#daisukedishwarexreader

synopsis: Daisuke has a great love for dish-ware. But that love is no greater than the most beautiful piece he has. You. And he intends to prove that.

a/n: Agano-Yaki-A certain type of Japanese ceramic in the prefecture of Fukuoka that began in the Edo period that is often used for tea ware.

The name comes from where it was first created, in the Agano hillsides of Korea. The most common enamel used oxidises into a beautiful array of blue and blueish greens.

pairing: Daisuke Dish-ware x Female!Reader

tags: Smut, Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Reader Insert, No Use of Y/N

word count: 2.4k

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You walk in on him once again, holding a particular piece of delicate dishware and studying it in the kitchen. Your eyes can’t help but glance at the way his fingers are holding it, how graceful yet masculine they are. How he could be intent when need be, how he could be rough and firm yet switch to delicate with ease. Or maybe you just really had a thing for his hands.

He studied the curves of the bowl with his hands, his fingers tracing the rim. As if each one was his own kin, as if he crafted it himself and moulded them to his very own liking. It brings a gentle smile to your face, you can’t help but find it a little cute that even after being realised, the love for the craft of dishware still remains. Especially handmade ones.

You walk closer and put both of your hands on his shoulders, which makes him turn around with a slightly surprised expression that melts into one of subtle yet intense love.

“Are you in one of your smouldering moods again?” You teases gently, in which he returns a soft chuckle. A sound that makes your heart warm like clay in a kiln. Your thumbs rub his shoulders gently, in similar fashion to smoothing out the edge of a piece of pottery.

He was holding a beautiful glazed bowl, one with a sea of denim like colours of blue and slight sage green. It reminded you of him, calm like a gentle wave yet alluring with his subtle shifts in hues and moods-like the palette of the piece.

“Perhaps I am, my love. This bowl that I had bought earlier is particularly bewitching. Almost like a certain someone I know.” He muses, being obvious with his appreciation of your features in his gaze. He thinks you're the greatest china of all. Molded to perfection.

Without a single crack or indent.

That beckons a soft laugh from you, something he also loved deeply. He took in your quaint appearance of a flowing dress that he thought looked akin to a jellyfish.

Even though it hid your shape, it could not hide your silhouette that was peeking through. Your curves, like one of a shapely vase. Or a fancy glass.

“Am I really as beautiful as the bowl you’re holding?” You murmured bashfully with a hint of amusement in your voice.

His eyebrows furrow, as if he couldn’t possibly believe you would ask such a question. Even if it was in a joking manner. Was the endless sweet nothings in your ear not enough? The whispers in nights of endless pleasure inadequate? Maybe that was partly on him, as perhaps he wasn’t as bountiful with his words of praise this week as he was last week. But now he knew exactly how to rectify that.

“I think now is a great time to prove my point, don’t you agree?” His voice takes a lower tone, his hand coming back to caress your knuckles back and forth. He then turns around so he’s facing you, his forefinger placed under your chin as he leans in.

A flicker of desirous embers start to emerge in his eyes. “Though…I do not think words shall suffice for you to be properly convinced.”

You peer at him slightly through your curled lashes, giving him a look of anticipation. You wondered what exactly he had in mind, whether it be a simple peck or…a bit more. Your inquiries soon enough get answered as he comes closer for a gentlemanly kiss, giving you permission to give another if you do please. But a part of him also likes to see how needy you can get, and you get so needy. It’s very arousing to him.

You close your eyes and kiss him back, intimately yet so passionate. You’re getting greedy already, you have no need to ease in for your want is clear. Always. You always want his soft and warm lips. He returns the kiss back, tilting his head to the side as he nudges into each press to your tender lips. As if you guys were connected by soul through your lips, you both hum at the same time as it turns into a steady make out.

“Mhn…” He murmurs as his hands rub down your sides down to your supple waist, to mould his favourite piece of pottery. You. He gives your hips a firm squeeze, you feel like the best clay that money could buy. You just melt perfectly to his touch in any form he wishes.

You come closer as your arms loop around his broad shoulders, he brings you the stability you lacked before he met him. The once calm kitchen is now filled with sounds of both your lips smacking together, the fondling getting a little needier.

“I think I need more convincing…Please…” You whisper into his mouth, in that familiar needy tone. And he’s ready to oblige, he almost wants to smile but he’s way too focused on what he needs to do.

All of a sudden, he moves you by the hips so he’s behind you and his chest is pressing against your back. The same glazed bowl that started all of this is staring at you right in the face, as your hands rest on the kitchen counter.

“…Right here, my love? What about the bowl you just bought?” You stutter, as you’re a bit distracted by the fact he’s kissing down the curve of your back. His hands go under your light and fluffy dress, travelling up the back of your thighs. You gasp ever so softly. You didn’t want something precious of his to rattle or fall off, god forbid.

“I’m afraid your predicament is far too dire for me to care much right now.” (The predicament being your wavering self esteem that is.) He replies back roughly, pulling your dress up. You’re silenced before he pulls your underwear down to your ankles.

“Arch your back.”

It’s only a few times he is so direct and to the point with his words, without any flourishes or poetic expression added to his sentences. That being when he wants to absolutely wreck you to oblivion, and wants you to do what he says so he can achieve exactly that. A man with nothing but determination and rare impatience.

You arch your back.

You also spread your legs further apart, well as best as you can with your underwear still around your ankles. Usually he would do the extra step as taking them off but he must be really in the mood to prove something.

“My favourite flower…Each fold, a soft and damp petal.” He parts you intimately, which makes your little hole twitch with embarrassment. It was one of his favourite things, to just stare at your folds. Like a pink and blushed orchid, with its sweet nectar that was ready to taste. His thumb pet your flower bud teasingly, making you softly keen for more.

