the man, so that's how you ended up escalating it until you were slowly grinding on his lap as you two made out.

He tried to be considerate and just gently rested his palms on your hips, but every time you dragged your body down to meet the bulge in his pants, he tensed up.

The kiss was messy as your fingers curled around the nape of his neck and felt his shorter, groomed hair along it. He felt the manicured nails, that he paid for, scrape against his scalp and make him jerk his hips up slightly to meet yours.

One of your hands slide down to his wrist and pull it upwards so his hand is traveling under your shirt and to your soft chest. Instantly, his hand is gently massaging one breast while his pointer finger brushing over your nipple. You just had cotton shorts and a thin pajama shirt on since you were spending the night, so you were dressed comfortably.

You pulled away from the kiss and he could see how your lips were slightly swollen and glossy, then his eyes darted to yours.

"You're gorgeous darling," he whispered as he leaned his head back into the couch, breathing a bit heavily, and his eyes return to scanning up and down your body. The hand that rested on your hip began to just slide up and down your side leisurely. He could see your harden nipples beneath your shirt as his finger smoothed over it; making you flinch with a small gasp.

Your movement only made his dick jump too in his boxers.

"I want more," you mumble as your hand left leading his and instead went to his shoulder before dragging down his chest.

"Yeah? What 'more' do you want?" he teased as he leaned his body up and lifted your shirt up so it bunched around your collarbones. He could properly see your breast, so he stared for a moment while watching them rise and fall with each breath you took.

"Don't tease me old man."

Nanami softly laughed at that as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss between your tits before peppering a series of them all over.

"I'm not baby— just use your words."

One hand gradually shifted from your waist to instead the small of your back as he pushes you forward: causing you to instinctively arch your back. His other hand remained on your breast as he delicately squeezed it while massaging— his mouth worked on the neglected one.

"Kento," you softly whined while your nails scraped against his scalp and caused him to let out a low groan. He lapped at your skin, as if tasting it, then would give an open mouth kiss.

"Use your words," he repeated a bit more sternly.

"Kento, please, I want you," you whimpered as one of your hands went and grabbed his wrist while pulling it off of your breast. You guided it downwards until you slipped his fingertips under your cotton shorts and he did the rest. His fingers brushing against the wetness that dripped onto your panties as you just looked at him with pouty lips.

"Good girl," he breathlessly said as he leaned in and gave you another kiss as his fingers began to steadily knead at your clit.

¡Older Boyfriend Nanami! who finally felt like his life was worth living after he met you a year ago. You pulled him out of the depressing repetitive cycle he gradually began to accept.

He's not even sure if he could ever explain to you what you've done for him, but he tries to every day.

He does whatever he can to take care of you and support you. Hell he's even offered to help pay any student loans or your apartments rent, but you speedily denied.

"Kento, I've been doing it all on my own for years. I don't need someone coming in and taking over," you explained after he sat you down and said he was interested in trying to help you. It's not that he thought you couldn't manage on your own— he knew better— it's just that he saw the stress it gave you.

He'd have to hear about you applying for another job or cancelling a date because your boss rescheduled you. In his eyes, you were a college student so that was your job. Really, a privileged mindset.

"I know, but I think you might should focus on your school a bit more. I don't mind and it's your last year: you should enjoy it."

"There's hardly been anything enjoyable about university," you muttered. The warm cup of tea he brewed for you sat between your hands. The two of you were seated at his kitchen table enjoying breakfast— not so much now.

"It's cause you should focus on the activities your school offers. You know, I saw a banner in the coffee shop that was for a club you might be interested in," he thoughtfully said. Sometimes he really could annoy you through his persistence, but then again you somewhat put yourself in this situation.

"Maybe I would've had more time if I didn't have to chase a certain man for months."

"You're deflecting, honey."

"I know," you mumbled and glanced away.

After a few moments of silence, he exhaled through his nose and leaned over the table slightly so his hand could gently envelop yours.

"I don't mean to be overbearing. I just... worry. You have your whole life to work, so you should take some time to enjoy things," he tried to explain. "Aren't you hoping to pursue your masters degree after this?"

"I mean, yeah."

"Then you need to really start prioritizing your education. I'm not saying to quit your jobs— you're building great work ethic. I'd just wish you'd enjoy your youth more. I know I wish I did."

His words somewhat pained you. Kento, for some reason, never talked about his past that much. Maybe he'd share a silly story, but for the most part it was a topic you two never broached on. Though whatever it was, you knew it wasn't a good time in his life considering how much he avoided speaking about it.

You sighed, giving up this battle: "Okay, I get what you mean."

"So will you let me help with some bills?" he asked with hopefulness in his voice.

"Mphm.. Not now. We can think about it more in a few months— if your offer still stands."

Nanami nodded and just took your retreat as a sign of victory as he got up from the table and kissed your temple. "Thank you. I will plan on discussing this again. Would you like any more pancakes?" he then asks while already taking your plate and loading a few on that he was letting cool down.

Attack on Titan Fics

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

ᥫ᭡ = smut / suggestive

♡ = fluff

Erwin Smith

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ oneshot

♡ ¡Commander Erwin Smith! x ¡Captain Reader!

𑣲║ ¡Commander Erwin Smith! x ¡Captain Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

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Erwin had practically closed himself off to anyone ever since Wall Maria fell. That's not to say he was talking to many before the titan led massacre began, but any interest he had in others faded after 20% of Paradis population was demolished.

Afterwards, he entirely shifted focus onto training cadets and building the Survey Corps to its full potential while wrangling with knowledge discovered after Eren's transformation. In short: shit hit the celling years ago and Erwin Smith was still left trying to finding equal footing after the world turned upside down.

He convinced himself love or a chance at a family was in the wind and far behind where he stood now. Trying to find a woman to love while he willingly risked his life every day was selfish and idiotic. After all, his death wasn't even the only thing he was to fear when considering a relationship with another. The military police have been on his ass for years and would jump at any opportunity to get under his skin or force him to compromise if they were to use a lover against him.

So why, despite knowing all of this, could he not talk himself out of longing for you? For always seeking you first during a meeting, for you were a sectional captain like Hange or Levi. For keeping an eye on your form to ensure you made it back within the walls after an expedition. He knew it was wrong to begin to develop sentiments towards another, especially a subordinate, but he couldn't force himself and reason enough to stop.

That same inability to come to terms with him being unable to ever truly love you is what led him to this.

He had privately requested you come to his office to discuss something. Upon arrival, he ushered you in and pulled out the chair across from his, behind the desk, for you before sitting down in his.

"Hello Commander," you politely greeted like a well trained solider would. Erwin hummed in appreciation of your pleasantries, but he did crave for you to just say his name normally sometimes.

"Good evening. I'll be frank with you as to not occupy too much of your training time," he stated since he had pulled you away from helping teach the newer recruits, "you are to not join the Survey Corps on the next expedition."

You paused as you stared at him for a moment while wrapping your head around this new information. The Survey Corps already had a dwindling number of soldiers, so why would he willingly decrease that number more? Especially when the next expedition was to reconquer Wall Maria with the help of Eren Yeagers titan ability.

"Sir, if I may, have I done something wrong to be withdrawn?" you questioned. Your mind racked through all circumstances: you hadn't severely messed up the last expedition nor did you think you'd done something to have him question your loyalty.

"Ah, well I'd just rather a squad captain stay behind to help the newest regimen train," Erwin quickly reasoned as he said the same line he's rehearsed for the past several minutes before calling you in. He knew damn well there was no good excuse for keeping you behind. At least there was no good one besides the fact that Erwin didn't want to risk losing you— a good enough reason for him.

You let his answer pass, but your questioning hadn't yet ceased: "Will my troop continue or stay behind with me?"

"They'll continue under another squad leaders commandment. I'll likely choose to split the group between Miche, and his senior officers: Nanaba and Gelgar."

Each word was methodically chosen in hope of eliminating any more questions from you. The less you asked, the easier it was for him to create a loose story. As you stared intently into his eyes with unwavering trust to not further ask about why you were chosen to linger behind, guilt swarmed in his chest.

You looked gorgeous sitting across from him in a uniform he despised you wearing. Your eyes looked askance, but your mouth remained closed as you decided your commander wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the plan.

"Alright, is that all?"

"Yes, you may return to your regular duties," he said while quickly standing so he could make it to the door before you did and hold it open for you. As you stood up and he rounded his desk corner, he easily got distracted and paused on his heel.

You were simply raising yourself out of the leather armchair, but Erwin would see the quiet contemplation in your eyes that were half covered by hair falling out of place. Mindlessly, he raised a hand and brushed the few strand aside in order to view your face more clearly.

The moment his eyes finally met yours, he instantaneously realized he fucked up and let his hand drop away from your face. You looked at him with slightly shocked eyes, because since when did the Survey Corps Commander ever touched someone that softly?

After a few silent seconds passed, you decided to take the initiative of clearing the awkward air and brought your own hand up to tuck any more loose strands behind your hair.

"Thank you— I'll have to redo my hair before training the new cadets," you said while pretending your heart wasn't about to beat out of your chest. Erwin still wasn't saying anything as he stared down at you with icy eyes. He eventually gives a nod of acknowledgment and steps back.

"That would be a wise choice," he muttered while watching your form retreating back towards the door. He hesitated on he's feet for a moment while contemplating everything that's been happening in the last five years condensed into these few seconds.

When was the last time he felt at ease and his mind wasn't rambling on about finding the answer he's been seeking his whole life?

When was the last time he felt a comforting touch?

His feet were moving against the hardwood before he realized it as his hand caught your wrist and pulled you back around to face him.

When was the last time he even kissed another? It was before Wall Maria fell and he realized the horrors that awaited humanity, and that which dwelled in it.

His azure eyes scanned over your face while retracing your lips, eyelashes, cheeks, eyebrows— all features he's committed to memory. All features he would see whenever it was late at night and he'd close his eyes. Before any logical thought could hold him back, suppress the one desire he was willing to give into, his free hand tilted your face up while his lips met yours.

At first you were shocked and didn't reciprocate, but after feeling his gentle affection your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back. You felt his thumb gingerly stroke your cheek as his hand cradled your face. Your hand that wasn't being held by his steadily came up to rest on his broad shoulder; eventually slipping into the short undercut on his nape.

He didn't force his tongue down your throat like some impatient animal, nor did he attempt to push you against the wall and deepen the kiss.

The kiss remains steady and tender until he unhurriedly breaks it and pulls away from your lips. His thumb that had been caressing your cheek instead ventured to brush against your lower lip as his eyes softened more than you'd ever seen.

Through his eyes you could see everything he's been hiding. All his secrets laid on full display so he was vulnerable and free to be subjected to your judgment. What captured you most was the inescapable need for someone that lingered in his gaze.

"Is everything alright?" he quietly asks: testing the waters and ensuring you're fine. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, or make you feel forced to allow this due to his position of authority.

At your silence, he felt dread seeping in like the blood on his comrades green cloak after a failed mission. Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over him and trapped him beneath the surface as he jumped to the conclusion that he's ruined this.

His hand falls away from yours and his palm leaves your cheek. He's preparing himself to step back, clear his throat, and apologize whilst readying himself for the theoretical chance of you threatening to report him. After all, a high ranking official, such as the Commander of the Survey Corps, fraternizing with a subordinate was looked down upon. Would he be terminated? Certainty not— in a fair and equal world maybe, but this was the corrupted system he had to consider.

"No, no— everything is alright. I'm alright," your voice breaks his consuming thoughts.

"Are you sure? I do not mean to overstep anything—"

"I'm sure. I just—," you paused for a brief moment before continuing, "I just hadn't been expecting anything."

"So, you wouldn't mind if..." he voice drawled out as he let you mentally finish the sentence. Your hand gravitated back towards his shoulder as his hands sought refuge on your waist.

When you began to lean upwards as an answer, he leaned down and met you halfway in searing kiss. This one far more intimate as his finger brushed along where your white shirt was tucked in— standard requirement for the uniform. His wrist brushed against the cropped tan jacket that wore the wings of freedom symbol embroidered over your left breast.

His fingers cautiously increase their grip along your hips as he pulls you closer, but a sudden rap of knocks breaks his focus. He's immediately pulling back as his eyes snapped towards the door. Hands still encasing your hips, he speaks up.

"Yes? Who is it?" his voice trained back to the usual deep, monotoned tune.

"It's Levi. Here to discuss the reassignments," he heard on the other side. It quickly dawned on Erwin that he'd planned a meeting shortly after yours to discuss with Levi how the proceedings will continue with the expedition.

"Ah, well just a moment, please. I'm finishing a meeting," Erwin replied before his gaze returned to you. He could tell you're flustered and he's internally wondering when was the last time he saw a woman like this— far too long ago.

"I-I'll just," you mumbled while softly pulling away from him. He watches you for a moment, then gives a nod of approval as his hands fall from your body, but not before catching your hand to keep you close so he could tell you one last thing.

"If you'd like, my office will be free later tonight between seven to nine. Feel free to stop by, but only if you're comfortable," he whispers while ensuring he's really emphasizing that it's your choice.

You couldn't help but feel a slight smile tug at your lips while you hear how sincere he sounded: "I will," you just confirm.

Then, his hand gently slips away from yours as he steps towards the door to open it for you— like he originally meant to do.

He holds the large wooden door open as you step outwards into the hallway and saw where Captain Levi had been leaning with his back against the wall: waiting. You step out of Erwin's office and he straightens up and looks at you.

He gave a small nod of acknowledgment before his eyes paused on your face for a moment, then darted to Erwin's. Though before he can put much thought behind his words, the Commander is swiftly speaking up: "Captain Levi, please come in. My apologies for keeping you waiting."

With that, you step around Levi as he steps into the door frame and casts one last glance to you before retraining his sights on the blonde man.

"All fine," he responded as the door slowly creaked closed and you were left in the hallway alone; the press of Erwin's lips against yours still fresh on your mind.

𑣲║ ¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! x ¡Barista Reader!

casual & fluff

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

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¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who doesn't even like coffee much to begin with. As an athlete, he has plenty of nutritionist breathing down his neck about how coffee interferes with the bodies ability to absorb certain nutrients or it can heighten anxiety.

Overall, he usually chooses to ignore the beverage. Especially when considering the cups of creamer people add into it— it was far too similar to milk. However, he woke up from only sleeping two hours after he spent most of the night analyzing the other teams playing style. In simple words: he needed a 'pick me up' and the easiest thing he could get his hands on is coffee.

Though being in an unfamiliar city, he was forced to surf the internet for decent cafes until he landed on one within walking distance of the luxury hotel. Bastard München left Germany about a week ago to attend some training camp in another country; therefore, he's been quite occupied and took no time to do sight seeing.

So as he followed the instructions playing on his phone, he took in the different architecture and street life that was a sharp contrast to Germany's. When he finally arrived at his destination, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked into the small, welcoming atmosphere.

The coffee aroma was strong, obviously, but there was a hint of sweetness he could trace back to the pastries in glass casing along the front counter. His eyes just fixated on the menu hanging while trying to translate the words in his head.

Blue Lock did allow the players to utilize the translators outside of just football practices and matches, but he was trying to strengthen his language skills since he planned on being a global football player.

He just waited his turn in the long line and mentally focused on pronunciation of his order.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who upon first seeing you was awe struck for a moment. You tilted your head up to look at him as you wore the typical customer service smile despite the way he blankly stared down at you.

"Hello! What would you like to order?" your voice rang out and echoed in his ears. His original plan and practice he committed to went flying out of his head the moment your eyes focused on him and waited for his reply.

"Ah hello," he visibly paused while he eyes flew back up to the menu over your head so he could gather some composure. Although you of course couldn't have noticed his slight panic, for his face remained vacant and portrayed no sign of shock. "I would like the black coffee," he replied in a thick German accent as his gaze fell back onto you.

You gave a nod and tapped a few things on the screen before turning it to him so he could swipe his card. As he entered it, you were busy staring up at the rather tall man. You looked at the tattoo that crawled up his neck and disappeared beneath his casual shirt. His eyes were a magnetic blue that matched the tips of his, otherwise blonde, hair. When he tapped his pin onto the screen, you could see the subtle way his muscles tensed and ripped beneath his forearm.

"Your drink will be out quickly if you'd just like to wait by the counter," you said with that peppy voice before turning to grab a disposable cup. Your other coworker was busy preparing a latte, so you took it upon yourself to swiftly grab the plain black coffee.

The blonde and blue haired man didn't say anything besides a hum since you turned away so quickly to begin preparing his drink. Retreating to the counter he suspected you referred to, he tried getting on his phone and tapping through apps to distract himself and not look weird.

Finally, you were placing the top on the cup and turning to him.

"Here you go— have a nice day!" you politely said while he got the memo and was taking the cup out of your hand.

"You too," he also did an attempt of being polite even though his face remained deadpanned as he stared. Your eyes just lingered on him for a second; observing him and memorizing since he had that model face you only saw a few times in your life.

Snapping out of it, you gave a quick nod with a smile and turned to begin taking someone else's order as your coworker walked up to the counter and sat down another drink.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who found himself walking the now familiar path back to the cafe you worked at.

God he was getting sick of the damn caffeine intake everyday, but at least he'd been balancing it out by ordering another dessert— his nutritionist and dietitian would not be pleased. He specifically liked the ones most people didn't bother with: bread rusk. Whenever you'd overestimate the amount of sweet bread needed for a container or needed to generally trim it down, you were left with scraps; therefore, you repurposed them.

You'd take the extra scraps and coat them in a thin layer of sweet butter before slowly baking them until they were golden and slightly crunchy. Typically, you'd sell a few and then give freebies to the last customers, but recently you'd been selling out.

The man you first 'met' early in the week— wickedly tall, thick German accent, sharp blue eyes, all the qualities stuck in your head— had been coming back every morning.

You soon began to characterize him with all the other regulars every time you greeted and asked if it'll be the same today. The exchanges were short and brisk with the farthest the two of you getting was a 'how are you today?' followed by an actual answer. Other than that, Michael hadn't had any luck striking a more interesting conversation.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who also found himself developing a new habit of being late to morning practice. Well not 'late,' but he was arriving only 10 minutes before the practice starts in comparison to his usual 30.

Originally, no one was commenting and just assumed he might be sleeping in later for comfort. Hell, maybe his awful bed hair started to take longer to tame in the mornings. Needless to say, no one was questioning Michael. Besides, his extra beauty sleep seemed to be getting him in a much better mood than his team is used to.

Still, a particular magenta haired teammate did not appreciate the switch up. Anytime he'd think about confronting Michael, he was hit with a sudden pang of anxiety that would make him retreat.

After all, who was he to question the king? Point made.

However, after Michael did fuck up and missed the usual train because he had to wait longer in line due to Wednesday morning rush, he was late to the practice.

As he casually jogged onto the field, he just saw his teammates lined up in front of the coach. He nonchalantly slid in beside Alexis Ness, where the man already created a spot for him, and stared straight ahead to the coach.

"Michael?" he heard a softer voice call out in a whisper beside him. Though Michael's eyes stayed forward and locked on the coach explaining a certain drill. "Michael?"

The second Alexis called his name for a second time, he whipped his head to the side and stared. "What? You're being so fucking loud," he muttered: agitated.

"Oh, sorry I-.. I uh.. just was wondering if you've been.. doing extra morning training o-or something.. since you've been late," Ness mumbles.

"What? Are you my keeper now? Worry about your own damn self," he snapped back and just stared back at the coach to catch the last bit of instructions.

"Sorry."

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who is returning to the cafe yet again and is delighted to see you working. One time he walked in and you were no where to be seen, so he did get a bit more pissy the rest of the day.

As he walked in this morning and was hit by the now familiar coffee bean scent, he just saw your pretty face behind the counter. No one else was in the cafe so he must've just beat the morning rush as he walked up to the counter. Some coworker he hadn't seen before had his back turned as he swept under the booths.

Upon seeing his face, you instantly perked up and stopped scrolling on your phone; instead sliding it swiftly into the pocket of your apron. "Oh good morning! Will you like the usual?"

"Good morning. Yes," he replied in the accent you'd grown to love. Was it weird to find an accent so fascinating to listen to? You had asked a friend while telling her all about the cute man who started stopping by the cafe, and she called you an 'accentphilic—' whatever the hell that meant.

Michael on the other hand was stressing about how this was the perfect time to ask you out, or at least talk to you besides the typical customer to worker interaction. If he would've known this would be the day he talked to you, he would've worn a compression tshirt or something to show off.

"Not many people here right now," he forced himself to say whilst standing by the counter. He had been staring at you while you fished out the sugared bread rusk, but it dawned on him how weird that might look so he adverted his gaze. Now he was just staring out a window and trying to act casual.

"Usually people file in here around 7, so you barely beat the morning rush hour," you reply whilst securing the sugary pastry into the small bag so someone can walk while holding it.

"Ah, that's good," he mumbled before realizing he needed another talking point. "So do you like the coffee here?" immediately, the man wanted to slap himself and hide.

"Well I'm not too much of a coffee person, but I do enjoy the iced coffees sometimes," damn you were already grabbing the cup to put his drink in. Michael felt about as stressed as he is when the football match is in overtime, he's watching the minute count down, and he still has yet to score one point.

"I haven't tried iced coffee."

"Maybe you can get it the next time you come in? It'll be sweeter than the black coffee, but I think it's more refreshing."

"Maybe we could try it—"

Before Michael could finish trying to slowly approach the idea of asking you on a date, he heard an obnoxious voice ring out: "Hey, aren't you that football player?"

He turned and just saw where your coworker finally stopped sweeping the floors and turned his attention to the other man in the cafe. If looks could kill, your coworker would've dropped like a fly.

"Yeah you are! I'd recognize the tattoo— Michael Kaiser, right? I thought I heard something about this city hosting some typa thing for others," he obliviously continues to talk while even walking up to Michael.

On the other hand, you were quietly watching the two. It would make sense considering the handsome man you'd been crushing on clearly worked out and had an athletic build. You set his coffee down on the counter and the sound of it made him snap out of his disgusted glare.

"Thank you, have a good day," and with that Michael snatched the coffee and ignored how your coworker just stood without any response.

Michael could've literally lunged at that man for giving away who he was. Sure, some people knew him— people into football or saw a brand deal— but he's been managing to avoid them for the most part. Now, at the worst time possible, someone interrupted him just as he finally got the courage to talk to you!

Meanwhile, you stood awestruck in the cafe as you watched him dash out the door.

"That was him, right?" you hear your coworker ask while walking behind the counter and setting the broom aside.

"His name is Michael, but I don't know. I don't know all the different athletes."

"You should know him at least— he had a German accent right? Oh it's definitely him... God, I should've asked for a signature or some shit."

The next customer walked in as the bell chimed and you tried to push whatever the hell just happened out of your mind.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who's been contemplating on even going back to the cafe. His training in this country will end within the next 2 days, so he's not even sure if it's worth potentially humiliating himself. He already ran out of the cafe the other day. Michael didn't know if it was self conceded to say this, though he didn't really care, but he noticed people would treat him differently after learning he was a paid athlete. What if you did too?

After much consideration that lasted the entire day, he finally decided he would go back to the cafe in the morning.

Walking back into the establishment felt daunting as he heard the ring of the bell and stepped inside. He ensured to go around the same time he did the previous day so hopefully there won't be any other customers— he was right.

He didn't even spot that guy, your coworker, who ruined everything last time. Though if he did, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hold back from snapping at him today.

