Chishiya X Fem!reader

❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing

✧ wc: 7,657

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!

“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara). 

“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“ 

But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue. 

You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?” 

He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing. 

You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder. 

Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were. 

He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit. 

“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle. 

“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning. 

“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,” 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“

“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,” 

And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“ 

“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,” 

And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer. 

And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,” 

…maybe he spoke too soon. 

~~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat, 

“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“ 

You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“ 

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing). 

You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—” 

“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,” 

And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt. 

His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea. 

He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through. 

Why did this feel so much worse?” 

~~~

“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara. 

Or rather he should have. 

He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—

You got it from here. 

The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—

The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.

“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,” 

You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit. 

And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now. 

Until they take his body away. 

A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“ 

“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are. 

The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“ 

“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,” 

And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret. 

And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did. 

You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”

“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger. 

What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses. 

“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—” 

“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—” 

“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—” 

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ” 

“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own. 

“No—” and your hand finds his chest. 

“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair. 

And you didn’t — he was the one who left you. 

~~~~

You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms. 

You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.

But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out. 

Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep. 

Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns. 

“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“ 

He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,” 

“You didn’t—“ 

“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”

“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?” 

He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,” 

“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“

“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Then why?” 

And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek. 

And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still. 

“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,” 

And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips. 

~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one). 

You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them. 

Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—” 

“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—” 

“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries,  had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound. 

You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”

He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo). 

“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him. 

“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?” 

And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head. 

“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—” 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,” 

And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—

But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do. 

Just as you would never ask him to stay for you. 

“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,” 

“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“ 

He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft,  “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,” 

Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“ 

“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—

But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in. 

“Kento—“ 

“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?” 

And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?” 

But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,” 

And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,” 

You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach. 

And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to. 

So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix. 

He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it. 

~~

“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,” 

How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…

And now, here was the other. 

He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—” 

“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,” 

“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,” 

You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”

A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”

And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,” 

“But—” 

“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?” 

Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”

And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?” 

The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,” 

You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,” 

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.

“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.” 

~~~

“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on 

“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful. 

“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“ 

“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—” 

And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you. 

“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—” 

“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,” 

And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal. 

But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off. 

“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” 

Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices. 

“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another — 

his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“

But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick. 

Another

“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,” 

“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter. 

His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter. 

“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you. 

Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release. 

And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum. 

“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust. 

“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“ 

He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest. 

You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—

Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips. 

And he knew that he was certainly made for you. 

“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?” 

And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside. 

You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again. 

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.” 

~~~

It was over. 

That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s. 

He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them. 

The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you. 

And a beach in Malaysia. 

“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing. 

And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of. 

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,” 

Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse. 

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile. 

And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at— 

“Itadori,” Mahito says. 

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel. 

But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop? 

Could he finally stop? 

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him. 

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left. 

But he couldn’t regret it now. 

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“ 

And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him. 

It was you. 

You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name. 

“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“ 

“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“ 

“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“ 

“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black. 

It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after. 

Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house. 

“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks. 

You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?” 

His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“ 

You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“ 

“But—“ 

“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head. 

“It’s not—“ 

“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle. 

“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“ 

“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,” 

“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?” 