“And also already enveloped in your honey it seems,” he continued, “I have barely done nothing and yet you are so ready for me my love. Ready for me to indulge in you…”

“Is that what you want?” He asks.

“Yes please…I miss the feeling of your tongue, Daisuke…” You whimper his name to show how much you need him to do it. To taste you. To lick you. To-

He rubs his nose against your soaking slit like he was smelling a lily on the field, going back and forth before placing a rather romantic kiss onto your neglected bud. He had an odd way of choosing times to be romantic. He then begins to suck in slow yet firm motions, in between circling his warm and wet tongue around your clit. You grip the kitchen counter, letting your eyebrows knit and a moan escape your lips. “Ah, Daisuke…Just like that…”

He groans into your folds, the vibrations adding an extra sensation. His hands go up to hold your asscheeks and grip them, he spreads them apart so he can lick up and down from bud to your quivering hole. He goes back to continuing the same steady motions, knowing exactly how you like it. He was always a fan of perfecting techniques. He decides to be efficient and slide two fingers inside of you, pumping in and out while his digits curl downwards to stroke your spot so you’re prepared for his aching cock.

It doesn’t take you that long to squeeze and pulsate around his fingers and climax from the working of his velvety tongue. You cry out desperately and so do your legs as they slightly tremble, your eyes fluttering for a few moments.

His mouth and tip of his nose is covered in your essence, which he licks up greedily from his lips after pulling away. “Mm, so sweet and saccharine you are…I think you should have a taste.”

He stands back up behind you and turns your face back to him with hand, giving him a deep kiss as his tongue slips in. You taste yourself on him, as your tongues mingle against each other. And indeed the taste on his tongue was sweet, but you weren't sure if that was more from him instead of you. His thumb grazes your bottom lip, to open it while he puts the fingers he put inside of your wet heat into your mouth. You lick around his two fingers while he watches intensely but quietly.

“And your body is sculpted like the finest pottery, with depth and great shape…No other dishware compares to that of the silky clay that is you, my love.” He purred as his hands went back under your clothing to rub his hands down your curves, up towards your hardened nipples. He tweaks them slowly, he wishes he could turn you around and give them a lick to see you writhe in pleasure. But he has to be inside of you in the next few seconds or he might explode like moist pottery in a searing kiln.

He holds your chin with his forefinger on thumb to keep you looking back at him, while his other hand takes his hardened cock to slide inside of you. It’s so warm and hot inside, why need a fireplace when he has your tight walls to regulate his temperature. You moan softly, glad to not be empty anymore and completely filled. “Mn..And your warmth is like the heat of a blazing fire, your walls are one like a hot blanket, my love…”

His other hand moves from his cock to wrap around your stomach, as he begins to piston his hips into you slowly yet so deep. You keep staring into his dark eyes as you moan raggedly, like the air is being driven out of you. The bowl on the counter trembles a little. His eyes never waver as he watches every single expression on your face. The crease between your eyebrows. The pleading in your eyes. The way you’re going dazed with pleasure. Not even the most beautiful dishware he owns stands a chance against you.

“Oh my god…Daisuke…” You keened, trying to keep your eyes open. As you know he always got off on heavy eye contact.

“Never doubt the beauty you possess…I want you to say it for me…” He grunts out, increasing his pace and holding you tighter to keep you in place. Like you would even dare to run away from how great this feels. His tip repeatedly bullying your weak spot again and again with absolute precision, your back arches even more. At this point you’ll say anything he wants.

“I…I won’t, Daisuke…I promise…” You whimper wholeheartedly, your eyes fluttering shut as you turn your head back to the front. He places his chin on your shoulders and wraps both arms around your stomach, being able to really give you those hard strokes you love. He squeezes his eyes shut too for a few moments as he nips your earlobe.

“That’s my girl…Never, hah, doubt the beauty I see in you…” He grunts even louder as your walls give him a right squeeze, sucking him in like a whirlpool. You feel so exquisite. He can feel you getting close, as you sound more desperate and pained with nothing but bliss.

“Ah…Let me feel your sweet dew surround me, my love…” He pleads, going a little bit faster. He was ever the gentleman, watching you cum was his favourite view. He opens his eyes, watching your face of ecstasy as you bite your bottom lip. “Let me feel it, my dear…”

“I, mmn, yearn for your release…Please let me have it…” He pleads desperately, knowing he’s about to obliterate your walls with his essence, like a thick enamel glaze. You grab one of his hands from your stomach and intertwine with them on the counter, gripping his hand as you finally let go. You gasp out loudly, trying to find your breath but you can’t. He’s taken it. You almost don’t hear his lengthened groan, which is rougher than his usual composed voice he uses regularly. He tensed up inside of you and made sure every drop stays inside of you, as he throbs for what seems like forever.

You both ebb from the intense wave that was your combined orgasms, and you feel more connected than ever. You really needed that. Now you can rest for the rest of the afternoon, resting on his shoulder in the living room while he writes his poetry. You open your eyes and catch your breath, and he gives you a peck on the lips from behind. His hair is now slightly unkempt.

“That was quite a sight, my love. Now I shall make some tea for you using the dish I bought. You need to be hydrated after such exertion.” He offers dearly as if he wasn’t the one fucking you with great force and speed, while you just gratefully took what he gave you. And he was the one offering making you tea. If anything, he should need refreshments after what he did to you.

“Daisuke…Are you not tired?” You ask with slight wonder.

“Don’t worry. I shall make some for the both of us if you are so concerned about my energy.” He answers, with a tinge of breathiness to his voice and a gentle smile.

You chuckle softly and look back forward to the dish-ware in front of you, being only shifted out of place a bit from a certain…quaking.

But yet, completely fine and unbroken.Huh.Nice.

Maybe that symbolises something.