Looking up when you heard the bell, you immediately stood straighter upon seeing the recognizable man. "Good morning! Would you like your usual?" you asked— completely casual and normal. Michael suddenly felt silly for having been so worried about coming back.

"Yes, please."

You turned and began to make his order. Like yesterday, Michael takes it upon himself to start a conversation.

"What is with the people in the streets?" he abruptly asked which made you pause and look over. You tried to consider what he meant as you shook the small plastic bag and the bread rusk fell into order.

"Do you mean the farmers market?" you suggested since you knew your city was having one— they had one every Friday. "You're talking about the people with the tables and selling things, right?"

"Yes, yes them," he confirmed as you set his bread rusk aside and began brewing the black coffee. However, instead of normal, the conversation didn't end there.

"Then yeah it's the farmers market. Have you not been to the one here before?" you questioned, but of course already knew the answer. After your coworker freaking out yesterday about meeting one of Bastard München's star players, you took it upon yourself to look the man up.

His online player stats of 186 centimeters, 19 years old, plays forward position all came up: it checked out. With knowing this you also knew his team was only in town to attend some practice camp filled with scrimmages against other teams, so he was a tourist in the area.

"No, I haven't been. Do you like shopping there?"

"I mean it's alright sometimes. They have one seller who makes pretty cool jewelry."

"Would you like to go?" he inquires in an indifferent tone, but how his attention was trained on you said he wasn't as laid back as he appeared to be. "With me, I mean," he clarifies.

"Oh um," you looked away as you placed the lid on his drink and walked over to the counter, "Yes— yes we can go to it. It's Friday through Saturday and I'm off tomorrow, so that'll be a better time for me."

Michael took his drink from your hand while he didn't look away. He did the calculations in his head, and he just had one practice match in the morning and the rest of the day free. "Saturday works for me. Can we just meet in front of here around eleven?" he suggests since it's close to the farmers market, and probably close to where you lived since you worked at the cafe.

"That works for me!"

"Great. See you soon," Michael says while walking towards the door. You had a bright smile that seemed to infect him, for his lips slowly tugged into a small grin as well.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who was twenty minutes ahead of the set plan you two made, but you also seemed to have had the same idea as you show up early too.

The two of you strolled to the farmers market and leisurely walked about it. You went to different booths that had jewelry, clothes, and even a whole row selling treats from other countries. Whilst looking at the options, you noticed how each stand had the flag representing the specific food being sold from that country.

There was a variety of South American and European flags, but the one belonging to the stand you saw Michael lingering at was the German one.

"Are you going to get something here?" you asked, since he hadn't bought anything yet whereas you purchased a few items.

"Hm," he hummed while eyeing the selection, then gave a small nod and walked up to the booth. As he approached, an older woman working the stand stood up from her chair.

"Can I get," he began in the language he'd been speaking for the past week while staying in the unfamiliar city. Though the older woman quickly noticed his accent and spoke up.

"Sprichst du auch Deutsch?"

Instantaneously, you noticed Michael look away from the selection and instead at the older women: "Ja, das tue ich. Können wir die apfelstrudel haben?"

Although you couldn't understand a word, you noticed the woman's eyes light up as she replied to him in German and continued a short conversation. You watched the woman package an apple strudel and Michael fish out the money, but the woman quickly said something. He put some cash back while replying, then handed her the fewer bills.

After what you could only imagine was him saying goodbye, he started walking and you followed. Only then did you finally ask: "Did she mark down the price?" for you did notice he gave about half of what was listed as the price.

"Yes— we also have more so you can try some," he mentioned while walking down the busy street to the next booth for you two to look at.

¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who, although you couldn't tell due to his straight face, thoroughly enjoyed what he'd call a 'date.'

Though he did on several occasions have to subtly steer you away from two blue headed idiots he loathed— whom are also on his team. They must've chosen to go sight seeing since tomorrow his team was to return to Germany.

After the sun already set and the two of you made it back to the front of the cafe, he politely asks: "Would you like me to walk you home?" He hoped it didn't come off as weird, but even though he didn't know what nightlife was like in the city, he figured he should still ask.

"Oh no, it's okay. I actually live right above the cafe— in the apartments," you retorted with the same smile he'd grown to crave.

He awkwardly paused and just nodded. He didn't dare suggest going back up to your apartment— he didn't want this to be that kind of date, nor did he want you to think it was.

"Ah okay."

"But I would like to exchange numbers. Kinda old fashion to keep communication to in person, or via pigeon," you joked as he looked down at you.

Although Micheal usually never smiled, much less laugh, at others attempts to joke with him: he did just give a small smile and nod.

"Okay, I like that," then the two of you were switching cells to input your number into his phone, and vice versa.

Then, he was off back to his hotel and to pack his bags for the airport tomorrow. He truly felt remorse for even asking you on the date to begin with the longer he thought about it.

Was it rude of him? He should've just asked you in the beginning of the week, when he first saw you, instead of waiting till the literal end of his trip. Guilt subtly gnawed at him when he reflects on how he never told you he wouldn't see you again.

Maybe he should text you and act like he's suddenly going back early? Then again, what about that pesky coworker of yours. The man might've known how long the training camp for the football teams lasted, so he might casually slip that it's over and Michael won't be back in the cafe.

That was an even worse circumstance.

The entire agonizing walk back to his hotel had him mulling over potential options and the downsides. Eventually he's landing on just texting you that he had a great time, but unfortunately his trip was over soon— since when the hell did Michael Kaiser put this much thought into another person?

Sure he's talked to girls before, but he's never literally been stuck pondering how to softly let them down.

Never mind that; his plan was made. As he set foot back into his personal hotel room, he's picking his phone out of his pocket as he feels it vibrate. For a moment he was horrified in thinking you've texted him first asking to schedule another date, but he pauses as he reads the message.

'The stay is being extended another several days due to Paris X Gen agreeing to a scrimmage at this location. Hotel rooms will not be switched and instead just extended. Apologies for late notice."

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𑣲║ ¡Desperate Husband Satoru! x ¡Wife Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

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¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who genuinely worships the ground you walk on. Not in some mediocre "my wife just tells me what to do" skit many husbands try to play into; despite the fact that, in his opinion, it makes things harder on the wife. I mean if you had to tell your husband to do simple things, then how is it even helpful! Who cares if he follows your orders if he can't discern whether or not to take out the trash or wash the dishes himself.

So no, Satoru isn't one of those husbands who waits for your holy word to follow. Instead he takes initiative and handles things before you can even bring them up.

Your gas is low when you're driving home one afternoon? The next time you get in your car he's already refilled it without you ever mentioning.

Your favorite snacks are running out but you forgot to put them on the grocery list for the week? He's already keeping a mental track of things like that and will stop by the store on his way home from work to restock.

You casually mention a show or movie once? He's looked up streaming platforms to watch it on so he can ask after dinner one night if you'd like to see it. He just loves seeing your face light up as you claim: 'I've wanted to watch that too!'

In short, Satoru practically feels like he exists to find ways to please his beautiful sweetheart. Although you don't even notice all the little deeds he does for you, he doesn't need your praise to be encouraged to do loving acts.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who cannot handle arguments between the two of you. While it was seldom, it was bound to happen at some point when the two of you are practically on top of each other every day all day.

Though Satoru would never call what the two of you do a 'fight.' He found the word far more aggressive in comparison to the how you two just bickering or vent to each other. You could get annoyed with his excessive antics and Satoru's annoyance usually stemmed from your silence, but your husband couldn't recall ever being mad with you.

Well that's somewhat a lie. Satoru did get upset with you recently after you ignored his warnings and bypassed his 'rule.'

"What did I say?" his muttered while sitting beside your form as you laid, immobile, in the shared bed.

"To not climb the ladder."

"And what did you do?"

It was quiet for a beat before you spoke up: "I climbed the ladder," you mumbled.

It wasn't that Satoru thought you couldn't hang the photo frame on your own— he just found it impractical. Why wouldn't you wait till he got home so he could hang it up while you told him how to adjust it to your liking? On top of that, Satoru was taller than you so he had better reach and therefore wouldn't have to lean farther off the ladder to hang the frame.

Now, because of you convincing yourself he was overdramatic when he left this morning after making you pinky promise to not try it on your own, you laid in bed with a sprained ankle. Satoru of course took you straight to the doctors to get it checked on after he got back and noticed you oddly refusing to stand up to hug him or at least walk to give him a normal kiss on his cheek.

The doctors told the both of you that you just managed to sprain your ankle pretty bad, but it'd heal within the next two week. Though after that visit, you really debated on having Satoru get his hearing check because he acted like the doctor told him you were to die if he didn't tend to you 24/7.

"Don't move. I need to keep it elevated and iced," Satoru said seriously as he sat close to your legs in bed and hovered the ice pack over your ankle. He didn't want to to press down on the swollen area, so he just decided to manually hover it for 20 minutes.

"Satoru, it's okay. I just need to get up for a snack," you reasoned and tried to shift, but felt his hand swiftly shoot to sprawl over you stomach and hold you down.

"No, I'll get you a snack."

"Fine, then I just want to get up and move," for sitting down all day was driving you crazy. Your husband just scoffed at the idea and lifted his hand from your stomach so he could soothingly rub it over your thigh.

"l'll carry you to wherever you want. Just don't apply any pressure anywhere."

The next few days Satoru took care of you entirely until you finally convinced him it was fine for you to go to the bathroom alone.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who felt like he fell in love with you every time he saw you. It didn't matter if you simply got your hair or nails done: he pretended like it was the biggest moment of his week and he had to stop and compliment you at least a dozen times.

So whenever you went shopping and got back, you just had to give him a fashion show of everything.

"Oh yeah— I really like this one on you honey," he'd mumble absentmindedly as he sat on the bed with you between his spread legs. His hands sliding up and down your hips: feeling the material to ensure it's up to par.

"Are you sure? I got both colors so I'm trying to pick which is better—"

"Just keep both," he interrupted while his hands stilled on your hips. His eyes were now staring into yours and finally not gawking at how the dress stretched over your chest.

"It was kinda expensive though."

"Keep both," he reiterated as his fingers just pinches at the fabric along your hips. His eyes fell back down to look over your body, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. A sly smile spread across his face when an idea pops into his head: "Do you have panties on under this?"

"Oh my god. You perv— I'm not done with the fashion show," your hands go to his wrist and pull them off, but he just readjust. He shakes your hand off his wrist and instead goes to the slit in the dress and your exposed knee. He slid his hand up so the fabric of the dress ruffled as it reached your upper thigh.

"I can see what else you bought later," his large hand was already curled around your thigh as his fingers slowly inched upwards. "So you going to let me check or what?"

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who refused to go anywhere without you. If the two of you were invited but you chose not to go yet insist he should, he might consider it. Though if he's invited and you're explicitly not, he's sure as hell isn't going.

"Satoru it's fine if you want to go out with them. I go out with my friends on 'girls night,' it's the same if you only go out with your friends on 'boys night.' "

Though Satoru is just staring at you, arms crossed, standing in the living room. The two of you had been watching a movie together when he got up to make more popcorn. His phone had gone off and he checked it and saw it was some of his friends asking if they should meet up at some bar.

Satoru texted back saying he could probably go and he'd ask you, but one friend was quick to say, 'no chicks allowed besides the ones we pick up at the bar bud.' Satoru was not thrilled to see that text. When the popcorn finished and he walked back into the room to set it on the table, he retold you this story; your response less than satisfactory while he stood as if offended.

"Baby why on Earth would I want to go somewhere you weren't invited? That's weird," he reasoned while looking at you skeptically. Was he actually offended you didn't see the issue with this?

"It's just a night out. I go out with my friends too—"

"But that's different because I'm invited too," he swiftly reasoned.

"That's because you're funny. None of the other husbands or boyfriends are invited," you reasoned, "and you still don't go majority of the time anyways!"

Your friends loved Satoru because anyone could see how he obsessed over you. Whenever you'd host a get together for a holiday or just to see everyone, whoever arrived first would be greeted with the sight of Satoru excitedly hanging the banners or organizing the charcuterie boards to your liking.

They also loved Satoru because of how sweet he was. At the get togethers, he'd spend the night refilling the fruit trays and chip bowls like he was actually working for the event. He'd carry on conversations with effortless charisma and crack jokes at the right moments.

Truth be told, your friends all knew how mopey he probably gets when he's at home or literally anywhere without you. They just can't bring themselves to purposefully subjugate him to that, so the offer is always extended to him.

"Because you and your friends should have some alone time?" he replied as if it was basic common sense that answered your question. Sometimes you really didn't know how his mind worked.

"You and your friends should also have some alone time."

"Well this is different because they didn't invite you. It's weird if I go with them when spouses aren't invited," he rationed while sitting back down beside you on the couch.

"But I don't want you to miss out—"

"I'm not going. I don't even like drinking anyways and the bars they pick are icky."

You just sighed and accepted he wouldn't get over this. Meanwhile he takes your silence as acceptance and just cozies himself beside beside you. His arm is draped around your shoulder as he unpauses the movie.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who didn't understand how all husbands didn't do what he did. He honestly thought it was all common knowledge to do whatever you can to help those you love; however, after hearing how some of your friends talked about their man, he realized that wasn't the case.

"Girl. Then that heifer forgot to set out the chicken so it could thaw. So after getting home from my shift and seeing he'd been sitting on his ass the whole day, he asks me: 'what's for dinner?' Now how the hell would I cook him dinner when he couldn't even set out the fucking chicken?" your friend explains the story with an annoyed tone.

You were hosting those monthly get together with your friends, so the topic of 'things my husband did that pissed me off' came up of course. Satoru, despite being a husband, was allowed out of the bedroom and sat beside you on the couch to just listened to your friend's story with a dropped jaw.

The whole night he listened to how one woman's husband forgot to pick up her medication from the pharmacy, so it closed and she had to skip a dosage which set off a migraine. Another woman's boyfriend said they should work out together because he thought she 'needed it.' One woman's, luckily now divorced husband, gave her an STI that she had to figure it out herself— also figuring out he'd been cheating.

Basically, Satoru was horrified with all the things he was hearing and your friends thought it was funny to keep piling on stories.

His shocked expression and swift response of 'well what did you do after that?' or 'oh no— he's for the streets,' sent the women into a spiral of laughter. The stories baffled him and had him literally clutching his shirt; as if he was an old woman clutching her pearls. Eventually, he just had to excuse himself to refill the potato chips.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who was not slick at anything he did. He literally couldn't get away with anything because he always, inadvertently, gave himself away.

He could have gotten you a present for whatever occasion, or maybe just because, and he's basically bouncing on his heels to ask you what you thought it was days before he'd let you open it. He had a problem with getting you birthdays gifts and then bothering you the days leading up to it with questions.

"So, sweetie, what do you think I got you?" he'd ask while strolling up behind you as you slid some cookies you made onto your plate. He wrap you in a hug as his chest pressed to your back: "It's really good. What do you think it is? That necklace you—"

"Did you get me the necklace you saw me looking at?" you'd reply, playing into his game. Though he'd pause, then pull off of you to instead lean his hip against the kitchen counter.

With a serious face and sharpened blue eyes, he'd ask: "How'd you know that? Did you peak?"

"Satoru. You literally just said that as my first hint."

Even worse than his horrible habit of telling secrets: he failed miserably at candid photos. Of course he loves capturing you all pretty and posed, but you frequently got annoyed if he stopped you too many times.

So as you two strolled through the botanical gardens and you paused to look at a gorgeous array of flowers, he naturally is whipping out his phone.

He holds it close to his chest but far enough away to properly see the screen so he can snap the picture. Though as he stares at his phone to ensure you're in shot, he pauses as he realizes you're looking at him.

You had turned to ask him whether or not he thought the flower was a deep magenta or a light red, but froze after seeing him. Obliviously, your husband was zoned it on trying to take a photo of you gazing at the flowers— he instead just looked like a creep.

"Satoru, what are you doing?" you'd ask as he finally whips his head up and pockets his phone.

"Just checking the time," he'd try to causally reply and pray no one else in the gardens saw that embarrassing display besides you.

What more, Satoru never learned his lesson! It was a given your husband sucked at using his phone. The blindfold hindered his vision and his large hands had trouble clicking the smaller screen.

Still, that didn't excuse how many times he'd mess up. Specifically, how he always was texting the wrong person and even accidentally calling people. Frequently, you'd get text you knew he meant to send to someone else.

"Hey Nanamin, picking up flowers for the wifey so I'll be a bit late. Don't miss me too much ;)"

You stared at the text for a few seconds before sighing and just replying: "Wrong number. You need to start checking the name before you send people things."

That day he came home upset with himself for spoiling the surprise, but at least you got a beautiful arrangement of your favorite flowers.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who patiently waits for you to finish your nighttime routine so you could lay in bed with him.

If you preferred to take a shower that night, he's sitting beside the bathroom countertop and talking to you as you bathe. Sure he'd love to join you in the shower, but sometimes you ban him because him 'washing your back' quickly turns into more. He could feel like passing out, but the moment an opportunity arises with you, it's like he's taken a shot of five hour energy.

If your nighttime routine just called for the usual hair, teeth, skincare, then he'd just lay on the bed and look at you through the bathroom door that connected the bedroom to spacious bathroom. He'd just sit and stare while watching you methodically complete all the steps.

Once you finally finished and would step back into the room, he was eagerly tapping the spot beside him, your side of the bed, and waiting for you to climb in so he can give you a goodnight kiss.

Satoru couldn't fall asleep without that kiss, so whenever he was on missions far away, he'd have to pitifully lay in the hotel bed alone. He would just try to picture the line of pillows he set up beside him was your body so he could cuddle into it.

¡Desperate Husband Satoru! who wouldn't say he's got jealousy issues, but sometimes actions speak louder than words. He honestly doesn't know what to call it because it's not like he's so insecure that he's uncomfortable with you talking to other men. He couldn't care less if you had a 'male friend' or whatever it was that people made a big deal out of.

He was sometimes skeptical just because he loves you so much and couldn't imagine why someone else wouldn't, but he trusted you enough to not hang around those who want more from you than a platonic relationship.

What Satoru did care about was the random men in public ogling. He didn't like it when men would come up to his wife as if he wasn't even there! He knew how damn attractive you were and he didn't care other people recognized it too, but he didn't appreciate uncomfortable stares targeted at you.

"Can you believe that! Just walked up to you as if I hadn't been standing right here," the white haired man complains while standing in the produce section of the grocery store. A man had come up to you the moment Satoru stepped away to the frozen section.

When Satoru came back and saw the man gawking at you disturbingly and profusely complimenting you, his skin crawled while he was quick to sling an arm around your waist. Casually questioning how he knew you, but the man quickly muttered an apology and scurried away.

"I can't let you out of my sight here. It's dangerous," he said a bit too seriously while his eyes scanned the store comedically.

"It's our local grocery store— not some sketchy bar."

"That just makes it worse! That means no where is safe!" he dramatically says before pulling you into his side, away from the strawberries, and giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Don't worry baby. Your big, strong, attentive, loving, passionate, handsome, fearless, 6'4, husband will keep you safe."

𑣲║ Sukuna's Wife Snapping at Him

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

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Sukuna's now been sitting at the head of the dining room table for exactly 7 minutes and 23 seconds— he'd know because he's counting the seconds in his head— while you chew him out. His two sets of arms are crossed, face is straight, and food left untouched on the table.

"Are you even listening to me?" you finally snapped after you noticed how his eyes drifted to mindlessly stare at the chicken breast on the table.

"Yes, I'm listening," he muttered back and forced his eyes to retrain on you.

This entire argument began because you were a few minutes late to the dinner table. It's your time of the month and you decided to treat yourself to a nice bath and try to decompress. Additionally, the warm scented water helped soothe your cramps, so you may have taken longer than expected. How could you have known you'd spend a hour in the bath on accident!

Bottom line: you swiftly leaped out of the bath and just threw on a cozy lounge outfit that was satin and flowy before making your way to dinner. You should've known Sukuna would be pissy about it though since he's gotten in his head that the dinner table is a divine time which should never be interrupted or delayed.

So, once you got to dinner and the servants opened the doors, you knew you were in for it when his crimson eyes cut towards you. You just quickly made your way to your seat and focused on the delicious meal the cook had prepared.

"You're late," he said: as if if was some announcement and you didn't already know.

"I know, I know. I was just taking a nice bath and it helped lessen my cramps so I lost track of time—"

"That's no excuse," his words cutting off your explanation as you sent him a side eye before turning your face to look at him fully. "Your menstrual cycle isn't a justification for missing a predetermined time. Do you even know how many minutes I've been—"

This time it was your turn to interrupt him as your snippy reply rang out: "Woah woah woah. I said it's some excuse. I was just explaining it and you could be a bit more sympathetic for me."

Sukuna scoffed and leaned back into his chair whilst dropping the fork he'd picked up. "You're unpleasant like this. Won't listen to reason nor do you admit when—"

"I'm 'unpleasant?' Let's see how unpleasant you are if I crawl inside of you and rip at your—" yeah so that's how the argument started now 8 minutes ago. The servants just awkwardly stood along side the sliding doors and stared ahead while pretending like the Lord of this house wasn't being chewed up and spit out by his, usually sweet, wife.

Him claiming he's been listening to your rant as if he hadn't zoned out severed to anger you more: "Oh you're listening are you? Are you? Because if you did we wouldn't keep having this conversation!"

He sighed: "Woman—" your head ticked to the side slightly while your eyes glared daggers made him instantly reword his statement, "Dear, you are correct. I should be more lenient during your menstruation process. I will make note of this."

"Not 'lenient—' I need you groveling at my feet during this time since it's the least you can do. Matter of fact, this whole argument is too much. I want to move dinner to the bathing chambers."

"For godsake," he's pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes clench, "we're going to eat dinner and converse like we're supposed to do."

"Yes. We shall eat dinner and converse while I lay in my bath and you sit beside it," you reasoned with a shrug as you finally see your husband peel himself away from hiding his expressions in his hand.

He's staring at you in disbelief for a good minute while taking into consideration the argument is now up to 10 minutes going on 11. He knows damn well if it drags on much longer, the room temperature food will grow cold.

"... Begin preparing a bath," he muttered as a servant practically sprinted out of the doors and to the bathing chamber. Another servant hesitantly approached the table to begin picking up the plates to transfer them like you suggested. Although cautious at first since Sukuna seemed like he was desperately holding himself back from lashing out, the servant quickly grabbed the plates upon seeing your welcoming smile and your outstretched hand as you handed your plate to him.

That's how the both of you got to this position: you laying comfortably in the warm vanilla and sandalwood scented bath while he's sitting on the tiles beside it. You have one of those wooden boards constructed to arch between either side of the bath and provide a platform to which you set your plate on. Sukuna just balanced his plate of food on his lap as he listens to you happily speak about any random interests and your day.

"You know, I think we should do this more often," you joyfully announced while picking through your vegetables to specifically eat the roasted potatoes first.

"We have the dining room table for a reason," your husband murmurs while his fork skewers a piece of chicken that fell off the bone. While you seemed delighted to stretch out in the bath, he on the other hand was cramped. He just had to hunch his 7 foot frame over his plate so he could eat.

"Yeah, but I've gotten bored of that. Tomorrow, we can switch to eating in our bed. Oh! Then the next day maybe the garden."

Sukuna just forced himself not to grumble about the idea of crumbs in his bed or bugs zipping by his ears.

"I'll look into it if that's what you want," he muttered.

In the end, you knew you'd eventually eat dinner wherever you said.