His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.” 

~~~

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“ 

“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck. 

“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?” 

“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,” 

“It’s really not that bad—” 

“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by. 

“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder. 

“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,” 

And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him— 

Always. 

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3

✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo

Such A Sweetheart | Sugar Daddy! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

✎ Synopsis: you need money quick, and what's a good way of getting quick money? a sugar daddy. you find a man but he treats you so good that maybe this may blossom into something other than a transactional relationship?

✎ Notes: this is a longgggg one, i decided to try making a long one and writing this up at work every day for weeks was a struggle but i did it! if only sugar daddy leon was real :(

➤ WC: 10K

➤ CW: age gap, reader is in low 20's whilst leon is low 40's, talks about leon's alcohol struggles and practically his life, reader wears a dress, oral, fingering, dirty talk kinda??? not really, lots of kisses, maybe something more than a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship, p in v, cumming on you, fluff at the end.

MINORS DNI!

Leon Scott Kennedy was a dirty man. That's how he saw himself. The masses of bioweapons he killed every mission tarnished his being. There was no escape for him. Nothing could save him from what he saw fit for his life. All he could ever be was tool for the government, someone who they could rely on each time to discard the tragedies of the world. They didn't care who they affected, as long as the government were safe that's all that mattered.

Leon knew that. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the job behind was a massive no. What if something happened? What if another incident like Raccoon City occurred?

He was bound to everything of horror. Gore, blood, death. He had seen it all, he had experienced it all. The killings of his superior, Jack Krauser alongside the dumpster of death that trailed beside Leon. It was his shadow. All he could do was bare with it. Nothing could save him, until you came around.

You needed money - just being able to live was costly and jobs were going left, right and centre. No matter what you did, you couldn't grab a job. It was out of your reach. You flooded every company with applications; they were bound to have known you by now. Despite that, an interview was never handed to you. Rent was coming up and what else could you do?

Find a sugar daddy? It was your only choice so... yeah. You were going to find a sugar daddy.

Doing some research and finding out that there were multiple sites to find one. Clicking on the top site, sugardaddykwiky.com, brought you to profiles of many men. Many older men. You weren't going to be picky, there was no time to pick and choose who you wanted.

Clicking on your profile, you start to upload pictures of yourself. No explicit ones, just ones of your face and a safe for work full body image of yourself. Furthermore, to try and attract more men you type a little description about you. This would entice for men right? Soon enough, your little question was answered. Yes. Men flooded your messages, nearly all of them sending the same message of 'Hey' with a pet name in front of it. Maybe you were going to be picky, they all weren't that attractive. Extremely plain and non-lovable.

Reminding yourself that this wasn't a dating site but a site of seeking money you required, your fingers continued to scroll until a request popped up at the top of the screen.

['LSKENNEDY' wants to chat!]

Leon was shitting himself. He didn't know why or how he was so nervous but it was linked to you. You looked so sweet and innocent, no explicit images nor anything sexual of the sort. It wasn't his type of thing to see tits shoved in his face or somebodies legs spread across the camera. You were different. It was as though you weren't just selling your body to get quick cash.

Scrolling down he read your interests. His eager eyes scanning through your description once then again, and again. Continuously reading before taking a glance at the few pictures he was granted to see of you. He drank in your face, such pretty features plastered on you made his heart flutter.

If you were to take him as your sugar daddy, he made a mental promise to himself that he would take you out on countless dates. Spoil you rotten until you couldn't take it anymore. All it came down to was luck.

Leon was lonely. He was a lonely man. The thought of you brought a sliver of solace into his body. Perhaps you could distract him from chaotic life he lived in. Leon craved love not lust. A deep groan left his lips as he knocked back another glass of whiskey. The malty liquid seeping into the lines of his lips, travelling down his throat. His phone was no longer bright, it was pitch black. A reminder of how his life was.