𑣲║ ¡Best Friend Sae! x ¡Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Part One ↠ Part Two

Word Count: 8.0K

Warnings: making out, dry humping, cock blocked, sexual thoughts, handjob, fingering, penetration, dirty talk, praising, pet names (baby), after care, cum eating, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no condom), shy reader, Sae being a sweetheart

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Sae and you have now been dating for several weeks, but it felt as if nothing has changed. Before you two 'officially' got together, you had always been touchy and affectionate with the man. So to an outsider, it seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Even your parents, Rin's brother, and his teammates all didn't catch onto what was happening. Then again, you two were reluctant to tell them. Telling either of your families would mean certain 'rules' would be placed and, knowing your parents, they'd suddenly freak out at the idea of you spending the night with him. You'd been doing it for years, but you understood having a label would act as flipping a switch in their brains.

As for anyone in Sae's life, he just didn't see the reason to tell them. It wasn't that he was necessarily trying to hide it, but no one was asking so he wasn't going to spring it into a conversation. Of course if you ever mentioned that you felt as if he was trying to hide you, he'd quickly alert the whole town so everyone knew. Though after talking to you, he began making a conscious effort to steer clear of any relationship conversation.

Due to the two of you agreeing not to tell others as to keep the relationship a secret, it benefited each of you when it came to the media revolving Sae. Whenever he came back to Japan, of course sports journalist were quick to rush to him with questions and request for interviews. Hell there were even a few articles that did mention you, but quickly lost traction when people realized you, at the time, had a boyfriend and were just friends with the athlete.

Sae knew that despite his love life having no effect on the official matches he plays, people would still maneuver into it and cause problems which was something he absolutely did not want you dealing with. He's played with players who had girlfriends and the media was often ruthless with how they would target the poor girls. Yeah, if that happened to you his career would probably be over from going off on someone. He just kept you in the dark about that stuff though.

The one that that had changed between the two of you was the level of 'touchiness' you'd go. There was occasional kisses and more cuddling which often resulted with you laying across him. However, now whenever you woke up first you'd feel something hard pressed against your inner thigh from where you managed to throw your leg over him in your sleep. Quietly, you'd just shift as to not have him wake up and the both of you awkwardly pretend he didn't get hard while sleeping beside you. He'd just excuse himself to go to the bathroom once he woke up, but you obviously noticed how he'd be gone longer than usual.

To Sae, he didn't know what the hell was happening to him. Okay he knows about being horny and what not, he's an adult man afterall, and he had done some stuff with woman while in Spain, but this was a whole new feeling. Ever since you began dating he'd find himself drifted off while staring at your ass.

You walked by him to go get something from the kitchen? His eyes are following the way your hips swayed and shorts gave him a perfect view of where your thighs and ass curved.

You were laying on your stomach and just scrolling through your phone? He was ogling from his desk chair at how whenever you laughed, your body would shake slightly and in return make it jiggle.

God he felt like a pervert just staring at you. Sure he noticed when he first got back how much you changed— specifically how your body changed. Though even then he had the basic self restraint to keep his eyes trained on your face or some object in the room. Now he felt hopeless, and he would've also felt bad if he didn't notice you doing it to him as well.

He was stretching after finishing whatever online work he was given for the day, and a sliver of his shirt lifted up? Your eyes would dart to the exposed lower abdomen and stare until he would put his arms back down and his shirt would cover that delicious v line.

He was wearing gray sweatpants some brand sent him in hopes that he'd work as greet advertisement? Yeah, best believe your eyes kept glancing to his bulge.

It was like the two of you were playing some secret psychological game you didn't want the other to pick up. You'd both be settled on the couch watching a movie you insisted on, and then you'd purposefully walk into another room to grab another water before returning. Obviously, you also put on the shorter, comfortable cotton shorts that you knew rode up. When you'd return, you saw Sae fixing his pants nonchalantly while keeping his eyes on the TV.

Yet both of you were adamant on not bringing it up first. Sae was conscious about not wanting to push something onto you. You were hesitant because, even after knowing him almost all your life, you were now in uncharted territory when it came to finding out when's a good time to be sexual. It's not like you wanted to say 'Hey, we're good with having sex, right?' although you knew he'd rather that than having you beat around the bush.

You might as well get your hedge trimmers because you were not keen on initiating it yourself.

So, the two of you carried on like you weren't sexually frustrated. You'd go to his games despite his insistence on them not being ones to bother seeing.

"The other team is half baked. Don't waste your time on it," he'd mutter whilst packing his sports bag so he could head to the facility that was hosting his game.

"But Sae, you do realize how long it's been since I've seen you play an official match in person?"

"Even more of a reason to wait till I'm playing in Spain again," he commented, then paused for a second. Spain— right, his European league that he'd be returning to once whatever contract he signed in Japan was up. You've been deliberately avoiding that conversation, because what was there to even say? It's not like he expected you to pick up your life and move across seas to him. You definitely didn't expect him to just not go back to where he liked to play all because you two were in a relationship now. After a few more seconds, he spoke up, "I don't mind if you come— I like having you watch of course. It's just if you have something else, I'm not disappointed about you skipping out."

"I don't have something else."

"Well," he said with a sigh and looked over to you after zipping up the duffle bag, "seems like you've made your mind."

So yeah, you attended his match and proudly cheered whenever he got a hat trick.

After the match, which his team obviously won, the both of you returned to his house so he could promptly shower off. He always seemed to have something against the actual showers in the locker rooms.

You were laying back on his bed and leaned against his headboard when he finally walked in. Casually looking up, your eyes darted back down when you saw him walk in with sweatpants hugging lose around his hips, the top of his Calvin Klein boxers peaking out, and no shirt.

He didn't say anything as he strolled in and just walked over to lay on his bed beside you; chest down so you could see the expanse of his back. He just crossed his arms under his head and laid on them as his eyes shut.

"Tired?" you questioned whilst praying he wouldn't suddenly look at you and see how you're gaping at his back. You'd overheard girls ranking a guys back as one of the hottest things about them, but you hadn't truly seen the hype until you're faced with your boyfriends. His muscles ripple under his skin with the slightest movements as you even see how his biceps are tightened from the position he laid in.

"Mh.. a bit. You kept me up with your yammering last night," his voice muffled against the sheets as you recall how you did continue to talk well past midnight.

"Not like you're too shy to tell me when to shut up."

He opens his eyes from your words and you see him peer up at you through his lashes. He sighed, then pushed himself up to sit up on his bed properly.

"I suppose," he turns to sit beside you instead; his shoulder brushing against yours.

"Mhm, right.. you hot too or something?" you asked— reference to his lack of clothing. He just stares at you with his half lidded teal eyes for a moment, and you almost feel like you're crawling out of your skin. He was much closer now so it felt more intimate as his eyes switched from yours, to your lips, then back up.

"Guess so."

You just nodded and cleared your throat as you looked away. Could he maybe not act like he's staring through you? The room fills with silence for a moment as the both of you debate on how to proceed. Finally, he muttered, "Thought you'd be fine with it. You've seen me without it plenty of times," his words straight to the point without any deception. You had seen him numerous times without a shirt, so why did this feel so different?

"I didn't say I wasn't fine."

"No, but you look like it isn't."

"Maybe you can't read body language," but you just felt one of his hands coming up to your chin and turn your head back towards him.

"I'm not in the mood for this whole back and forth thing."

"So what are you in the mood for?"

His eyes trail back down to your lips while he's quiet; weighing his options before picking the one with the most maximizing gain. When his eyes snap back to yours and he leans in slightly, as if to say 'we doing this?', you just matched his expression.

Swiftly, he's planting his lips against yours and giving a soft kiss, but it's immediately replaced with a more hungry one. The kiss is slightly clumsy despite the two of you having done it plenty of times before; though it just makes you melt into it more. His hand that had been on your chin slides to instead tangle in your hair as his other one slides up your thigh before settling on your waist.

Courageously, you start to shift and he naturally breaks the kiss to see what you wanted. However you were quick to nervously instigate another one as you swing a leg over his hip and settle in his lap. You were just too nervous to see his facial features right now!

He just gave up with little to no resist as he lets himself be coaxed into another kiss that has him parting his lips so he could slip his tongue between yours. You aren't sure how long the kiss carried on for, but you do know at some point your hip experimentally rolled once into his own. As soon as your clothed crouch made contact with the tent forming in his pants, you heard the sharp intake of air through his nose.

Pulling back slowly, you looked into his eyes. "Is this.. fine?" you softly asked as your forced yourself to remain still. His hand that had been in your hair went down to join the other hand on your waist— both holding onto the fat of your hips on either side. His thumbs affectionately brushed over your skin and under the hem of your shirt.

"If this is what you want," he replied back and matched the same quietness in your tone. Promptly, you gave a too eager nod and was leaning back down to kiss him as your hips began to move once more.

His lips were hot and fast against yours as you started to grind your hips more neededly against his bulge after it caught your clit just right between all the fabric. You let out a pathetic moan which would've made you instantly blush and embarrassed, yet when you heard Sae's receptive, quieter groan? You realized he was enjoying this as much as you were.

Sae was hard when he was standing in the bathroom mirror trying to convince himself you wouldn't think he's weird to walk into the room shirtless— or you wouldn't see through his plan. Now, with you on top of him rolling your hips against his like he's imagined you in countless wet dreams, he was painfully throbbing. He discreetly started to tenderly thrust his hips upwards to let each roll you have meet his.

You broke the kiss with a quiet moan that was muffled by his skin as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. Meanwhile his eyes fluttered shut as his head leaned back against the headboard and his hands on your hips went down to grope your ass as you kept grinding.

"Fuck— yeah, like that. Don't stop," you could hear him whisper as your fingernails dug into his shoulders while you tried to think straight.

"Sae," you whined, "I-I want more," as if you weren't rubbing yourself all over him.

His hands kept fondling the fat of your ass while also helping move your body up and down his bulge; specifically making you press harder against where the head of dick was leaking. "More? You're already so pathetic like this, I don't know if you can handle more."

His words shot right to the sweltering, intense pressure building up in your lower body. You felt almost like your clit began to ache from the need to release, and you can only imagine Sae was feeling the same things. You pulled away from hiding in his neck and looked into his eyes desperately, "I-I can.." you whimpered in defense.

"... Then lay down so I can fuck—"

"Sae, mom wanted me to tell you—," you hear Rin's voice behind you at the doorway. Your hips, that had still been lightly moving against his groin, came to a halt instantaneously when you heard that door click open. You could've sworn he was still at practice.

You glanced back over your shoulder and just saw the poor younger man staring in the door frame with widened eyes. It wasn't hard to tell what the two of you were doing from how flushed each of your faces were, and the fact that you were straddling him. As sudden as he came in, he's slamming the door shut to no longer look at you two.

"Oh my god.. oh my god," you muttered as the heat you'd just been chasing diminished almost entirely at the realization that Rin, the other boy you knew since childhood, just saw you grinding on his brother. Your head snapped back to Sae, "You have to go apologize to him."

"Huh?" his eyes were already on you when you turned back around. His face looked entirely relaxed if it wasn't for the slight, practically unnoticeable lift of his eyebrows. You just roll off of him and sit beside him instead. "Apologize for what? I'm sure he doesn't want to see me right after this."

"Apologize for doing uh.. this while he's in the same house obviously!" you whisper snapped at him; as if you were scared Rin was outside the door listening, but you knew he probably hauled ass back into his room.

"I didn't know he was home?"

"Well I didn't either Sae, but that's not the point. I mean now we're going to have to explain that we're in a relationship and everything."

"...No we don't?" he said back while looking at you with furrowed eyebrows like you just suggested a horrifically stupid thing.

"He just saw me on you: he obviously knows now."

"And? Not like he's telling my parents and it'd be better if we just forgot about this. It's what he'd rather."

"How the hell do you know it's 'what he'd rather?' He could easily be upset we didn't tell him we're together."

Sae just rolled his eyes with a sigh— drama queen— and stared at the door his brother just intruded from.

"Fine, I'll mention something whenever I talk to him again."

Yeah, things got real awkward around the Itoshi household after that. When you walked out of Sae's room to grab a snack from the pantry and would see Rin in the kitchen, he'd glare before quickly turning around. You didn't necessarily blame him: no one wants to walk in on that kind of stuff. Therefore you just left him alone and didn't push to talk to him like you use to.

Sae on the other hand seemed like he couldn't care less as he carried on like normal. He knew his brother didn't want to talk to him about that— it's not like Rin is some kid nor is he an idiot. So yeah, the man just lied to you and said it was all fine for the sake of your peace of mind.

Weeks passed on and your 'secret' relationship wasn't revealed— all thanks to Sae's caution. He shielded you from the media and when asked questions about a lover, he was quick to have some smart ass reply to the reporter.

"So, Mr. Itoshi, I'm sure many fans listening at home would like to know if you.. maybe busy yourself with a lover? Any secret woman?" a red cheeked, snake eyed journalist would inquire while sitting across from Sae.

"No," he'd clip back: his media training had done wonders if one were to consider what he previously would've said.

"Really? Now I find that hard to believe. Why don't you at least tell the fans what woman you would go for?"

With no hesitation, the pink haired athlete retorted, "Maybe one that would mind her business."

Sae's managers cancelled a couple of interviews after that.

Nevertheless, things were going strong between the two of you despite not having another moment like the one you had when Rin interrupted. There were kisses that heated up to minimal gropes. Hickeys that you had to conceal with color corrector. Although you two still had desire, you were both at a standstill again on who'd act upon it.

Slowly but surely, the weight of that craving hung over you and you could practically feel yourself crumbling under it. Every time he'd lift his shirt to wipe sweat off his brow after he finished practicing so you two could go home. How his hands and arms looked from simple tasks like writing down his notes or pushing himself off the bed. Hell, how his voice sounded while humming to your long winded rants or calling your name when he needed your attention.

So, with all your neediness building up, Sae could clearly see it. He'd start talking and your eyes would be trained on his lips. Also, you weren't slick with staring at his arms whenever his muscles tensed and bulged from small movements. He'd be lying if he tried to say he wasn't feeling the same though. Whenever cuddling, he always had to choke down the strongest urge to press his hips against your ass. When you sleepily mumbled his name, he had to close his eyes and focus on all the times he fucked up in football so he wouldn't get hard. The only thing that held Sae back from acting on his desires was his paranoia about getting something wrong.

He wasn't too prideful that he wouldn't initiate something because he doubted he could make you cum— no, he knew he could. He knew he could be better than whatever the hell your good for nothing ex gave you. However, he was skeptical about not judging something correctly. He wanted it to be romantic: candles, rose petals, big sign on the bed— whatever you wanted. When it came down to it, he was anxious about fucking something up.

All that in mind, it was no surprise you were the first one to make a move. Like the last time, you two laid in bed together. Only difference being Rin was back to staying in Blue Lock's dorm facility, and Sae's parents were away on business or something. The ending scene of Taxi Driver played on the computer screen situated on top of his lap, but you had been hardly paying attention. Great movie, but you had seen it multiple times since it was one of Sae's favorites.

"Mh.. Sae," you mumbled without glancing away from the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You've been acting kinda weird lately," you said while jumping right into the topic. He looks over at your side profile partially illuminated by the computers glow.

" 'Weird?' " he repeats, " I don't know what you mean. I'm not trying to act any different."

"Well it just seems like you've been off ever since.. uh.. Rin walked in." Briefly looking over to see if he's taken the bait, but he's already staring straight at you. His face in its usual deadpanned, lazy position.

"You think?" he asked but from his catatonic tone, you just knew it was rhetorical. He knew your purpose of bringing up the memory of how you two were humping wildly days ago. He just shut the computer and set it on the bedside table.

"I mean it's just if you had something on your mind—"

"Do you?"

"Stop asking questions back," you reprimand.

"Then stop tiptoeing around your point and just say it."

"Well I don't think it's even worth it anymore," you muttered and glanced away; mostly feigning annoyance because you liked it when Sae fussed over you.

"Come on, don't be like that," he coaxed while his hand found its way to stroking from above your knee up to your thigh. Your head stayed tilted away until you heard him let out an exasperated sigh and lean over; gently kissing your cheek. Happily, you turned back to look at him.

"We've been taking things slower, which I like, but I wouldn't mind if tried more stuff," you confessed while placing a hand on his that had been stroking your thigh still, though stopped upon your intrusion.

"And.. you mean this, as in tonight?" his formal, composed manner almost made you want to crawl under the sheets and fall asleep quickly. Your head started to dip down to nod, but he quickly interjected, "No, not tonight."

"Oh," you freeze: did he have something planned? Were his parents returning earlier than what he'd previously said?

His next few words clashed against your hypothesis: "Everything isn't ready."

"That's alright. I thought you were ready since we almost did a few days ago."

"No, I don't mean I'm not ready— as in mentally or whatever. I just have things to get."

"...What like condoms? I'm on birth control to help control my period cramps if that's what you're nervous about."

"What? No not that. I don't want it to be a sudden thing; you should be in a welcoming environment."

Staring at him a bit longer, you were about to ask him what the hell he meant, but you were quickly clicked back into your senses. Oh, so he was trying to make this all cutesy and romantic. On one hand you were delighted your boyfriend, best friend, was trying to make this special and treat you. On the other hand, you've been sexually frustrated for the past several days and was moments away from humping his pillow.

It really felt like the angel and devil were on your shoulders.

"Sae your room is already welcoming enough."

"It should be special."

"If I'm with you then it's already special," you reasoned: a bit cheesy but you were trying to get your point across. He stared and blinked at you a few times like he was weighing his options.

"Is this.. one of those times you're saying something but mean the opposite? I'm really okay with waiting till everything's perfect."

"This isn't reverse psychology: I'm telling you it's fine."

"But last time you said something is 'just fine' you didn't end up ordering from the restaurant I—" his words cut off when you leaned over and placed a firm kiss against his lips. The two of you are in the same situation again: on his bed, making out, most of the city already asleep. Yet this time you two didn't have the lingering threat of someone walking in.

By the time the kiss ends you're both gasping for air while you feel his hand trailing up your thigh, for you'd removed your hand on it to instead cradle his jaw. His hand rubbed along the very upper inside of your thigh, but didn't touched where you needed him most.

"This okay?" he mumbled quietly as his eyes stared into yours. His lips were still so close that you felt them ghost over your own.

"Mhm," humming and glancing down to his hand, but he doesn't look away from your eyes.

"Yeah? It's fine?" he reconfirmed while his hand stilled.

"Yes— please Sae."

His hand on the inside of your thigh manages to slide under the leg of your pajama shorts and rub along your clothed pussy. He situated himself more onto his side while he leaned in to start peppering wet kisses down the column of your throat. One of your hands tangles into his hair while the other reaches to brush against his clothed cock.

His hips jumped when your hand rubbed at the outline and he gave a quieter, appreciative groan when your fingers glided across the imprint of the head. Sae wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was always a bit selfish when it came to sex. He didn't have a ton of practice, but he certainly wasn't inexperienced. Sure he'd get the girl off so she'd finish, but a lot of his actions were because it also felt good for him. However, with you, he found himself doubling down his efforts to get you heated while ignoring how nice it'd feel to have you slobbering over his dick.

"Feel good?" he murmurs against your collarbone between kisses. His fingers pressed into your panties more so he could feel the clear puffy outline; rubbing circles where he guessed your clit would be. "Lift your hips and let me take off these dumb shorts."

You scoffed at him calling the cute fuzzy shorts dumb, but did follow his instructions as his hand left your aching core and instead grabbed along the waistband to drag the panties and pajamas down. Sae situated himself to sit up more on your side and fold his legs under him while looking.

"You need to take off your shorts too then," you mumbled as your fingers looped under the waistband of his shorts and boxers for encouragement. Sae's hand wrapped around your wrist easily while his other gently pushed your knees away from eachother, for you had closed your legs upon instinct. He didn't say anything back as he was preoccupied with looking directly at the mess already dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck," he whispered as if pained.

Noticing his diverted attention, you squirmed under his gaze while whining, "Oh jeez, stop just staring. I'm being serious— at least let your titties out."

Now that wording snapped him out of it: " 'Titties?' Don't word it like that," although he got the memo and slipped his shirt off. He doesn't bother addressing how your hand was clawing at his boxers though. He just drops a hand back between your thighs and runs the fingertips up to gather your wetness before finally making actual contact with your sensitive nub.

Your eyes bounced between Sae's face that wasn't tearing away from watching how you glistened on his fingers, to looking at where his hand massaged you. Your chest was rising and falling quicker, but in this moment you were having a thought that sometimes crossed your mind: you wished he was more expressive. Your boyfriend, and long time best friend, was the type of person that you didn't know if they were enjoying something based off of how they looked.

On top of that, you also didn't know what his sex life was like when he was in Spain for years before he returned. You could guess it was practically nonexistence, but he also certainly didn't kiss like an amateur. You had experience with your boyfriend but it wasn't like you ever came because of him— that loser couldn't even get you half as needy as you felt now.

Sae, promptly noticing your unusual silence, looked over to see you already staring. His fingers paused their circles when he noticed your nervous demeanor and how your eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong? Do you want to stop?" his fingers drifted away from you hesitantly while taking refuge on your thigh.

"Huh? No— no, I just.. uh.." you glanced away. Why on Earth were you suddenly so nervous! You'd been the one instigating this and started the kiss, so why did you feel your cheeks heat up and fight the need to avoid his gaze.

He called your name, bringing you out of your thoughts before repeating, "What's wrong?" concern laced in his apathetic voice, "I'll just stop." Then, he's removing his hand completely and moving to not lean over you; instead, sitting beside you once more.

"I don't want to stop— I.. I don't know: everything just hit me all at once I guess."

His eyes didn't look away from yours while you closed your legs but made no movement to retrieve your clothes. Staring in front of you, you just knew he was studying your expression.

"What did? That we were going to actually have sex, and you got nervous? It's fine if you want time—"

"No, I don't want time," you interrupt.

He's quiet for a beat more: waiting to see if you'd continue. Although when you didn't say anything else, he pressed: "Well I'm going to need you to explain a bit more then. You want to continue but you seem anxious, so I'm not doing anything till we figure it out."

He didn't ask you to look at him nor did he bring a hand up to tilt your head towards him. He didn't acknowledge that you were still half naked in his bed. All he did was wait for you to find the words.

"I didn't mean to freak you out by pausing. It just feels so different than with—" you stopped yourself quickly when you realized you were about to bring up your ex. God, how stupid would that be? Literally bringing up how you and your ex boyfriend had sex to Sae Itoshi: your boyfriend.

"It feels different for me too," he replied. Although you didn't finish your sentence, he knew what you were talking about. "I think it probably does feel different when you do this with people you love though."

Finally looking over at him, you could see how relaxed he presented himself. He was idly leaning against a few pillows that laid against the headboard of his bed. You couldn't see any visible tension in his facial features, nor did he sound the slightest bit displeased with talking about past sexual relationships.

It was silent for a moment before you warily asked, "So.. you have done stuff with other girls?"

It's not that you'd be upset or anything— far from it. The both of you just never discussed things like that, and he specifically never mentioned any flings.

He nodded: "Yes I have. I'm not a virgin or anything, but I wasn't in an actual relationship with any of the women."

"So plural?"

"Two women. Both were back when I was in Spain."

At his confession, you nearly wanted to laugh. The way he previously worded it, it sounded like he was talking about some playboy. Apparently, your smile must've given away your thoughts as he himself smirked back.

"What's so funny? You thought no women liked me overseas?"

"No no! It's just," you stopped while trying to force yourself to not giggle; letting out a harsher breath of air, "The way you worded it. It made you sound like you had all sorts of women."

"Oh, no. Definitely not," he replied sincerely as his smirk dropped like he was disturbed by the idea. At that point, you couldn't hold back laughing. Sae felt whatever tense feeling he didn't even realized developed slowly unknot as he heard your laughs. "Alright, it's not that funny," he mumbled as if you couldn't see the smile working its way onto his face again.

"Sorry! I just feel so much better now," you replied and all Sae wanted to tell you was that if this had been weighing on your mind so much, you should've just asked him. Though he kept his lips sealed. Eventually you resumed, "I do uh.. want to continue though."

"Are you sure? I really don't mind waiting. You know I wouldn't lie to you."

"No— I mean if you're ready then I'm ready."

The pink haired man nodded but didn't move for a moment. His hand shortly did find itself moving back to you, but this time it sprawled over your stomach. He leans in and you caught on and just did the same as your lips met in a softer, embracing kiss.

You felt his hand on your stomach trail down, over your navel, then dip back into your wetness and allow his fingers to be coated. Your legs spread once more as you felt his hand nudge between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut harder when you felt him insert a finger— his thumb rolling circles over your clit. Feeling his finger start to pump inside you, then another one shortly being added, you break the kiss as you gasp and lean your head back on the pillow. Eyes fluttering shut, you breathed out his name while your hips subtly grind upwards to his hand.

"Baby, keep your eyes open," his softer voice rang out as his fingers made a 'come hither' motion that had you choking back a moan. The pet name he used, something he almost never does, catches you off guard and just send another wave a heat gushing to where he was pumping his fingers in and out of.

Your eyes opened and immediately you see him already looking at you. Seeing how all his attention was focused on you, you had to force yourself to not close your eyes again.

"I-I want to be closer," you whined quietly. Instantly, Sae was already moving his free hand, which had been groping your tit over your shirt, to instead lay his arm behind your head. You lifted your head so his upper arm could fit under it as he scooted closer; not removing his fingers, though they did slow as his attention was broken.

"Is that better?" he asked while you laid entirely on your back and he was on his side molded against you. The shuttering breath you let out told him everything as his fingers quickened back to their previous speed.

Feeling him now pressed against you, his throbbing cock visible from the outlines of his sweatpants was even more noticeable. You moved your arm to reach for it as your hand tugged on the clothes.

"Can I...?" you whispered while looking up into his teal eyes. Almost instantaneously, he's nodding.

"Please."

With that, you pull down his sweatpants and boxers just enough to reveal his aching cock. Delicately, your hand wraps around the base after running it over the head to gather any precum for lubricant.

His thumb switched to massaging figure 8's against your clit while he stared at how your hand began pumping his cock as you bit your lip— trying to concentrate despite the way your thighs twitched and quiver whenever his fingers pressed against your G spot.

"Just like that— fuck," he groans as he in return thrusted his fingers up into your pussy faster so they could prod against your walls. You let out a moan that has him reeling and forcing himself to not push his hips into your hand. You clearly had no problem in doing that though as your hips trembled from thrusting them up to meet his strokes.

The entire time, he's maintaining eye contact as he looks at how your hair is sprawled beautifully on the pillow and your mouth hangs open in awe. His face was just as flushed as yours.

"Sae— Sae I-"

"Shh I know, I know. Let me guide you," he manages out because he already knew exactly what you'd say judging by how tightly you began to clamp down on him. He kept thumbing at your sensitive clit while you whimpered and managed to keep fervently jerking his dick as it twitched and jumped in your palm.

Your entire body shudders while you smash your lips into his while he works you through your orgasm and coaxes you into slight overstimulation. Without even realizing, your hand left his swollen cock to instead grab at his forearm when he didn't stop plunging his fingers in.

You're quickly pulling out of the kiss as a string of whiny curses leave your mouth as your shaky hand pulls his off of you.

"Fuck fuck fuck— Sae, s'to much!" you feebly moaned as he couldn't help the smile on his face when he looked at you; already having a sweat bead on your temple.

"Okay okay, I'm done," he said while peppering kisses to your cheek. He truly got the biggest ego from making you come undone on his fingers within several minutes.

Your body just went limp against the mattress as your hand fell away from holding his forearm still and plopped onto your stomach. Though, when you recognized the heavy heat against your hip, you quickly realized you just blue balled the man.

"Oh shit, sorry. I didn't even notice— let me," your hand is darting to just pick up where you left off, but Sae's much larger hand is wrapped around your wrist in an instant. He's staring at you but didn't say anything for a second, for he was too preoccupied with licking your sweet juices off his ring and middle fingers.

You watched his fingers dip into his mouth as he sucked on them, then pulled them out to lick on them. He paused as if considering something while you stared at him dumbfounded, but then he made a decision and brought his fingers up to your lips. Instantly, you got his idea and eagerly opened your mouth and sucked on the digits. His fingers pressed onto the back of your tongue, but you just closed your eyes and welcomed it. Your tongue swirling around his fingers as they seeped into the warm space. Your boyfriend was accidentally holding his breath while watching you deepthroat his fingers before he eventually pulled them out when he decided you probably got them clean enough.

"You.. don't need to finish doing that," he said in reference to how he stopped you from continuing the hand job. "Is it okay if I—"

"Sae just do it," you swiftly retorted, and after hearing your words he's sliding down his boxers and sweatpants completely and moving to sit up again.

"Do you mind what position?" Sae asked casually, but on the inside his mind is moving a mile per minute. Not only is he trying to not completely lose his brain from how he was so horny and hot he felt like some animal, but he was focused on making you feel as good as possible.

"I want to be able to see you," and Sae was already moving his body between your spread thighs. Before he even grabs his dick to run it over your slit, he's pausing and then quickly grabbing a pillow.

"Lift your hips, pretty," then he's sliding the pillow underneath your ass so he has a better angle. His hands also trail up to bunch your shirt over your tits as he leans down to trail a few kisses over them. He gently swirls his tongue around one of your nipples while his hand pinched your other as you whimpered and squirmed.

"Sae!" you whined while dragging out the 'e' in his name till he pulled away from your breast. His hand grabbed the base of his cock and slowly dragged the head up and down your pussy to gather the slick.

"I'm getting there. You just look so gorgeous," he mumbles and you could literally feel your hole flutter at his praise. He starts to softly push the head through your first ring of muscles as you gasp, but then he freezes: "Shit, a condom. Here wait just a sec—"

"No it's okay. I'm on the pill," you insisted while a hand shot out to grip his. The thought of him having to get up and walk to his bathroom, where you accidentally found his box of condoms after simply trying to get a tampon one time, was miserable.

"Are you sure?" he insisted as he gazed down into your eyes. He moved your hand slightly so he could interlock fingers and just hold your hand.

"Yeah, it's okay. Just.. pull out."

He gave a nod in confirmation before he settled back and languishingly dragged his hips in slightly so his cock could shallowly grind against you. He didn't want to thrust in completely: instead giving you time to warm up.

"Shit," he whispered to himself once he bottomed out. You could see the way his abs flexed every time you accidentally tightened around him as his jaw went slack before he'd notice and compose himself once more.

"Start m-moving," you mumbled while he started to give you fuller thrust that gradually morphed into deeper ones. Once he finds his rhythm, your hand is gripping at his sheets while you moaned each time he bottomed out and his slightly curved tip brushed against your G spot.

Sae, on the other hand, is letting out heavy breaths while watching how your face lewdly contorts each time he pumped you full of himself. The hand that wasn't getting gripped to death by yours reached down to your leg and hooked under your knee: throwing it over his shoulder as he leaned his body downwards so his chest almost touched yours.

"You feel so good," he rasped as he bullied into your sloppy, aching hole. His hand retreated from holding your thigh up and instead let you do that while his crawled downwards to rub at your neglected clit.

"S-slower, s'to quick!" you babbled while he tucked his head into the crook of his neck and pistoned his hips into the mess between your legs. Your hand left tearing at the sheets and instead clawed at his back; leaving red lines down the span of it.

"You can take it," he cooed as his fingers worked at your clit. He felt your nails drag down his back which had his mind reeling from the slight sting, but also let him know how good he was giving it to you.

"I'll cum t-though! Sae- Sae I'm gonna cum t-too quick," you mindlessly jabber.

"Then give it to me."

Once he bottoms out inside you again, your body is tensing up as he feels you grip onto his cock tighter and causes him to lurch over you. He manages to keep thrusting as you cum and his thumb sweetens your release as it stimulates your clit.

As he feels your orgasm subside while he gently grinds his hips against yours, he's letting go of your hand and readjusting a bit. One arm finds its way under your waist and easily lifts your lower body to slide it closer to the edge of the pillow. His other hand slides under your head to cradle you close as he kisses a cheek softly before he just begins to pound into you again.

The harsh contrast between his attentive actions vs how roughly he's drilling into you sets your mind spinning as a hand threads between his pink locks and the other digs your fingernails into his shoulder blade.

"You like that huh?" he cockily grunts into your ear while you moan, half incoherent: "Who's fucking you this good baby?"

"Y-you! You are!" you garble as you feel the world spinning as overstimulation sets in and your eyes roll back. The only other sounds in the room being his thighs slapping against yours and the squelching noise of him nailing his dick into you.

His thrust start to get sloppy as you hear his breath hitch and grip around you tighten as your chest brushes against his in the hug. He holds you close, moans spilling out of his lips softly before he abruptly pulls away: pulling out of your dripping pussy and letting ropes of white, pearly cum decorate your stomach. Small trickles of cum still escaping that trickle down his shaft deliciously.

His body is visibly trembling too as shaky breaths leave his lips while he looks at the mess he made. Your body laid out beautifully in front of him with cum dripping before your fingers dipped down and swiped against your skin: collecting a wad on your finger and bringing it to your lips. He watches with his jaw dropped in a small 'O' before his swallows his spit and collapses at your side.

His hand cards into your locks as he pulls you down for another kiss despite your lips still being smeared with his seed. As an athlete, he had the endurance to go another few rounds. Though when he looked at you and felt the quiver in your body, he knew not to push you too far.

"You were so perfect," he lovingly whispered after he pulled away from the kiss. He just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while his eyes trace over your features and notices the fatigue. "Are you okay?"

"M-mhm.. just.. hold me for a bit," you request as he pulls you closer into him.

"Do you want me to start a shower?" he then asks because he knows he got you all sticky. You sleepily shake your head no while tucking yourself into his chest.

"No I just wanna lay.. we can bother with that in the morning... I love you," you murmured as you felt one of his hands stroking at your back.

"I love you too."

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𑣲║ To Be an Artist's Muse

¡Artist Shidou! x ¡Muse Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: none!

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Most people would agree being a college student who's primarily financially independent is no easy feat. You did various work studies at your university and even are a student TA; however, you were fairly sure your professor agreed to it in pity and not because they needed much help grading freshman's essays.

So it was safe to say you practically jumped at any opportunity that involved you getting paid. This phenomenon typically leading you to the expansive bulletin board that hung right as you stepped into the library: holding a plethora of flyer sheets.

There were papers for volunteer work with environmental projects on campus, people to call if you needed a tutor on subjects like organic chemistry or calculus II, and the occasional AA flyer meeting that was held at a local church every Wednesday. All of which didn't interest you as your eyes rapidly scanned every sheet for the magical statement: "Pays by the Hour"

When your eyes finally lock onto the newest gig being offered, you step closer to quickly skim over the terms and conditions. You just note a few sentences: models needed for students' end of term project, contact professor to set up an appointment with student available, average pay is $20 an hour. Truly, your eyes fixated on that last part as you quickly ripped off one of the tassels that hung onto the end of the paper and had the professors contact information, email, written down.

You just returned back to your independent dorm room since you were a RA— yet another job you weaseled yourself into— and promptly sent a professional email inquiring about the job and if there was still availability.

I mean, it truly seemed like one of the best jobs you've had the chance to jump at since you've gotten to college. Just pose in front of some art student for a hour or two and get paid nearly half of $100? Sign you up.

Well, at least that was the enthusiasm you carried as you happily awaited the professors response and carried along with your day. It wasn't until later that afternoon that you sat down with a 'friend' in a picnic table within the large courtyard that you began to have doubts. Your first mistake might've been trying to discuss this with a girl whom you didn't even like much, but shared a required political science class with.

"Be a model? Couldn't pay me enough for that," she commented while watching a group of students kick a hackey sack from across the lawn.

"Huh? Why not? I'll just stand still for a while and make money— shoot I've done 10x more grueling labor than that."

"Because, think about it: a chic or some guy is just going to study every part of your body for hours and notice whatever flaw you've got. Then, they're going to draw those fucked up details and submit it for their final," she replied in that pessimistic tone, "not to mention the art could be chosen to be displayed. I don't want my tits hanging in the fine arts department."

"Um, well I thought it was pretty nice. Besides, who says it even has to be a nude—"

"The art students final is literally anatomy and raw human condition. You're going to have everything hanging out."

You stare at her as she delivers the news— did you skip over that in the flyer? Surely you would've noticed you had to be buck naked if the flyer had that on it.

"Well.. still, I don't think they're judging—"

"No they definitely are."

"You don't know—"

"They are."

You didn't even remember what the rest of the conversation was because she was getting on your nerves, but her words served to loom in the back of your mind.

After returning back to the dorms, you swiftly opened your laptop to see if it was too late to unsend that email to the general studio arts teacher. Unfortunately, you were just met with the professors response and clear gratitude that you agreed to 'help his students propel themselves into an otherworldly experience by captivating the vulnerability of humanity.' His words, not yours. Nevertheless, you were already a foot into your grave so you sent a confirmation email and shortly received the day and time you were expected to meet the student in a private studio room.

Towards the end of the email, the professor added that the student you will be working with is named 'Ryusei Shidou,' and he's sure he'll be a pleasure to work with.

Eyes scanning over the name again and again, you tried to remember exactly where you had heard that name. You could somewhat remember seeing it engraved on a golden portrait framing a painting that was exhibited for exceptional students in the library, but you couldn't even remember what the painting precisely was. For some reason, the idea of it depicting impressionism of what you could guess was early summer in Japan appeared in your mind. Though, you felt as if that is not the only place you had heard of him.

Never mind that conundrum, you just anxiously waited as the 2 days passed until you'd have to see him. The whole time you were trying to convince yourself what your friend said isn't reality and is just her insecurity talking.

Walking into studio 99, a little late because you originally fucked up and thought the professor said 111, you saw the back of the man whom you instantly recognized. He seemed preoccupied with arranging an array of pencils onto the side table residing next to a plain wooden chair. He hadn't noticed you at first, but after seeing movement in the corner of his eye he quickly looked over.

You watched as the man's straight face contorted into a smile and he swiftly stood up from the seat he had been in. Your eyes just stay fixated on him as he began to walk; specifically, focusing on the familiar pink tip hair and tanned skin. Finally, you recognized his name because you always saw him around campus and heard it being called.

Go to study in the library? He was already in an occupied study room laughing with an assortment of friends. Trying to enter the student cafeteria? He was one of the only ones actually eating the yukhoe, or he'd get a snack of nori rice. Literally trying to walk across the court yard? He'd be one of the guys kicking the hackey sack between the group. Therefore, you seeing him constantly wasn't that great when you consider that in maybe 10 minutes, you'd be entirely naked.

"Hello!" he chirped while hastily covering the shortening length of ground between you two, "you're the model, correct?"

"Oh yes— and you're Shidou?" he was just holding his hand to which you speedily took to do a proper handshake. You could feel the callouses gently scrapping against your softer palm— probably all from holding pencils and paint brushes for extended periods of time.

"Yep, I think I've seen you around?" he questions but you can't even think back an answer as you stared. Although he clearly didn't care much, for he's already turning to walk back to the chair. "Well anyways, if you're comfortable with it then I'd like to get started right away. You can change in that room," he points to what looks to be a spare closet, "I already hung up a robe that you can use."

He doesn't bother checking to see if you're actually walking towards where he pointed. Seemingly busying himself with checking the grades on the pencils he'd collected, his eyes remained downcast as you mumbled, "Oh, okay thanks," and diverted towards the room.

Your assumption was correct because the 'room' was maybe several square feet wide and there was just a door hook holding a plain white robe. Shimming out of your clothes, you neatly folded them and placed them to the side— trying to prolong this— then slid the robe on and walked back out.

Once the door opened again, Shidou looked over and then stood up once more and approached the small moveable platform in the middle of the room. His mind mentally replaying his professors words on how to act with models: don't comment on their body, don't take pictures, and don't purposefully stare at anything too long.

"So, I was thinking you'd maybe want to start off with gesture poses?" he suggested whilst slightly kicking the flat, wooden stand.

"Okay, sure— and... what are gesture poses?"

He was quiet before looking over with a smile that was clearly supposed to be calming, though nothing would really ease your nerves at this point. He stopped kicking the wooden box once he got it where he wanted: "Have you not modeled before?"

"No, not like this at least."

"Well I'm fine with a virgin," he said unbothered despite how the metaphor made you tense. "A gesture pose just means you'll hold short poses to help me sketch any quick muscular lines or get an understanding on your proportions. It'll just be foreplay for the both of us."

Despite his sexual wording, it truly just seemed to be naturally slipping off his tongue and he paid no mind to it. Thus letting you know he didn't mean anything behind it— hell, maybe he was trying to be funny to calm you down.

"Sure, that sounds fine."

He gave a fast nod and retreated back to his seat and picked up his sketch book and pencil. Meanwhile you approached the platform, robe still on, and stepped onto it hesitantly. He looked up: "Alright, you can take the robe off whenever you feel ready. No rush."

He stared at you for a moment longer as you stared back, but then he got the memo and glanced towards a random wall of the room as to give you 'privacy.'

A few seconds pass as you compose yourself, then you're slipping the smooth white robe off your body and tossing it away.

"So, how should I pose?" your face is just looking away from him, but out of the corner of your eye you'd already seen him turn his head back right when the robe slipped off.

"Since this is your first time, we can do more simpler ones. Just-.. just lift an arm upwards and the other casted behind you— like a ballerina I suppose."

Following his instructions you extend an arm above your heard and outwards so it wasn't entirely rigid, then your other drifted behind you slightly. Desperately, you tried to ignore the awkward exposure.

"Like this?"

"Sure. We'll just stay like this for a few minutes," his pencil already scrapping against his sketch sheet as he spoke, "hold the pose until I say, but if you need a break before then it's okay."

A silence filled the air as you didn't reply while he drew whatever it was he was doing. You started to become uncomfortably aware with how your hair felt against you skin or the inconvenient way you'd initially crooked your wrist slightly to the left.

On the other side of the room, Shidou was working quickly to render the lines of your arms while accounting for the delicate curves of your body. His eyes never lingered on one spot too long— entirely methodical as he mapped out your body like an explorer. Minutes passed and Shidou found himself uniquely immersed with his sketch as details compiled. Upon seeing how your arm that has been practically suspended in the air for 5 minute began to tremble, he decided that was long enough.

"Okay that's great! You hold your balance beautifully so I could really capture the tension in your arms from this angle," he professionally complimented as his eyes stayed trained on your face. You allowed your arms to fall back to your sides as you subtly shifted to get the blood flowing again.

"Good good," trying to meet his enthusiastic tone, "will we do another pose like that?"

You were asking to gauge how much these 'warm ups' would last, but also so you could prepare yourself if he were to want you to hold another pose.

"Hm.." eyes drifting towards the clock, "how much time were you booked for again?"

"An hour and thirty minutes," your eyes just followed his to see only 25 minutes had passed since you first stepped into the studio— including the 5 minutes you wasted from being late.

"In that case I'd rather we'd move on to a seated pose," he retorted. He began to stand up while holding his sketch book to his chest with one hand and pencils with the other. Briefly looking back towards you, he continued: "You can put the robe back on if you'd like. I was thinking maybe, for the seated and stretched pose, we could just kill two birds with one stone."

His hand curled around the lip of the chair and dragged it to by the loveseat or couch in the corner of the room. Sporadically placed throughout the studio was various arm chairs, different desks, a plinth, and finally a couch that looked cheap. All of which were clearly utilized in situations like what you found yourself in.

"For a more simpler pose, at least for you, you could stretch across the couch whilst just laying? If you're comfortable with that, of course," he added politely at the end but it seemed like he already made the decision when he sat back down in the chair.

You didn't bother putting the robe back on, but you did bend down and carry it to somewhat shield you until you got to the furniture.

"Yeah, uh, that's fine," came tumbling out of your mouth as you hesitantly sat down.

"Fantastic. Can you just lay out casually? Maybe like Hippolyte Berteaux's painting?"

"What painting?" you asked, then realized you should've just stay quiet instead of making his comparison awkward.

"You know, like.. Sleeping Ariadne?"

"...Mhm!" you hummed. Though from the way he looked into your eyes, you were well aware he could see right through you.

"Basically just relax as best you can so this can be more portraiture," he finally settled on while his sketch book laid idly in his lap.

"Right," confirming his request and just steadily lowering yourself down onto the couch so your head was near the arm of it. Following his 'natural' approach, you folded an arm under your head for comfortability while your other hand was stationary on the fabric by your chest.

Laying on your side, you let the leg not pressed into the cushions bend as to conceal your groin area more and because it provided further tranquillity to have it hiked up as opposed to straight legged. Your face was tilted upwards delicately as your gaze stayed entranced on the table in the far half of the room.

From the new angle Shidou could visibly see how your hip popped upwards more to create a more stark hip to waist ratio; a mountain compared to a hill. Tracing his eyes down your side as his hand freely drew the scene laid out before him.

He noted how your hair fell downwards as gravity took ahold. He saw the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you gradually relaxed under his gaze. He noticed the subtle shifts you yourself weren't aware of, but he didn't bring it to your attention because he recognized it would make you overly self conscious about every small, natural movement.

Overall, he focused on utilizing the entire page to fill it with organic lines that captured your essence in a singular stroke. No part of your body was overly emphasized to where it was obvious he'd stared at one section longer than any of the others. Shidou recalled when his class would collectively participate in sketching a nude model and then critique and compliment each others work. More often than not, he found that his peers included a ludicrous amount of detail revolving breast or other genitalia, so it was clear where their 'cornerstone' for attention laid. However, Shidou found that when using models for his work, he never believed adding glandular distractions were beneficial. Artistically, he found nothing inherently sexual about nudism and the beauty of life it could represent.

Your head remained lolled to the side and after maybe 20 minutes you'd finally just closed your eyes.

Upon seeing the 'new' facial contortion, Shidou was quick to erase where he'd originally drawn your eyes staring off into the distance and instead rebuilt it to depict the unavoidably fatigued expression. After a few more deliberate strokes against the paper with his pencil, he spoke up.

"We can take a break now," Shidou announced while setting his sketch book to the side and sighing; bringing his free hands up to drag over his face and erase the eye strain from fixating on the same points for so long.

You slowly brought yourself up from the position and this time did lean down to grab the robe and drape it around you properly. Not liking the quietness, you spoke up: "Is the drawing alright?"

"Definitely. You're doing superb," and his hands fell away from wiping his eyes to look at you. Whenever you typically saw Shidou in the 'wild,' he always seemed to be talking to others loudly or laughing too hard at a joke. Was he being quieter because of the situation, or was he always like this when it's just one on one?

"Thanks. So.. uh.. What's the prompt for your final?"

"There's options to it. The overarching topic does have to do with anatomy, but someone can use skeletal integration, biomorphic metamorphosis, or just a realism style portrait."