Before Raccoon City, Leon dreamt one day he would find a love that would course though his life. A deep affection that would last for many years. Decades even. The proposal of a family was always deep in Leon's mind when he was younger. Sure, it was stored away as he didn't find himself to be fit for family life at such a young age... But he knew he would want one some day.

That suggestion slowly dissipated when he gradually got older. He still kept some of his features, that being his dirty blonde hair or his baby blue eyes. But they were permanent. His youthful skin creased and aged overtime and a stern look was etched into face. Completely juxtaposing what he looked like 20 years ago. Yet, your face lingered in his mind as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His phone still remained off as he stared into the wall in front of him. To any normal person it would have been a blank chantry coloured wall. Leon saw it differently as depictions of you clouded his head and vision.

What the fuck was going on with him?

Was this a joke? He believed it was his mind playing tricks on him due to excessive amount of alcohol he consumed. Even after chugging a glass of water to try and sober himself, he still saw you. It annoyed him but not only annoyance filled him. A sense of peace too. The two feelings juxtaposed each other, as if they were fighting to see who would win.

Leon got up, trying to distract the inner conflict he faced. Closing the curtains and sitting in a room of absolute darkness. To no avail the image of you popped up. A growl scrapped his lips as he rubbed his face. His body slouched on the couch, rolling his head back as another noise vacated from him.

He had to do something.

Smacking down the couch he sat on with his calloused hand, he yearned to find his phone. The device jumped up slightly from the force of Leon's actions - soon enough he snatched it up. His thumbpad drummed the screen twice, the light penetrating his eyes as he staggered to find the power button.

"Fucking hell.." A squinted look appeared on his face whilst he scrolled the brightness down. Leon's dull eyes pried at his device, swiping up just to see you again. Fuck. He didn't delete the tab.

You looked gorgeous. An angel in his eyes. Even though you were young and in your low 20's. His mind processed the information once again. Should he feel ashamed? Disgusted? Was he at fault for wanting something romantic with you - even if you were 2 decades younger than him? Surely not, you were of legal age and willing put yourself on the website. The underlying feeling of guilt was questionable to him.

This wasn't wrong per se. It just felt like it.

His leg quivered slightly, his calve continuously smacking the bottom of his couch. Leon's eyes peered into the screen. Why was he so nervous? Get a grip, he thought to himself. A deep sigh left his lips as minutes passed - no response from you.

Your eyes flickered on his profile, an older man of course but... God was he handsome. His blue eyes called out to you, alluring you in to look at his other features. How was a man so beautiful? Early 40's nor did his description have anything sexual. It was quite basic - the perception of secrecy interweaved in it.

Nervously, the pads of your fingers moved subconsciously. Your body scrambled into your bed. The comfort of it didn't ease your heart as you clicked [Accept Request].

Leon's fingers kept refreshing the website to see if you had accepted his request. To his surprise and pleasure, you did. His heart pounded deeply within him, his shaky movements transferred himself into the chat. The miniature profile icon of your face made him go into awe. Your face was truly hypnotic. His lips pressed against the rim of his glass, shakily holding it to his lips to a point where the glass clattered against his teeth.

Leon decided the best option was to at least start the conversation off. What could he say? Perhaps the best option would to go down the basic route, however, by now you must have had multiple men just saying the same thing over and over again. His gaze focused on his phone, his eyes practically burning through the keyboard glazing over the letters trying to figure out a way to wow you.

The constant overthinking led him to not even figuring out a message to send you as your chat-box appeared on his mobile. Frowning to himself, he thought he was pathetic to a point where he couldn't even type to you. He wasn't this nervous in real life so what was going on now? In others eyes, he had charisma even when talking to a few women... But even a simple text message to you and he was about to piss himself.

Your fingers swiftly left a message, you even felt yourself getting nervous. The other chats you faced with different men usually led to the route of using your body to please them. Or they sent their half limped dick positioned in the middle of their palm trying to turn you on. It could be that this Leon Kennedy guy would contrast them. A twinge of hope stay put in your heart to hope so.

After all, he was hot.

You: hi! :)

Leon: Hey sweetheart, how are you?

It was a basic way to start of the conversation. Pretty pathetic in Leon's eyes but he had no idea on what else he could say. A shaky breath left his lips, adjusting himself on his couch trying to get cozy. The pads of his fingers tapping impatiently on the phone case. The inkling of worry still lingered within him as his mind reminded him of your age.