"Which will you choose?"

He paused, mulling over options as he glanced away before looking back towards you: "I'm still deciding. I'd.. like to incorporate something about the human existence, but I'm figuring out just how."

Nodding and trying to follow what thought process he may be aiming for, you inquired a bit more: "Human existence as in... every day life? Simple pictures of people going to a grocery store or missing a train?"

"Ehh, well yes that could be it. Though, I'd like to dive more into human nature— if I'm making any sense. Every human exists to leave behind a record of their presence here. It's an act that carves proof of your existence into the world. I'd like to depict some of those actions in my project."

Every word sounded so precise and preplanned that you knew he's being considering his options thoroughly for some time. Eyes matching his, you couldn't help but notice the vacant and subdued personality he displayed earlier was fading as he talked more animatedly about his art. It wasn't the same look as to when someone would tell a joke that had him toppling over as laughter rolled from his mouth in boisterous waves.

You were at a loss for words for a moment whilst trying to contemplate what to even say from his reasoning. "I.. see," you eventually managed out, "so this is just practice for your final sketch? Like you'll work with other models as well, then decide on your plan?"

Humming in thought, his eyes downcast towards the book lying in his lap where the croquis of you laid. Attentively, his hand flipped between the two pages of the recent sketch and the gestural drawing. Ultimately his fingers stilled while staring at his portrayal of you spanned across the loveseat, and a smile pulled at the edges of his lips.

"No, no I don't think so. I'm really liking these pieces," he mumbled before his eyes cut to you, "you wouldn't mind being my muse, right?

Unbeknownst to you, your cheeks changed to the fairest pink as they warmed from his simple question. Despite him having just viewed you completely nude, vulnerable, for well over 40 minutes all together: this seemed like the most intimate moment. Maybe it was how he physically viewed you entirely yet never forced you to become uneasy besides your typical nerves. Or how utterly open he was even when the two of you met just over half a hour ago. Whatever it was, you were drawn to it and wanted to discover the hidden layers.

"As long as you don't do me dirty," you joked back to which his smile widened and the previous tension, or whatever anxiety you felt, dissipated as you talked.

The two of you mentioned few things during the break he gave, but plenty of it was a comfortable silence that was only interrupted once Shidou announced, "Well, we should finish this up before it gets too late."

With that, you returned to situating yourself on the loveseat to the best of your abilities: arm tucked under head, hand laying close to chest, and leg bent at an angle. Once you finished moving around a bit, you asked: "Would you rather I close my eyes or keep them open?"

To which he expeditiously replied, "It'd be better if you closed them."

Your eyes fluttered shut as you rested. No longer did a burning sensation cover your skin when you imagined his eyes focusing on your stomach or chest. The gnawing feeling in your gut departed. You laid motionlessly for another half hour as he honed into retracing any scratchy lines and captivating your expression more now.

Once the two of you finished he said you could open your eyes and the session was done. Slipping the robe back on for the several seconds it took for you to cross the room to the closet, you quickly entered and put your clothes back on whilst placing the robe back on the hook.

When you reemerged from the closet you could see him packing up his sketchbook, pencils, and erasers into a shockingly pink backpack that matched his hair.

"Hey, I've been thinking," he interrupted your thoughts as you looked up at him and saw he was already looking at you, "and I think I will use these sketches to help with my final. Is that chill with you?"

Softly smiling you just nodded rather quickly: "Yeah, I'm cool with that." Afterall, being someone's 'muse' did sound neat; being the main source their inspiration comes from and all although you didn't understand why he cared so much for you in particular.

" 'Kay great! I can also cite that you were the model or would you rather anonymity?"

"Oh uh.." you're more hesitant this time. Whatever Shidou was doing, he'd most certainly being using your muse most as the subject of the piece. The man already had his art hung up in the library once, what if it happened again. The nervous twinge reentering your tone: "Sorry, maybe just.. not my name?

"Got it— you'll just be the mysterious woman. I was wondering if.. maybe we could swap contact info?" he then asked and prayed you wouldn't take it the wrong way, "I just enjoyed working with you, so if you wanted any more gigs I could offer them instead of having to talk with Professor Jinpachi."

So yeah, you did give him your number and he handed you cash before you left to return back to your dorm. Though you didn't hear from him for the next two weeks as you continued with your daily life. You began to think he might've realized he couldn't work the way he wanted with your piece, and you wouldn't have been upset.

At least that's the idea you'd been contemplating until you got a text message from an unsaved number, but you could guess who it was.

"Hey, just wanted tlyk the painting I did of you is included in the art exhibition. (It's towards the front of the library) Your name is strictly confidential like you ordered ✌︎('ω')✌︎"

You read over the sentence a few times while comprehending his art of you is hanging for all of the alumni to see. Additionally, you look at the small emoji he used and how cute it was. Obviously, you hightailed it to the library under the guise of 'I needed to study anyways, so I'll take a quick peak then reserve a room.'

Once you stepped into the library and kept your eyes glued to the entry wall showcasing various paintings all depicting someone in some way. Few used the human body to fade into mountains or veins into rivers, and you also saw just skeletons that reminded you of Van Gogh's.

The one that immediately caught your eye after processing it was the largest painting that covered a large area of the wall. In the middle, which probably drew most in, was a nude woman stretched across a loveseat as her eyes seemed closed in thought. Around the woman was a plethora of items that a person wouldn't catch the first time looking, but as you stared longer you noticed more. There were books strewn around the room as if they circled the woman like vultures. A standing globe resided behind the furniture, but it was partially obscured by the other random objects. A clock on the wall was visible, but read no time. Dolls and other childish toys littered the floor like a toddler had just been in the room playing.

Stepping closer, your eyes fixated on small things you at first believed to be scuffs in the paint. Though you quickly realized it was butterflies he added that were frozen inside the room. Overall, it was a wide clash of objects inhabiting the room while you just laid in the middle of it.

As your eyes focused back on your body that covered maybe 70% of the painting, you noticed how the entire color scheme was based around you. Your skin tone, hair color, the hue of your lips and cheeks, and even your eye color despite that being a secret detail only you and him would realize, for your eyes weren't even painted open.

When another group of students walked into the library and also stopped to admire the new art, you swiftly turned away and retreated back to the various study rooms the library offered. As you got inside and placed your stuff down, you quickly opened your phone to text something back.

"Just saw the piece and it looks amazing!!! Thank you so much for letting me be apart of it :)"

Then set your phone back down on the table while grabbing your laptop out of the bag so you could begin. Another ding just rang out in the room so you scrambled to turn your phone on silent, but to also see what the notification was.

"Glad you liked it! If you don't mind, over the summer I'll be doing a program and was wondering if you'd be interested in modeling for that too? It can be one on one like last time. No worry if you're going back home or something :p"

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𑣲║ ¡Loud Bf Shidou! x ¡Quiet & Shy Gf Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: kissing/making out, suggestive language, implied sexual behavior

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¡Loud Bf Shidou! who has absolutely no consideration for time and place. He also didn't really care about the idea of embarrassing himself.

"Baby, embarrassment is a social construct," he'd always tell you before proceeding to do something that would've put you into a coma.

You truly didn't understand how the man didn't have any issue with walking up to a stranger and striking up a conversation. He was the type of guy to randomly intercept into others conversations and not try to hide the fact that he was somewhat eavesdropping.

One day the both of you were going to do a simple walk through the park, but he had different ideas once you returned with each of your individual ice cream cones. You simply walked away for less than 10 minutes while going to the bathroom then hitting up an ice cream truck that was parked near a basketball court.

As you approached Shidou, you could tell he was in thought by the way he was staring off into the distance. At first you were going to question what it was he was thinking about, but upon walking closer you quickly overheard two guys conversation that were standing maybe 10 feet away.

"Dude you're not thinking. A therizionsaurus is the coolest dinosaur shown in Jurassic World: Dominion. The thing is a fucking beast with a meter long claws," one guy who rocked a voluminous undercut with a pompadour complained without clarification as you tried to piece together what was being said. All you could really focus on was the man's skinny jeans and random graphic tee though. Shidou didn't say anything as you got closer, so you knew he'd probably been following the conversation for a while.

"Hell no. A mosasaurus or the quetzalcoatlus is the coolest dinosaurs in Jurassic World Dominion and Jurassic World Rebirth. A therizionsaurus looks like its descendants are just chickens— not intimidating," sided the other man who you realized look disturbingly similar to Howard from The Big Bang Theory.

Right as you began to reach Shidou, he was pushing himself off the bench he'd been sitting on and making his way towards the two men. You opened your mouth to stop him and mutter a "get back here right now," but he was too far gone so you just sat down.

"Nah, I feel like the velociraptor in Jurassic Park is the best. The scene where it ate those people? Cinematic gold," Shidou announced as he causally dropped into the conversation. The two men paused at the added one, glancing over and the at one another as if to ask if the other one knew this pink haired guy.

Both of the other geeks went silent once Shidou joined the conversation, but of course that didn't deter your man. "Yo, am I muted or what?" he joked while just staring down at the two guys.

"Uh.. well.. no— that's definitely not the best dinosaur," one guy finally spoke up.

Immediately, the other one followed: "Yeah, it's really scientifically inaccurate. I mean the movie doesn't even include its feathers when fossil records strongly suggest they were covered in them"

"Well it's opinions based," reasoned your boyfriend who was relentless in his pursuit of proving his beloved velociraptor was the correct choice. "I mean we're talking about Jurassic Park, how accurate is it that they rebuilt dinosaurs from a DNA sequence?"

The man who had a strikingly similar features to Brendon Urie speaks up, "Sure but we're specifically focusing on dinosaurs, not logistics"

"But you just gave a logistic to disagree with my dinosaur."

"Uh-.. well-.. um—"

"How are you going to say—" he started up again, but you were quick to try and interrupt him; purely due to taking pity on the other two men who were unknowingly about to engage in a long heated discussion with your boyfriend about dinosaurs.

"Shidou," you called out while staring directly at his side profile. You were still maybe 10 feet away, but it's clear you were trying to get his attention. However, silence just followed your comment as the two other men look over, but Shidou doesn't dare.

"... anyways, like I was saying—" he starts to talk again and entirely ignore your interception. Of course, you knew it was because you didn't call him the nickname he'd recently been on insisting.

With an annoyed sigh, you interrupted his sentence again, "Ryu"

Finally, he pretends like it's the first time he's heard your voice and instantly perks his head up to look at you. A wide grin is then displayed across his features as he excitedly ditches the conversation he crashed and immediately walks towards you: "My sweetie pie! Aw you're back. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back!" he speaks loudly, for he wants the two other men to see his girl and— well you don't even know what the hell he was hoping for.

"Yeah, I've got our ice cream," you mumbled while he's already by your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders while his other hand is plucking his cone out of your grip.

"Perfect, let's go find shade. This spot has a weird..." he pauses and throws a glance towards the two men who were still looking at him, but then looked away once they were caught, "weird smell."

You couldn't smell a damn thing but you understood your boyfriend's antics, and how pissy he could get when someone disagreed with his velociraptor argument. Trust, you went through the same disagreement after you 'wrongfully' claimed a dilophosaurus was the coolest— to which he promptly made fun of the name for sounding like 'dildo.'

You just let him navigate you towards a bench in the shady part of the park as you gave a few licks to the ice cream.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who never even thought to be shy about loving all over you in public.

You two were waiting in line for something? His hand was around your waist and his head leaned on your shoulder so he could watch whatever reel you had playing.

You got a new drink he hadn't tried? He was quick to swipe it and drink after you. Then he'd either complain about liking the other one more, or just keep sipping on your drink till it's half gone.

You were in a clothing store and needed to try something on? Best believe he was trying to follow you into the room and would whine when you pushed him out and said, "The stores policy is only one person per room."

You were literally trying to do anything in front of him— like ordering at a counter, looking through clothes on a rack, or picking what snacks you wanted off of a shelf— and his hands would act like magnets and latch onto your hips. God it was even worse when he'd lean down to pepper kisses to the back of your neck and you'd have to squirm out of his hold while you felt his muffled giggles against your nape.

Needless to say Shidou didn't care much about who saw him loving on you, and you also slowly adapting to his mindset. Previously, you were too shy to even hold his hand because you knew some people hated PDA. Though, through exposure therapy, he slowly had you 'coming out of your shell:' how he phrased it.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who for the longest time he didn't understand why people were so shy. In his mind, nothing lasts forever so why would he waste time worrying about what others might think? To him, it seemed illogical to let what others may or may not be thinking decide whether or not he'd do something he wanted to do.

Hell, he'd go as far as to say he was annoyed with others who were overly self conscious.

However, that all changed when he met you and the two of you started dating, so he realized there was levels to this shit. He'd see you stress over things he thought were simple, but instead of annoyance he had more sympathy. Secretly, because he doesn't want you to think he's some sadist, he also thought it was somewhat cute how worked up you could get.

Before ordering something, you'd make sure you could say whatever it was 10x and even whisper it under your breath just to make sure.

If someone complimented you on the street then you'd freeze up and just manage out a 'thank you!' but then complain to him about how you wanted to compliment the strangers hair.

Obviously, Shidou was learning. If you were nervous about something you had to say or do, he didn't brush off your concerns with a 'why does it matter so much?' Instead he'd sit and listen, then slowly try to coax you into realizing it's just a small bit of your day and everything would be alright afterwards.

If you went on to then complain that his words aren't helpful because 'your mind just doesn't work like that,' then he'd just hum and think up a new strategy. Typically, it involved him doing something stupid just so you'd laugh and your mind was off it for a while.

Though when you were really anxious about something and simple laughs wouldn't make it go away, he adapted to other methods. You'd tell him whatever situation you didn't want to happen, and he'd just give an approximation on what the likelihood of it is.

"It's just this teacher always calls on students. I swear he thinks it's funny to watch someone be miserable," you explain while sitting on the grassy field. Shidou had just gotten done with football practice, and you of course waited for it to be over so you two could hang.

He sat beside you and just watched your hands as you fiddled with a blade of grass, it would break, then you'd just pluck another off the land.

"Well how many people are even in your class?" he asked as you tied the blade into a knot.

"Mh.. probably.. like.. 25?"

"Okay, so you have a 4% chance of being called on— that's alright odds. And plus, even if you do get called on then it's like.. 10 seconds, then you're done. If everyone else is just as nervous then they probably won't even pay attention to what you say."

You were quiet for a moment. Sure his words did help but they wouldn't stop all your thoughts from rushing. Still you sat motionless and just let the piece of grass fall from your fingertips as you looked over at him.

"I mean I guess so," you mumbled.

"You guess? Babe don't doubt my wisdom. Now come on, let's start walking so we can grab something to eat before that one store closes," he insisted while standing up and then grabbing your hands to quickly pull you up as well.

He knew he couldn't make all of your anxiety go away, but he was trying to learn how to at least lessen it.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who knew it was going to be hard on the both of you when he went to Blue Lock's training facility. He'd spend practically every day with you and when he couldn't, he'd constantly be texting you. So for the two of you now having to basically go into forced no contact? Yeah, it was difficult.

You didn't complain about it because you knew your boyfriend was excited, but he sure as hell complained. Sometimes he'd get sanctioned phone calls because he supposedly scored 5 goals in a match, but even then it was far too little.

Whenever he did get a phone call, he was swift to talk as soon as he heard the receiver pick up: "Hi baby I love love love you and miss you so much!" he'd say in that silly high pitched baby voice while literally laying on his stomach in his bed.

He never told you whenever you both called he was always in a room for at least three other guys, but you could assume because sometimes his line would be muffled and you'd hear him snap 'shut up' to someone else.

That 'someone else' typically being Rin Itoshi because he always told Shidou to have enough courtesy to leave the room when he was talking to some girl. Of course that line would just lead to an argument, then almost a fight because Shidou did not play around with people telling him what to do in his relationship. Even if Rin did have a bit of a point— it's not like the other roommates, Otoya and Karasu, were that chill with having to listen to Shidou act like he was speaking to a puppy.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who was practically kicking down your door to get to you once he was let out of Blue Lock for a few days. The man didn't even go home first and instead marched straight to your house.

When you did open the door, excited to see him and wearing a new outfit you bought since you guessed the two of you would go on a long awaited date, you were utterly shocked for him to be lunging at you.

Once your door swings open, he didn't wait for any words before an arm was slung around your waist and his lips were on yours. His free hand cradled your face as he walked you backwards into your house and out of the doorway; the door just slowly closing itself. He only stopped after gently pushing you backwards until your back met the wall.

The kiss was hot and messy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth and practically licked at every crevice. He sucked on your tongue too as his hand on your hip gripped and massaged the skin. Slightly light headed, you finally felt him pull back just a tad so he could stare at you.

"Ugh I've missed you. Would've tried to sneak you in if I thought some of those guys wouldn't have been a cockblock," he muttered against your lips before giving a light kiss and pulling away to lean his forehead against yours.

You couldn't help but smile at how needy your boyfriend sounded as he had you pinned against the wall. His hand dropped from holding your cheek and jaw to instead trace up and down your sides. Deliberately tracing his fingertips over the sides of your breast before slowly dragging them back down.

"I missed you too," you quietly confessed.

"Yeah? You missed me so so so much?"

"Yeah, I missed you so so so so much," and you leaned up to place a kiss on his lips once more. He let you begin kissing him again, but he forced himself to not get carried away this time. It was softer and more longing as his lips moved rhythmically against yours while his senses focused on how you tasted, how you feel under his hands, and how you smell like the familiar perfume.

Finally, the kiss was broken by you as you pulled away and gasped when he was suddenly bending down more to loop his arms under your thighs and pull you up. He easily hauls you up with both of his hands planted firmly on your ass as he walks the familiar route to your room.

"Ryu!" you laughed, "I thought we were going out on a date first!"

"Hun you really thought I was gonna come back to you and not want to see all of you immediately? Couldn't even beat the meat in there."

"Oh my god TMI," you said while trying to stifle a laugh at how genuinely sincere he looked at you while delivering one of the most lewd lines you've heard in awhile.

"Can't help it baby. I'm all pent up for you," and he just pushes the door to your room open with a foot. Of course, from how his hard on shamelessly pushed against his sweats and into your core, you could tell he meant every word.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who wasn't always loud like people thought he was. Most people around him would swear they've never seen him quiet and visibly paused in thought; however, you'd seen in plenty of times.

Early into the two of you dating, he'd asked to take you to a local art gallery because he was interested in one of the shows they had going on for the month. Stupidly, you giggled when he asked because you truly thought he was joking. Yet when you saw the look in his eyes, as if he was suddenly hit with a pang of disappointment, you quickly improvised on saying you heard about the exhibit from a friend earlier and it was so crazy Shidou would bring it up the same day! Sometimes lying shouldn't be frowned upon.

When you stood next to him as he just stared at a specific sculpture for seconds, then a minute— you understood he had been genuine. A wave of guilt rushed over and submerged you from remembering how he paused for a moment after you laughed and got that look in his eyes, but rapidly recovered to fired off something silly about being 'intergalactically connected' with everyone that those coincidences happened. From that moment on you learned not to laugh at everything Shidou was saying because plenty of times, he was truly testing the waters for something else.

Like when he heard A Clockwork Orange was playing at some movie theatre and he subtly slipped that into a conversation when the two of you were discussing date options. Many people would've rolled his eyes at his suggestion— you mean really, the guy who seemed to not be able to stay still and quiet for 5 minutes watching a long psychological movie? Seemed absurd. However, you swiftly agreed.

He was ecstatic to watch the movie with you and even snuck in various candy bars for the two of you under his club jacket. All throughout the previews he talked and shared his opinions on what ads looked stupid and which ones seemed like some money grab. "Why the hell would I need a complementary drink carrier when I have two hands myself?" he'd question while watching some appliance be advertised for the theatre. A few people even looked over when he loudly laughed at a joke told in another movies trailer.

Yet when the movie did start? He was silent. A few times you glanced over, but you just saw him staring at the screen with unwavering attention.

Once the movie ended, you two were leaving and he was rambling all about different metaphors he caught and how amazing the theme of conformity due to the state vs free will was.

He was also already going on about the other movies you needed to watch— Fight Club, Whiplash, and Project Hail Mary being a few you remembered him rapidly listing off.

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who is the biggest hype man in existence.

Like, he's always gushing over you as if he isn't the least bit worried you'll get a big head. He was never afraid nor ashamed to compliment you several times in the span of 10 minutes simply because he liked how your hair was or how you painted your nails.

For example, Shidou sat on the edge of your bed and just waited for you to come out of the bathroom so he could see your full outfit. Never mind the two of you had a dinner reservation in 30 minutes and you could easily be late— he wouldn't rush the princess.

Though once you finally stepped out of the bathroom in that new dress you hesitantly bought a few weeks ago and have been putting off wearing, he freezes. He's staring, ogling, at you with widened eyes for a good 10 seconds before he's standing up with a smirk.

"Baby that looks perfecttt on you. Come on, give me a spin," he says while taking your hand and holding it up so you can do a twirl.

Your cheeks reddened and you oblige to do a tiny spin. When you face him again, you see him trying to look around your side back to your ass. You gasp, as if offended when both of you just know it's only fueling your ego, "Hey! And here I thought you were just being sweet."

"I can't help it! Your booty just looks so scrumptious— do another spin and pause at the 180 mark."

"God, I'm not doing anything if you phrase it like that," you stated while pulling your hand away from his, but he was quick to try and recover but sliding his hands to your hips.

"No no," he whined, "please, you look so hot I'm literally aching— and i don't just mean my heart."

"You mutt— get off! Acting like I'm throwing you a damn bone."

"If I get down on all fours and bark, will you?"

You scoff and roll your eyes at Shidous absurd suggestion; though you really couldn't bring yourself to be annoyed. You just do a small, unenthusiastic spin that has his eyes darting everywhere— specifically the hem of the dress that lifted up just slightly.

"Oh I'd so eat you out— Ow! Up! I meant up!" Shidou changed his wording as soon as you smacked him with pillow that had conveniently fell to the ground when he first got off the bed. He just held out a hand in front of him whilst attempting to dodge your pillow attacks.

"Shut up! Can you not be horny for a second!"

"Not if I'm in a room with you— hey, watch the face!"

¡Loud Bf Shidou! who people didn't understand was able to date such a quiet girl. Sure maybe 'opposites attract,' but they thought your relationship couldn't be applied to that statement.

Whenever other people would see the two of you out in public, they'd rudely gossip amongst themselves even though they didn't personally know either of you.

"Has she even gotten a word in this whole time? Jeez, men only talk about themselves."

"How the hell can he even be with her? It must be like trying to keep a conversation going with a wall."

"Do you think they're actually together and he's not just bugging her? Maybe we should go over and act like her friend incase she needs a way out..."

Yeah— that last thing actually happened when two women believed Shidou was some persistent guy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Politely, you explained he is actually your boyfriend and everything was alright. Props on them for watching out for others though!

Overall people thought the two of you were a bit of an odd pair. Yet you, Shidou included, couldn't help but feel like you two complimented each other more than anything. Where he was loud and erratic, you were calm and quiet. When he was quick to judge and pounce on a situation, you observed it and considered all possible outcomes. He didn't mind arguing with someone or saying something if they wronged you in any way; whereas you would've begrudgingly let it go and have it fester in your mind for days.

Though that didn't mean the two of you were confined to whatever 'roles' people thought you guys had. In private, he could be quiet and composed. Sometimes you'd randomly get in the mood to ramble about things that interested you, like a show you'd been watching, and he just sat quietly and stared.

In truth, he loved when you went through these short burst of energy and sudden need to get everything out. He'd add attentive hums and nods as you passionately discussed whatever topic it was. It wasn't often you would talk for 30 minutes to a hour without much of his own commentary, but when it happened he was sure to savor it.

Shidou truly didn't know what god or goddess blessed him when you timidly walked into his life, but he was going to make sure you weren't going to randomly walk back out.

Blue Lock Fics

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

ᥫ᭡ = smut / suggestive

♡ = fluff

Sae Itoshi

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ short series

♡ ¡Best Friend Sae! x ¡Reader! Pt. 1

ᥫ᭡ ¡Best Friend Sae! x ¡Reader! Pt. 2

Michael Kaiser

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ short stories/multiple parts

♡ Rebirth

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ oneshot

♡ ¡Foreign Athlete Kaiser! x ¡Barista Reader!

Shidou Ryusei

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ oneshot

ᥫ᭡ ¡Loud Boyfriend Shidou! x ¡Quiet & Shy Girlfriend Reader!

♡ To Be an Artist's Muse

𑣲║ ¡Best Friend Sae! x ¡Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Part One ↠ Part Two

Word Count: 4.7 K

fluff & a bit of angst

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Now Sae Itoshi may be the kinda guy to say 'I told you so' when someone goes against his plan in football and fails, but he certainly wasn't that guy when it came to you. Sure, he unintentionally was condescending and patronizing in ways he had tried to explain to you that your boyfriend was a piece of shit. He really didn't try to be like that.

Though truly, he wonders how you couldn't see what he saw. Sae knew you since you both were in elementary school— being next door neighbors and all. He constantly saw how boys would glance at you longingly. Then of course they'd get a glimpse of Sae's glare and scamper away. So if he could notice all these boys throughout your shared schooling years noticing you: why on Earth couldn't you?

He'd hear you mope about how all your other friends were getting boyfriends yet you had no luck. God, he wanted to roll his eyes at your tangents. Though, you luckily never stayed on one topic long and would quickly just divert into convincing him to read whatever anime you recently picked up.

"No I swear this one is good!" you'd vehemently defend as he's just staring at you with his typical dead panned expression.

"Last time you said that, we watched a whole show where they wiggled their asses multiple times"

"Don't phrase it like that! Studio Bones is just weird with animating in some clips. Bungo Stray Dogs is peak"

"Can you even explain the plot line?" he questioned while staring— unimpressed. You opened your mouth, paused for a moment, then closed it with a 'hmph,' and finally turned away. Needless to say, the two of you just watched whatever dumb football player he liked.

Sae wasn't exactly sure when you entered his life, but his earliest memory was when you attended his football game. You sat beside Rin and watched as Sae dribbled up and down the field. Though when Rin eventually crashed the game by intercepting a pass himself, you didn't even realize he escaped from by your side, you couldn't help but laugh. Seeing Sae defend Rin from his teammates calling the younger boy a "runt" triggered something in your little mind that made you decide Sae Itoshi would be your friend from that day on.

You held that decision close to your heart all throughout primary school, but it was challenged when you and Sae were 13.

You knew his dream was to play football for the world to see, so you never complained about having to sit at his practice after school for 2 hours, usually 3 because he'd stay longer, just waiting for him to walk you home. Though now, you two faced a bigger obstacle.

Sae was offered a spot for a program in Spain, and from the moment he told you, you knew you didn't have to question if he'd do it. You weren't waiting 3 hours for him anymore, you were waiting days just for a text back. Again, you didn't complain because you knew he was chasing something bigger than maintaining a friendship with a childhood friend. It wasn't sudden or messy, but the two of you slowly drifted more apart. There were still calls and texts; just checking up and not compromising the entire relationship, but it was different.

Sae was relatively out of touch with what was happening in your life, but he naively thought everything would be the same once he got back.

So, when he texted you right before he got on the plane, he expected to land with you waiting at the airport. After touching down and finally turning his phone back on, he paused while reading your text.

"hey sorry but i can't meet you tn! let's meet up tomorrow. so so excited to hear about spain :)"

Let's just say you didn't hear much about Spain. When the two of you met up at the park in your neighborhood, your idea for nostalgias sake, it was awkward.

You couldn't remember if he truly didn't talk that much in general, or if he's changed that much. Sure, he told you a bit about Spain after practically interrogating him on if he saw the Royal Palace, what the food was like, how fluent he is in Spanish, and other random thoughts you blurted out. It did feel like you were practically forcing him to answer everything; as if he was pained from your 20 questions.

Meanwhile, Sae is just staring at you and trying to process how much the girl who knew matured. He wasn't ogling once so ever, just observing like he did whenever he was on the field. You still had the girlish grin and familiar eyes, but it was noticeably different.

Sae nor you were technically uncomfortable by the changes each of you displayed, but it did take some time getting used to. Like reuniting with cousins during a family reunion and the first 30 minutes are compiled with nervous 'so how are things?' or 'you're still at that same school, right?' Though after about a hour, everything clicks back into perspective and you're talking as if no time has passed.

Eventually Sae is questioning about your life just to reciprocate the same curiosity. You update him on whatever people you both knew from middle school. The people who have gotten suspended, the rare pair relationships, and unexpected people you're now friends with.

However the most noticeable thing he catches onto is when you mention a boyfriend.

"Hm? Boyfriend?" he causally repeats what you said after you subtly slid in how your friends, and boyfriend, got tickets to some concert.

"Oh yeah! I didn't tell you? Shucks, well we've been dating for almost a year now!"

Sae just nods absentmindedly while considering what the hell this feeling he is experiencing is. It's not jealousy, for he truly had no reason to be jealous. You two were friends and it's not like you 'replaced' him; no, that'd be childish to even insinuate.

It had been nearly 5 years since Sae left for Spain and both of you were 18 now. He'd have to be crazy to think you haven't gotten a boyfriend by now. Sae just pushed it away and offered a hum, then asked who the artist at the concert was to divert the conversation.

Yet that boyfriend just kept coming up and up again. Sae and you began to spend more time together like the both of you once did before he left. In the first several months of Sae returning, he couldn't count on all his hands and toes how many times your boyfriend got pissy about Sae being with you.

Sae met the guy quickly after he got back and yeah, he wasn't impressed. He didn't say anything, but you clearly were settling way below your league— in his humble opinion. Sae could just read the guys body language and tell he was uncomfortable around him. At the same time, who wouldn't be?

The guys girlfriend has a childhood friend who just so happens to be a training professional athlete that came back from overseas and instantly is buddy buddy with her? Not to mention how Sae is naturally intimidating with a tall build and stare that makes even professional football players hesitate.

Hell you boyfriend even privately told you he doesn't much like Sae; to which you rapidly defended the man and even got upset. After that, you unwisely chose to go to Sae and subtly slip what your boyfriend said into conversation in hopes that Sae would lift that intimidating persona, but he double downed more than anything.

"What?" he replied while staring at you after he stopped mixing the cookie batter. You invited him over to just make some sweets despite him claiming he was on a diet for football. If he didn't eat the sweets, you sure would.

"Yeah, he thinks you're trying to be off putting"

"He said 'off putting?'"

"Don't shoot the messenger. Just uh.. maybe lighten up with him. I want you two to get along"

"I'm doing just fine getting along. Sounds like he's just sensitive," Sae muttered nonchalantly while going back to stirring the mixture.

You roll your eyes and sigh; stopping gathering the cookie cut outs you wanted to use. You just strolled over to Sae's side and looked at the batter, taking a small bit that was towards the top of the bowl, and then looking up at him. Your hip leaned against the counter top as you nibbled off a bit of the chocolate cookie mixture from your index finger.

"I'm being real, Sae. Pretty please with extra sprinkles on top? At least try your best to cut out the awkward glares."

He glances over and freezes for a second when he realizes how close you were to him. His eyes trace over the small pout gracing your features and focus on your lower lip. Swiftly snapping out of it, he scoffs and looks back down to the cookie dough.

"Whatever. Guess since his mom is getting onto me," he snarks.

"Aw remember to play nice sweetie," you joke and place a teasing kiss on his cheek before swiping some more cookie dough and returning to sorting through the cut outs. Sae just keeps staring at the dough before you reprimand him for potentially over mixing it.

So Sae obviously wasn't a fan of your boyfriend to begin with. He wasn't thrilled with the information although he still couldn't place his finger on what made him so irritated about it. Sometimes he'd ask if you wanted to meet after a practice, like you use to, but you'd just text back that you're on a date. Even worse was when the both of you had plans, but you cancelled because something came up with your boyfriend.

Sae never really said much when people cancelled plans cause typically he couldn't care less if he did or didn't have to go, but this was annoying. You two could literally be walking along the sea shore while you rambled about something, but then you'd get a call and suddenly have to go sooner than expected.

He kept those thoughts inside for the most part; well he did until you were cancelling your plans again. You were over at his house and just laying on his bed, but you got up after getting a text. You both were planning to walk to the local convenience store after Sae finished the required schoolwork he had to do on his own time since he focused on football so much.

"Shoot, I've gotta go. He wants to catch some movie," you explained while crawling off his bed so you could leave.

"Why is it so difficult for you two to plan things ahead of time?" he said, irritation clearly seeping into his tone that you easily picked up.

"Ehh he's just like.. more type B personality, you know?"

"Sounds like some lazy ass excuse. If you commit to something then you should follow through," he argued while trying to keep his tone even, though it was hard. Meanwhile you were taken aback by his frustration.

"What? Are you mad I'm leaving?"

"I'm just saying you always do this. It's just rude and I feel like you should've outgrew this 'habit.'"

You stare at his back as he still won't lift his head to look over at you. You just stare at the pink ball of hair bent downwards as he reads whatever worksheet he had.

"And I feel like you're overreacting. He's my boyfriend, of course I'm going to spend whatever time I can with him," you retort and finally see him lift his head as he sets the pencil down and turns towards you in the desk chair.

"Then why even make plans with other people? I don't care, just go. God knows he'd throw a fit over you being late."

With an annoyed scoff, you just turn and retreat out of his room without a word.

Following the next few days after the 'argument,' it's been radio silence. Sae didn't feel like texting nor calling you since you couldn't seem to admit your constant cancelation was rude. You didn't feel like texting nor calling purely because of your stubborn nature. Slowly, this died out after you casually texted and he responded without bringing up the previous ignoring each other phenomenon. Without discussing what happened, it slowly faded away despite it lingering in the back of both of your minds.

Eventually, the both of you are on a regular schedule of hanging out and now sit on that curb outside the convenience store with ice creams in hand. Again, Sae is subjugated to hearing about your damn boyfriend despite his clear avoidance of the topic.

"I don't know.. I just feels like he cancels on us," the irony clearly missed while you complain about your boyfriends lack of consistency as Sae just tried to tune out your words while staring at a few cars passing. "I mean we were literally supposed to have our anniversary dinner tonight but some game he wanted to watch came up."

Sae didn't say anything despite you deliberately pausing for him to intercept. After a moment of silence, you just picked up the one sided conversation: "I just feel like he's trying to do it on purpose. Don't you? I mean he's just doing it so often."

Again, silence followed your break in the sentence. Finally you turn to face him and see he hasn't even been looking at you. His ice cream is nearly all melted and slipping down his fingers to create a sticky mess.

"Sae? Are you listening?"

With a sigh, he finally glanced over and deadpanned, "What's the point of talking about this? He's an asshole, you know it, you stay with him. What do you want me to say?"

His eyes look vacant as he just tells you what's been on his mind this whole time. Of course, pain flickers like a flame in your chest from his harsh delivery.

"No need to be so rude."

"Well it's the same damn thing. Sorry I don't want to listen to you complain when I know you'll forget about it if he called you and asked to hang out right now."

"Are you saying I don't have self respect or some shit?" you fired back.

"I don't know, do you?"

"Go fuck yourself," you snapped and instantly began to stand while tossing the ice cream into the trash a few feet away. You didn't bother looking at the stick for your lucky fortune like you used to insist on when you were younger.

Sae watches you for a moment, then began to stand himself and also threw the ice cream away. He knew he was being blunt, but he really didn't think you'd get that upset.

"I didn't mean to make you upset," he clarified while beginning to walk over to you. Though, you were quick to spin around and jab a finger into his chest.

"You've been mean about him ever since you came back and I'm sick of it. Don't talk to me until you've sorted through whatever it is you've got going on."

He watches you turn on your heel and begin to walk in the direction of your house. He pauses and debates on walking after you— either to try and salvage this or just walk back to his house as well since you both were neighbors. He just decides to let you walk and instead hangs around the convenience store so your wish would be followed.

Once again, the two of you were in a stand still as the days of ignoring each other went to a week, then a week and a half. Sae was reluctant to back down because he truly just stated what you needed to hear. Meanwhile you ignored him because your feelings were still hurt.

Sure your boyfriend might not care enough to make actual plans, nor actually follow through with them. Maybe he complains about your friends, specifically Sae, and talks crap to the point where you have to defend them. And maybe your friends threw out comments on what could he possibly be so busy with, insinuating another woman, but you struck them down and even got pissy. Perhaps a few of your friends pointed out how irrationally upset he got at times and snapped at you, but it wasn't that bad? Besides, you always reminded yourself they didn't know him like you did.

You pushed what Sae said to the back of your mind and just kept seeing your boyfriend. You slowly began to feel that same longing you did when Sae first left to go to Spain, but you felt silly for feeling it once again. Sae had been hours away via airplane, now he wasn't even a three minute walk and it was too hard for you to make the journey. A sense of hopelessness invaded you whenever you even thought about walking over and calling.

What could you even say? He was reasonable with not wanting to hear you complain about your relationship all the time. Annoyingly, you felt like that picture of spongebob with loose handcuffs on his thin wrist.

Sae on the other hand had a pit of guilt settle deep within his chest that seemed unbudging. God it even began to affect his playing skills. He was trying to make a simple pass he wouldn't have even thought twice about when he was 15, but he just couldn't nail it like normal.

"Hey man, you kinda suck today. What's your deal? Lady troubles?" he heard his teammate question while walking over. Sae was having to play with the, in his opinion, idiotic half baked U-20's team while in Japan. The man approaching him would be the equally idiotic, half baked captain: Oliver Aiku.

Now Sae knew Aiku was teasing about him about having a 'lady problem,' but the wording stuck in his head. Sure he wondered if he should consult someone on this, but there wasn't really anyone. He sure as hell wasn't going to ask the man he overheard talk about 3 different women in the span of a week.

"Shut up. The rotation on the ball is just off," he uses as an excuse and turns to repeat the drill again.

It wasn't until one random night while Sae is laying on his bed, trying to get some sleep because he had early morning practice, that he heard his phone going off. Instantly, he knew it was you because he had all other people silenced.

"Sae can-.. can you please l-let me in," he hears your wobbly voice on the other end of the phone and rapidly realizes you're crying. 'Let you in,' you mean you were already at his house?

"Yes, I'm walking right now," he replies without question and is swiftly getting out of bed and walking quicker out of his room than he does even when he's late to practice. You already hung up the phone at his confirmation.

When the front door opens, quietly since Sae was living at home for the time being and didn't want to wake up his parents, he's met with a pitiful sight of you.

"What.. happened?" he whispered to you quietly while stepping aside so you could walk in. You gave a subtle shake of your head and just kept walking to his room. You didn't want to talk in the foyer because you weren't sure how well you could control your voice. He's on your heels while he follows behind you and just has to listen to your muffled sniffles through your hand.

As soon as you both step foot into his room, he's closing the door and reiterating: "what happened?"

"He's b-been cheating on me," you finally managed to mutter out as you sit down on his bed. Sae's room was dark, but he just walked to the desk and turned on that lamp so he could see you. Once he did, he felt his heart seize at your state. Since you two were kids, Sae only saw you cry a hand full of times.

You cried when you fell over and scrapped your knee, but you had only been 6 so it was somewhat understandable. Still, dealing with Rin and all, Sae was well trained and had immediately gone to your side and tried to coax you into calming down.

You cried when you spilled water all over yourself in middle school and some kid started a rumor you peed yourself. You always were the type of person who would cry once you were embarrassed. So, Sae quickly shot down anyone who tried discussing that fake rumor and instead, he made his own rumor. Sae told all of the other 12 year olds that he had witnessed the other boy fall up the stairs and immediately start crying until a teacher came to help. Sure, it was hardly believable nor remarkably embarrassing, but the other 12 year olds ran with it.

Then, there was the time you cried when he left. This was the most painful because it was him making you cry. You couldn't follow him all the way to the airport, so you had to say goodbye on the train platform. He still remembered the tears in your eyes while you reassured him you were just so happy he was getting opportunities he wanted. Though, from how tight you gripped him in a hug, he knew that wasn't entirely true.

Now, as he slowly sat down beside you on the edge of his bed and watched how your chest rose and fell unevenly, tears streaming down your pink cheeks, and lip trembling: he felt useless.

How dare that asshole cheat on you. He had gotten the sweetest girl he probably ever met, and discarded her like she was trash.

"Oh," is all Sae could mumble for a second as his widened eyes rushed over your features and tried to find a way to calm you. "He-.. he doesn't deserve you. You were always too good for him," you hear him say as the Sae Itoshi managed to stutter in a sentence.

"I-I just don't get why he'd do i-it. What did I lack that h-he had to find else where"

"Hey, don't think like that," he quickly stated while doing whatever comforting move he could think of: wrapping an arm gently around your shoulders to bring you into his side. "He's an idiot— absolutely brain dead. Don't try and find a reason for his dumbass choices."

You just let your head fall on Sae's shoulder as his hand softly strokes up and down your shoulder to bicep.

"That doesn't make me feel better. T-the first guy that likes me, and he just ditches me like it's nothing," you said while trying not to work yourself up again into sobbing. You already felt tired from the waterworks you'd be doing earlier tonight. After a while, you had finally broken down and told yourself you'd walk over, but if he didn't answer the phone then you'd leave. Of course, he answered.

"He's not the first guy that's liked you. I promise you— you know I wouldn't lie."

"M-maybe but t-that doesn't change that he was my first boyfriend," you began, originally planning on saying something else but a sob broke out so you just quietly gave up. Sae tenses at the sob as he realizes he's not calming you down enough.

"Hey, it's okay. He doesn't have to be important even if—"

"But he is important!" you cried as your shoulders trembled. "He is important. He- what if he-.. is the only guy that-.." again, your words trail off.

Sae is split with what to do. On one hand, he wants to remind you that you're still young and you'll find somebody. On the other, he could also remind you a man shouldn't be your central focus in life. Though, hearing another hiccup from you as tears cascaded down your pretty face, he decides against trying to lecture you.

"He won't be the only guy," Sae insists in a slightly more desperate tone, or at least as desperate as he has ever sounded. He's trying to snake a hand to gently guide your face to look at him so he could make sure you're listening. Your eyes finally lock and he just sees the pitiful tears in your red, swollen eyes from crying. Sae had made you cry once over something he really couldn't even help and the guilt practically tore him apart. Now, this random man was making you sob and the guy didn't even care? It disgusts Sae.

"But h-he could be the—"

Without thinking, Sae leaned down and pecked a sweet, soft kiss against your lips. He didn't try to do too much; just letting his lips linger for a moment. When he pulled away, he saw you reopen your eyes once the kiss was over and your sobbing subsided. You looked shocked, but you still leaned against his body and stared into his eyes.

"There's other guys out there.. Don't let him get to you, please," and he's wiping a damp strand of hair off of your cheek with his thumb while he doesn't break eye contact. Sae didn't want to be overbearing or seem like he's suddenly springing his own emotions on you, but he truly knew no other way to communicate. He's never been one for talking about how he feels nor verbally comforting another, and you know that.

You stared for a moment longer into his teal eyes as you focused on his long lashes, smooth skin, usually sharp eyes that instead looked softer, and you practically melted. You learn forward and he already knows what you want as your lips meet again in a slow, rhythmic pattern. After only a few seconds, the both of you pull away as to not increase the intensity of the gentle kiss.

"O-okay," you whispered with a nod despite the two of you not having said anything for a minute or two. He's then just adjusting himself on the edge while navigating you to lay down comfortably on his pillow.

You land on your side as no more words are exchanged about the kiss nor what it meant. He leaned over and flicked the desk light lamp out before lying next to you. The only light in the room was the moons that shined through the crack between his curtains. Still, as his eyes adapted to the darkness he could see your silhouette perfectly.

"I wanna be—" you began, but he interrupted it as he began to speak instead.

"We-.." he paused, waiting for you to stop talking before he swiftly continued, "we don't need to talk about this tonight. You need sleep; we'll talk in the morning and get breakfast sandwiches from the convenience store," he whispered. He didn't want you worrying about what the kiss meant or if you were in some 'new relationship' despite just breaking up. He knew you had to have been exhausted, and a way to perk you up was to always mention whatever food you enjoyed.

You gave a small nod and then everything was quiet once again. The faintest sound of the sea waves crashing against the shore could be heard. Then, a rustle of sheets penetrated the air as you scooted closer and laid an arm over his torso. He was still, feeling you scoot closer and lean into his chest while giving him a loose hug.

The action reminded him of the days where you both just went home and took a nap together after school or his practice. Your parents always thought the picture of you two innocently curled into each other was heart warming. You could also swear it was the most comfortable sleep you ever received. Now, you were in the same position again and you felt your body relaxing.

His hand cautiously made its way to the back of your head to hold you close while he softly stroked your hair. Slowly, you drifted to sleep as you felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear and his faint, steady heartbeat.

In the morning, he'd walk you to the convenience store and you'd both retrieve your favorite breakfast sandwich. Then, you would either sit on the curb or walk alongside the beach and talk about what the both of you had suppressed for years. Though first, Sae had to ensure you fell asleep against him and stayed in his arms throughout the night.

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𑣲║ ¡Art Professor Sukuna! x ¡Student Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: degradation, praise, fingering, actual sex, probably incorrect use of art terms/art history, dirty talking, hair pulling, spanking, bit of a size kink, creampie, implied age difference with reader being in 20's/college and sukuna is professor

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¡Art Professor Sukuna! who's class is mostly taken by freshman who assumed it'd be an easy elective to fulfill that general education requirement. Wouldn't it be just like whatever art class they took back in high school? Make clay bongs, cigarette trays, or whatever other profanity they can sneak in under the guise of 'what? It's just art?'

However, you weren't like that. No, you truly were a cut above the rest because you didn't just take this class because it seemed like an easy credit. You also took it because of how hot the professor looked at orientation! Different faculty members were forced to present; you say 'forced' because the pink haired man seemed reluctant to walk up to the podium and offer a short spiel about his class.

On their first day of class, students walked in to find a wide open studio with few windows spontaneous placed along the outer walls. There were easels and seats place in a uniformed way and were all situated around a platform in the middle; where some could guess a model would stand. Cabinets lined the front half of the classroom where you could assume some art materials were, but there was also a spare room branching off of one of the walls.

Overall it was decently generic, aside from the not so generic, stereotypical art professor. Typically, people loved to portray art teachers as free souls that wore unique clothes, congratulated students on their artistic expression shown through a painting of their girlfriend's tits, and danced in the rain or some shit. Professor Sukuna was not that kind of teacher though.

He seemed intimidating when you first met him: towering far above 6'0 and possessing sharp red eyes that you first thought were contacts.

When speaking, his voice was gruff and you didn't even realize how mean his stare could be until some student commented on how ancient Japanese art from the Jomon and Kofun period seemed vastly similar to art produced during the Kyoto, or Heian, period. That remark earned your class a 30 minute passive aggressive lecture about the different cultural focus and how the structured, high refined art from the Kyoto period was much different than the earlier centuries.

However, you noticed just how different he was when speaking to students individually. Sometimes he'd walk around the studio as people worked on whatever project was due by Friday, and he'd offer quiet tips or compliments.

"Your paint has become too watered down. It should be opaque and a smooth consistency, not running all over the damn paper. Just go try again."

"Those colors contrast nicely for the piece. Good choice."

"What is this composition? Are you trying to insult the model?"

Well maybe some of his remarks were compliments. Nevertheless, your heart beat a little quicker when he walked by your painting and gave an approving nod before moving onto the next student.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who decided his midterm exam would be giving his students two weeks to complete a self portrait. Of course, many students went the conventional route and just stared into the mirrors he provided, or the large one at the center of the room, and began to sculpt, paint, or draw themselves.

Whenever you tried to sketch, you always felt like you couldn't capture something right. One day it was being unable to illustrate your hair properly, the next was hating all the poses you picked, and by Wednesday of the first week you still hadn't chosen what clothes to depict yourself in.

By the end of class on Friday, you broke down and just told Professor Sukuna about your issues in hopes that he wouldn't give you an unimpressed look or roll his eyes. Much to your delight, he didn't make any face and simply hummed in thought at your predicament. Finally, his rough voice said, "Alright. I'll be in this studio tomorrow: feel free to stop by and I'll see if I can help"

Delighted, you nodded while offering a mumbled 'thank you, I'll see you tomorrow' as you finished packing up your stuff and swiftly left the classroom so you weren't the only student left with him.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who, like he claimed, was already in the studio by the time you walked in. You expected to find him tidying up the room since the college freshies had a tendency to get paint everywhere— much to your professors dismay.

Yet instead he was standing in front of a large canvas that was filled with a natural landscape and a temple placed in the middle. Alongside the temple was grand pine and plum trees as well as bamboo. You of course recognized them from an early art lecture where he discussed the "Three Friends of the Cold Season," or an early art form that incorporated specific trees to celebrate East Asian culture.

The temple was marvelous too with a vibrant, symbolic color of vermillion to decorate the elaborate columns and complement the green accents. The longer you stared, the more details you noticed as you gazed at what you could, for his wide shoulders blocked a good portion of the painting.

You weren't sure how long you stared at the art piece, but once you registered he'd turned around and was now staring at you— you quickly snapped out of it.

"O-oh, hello sir. I'm here, like you said I could be."

"Yes, I have two eyes," he said in a slightly snappy tone, but you'd come to realize that's just how he always talked.

"That's a beautiful painting. How long have you been working on it?"

He cleared his throat and glanced back to the piece until he finally answered, but he didn't turn back around to face you: "Several months I'd say. There's something missing to it"

You hesitate and teter back and forth on your feet for a moment before you decide to step closer, standing beside him, and look at the painting up close. You could see the intricate brush strokes covering the canvas and the impastro technique used by Rembrandt, then his pupils Carel Fabritius. Again, something he lectured about when covering western art movements and key painters of the 17th century.

"Perhaps... you could add more nature? The trees show buds so it's clearly spring time, so you could incorporate more wildlife? Maybe... flowers like chrysanthemums or any bird— no, maybe a crane," you mindlessly suggest as your eyes trace over the painting. When you didn't hear his reply you glanced over to find him already staring down directly at you.

You freeze, afraid you might've overstepped too much and he didn't need an intro art student suggesting to him what he should include in his painting. You open your mouth to back track, but are quickly cut off by a low grunt as he just looks back at his work. You couldn't tell if the grunt was in approval or simple acknowledgment, but you did know the conversation was clearly over when he set down his palette.

"Show me what you have so far."

Setting your bag down on a near by table, you dug through your bag until your fingertips made contact with your sketch book.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who glances over your sketches and makes note of all the different poses and styles you played with. Some outfits he recognized from days you wore them in school, a few were nude, and some were displaying different styles from realism to abstract. Clearly, you were really attempting to think this project over and find some way to express yourself in an art form.

"What don't you like about these?" he questions while his hand flips through the pages. He pauses at some and you get slightly embarrassed when you see his eyes tracing over a specific drawing of you. It was one you drew while in your dorm and trying to figure out how to capture yourself. You had sat in front of the mirror and picked apart your appearance while trying to get every curve correct. When you got to drawing your breast, you just gave up because even if it was an art course, you still were nervous about thinking of Professor Sukuna having to grade that.

Should you lean into naturalism and depict yourself in a nudist state— like the sketch he was staring at— or go for the hurt artist troupe and cover yourself in clothes for some metaphor?

"I just.. feel like they're all so bland. I can't tell if it's just my appearance or my lack of talent"

"I don't believe it's either," he grumbled and finally finished looking through the various papers. He turned to look at you more: "You're overthinking it. It's great you're putting in effort, but not so much if you're just fucking it up."

His bluntness makes you pause, but you quickly adapt with a sigh.

"So your advice is to... not think?"

"I didn't say that," he retorts quickly, "I'm saying you must've not been paying attention in classes where we drew a model. The anatomy is... what I'd expect from this class—" ouch "—but there's a prevalent lack of confidence. As if you've never drawn a human before."

You glanced away and just nodded in half agreement as you could already see this wouldn't be helping you at all. Sukuna watched your gaze though and could practically hear your disapproval— as if you were forfeiting.

"Hm," he makes another small grunting noise, then turns and rips out a blank piece of paper from your sketchbook, "Get up on the platform."

"What?"

"You can't hear? Get on the platform. I'll show you it's not as difficult as you think, so stand still like a model."

You stare at him as if he had two heads, then force your body to carry you over the small platform that was placed in the center of the studio. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you just stood there, "How do I.. uh, pose?"

"Whatever you'd like," he mumbles while you can see his pencil already moving, so you just stayed frozen as to not mess up what he was already doing.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who had you standing there for longer than you anticipated. You just stared off in a random corner and then would alternate to looking out the window for a while. Truly, you were just doing anything to avoid paying attention to how his gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you.

You made the unfortunate mistake of making eye contact on accident early on, and you embarrassingly almost tripped off the platform from the distraction. Though, you could've sworn you heard him breathe heavier through his nose; like your state amused him.

Finally, he stood up and began to walk towards you with the sketch he's been working on for some time. "Look, quick sketch like this and you're done."

You looked at the paper he held out to you, and you couldn't deny it seemed perfect. He must've caught your expression when you were looking out the window, for your gaze was adverted away from him and to the left. Your hands were awkwardly tucked behind your back and your hair fell perfectly in the drawing— you were sure he must've tried to make you look prettier.

You wanted to say 'that's great, but how the hell does you drawing good help me?' but you contained the impulsive thought.

"It's-.. it's really good," you whispered quietly. Meanwhile, he was staring down at you to gauge your reaction.

"Your sketches can look no different than this. You're just psyching yourself out from completing them," he deadpanned as his voice echoed in the otherwise quiet studio.

"I.. just don't know. This is perfect, but I'm unsure if it truly looks like me— no offense"

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who was getting real sick of your behavior. Sure, he's worked with insecure artist plenty of times over his years, but he just didn't get why you were so nervous. Scoffing, he lets the paper fall out of his hands and sway back and forth in the air as it fell.

His now free hands went to your shoulders and roughly, though not in any way that'd hurt you, led you to another part of the classroom. He was behind you pushing you forward with both hands planted on you as he forced you to walk; then you quickly connected that he's leading you to the mirror.

With a final shove, he takes his hands off of you as you stared into your reflection with widened eyes.

"That's what you look like and that's what I drew. What aren't you comprehending?" he almost snapped, but was making a conscious effort to not appear too rude and scare you off. He'd learned to hold back over the years.

"I-.. I really didn't mean to insult you. Your drawing was beautiful I just—"

" 'I- I- I-' you what? This isn't about you telling me the sketch was off," he stepped forward so he was closer to brushing his chest against your back, "this is you not realizing your very noticeable fatal flaw"

Your eyes switched to stare into his in the mirror. For some reason, you just now were wrapping your head around how much larger he was than you realized. His hands, calloused from years of holding pencils or brushes for long periods of time, drifted to your hips in a way that made you sharply inhale.

"You need to learn these," his hands trail up to your ribcage, "and this," he, respectfully, let's go for a moment to instead find his hands back on your shoulders and feel down your arms, "and your arms here. You need to look at your body until you can grasp your identity"

Despite him trying to make a point, you're half listening and half paying attention to how noticeably bigger his hands are in comparison to you. The unfamiliar weight of them pressing into your skin felt more erotic than anything some college boy had offered you.

"Are you offering to help?" you blurted out before thinking of the implications. You watched his hands pause, his eyes drifting to meet yours in the mirror, and his mouth frozen from where he must've opened it to say something else— then abruptly stopped.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who now had you turned around and pressed into his chest as he had your back flushed against the mirror. Shortly following your question, he was quick to capture your lips in a rough, searing kiss that immediately had you moaning.

Now, your button up top had been unbuttoned half way until he could at least pull your tits out of your bra and your shorts were discarded somewhere to the left. He had your leg hiked up over one of his arm while he free hand was buried in your hole. He pumped you senselessly while sucking and biting at your neck.

"Oh fuck me," you whined as he curled his index and middle finger just right that it hit that spongy spot inside you. Meanwhile, his thumb was working overtime to circle around your puffy clit.

"I'm getting to that doll," he muttered against your neck.

Your panties were hazardously pushed to the side and were getting drenched in the same wetness that slipped down your thighs in beads. Sukuna pulled away just enough to look down at where his fingers were pumping you and he damn near groaned at the sight.

"Prettier than anything I could ever replicate," he muttered to himself while your hip shuttered and your eyes squeezed shut— feeling his fingers help you to an orgasm.

"P-professor— S-," a moan is ripped from you when his thumb quickens, "Sukuna, I'm-.."

"Hm, I know, I know," he mockingly cooed while he couldn't help but laugh at your neediness. All he'd done was finger you so far— if you were falling apart on his fingers, he could only imagine what you'll do when he sticks his cock in you.

When you do cum, your knees buckle and you almost slide down the mirror, but Sukuna was able to quickly catch you. His one arm effortlessly brought you closer to him as he squished you into the mirror more so his other hand could keep helping you ride your orgasm.

"Yeah that's it. Giving it to me so easily— makes me wonder if that's the only reason you asked for help."

"No! N-No it's not!" you whined pitifully as your hands clutched his wide shoulders. His body probably completely concealed you if anyone were to walk in.

"Mmh, I don't know," he teased into your ear before he effortlessly manhandled you to be facing the mirror. His hand that had been fucking you comes up to just shove your head into the mirror so you wouldn't move. "Think you've been thinking with this pussy more than you have your mind. S'that right? You a dirty whore who just wants your cunt stuffed?"

You hear him fiddling with his belt as the metal clinks together and you hear a zipper lower.

"Don't worry; I'll clear your mind."

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who slowly pushed his cock into your cunt after working his precum over himself so it was lubricated enough. Though, he probably didn't even need to do that from how much you were dripping.

"Shit— you're dripping. Now I know you are a slut, but you're also a fucking liar," he rasps in your ear as one of his hands was planted on your hip while the other still ensured your head wasn't moving. He had leaned his body down just enough to say things directly in your ear; having to hunch over you so he wouldn't naturally tower over your form.

He experimentally thrust his hips flush against your ass a few times, then started to properly shove you against the mirror as he fucked into you harder. Your hands braced yourself weakly on the mirror as the cold surface kissed your nipples and made them pebble. The mirror dangerously wobbled, but he didn't seem to care.

"God you feel good," he groans while leaning his head onto your nape as his hips rolled into yours. Closing his eyes, he could focus on how warm you felt surrounding him in your softness. All he could think about was painting your walls white with his cum.

"S-Suku– na!" your whines were in tempo with his thrust as you moans broke off any sentence you attempted to say.

"Shh, shh," he mocks while his hand in your hair curled and yanked your head back instead. The burn coursed through your scalp, but the loud moan you let out answered any doubt he had about going this hard. "Pretty girls like you don't gotta say anything. Just— ah fuck, just take it baby"

His hand on your hip slipped to where you and him were connected; quickly trying to find your clit and rub figure 8's into it. Upon feeling the added stimulation, your back was arching as a high pitched moan was released; though it was muffled quickly by Sukuna's hand that had been in your hair.

As much as he loved your sweet noises, he couldn't be having any music teacher or other fine arts professor hearing how good he was fucking you.

"God aren't you mouthy. Always so quiet in class though," he muttered while standing up more so he could look down on your body properly. Your hips were wiggling and thighs trembling— as if they were about to give out.

His hand comes down hard against your ass once, then again and leave behind two pinkish handprints on your cheek.

"You better not fucking fall. I'm doing all the work— least you could do is— mhh, shit— baby," his words are interrupted when groans bubbled up in his throat from how he felt you clamp around him. Clearly, his dick, hand on your clit, and other hand slapping your ass pushed you over the edge.

Though, Sukuna wasn't far behind as his hand abandons your clit and both quickly go back to gripping your hips; letting your mouth free. His hips roll into you quicker and harder as he desperately chases his own orgasm and fucks like he's in some rut. A few tears brimmed your waterline simply from how much he was overstimulating you.

"S'too much! T-too much!"

" 'Too much!' " he teased back while mimicking your moans, but his mocks were cut short when you pulsed around him once more. Shuttering, Sukuna delivers a few finalizing thrust before he's doubling over on top of you and his hands squeeze your hips so tight you could bet his fingers will leave indents. His dick twitches inside you as his cum rapidly fills you up so much you felt as if you could feel him in your throat. At the same time, he unintentionally brought you to your third orgasm.

It was quiet for a moment as the only thing you could process was small sniffles and tears rolling down your pink cheeks. You hadn't been fucked that good in a long time— if ever.

Carefully, he's slipping his dick out as he realizes he completely forgot about even pulling out.

"Shit— I didn't mean to—"

"I-Its okay! I-I'm-.. on birth control," you managed to mumble out as you whined from the feeling of him no longer stuffing you. He pulled back once more, glancing down at the mess you made between your thighs. He slips a finger down and easily collects the mixture of his and your cum that had began to slip down your inner thigh.

He thinks, then presses his finger into the mirror— right beside your face. He smears the milky combination of liquid onto the mirror before saying one final demand: "Lick it off."

You blinked a few times as your tears slowly dried. With swollen lips from how he kissed you earlier, you leaned forward and obediently stuck out your tongue while licking a strip. You lapped at the mirror to make sure it was clean like he said. You could see his red eyes staring at you in the mirror as you practically make out with your reflection.

Once he's satisfied with your work, his hand is fisted into your hair once more and tugs your head back at him. He stares at your fucked out expression; then a tiny smirk tugs at his lips when he sees he did his job good. Swiftly, he's capturing your lips in another kiss where he's sucking, biting, and licking at your lips— wanting to get any excess cum off of your mouth before it's wasted.

"Did that help?" he lowly spoke against your lips when he pulled away.

¡Art Professor Sukuna! who now hasn't really addressed what the two of you did despite it being Monday. After your 'session' with him, you returned to your dorm and instantly began drawing.

You decided to go with a nude piece, so you just sat in front of your mirror and freely drew whatever you noticed about your appearance. In the end, you were actually satisfied with your work.

However, Professor Sukuna's reluctance to notice you was beginning to weigh on your mind. That Monday, you already finished the project despite having a whole week to continue working on it. Your productivity truly depended on infrequent, spontaneous burst of energy. You pondered on what else you could add, but nothing came to mind.

You watched him continue to walk around the classroom and answer any questions students had. A few times, your gaze drifted to the mirror and saw he must've cleaned it off. When class comes to an end, you're hit with a pang of sadness when you realize he isn't going to talk to you.

Well, that was the emotion you predominantly felt as you packed up whatever papers you'd gotten out to just awkwardly stare at. Though when a paper is dropped on your desk after majority of the class has left, you pause. You recognized the hand that left the note on the edge of your desk before he briskly walked off.

Reaching out, your hand grasped the folded paper before you hesitantly unfolded it. There, you saw a drawing clearly showing what's supposed to be you, with your chest flushed against the mirror and eyes clenched closed. Your jaw was dropped as your back dipped into a curve, but Professor Sukuna wasn't drawn. From the position it's drawn in, you knew Professor Sukuna was using his point of view from when he was fucking you.

Your breath was already caught in your throat as you stood up. You glanced over to see if Professor Sukuna was around, and mostly if any other students remained, but what you found wasn't what you wanted. You saw him retreating into one of the rooms that branched off; probably placing a students clay project in the kiln. Around you was several students who were still tidying up their work space, so you quickly flipped the mini drawing around so they wouldn't see.

Once you did, you finally saw the things inscribed on the back. In the middle of the small sheet of paper was a number, what you assumed was his personal cell, and then today's date, the time 6:00 pm, and a restaurant. Instantly, you realized what he was playing at, and swiftly finished packing up your things before leaving the studio to walk to your dorm. Afterwards, you'd leave all dressed up and cute to meet the man for your date.

𑣲║ ¡Law Professor Higuruma! x ¡Student Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: ¡fem! receiving oral, praise, making out, implied age difference with reader in 20's and Higuruma 36, face sitting, slapping at one part

────────────୨ৎ────────────

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who is known for having a 60% pass rate in your little college. It isn't that the man is bad at teaching, it's just people can't focus when they have a hunk like him in front of them!

He shows up in a black, pressed suit every day with a signature coffee in hand— enough to make the coeds drool. Then again, practically any man who isn't partying all week in sigma alpha epsilon or sigma chi is a total upgrade.

Then there was his constant relaxed expression like the actor Adrien Brody in the early 2010's. His voice was smooth and had a deeper pitch to it than the 20 year old men that look around lecture halls waiting to hit on some sorority girl. He carried himself with an air of silent confidence a 36 year old man should have, and a spritz of Versace Eros.

His voice could practically be recorded and uploaded into some asmr channel and have a couple thousands subscribers; even if he's just talking about actus reus or mens rea. He'd lean his hip against the desk while flipping through whatever case file he was discussing for the week and all you could focus on was how he rolled his cuffed sleeves up: exposing his delicious forearms.

Needless to say, you were pretty distracted all of the first semester which quickly nipped you in the butt when you took the midterm and got a whopping 65%. You were quick to message Professor Higuruma to try and sweet talk him into any possible extra credit.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who didn't necessarily say no to redemption, but he didn't like it. After all, it was college and it's important the adults he taught to grasp the content since they're training to be important members of society.

However, when he read over your professional, but clearly panicked, email and saw that you had completed his optional assignments— he cut you some slack. He arranged a meeting to go over the exam and review all the materials for partial credit on the assessment. Every day he saw you attend class, sit in the front row, and hang onto every word he'd say. He thought it was pretty sweet he had a student so attentive to their learning. If only he knew half of that "learning" was just trying to memorize the image of a vein running up his forearm.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who scheduled the one on one meeting for after his last class on Friday, for he really didn't want to do extra work on the weekends. Though you quickly obliged and threw out all Friday night plans with your friends; you did need that partial credit and you wanted an excuse to be with him.

Soon enough Friday rolls around and you showed up to his office at 5:30 pm sharp, like he instructed, all bright eyed and bushy tailed as you knocked on the door before pushing it open. His office was about how you'd expect with a basic brown couch that looked straight out of a Tuscany mom's house, books pilled on the bookshelves that lined the far end of the room, and a coffee table.

"Ah, quite punctual. Good trait to have— bit of a dying cultural thing," he comments with a slight smile that let you know he was trying to be welcoming by joking; well, slightly joking. "I hope you don't mind working at the coffee table. I was trying to reserve a study room in the library, but it seems like a few groups of students already took them"

"That'd be the literature majors! I believe Professor Nanami is having his midterm on Monday," you informed him with a smile while moving to the table and plopping yourself down on the couch. You'd worn a skirt, though slightly regretted it when you felt the cold leather kiss the back of your thighs.

"Hm," he hummed while standing from his desk and gathering papers you soon recognized as your actual midterm, "that would make sense. What was it Kento was teaching? The Chrysanthemum and the Sword?"

"Yep," you chirped, then immediately realized this is your professor you're speaking with so you swiftly switched your tone: "Um-.. Yes, sir"

Higuruma gave you a small glance, but inevitably just sat down in the couch beside you, but gave a respectable distance as he opened the exam packet for review.

"Well then, let's begin at the start with torts"

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who has now been beside you reviewing each individual question for nearly 2 hours. Apparently, you got a lot more wrong than you realized. You could've sworn you never learned about the rule against perpetuities.

Though, throughout your session you kept trying to gradually shift closer to the man. Whenever he'd point to a word to emphasis in the question, you'd lean over and tilt your legs towards him; as if being unable to properly see the font. He never commented on it; though one time your knees bumped lightly against his and he just cleared his throat and shifted his legs to not man spread, so you'd have more room.

"It's a notoriously abstract topic that requires analyzing if a property interest will certainly vest, fail, or be destroyed within a life in being—.. being plus 21 years."

He clears his throat, for probably the tenth time this hour, when he glanced over to you only to see you already staring at him through those pretty lashes.

"Oh so like, if a person grants land to their children, then to their grandchildren, it might be a violation if there is any possibility the grandchildren's interest could vest more than 21 years after the last child dies?" you ask back while referencing the question at hand.

"Yes, exactly. You're catching on quick— smart girl," he comments while flipping the page. It was a simple compliment, though the praise did shoot straight to your stomach as a familiar ache set in.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who has now been here with you for four hours. You had suggested the both of you going home simply because you didn't want to burden his entire Friday night, but he insisted he'd just rather finish the work now.

So, after a customary cup of coffee from his personal espresso machine, the two of you were nearing the last several questions of the exam. You were sure his office light would be the only one illuminating the otherwise dark building. Throughout the entire session, you had gradually inched closed until your thigh is finally brushing against his. He didn't comment on it, but you started to notice his subtle glanced towards your thighs every time he'd flip the next page.

"Alright, for this question I can understand your train of thought; however, it isn't the best answer"

"Mhm, and what is?" damn you're not even attempting to look at the paper at this point. He loosened his tie a while ago and just let his usually precise, white button up shirt open to expose more of his neck.

"Well..," he paused, gazing towards you for a moment since he's felt your stare since three minutes ago. He should've known better than allowing you to stay longer. Professors really weren't even supposed to meet with students past 6 pm— much less sit alone with a student who's been eye fucking him for the past 2 hours. "Hm, well, the distinguished evidence between civil and criminal law is advanced more appropriately in C because—"

"Yeah? I didn't really see that during the test I guess"

You hadn't even realized you began to subtly nibble on the edge of your bottom lip. Though, Higuruma does.

"Or maybe it's just getting hard to concentrate. I hope you don't mind a little brain break? Then we can knock out the rest of the questions," you proposed while not tearing your eyes off his dark ones.

"Hm, yes. That could do us good, and I don't mind it at all"

His gaze switched between your lips to your eyes, but you stayed fixated on his lips and rosy cheeks. Staring at him, you also realized just how close you were to the man. Since when were you nearly only 6 inches away face to face?

The moment continued for a couple more seconds, then the tension finally built up too much like a rushing river and the dam broke. You leaned in before he did, but he was quick to bring his steady hands up to tangle in your hair.

His mouth was moving against yours like a trained veteran as he sets the rhythm and lightly tilts your head back to prep for a new angle. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and you quickly catch the memo and let the wet muscle slot into your mouth.

You can't even tell how long the two of you had been kissing, but you did know one of his hands managed to drift to under your shirt and smoothed over your waist. Finally though, he's quickly pulling back with barley widened eyes as he stared at you. His breathing was heavier, much like yours.

"Oh god— sorry, sorry," he's apologizing while beginning to take his hand off your side, or at least not have it up your shirt. His mind is instantly racking through all the meetings and paperwork he'd have to fool with if anyone figured out he kissed a student and reported it. Sure, the both of you were adults but that doesn't negate the fact that you're on campus grounds.

"Huh? No, no it's fine," your hand shot down to his wrist in attempt to prevent him from breaking contact, "I wanted that"

Eyes trailing back down to your lips, body instinctively giving in to lean forward once more, but he catches himself when you readjust your grip on his wrist. Gently, he's still removing his hand from you.

"It's just we really shouldn't be doing this— it entirely breaks the universities policy"

You're practically following his body when he tries to subtly lean away. You bite your lip slightly to conceal your pout, but this disappointment was prevalent.

"It's okay," you insist but he's already just leaning back on the couch and one hand is pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes close in thought. He doesn't like annoyed, but he's definitely showing an emotion you'd never witnessed before. "I've wanted to do that for a while, do you not want to?"

"It's-.. it's not a matter of want, it's what's right. As a professor, I'm not supposed to be seen like—"

"Oh like you don't know half the class wants to fuck you"

The words come out so quick you hardly had time to process them before they have already slipped out. It was the truth, but perhaps you shouldn't have worded it like that. You see his hand drag down his face, eyes opening as it just covers his mouth for a second. Finally, it's slipping off his lips and lower jaw and falling back into his lap.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about. This is all strictly educator and student. I-.. I think we should continue with the last few questions—"

"Professor Higuruma," you interrupted. He had gone back to trying to pick up the paper from the coffee table, but your tone makes him retreat: leaving it abandoned. "If.. you want this, then I'd really like to give it to you..."

His gaze is locked on you as his mind move a mile a minute while mulling over each possible outcome. All of which get interrupted when the idea of what you sound like cumming takes over. Rapidly, and without much more consideration, he's making his choice.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who was clearly no longer hesitant if you consider the position he's got you in.

He's laying back on the couch with his ankles dangling off due to his height. At his face, he's managed to convince you to hover your pretty pussy over it as he works at slurping up the sweet nectar. Well, hovering was your idea that he wasn't particularly fond of.

After your horny, needy confirmation, he was swift about getting to business and continuing the previously paused makeout. In the middle of trailing wet kisses down your neck, an idea popped into his head. However, you would've never thought that "idea" would spiral into you face sitting for the first time.

Sure you'd seen it in porn, but no one actually did that— right? I mean the couple of men you've been with certainly weren't itching to eat you out like your professor was. All that stuff about men actually caring about a woman's orgasm had to just be porn and the fanfics you read late at night. Today seemed to be the day you were proven wrong though.

"Sweetheart, just sit down," he insisted while his hands were settled on your hips. He didn't want to necessarily shove you down on him, but he was so damn close to it. He didn't understand the complication: all you had to do was suffocate him with your sloppy pussy.

"B-but I might hurt you—"

"You're not going to hurt me"

"You don't know how much I weigh! Let's just do it like—!" by the unfortunate, unholy grace of god, your knee slightly slipped off the slippery leather couch and forced you down. Instantly you were worried from how hard you might've hit his nose— you'd probably die from embarrassment if he bled.

However, after slipping you immediately felt warm, hard licks through your lips as a groan vibrates against your skin. You go to lift yourself slightly and check on the man, but his fingers dig into the plush of your waist as he made a disapproving groan before it shifted into a moan once he shoved his tongue into your hole.

"F-fuck, Professor Higuruma—" you whined out on instinct, but he immediately delivered, not a harsh but firm, slap to your ass that made you jolt. He mumbled something incoherent since your vulvas were literally muffling his speech, but you could make out him just repeating his name for you to call him.

He's moving your hips entirely on his own as he drags your body up and down his face while he begins to suck on your nub and then delivered a playful nibble that had you gasping.

"Just grind baby. Yeah, yeah like that," he groans: his voice husky and clouded with pleasure as his eyes remain shut. You begin to roll your hips downwards, just slightly, so your clit could catch on the bridge of his nose.

Eventually, his hands leave your hips and instead trail themselves to wrap more around the back of your thigh and loop over to the front. From that position, he glides his hands down your navel before they reach your pussy and gently pull back the outer folds. This time, he did slit his eyes open while watching your drip all over his face and expensive leather couch.

"God, you're gorgeous," he mumbled as if to himself, "so so beautiful baby. Tell me, does your pussy get this wet for other dumb guys? Are you drenched by some pathetic frat boy trying to grind on you like a dog?"

"No-..! No! Higuruma—"

"No even that bleached one?" he then inquires and if you weren't so distracted with the way his tongue was shoved into your pussy, maybe you would've realized his reference. The guy who was in your law class and purposefully sat beside you— Higuruma noticed him long ago. Though if he noticed, that does mean he's been thinking of you.

"N-no, no one"

You maybe babbled some more things as you got lost in the pleasure, but you don't care. You feel one of his hands leave holding your pussy open and instead slip into it. Easily, his finger slides into you hole with all the natural lubrication you were producing.

"Mhm, tell me about it," he mutters when you moan over his finger curling just right. "Making you feel so good, huh? Should've let me take care of you hours ago. Poor baby probably hasn't even been paying attention— just fantasizing about this pussy being stuffed"

His lewd words almost surprise you— the put together professor, never one hair misplaced or his tie not properly tucked, was actually finger fucking you while licking up the mess you made?

"R-right there! There!" whining out repetitively as you feel yourself approaching your climax. "Higuruma right there please"

You words sound like the prettiest melody Higuruma ever had the pleasure to listen to. He felt his cock aching and he was tempted to trail a hand down to squeeze it— wanting to relieve some tension. Though, he tried to just stay focused on you and not how he throbbed every time you whined his name.

"I hear you," he groans while redoubling his efforts by flicking his tongue against your clit and even tracing figure 8's. "Sound so pretty sweetheart. Let me hear you when you cum"

One of your hand latches onto the front of his hair while you yanked at the roots subconsciously and leaned forward; placing a hand on the arm rest of the couch as your thighs trembled.

You're coming undone over his face as whines, moans, and high pitched groans escape your bruised lips, from all the earlier kissing, and fill the other wise silent atmosphere. Higuruma helps you ride your orgasm by soft suckles to your clit, then eventually eases off once you let go of his hair.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who softly guided you off his face to instead slide down his chest and into his lap. He didn't bother wiping the slick that covered his nose as he sat up, which forced you to sit more over the pronounced bulge in his slacks. Your clit catches the fabric just right as you felt his warm, heavy cock under you and it almost made you whine and start rutting into him. He just quietly appreciated how your weight felt settled over his dick as he rolled his hips up once, but paused when you gasped— overstimulated.

He did let his thumb dip to the side of his lips and push whatever slick he could find back onto his tongue.

"You taste so good," he mumbled while leaning to press a kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him as his hand cradled your face softly.

Unsurprisingly, you were quick to make a "returning the favor" joke as your hips followed their natural instinct to rock on his lap.

¡Law Professor Higuruma! who never in his life thought he'd be sneaking around with a student. Though, he couldn't deny the excitement that coursed through his body whenever he saw you show up to class every day and sit front row.

Frequent visits to his penthouse apartment, car, school office, and whatever somewhat 'classy,' quiet space we could find.

At first he beat himself up about it. Him sleeping with his much younger student like some weirdo professor that needs to grow the fuck up? It truly made him almost spiral for the first few days.

As your moans became imprinted in his memory and the way you'd tear up right as you came— only to slap a hand over your mouth— became all he could think about.

How soft and warm your walls felt the first time he was pushing into you as you laid in his bed. How his hand trailed to your clit to rub small circles as you adjusted to his size and girth. How it felt when he was able to lean down and wrap his arms around your upper back and cradle the back of your head, then begin just pistoling his hips into you while chasing his orgasm.

Soon this affair drifted from one week into several, then into months. Higuruma kept it hidden from others in his life, but he never wanted you to feel bad for the arrangement. So, he'd still take you on dates to expensive restaurants he knew no college student could afford; therefore, someone wouldn't see the two of you together. Or he'd drive you to the expensive outdoor mall on the other side of town that had designer brands and insist on you 'picking something pretty' out.

Overall, your sex life was more than satisfied and your grade in his class returned to an A+. Though that wasn't because he adjusted them due to you sleeping with him— that's a line he'd never cross. He had to maintain some dignity. Instead, it was through him helping you with concepts and always being free to answer questions about material in class.

He cared for his sweetheart, so even when one time you pulled off of sucking his dick to ask about the Erie doctrine, he'd just begin explaining it like he was lecturing. Totally not getting distracted by how you looked on his knees, so eager to lap up any precum trailing down his thick length.

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A/N: thinking of making this a series with different JJK characters as professors

𑣲║ ¡Satoru with glasses! x ¡Reader!

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: suggestive language, leading up to ¡fem! oral sex

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Satoru had a recent habit of wearing glasses whenever he was in private and could relax in the comfort of his, or your, own home. Due to his cursed technique, his eyes were typically strained which use to result in tension headaches that seemed to not disappear for hours on end.

However, after purchasing his first real pair of glasses, not the shitty sunglasses he wore as a pretentious teen, those headaches gradually decreased. He stopped getting tension headaches and having to lay down for long periods of time with curtains closed and praying he wouldn't get a migraine. He no longer had to squint to see the TV in the living room when cooking in the kitchen after a long day at work.

Overall, his pain and strain decreased! However, the same cannot be said for your libido.

There was just something so delicious in the way he'd push the glasses up with his index finger whenever they slipped too low on his nose.

How whenever the glasses got smudged he'd carefully take them off and grab the hem of his shirt, a thin sliver of his abdomen exposed where you could see the white happy trail, and clean the lens.

The way he looked when he first woke up in the morning— hair every which way and his chest exposed since he insisted on being "one with nature" by only wearing boxers to sleep. He'd just lean over to the bed side table and slide the glasses on, blinking a few times before sitting up and scooting to your side to give his usual kiss attack to the crook of your neck so you'd wake up.

Whenever he kissed you and it turned into a full makeout sesh, he'd pull back for a moment while a breathy laugh escapes. Just mumbling a small, "don't wanna have this barrier!" Then, he'd dive back into the kiss while his hands traveled to your waist and pulled you closer.

Needless to say, you were ecstatic over your boyfriends decisions. Though you obviously can't just say that— is that even a thing? Getting turned on by glasses? Sure, Satoru would be over the moon and his ego would probably triple at knowing you get horny over his new accessory. Hell, he'd probably purchase more with different rims so you can see which one you like. You can already hear him.

"So, this is the rectangle shape," he'd say while forcing you to sit down with him on the couch like he's modeling a fashion show. "I mean, I'm not so sure if it fits my face shape," since when the hell did he care about that, "but if this is the one that gets you all heated then I'll take them"

You wanted to roll your eyes at the imaginary scenario; just cutting a glare to Satoru who was entirely oblivious about your thoughts running wild as he lounged on the couch.

However, your great determination to keep this little infatuation from Satoru comes crashing down one night.

Like usual, your simple kiss before bed with Satoru had him going overboard as he slowly leaned further onto your side of the bed— negating your personal space or the "invisible line" you created. It's great to cuddle with Satoru, but he's practically a living heater! Anyone who's ever woken up sweating with a stupidly tall man draped across them would understand your reluctance to spooning.

He broke the kiss and began trailing quick, sloppy kisses down your neck as he maneuvered himself to hover over your form as you relaxed into the pillows. Every time he'd playfully nibble at your skin on his journey down your body, a tiny gasp would escape your lips. Each time he heard the small noise, you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

"Your lotion doesn't taste bad," he muffled against your abdomen after he lifted your shirt and trailed his tongue from the waistband of your pajama bottoms up your navel. You'd taken your nightly shower right before lying down for bed, so it also consisted of lathering your body in a sweet smelling shea lotion. "I feel like a dog lapping it up though," he pulls away from your skin as he gazes up at you through his lens.

"Negative points on the dirty talk"

"I'm just shy baby. Let me warm up"

You open your mouth for another witty reply, but he's already trying to peel off your pajama bottoms. Eagerly, you lift your hips just enough so he can slide off the pants, but leaves your panties. Of course he does. The man likes to tease and will practically have you soaking the cotton fabric before he slides them down your thighs.

"Satoru.." you whined while wiggling your hips. His eyes snap up to yours for a moment as a teasing smirk graces his lips. "It's already late and you've got that thing tomorrow. I don't know if I'll have enough energy if you take 10 years to do this."

Though, the man just drags the waist band of your panties down slightly, but not enough to expose anything. He hums against your lower navel as he peppers kisses around the bare skin. Clearly, your boyfriend doesn't mind the notion that you won't have the energy to go down on him if he takes his time. He'll get more than enough pleasure just by eating you out properly— it's been, what? A week since he did it last? He's surprised he hasn't developed tremors from withdrawal yet.

"Just lean back sweetheart and enjoy the show"

He continues to just suck and kiss all over your lower stomach before gently lifting your thigh over his shoulder so he can pay attention to the neglect region. Your eyes stay locked on his form as his eyes were closed in bliss; white lashes pressed against his rosy cheeks. His breathing gets subtly harder as he lolled his tongue out while dragging it up your inner thigh.

You could see how his glasses were getting foggy from how he encased his head between your thighs and was practically huffing your skin. Mindlessly, your hand finds its way into his milky locks and curls into the strands until he feels a small burn in his scalp that makes him moan— damn masochist.

He's smiling as his heavy eyelids open and he makes eye contact as his tongue finally laps over your covered pussy. His tongue pressing into the cotton until a wet mark is formed from his lips latching onto where he knew your clit was. He's studied your pussy enough times to have memorized the entire anatomy of it.

His fingertips slowly curl over the elastic that wraps around your hips as he begins to tug it down, but quickly stops when he realizes something.

"Heh, forgot to take off my glasses"

In an instant, he's leaving your soaking heat to sit up slightly and pluck the glasses off his pretty face. Acting swift, your hand lurches forward to catch his wrist and stop him.

"W-wait.. I-.. don't wanna wait. They're fine," the lie rolling off your tongue easily as you stared at his surprised expression from how quick you intervened.

"It'll be easier with them off. I want to make sure I can get all the good angles." His hand beings to travel back to his face despite your loose grip around his wrist.

"It's fine! Just lay back down"

"Why do you care so much?" he finally questions while staring at you. He hadn't seen you behave like this since the time he came home from a workout and said he needed to shower first before the two of you crawled into bed. However, you just kept saying you didn't care and needed him right then.

"I-I just don't like wasting time—"

"Ohhh," he drawls, "you like the glasses, don't you sweetheart?"

"Huh? Satoru don't be dumb—"

"No you totally do! It make sense why you stare at me whenever I wear them! At first I thought you were just getting use to it, but now that I know it makes you all hot and bothered.."

"It does not"

At this point you're sitting up and closing your legs a bit. Your cheeks are flushed pink and you feel embarrassment creeping in; as if you got caught in some perverted act.

"Come on babe. I think that's hot," he's slotting a hand between your thighs while not looking away from your face. He's scooting back in so his body was in the way of you closing your thighs as his hand plants itself on your inner one. "Just admit it! No shame in your game— I mean when I picture you in some mini skirt I also almost bust a nut"

"I really didn't need to know that"

"But it's true! This is a safe space, just admit it. She gets all messy and sloppy just from seeing my specs"

"...it's unfortunate you've worded it that way," you mumbled as you recoiled at how easily his filthy words slipped out. His eyes looked like he was beaming and professing his love; meanwhile he was personifying your pussy into a "her."

"You're not denying it"

Hand on your thigh sliding to your hip, he's slowly pulling you back down as he leans his body down once more. You can see the muscles on his back contort as he goes back to laying on his stomach in front of you. His attempt to take the glasses off and keep them from potentially getting crushed were thrown out the window.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of what I did like the sweet boyfriend I am." Fingertips curl back under the elastic and this time it's slipping down your hips and under your ass. The cold air in the bedroom immediately hits your sensitive clit and makes you gasp softly, but his mouth is quick to attatch itself and give soothing suckles before pulling back— not before pressing a firm kiss to the bud. You whimpered softly as your hips twitched to buck themselves up to him, but you quickly restrained.

"I know sweetie, I know," his whispered in a low voice as his eyes didn't tear away from the way your slick slowly ran down your thigh. "I'll help you, just keep looking at me."

Your eyes flicker down and just see the way the glasses fell down the slope of his nose again, but he was too preoccupied to care. If anything, he leans back down to flick his wet tongue over your weeping hole and just uses that opportunity to nuzzle his face into your thigh and push them back into their proper position.

Overall, this experienced proved to you that you understand your boyfriend. For the next several days, Satoru was on your ass about showing off the glasses and always trying to initiate sex time when you got home by wearing them like they're irresistible lingerie. His ego had tripped in size like it was the damn grinches heart— just like you said it would.

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𑣲║ Strawberry Parfaits with Satoru

𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊

Warnings: suggestive language, satoru being a perv, m masturbation

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You paced around the kitchen gathering cool whip, cream cheese, and other varying ingredients necessary for you to make your 'work of art.' Well, that's at least what your husband, Satoru, calls it.

Every time the temperature rises enough, your husband starts eyeing the strawberries in the fruit aisle and dropping comments on how much he needs a sweet treat. Eventually, you give in and purchase components needed to make strawberry parfaits; all while Satoru is bouncing on his heels and excitedly swiping his card at the checkout.

You carefully chop up the strawberries while adding it to the bowl containing a sugary jam mixture. You'd waken up early to do this— just a little treat for Satoru. He'd been working later as of lately and you knew he must be exhausted most days, but he still always came home ready to shower you in kisses.

In return, you've finally decided to make his favorite sweet treat in the summer time.

You hear his unmistakable footsteps trail out of your shared bedroom and you don't even bother glancing over your shoulder. Quickly, you feel his presence right behind you as he lightly presses his chest against your back and drops his head into the crook of your neck. His hands come to run across your hips to your stomach; finally just hugging you tiredly.

"I was gonna complain about you not being there when I woke up, but I suppose it's fine since you're making these," Satoru's voice was muffled into your shoulder as you felt his lips move against your skin.

"So glad you find my compensation adequate," you sarcastically remark while putting a handful of quartered strawberries into the metal bowl. "You can go lay down. I'd rather these chill before you eat them, and, you know, you probably shouldn't have parfaits for breakfast."

"Blah blah blah. No difference between this and pancakes."

"Well you're technically not supposed to have those either—"

"That's what they want you to think"

"Satoru, who's they?"

You felt your husband shrug, then place a kiss on your shoulder. His hands slowly remove themselves from your waist, so you knew he'd be following your advice.

"Dunno? Pharmaceutical companies, billionaires, that woman who's on the Sunday mornings cooking show who wrote the Dieting for Dummies—"

"Good lord," you interrupt. "I'm just going to add Ambien to the cool whip if you don't just lay down."

With the cackle you know and love, your husband retreated from your side, but just headed to the bar stool to sit and watch you. He propped his arm up on the counter and let his head rest in the palm of his hand. The two of you discussed various nonessential topics as you layered the crushed gram crackers, cool whip and cream cheese, and strawberry layers perfectly.

You talked about whatever cute restaurant you saw covered in the weekly newspaper and how you believed it'd be a good date spot. Then, you'd jump to discussing whatever show you've been watching for the past couple of nights and giving him a not so brief summary so he could watch it with you later.

During the whole time, Satoru's eyes didn't come off of you. He watched as you carefully stacked all the components and ensured it looked pretty with the gram crackers sprinkled on top.

Though, his attention was most specifically drawn to how some of the cool whip mixture would almost fall from the scooping spoon, but you quickly caught it with your pointer finger.

Shamelessly, you'd quickly lap up the content without so much as a second thought. You knew your husband wasn't afraid of cooties, and it's not like you were really even touching the ingredients.

Meanwhile, Satoru stared— enamored. The truth was, Satoru's continuous request for strawberry parfaits weren't all fueled by your skills. Don't get him wrong, they were phenomenal and he could eat about five every day and never get tired. Though, he also found himself goggling at you whenever you'd make them.

Maybe, just maybe, Satoru was a bit of a pervert about it. Can you blame him though? The scene always felt lewd as you'd lick up the white, cool whip content or quickly suck it off your finger— his mind flying to other scenarios.

You never did pick up on it though. Sure, you'd notice him staring at you, but Satoru stares at you whenever he gets the chance so it was nothing alarming. You always assumed he was just real excited about the sweet treat.

Satoru almost felt guilty for how much it turned him on— both your obliviousness and unknowingly seductive actions. How he'd excuse himself with some bullshit like taking his morning shower or making the bed; in actuality, he just had to rub one out real quick before he pounced on you at 8am.

He'd hide away in the bathroom, like he wasn't your literal husband, and muffle his groans with his palm as his hand ran up and down his length. He'd close his eyes and imagine you were licking his dick the same way you licked your finger. Your tongue lapping up the sugary mixture just like it'd lap up his cum whenever you gave him a blow job.

He'd rub his thumb over the slit on the tip of his dick just like you did— purposefully edging himself. He'd try to just lean over the bathroom counter with one hand on the marble counter top and the other working his erection. Sometimes, he could still smell the lingering scent of your perfume you prayed that morning or catch a glimpse of the makeup bag you hadn't yet put up and it turned him on more.

It could literally just be the sight of whatever blush you use and suddenly Satoru is bitting on the palm of his hand, eyes closed, and he's moving to lean against the wall instead so his legs will stop trembling. It could all just be too much for him to handle at once.

When he closed his eyes, he'd just see your face on repeat. The way you licked the cool whip, how you looked at him, how you laughed, the way he could still hear your soft humming in the kitchen.

Finally, the image of how you look quivering beneath him flashes through his mind. Reminding himself on how your nails feel dragging down his back and how pretty your voice sounds when he's deep inside you. The mannerism he memorized that you'd preform right before your orgasm washed over you— gasping and hands pushing at his hips to make him stay inside.

He'd cum with a last stroke; letting the pearly white substance decorate his hand and getting some on the counter top he'd have to clean. A choked moan would escape his pink lips before he'd quiet himself as his hips pathetically thrusted forward subconsciously.

Chest heaving from the climax, his shaky hand slowly went to the faucet to clean off his dirty hand. Around that time, he's hear your sweet voice calling out: "Satoru, it's done!"

He'd let out a shaky exhale while closing his eyes hard and then opening them; trying to calm down quickly.

"O-okay baby, I'm coming—" he froze at his wording, then realized it was only ironic to him. "I'll be out soon!"

Happily, you set out two strawberry parfaits for the both of you while setting the rest in the fridge. You smiled at seeing the beautiful creation, and you just knew Satoru would love it. What you didn't know was how he was swiftly cleaning off his load from the counter tops before stuffing his half limp dick in his pants.

Surely, the thing would be hard again when he saw the way you'd, almost shyly, say, "do you mind if I like the spoon?"

To which he'd laugh slightly, sarcastically remarking "of course I'd mind! Not like I kiss you or anything— who knows where that mouth has been."

You'd giggle, then proceed to promptly clean off the silverware. All while Satoru's eyes were fixed on your mouth and how your tongue darted out between your lips delectably.