Instantly, a message came through on his behalf. Leon wasted no time to read over your message, he felt like a teenage boy again.

'For Christ sake... Keep it together.'

You: i'm alright, i saw that you aren't really like those other men on here. you're not like showing your dick in your profile or something.

A low laugh erupted from Leon's lips. You did see him different and honestly good. He wasn't one for going straight into the sexual stuff. Even at his age, early 40's and all, he still craved the affection you would receive in a normal relationship. He knew the love would be dependent on the money he sent you - it was better than no love at all.

Typing back with a small smile on his face, his legs uncontrollably stood him up. He walked over to his room, the light thud following him ominously. A dim light covered his figure as he sat down on the edge of his bed, hitting send.

Leon: We'd only get into that if you want to, but I prefer us to know each other a bit more. Don't you?

To say Leon was correct was an understatement, it was like a breath of fresh air. Whilst you wouldn't mind getting in his pants, for a man to not want sex sex sex was refreshing. Yes, it was the bare minimum. Did it make you way more interested though? Absolutely.

A giddy wave of happiness spread into your veins as you kicked your legs up and down. An actual conversation! You could even feel yourself becoming slightly turned on. A little wet patch forming in the middle of your panties. God.. Was this really happening now? Getting turned on by the bare minimum a man could offer?

You: yeah, i would honestly :) it's really refreshing to see someone wanting to talk

The conversation prolonged for an hour or two, both of you understanding the boundaries that Leon and you put place to make this agreement as comfortable as possible. Nonetheless, you were happy with how he was and Leon was ecstatic to know you better. Regardless of the cost that came with it.

He believed that a person like you deserved to spoilt rotten. Just the way you acted with such grace - you were heavenly. Someone who he was happy enough to show you the wonders that money could give you. Alongside his love, but Leon was nervous. He was nervous that you wouldn't understand why he would be gone for days at a time with no response. There was no way in hell he would be able to just tell you straight up that he worked for the DSO. Let alone that he killed B.O.W's.

He pushed his thoughts aside realizing he hadn't even told you how much he would pay you for your time with him. Texting a quick message, he chewed on his bottom lip. The dull ache of it pumping, giving it a faux heartbeat. Pressing send, he groaned into his pillow. The scent of soft linen contrasted the smell of alcohol that loitered on his bedside table. His backup bottle of whiskey awaiting for him to gulp it down like usual.

Instead he resisted, not relying on the alcohol to knock him out. Leon didn't want to drink himself to sleep like usual, he wanted to chat to you a little longer.

It was hard for him to get used to the slang and language you used, back in the 90's the way of communication was way different. After a few key points of explaining he got the meaning of it all. Reminiscing on what you both were talking about moments before - he read back his last message.

Leon: So how much money do you want for your time?

A very simple question for a very simple answer. Wrong. Not in your eyes anyways. You felt bad if you requested too much, you didn't even know how much he made nor how much he had currently. This in itself was the riskiest part of the deal. Would he think you were just a gold digger? Genuine fear paced around you, he wasn't a man who you just wanted to fuck to get money from. Perhaps you were being delusional but you seriously wanted to get to know him. Even perhaps have a relationship blossom between the both of you. Or was that too much to ask for?

Being a sugar baby wasn't toilsome. Whilst you would make him happy, he would reward you with gifts, money.. deep down you even wanted some pleasure. Plausibly, you began to think that Leon would think you were some brat. Even to a point where he'd believe you were some dumb bimbo cock slut who needed cash.

Shit. You needed to reply quick.

Leon was wondering to himself if he did something wrong. Was his question too straight-forward? Too dry? He was always told he wasn't the best at texting. That his texting habits seemed as though he was uninterested at any topic he would text about. He blinked continuously at the screen, this was his first time even trying to get a sugar baby. Were you no longer interested?

He needed your attention, after getting to know you over text he longed to understand more of you. What was it you really wanted? Cash or love? Was it that you were corroded with lust and needed to get dicked down or did you want something romantic? In all honestly both options together sounded like the perfect relationship to Leon. A couple who would love each other both ways, sexually and romantically. That's how a relationship works right? In his eyes anyways.

Leon's mind was clouded with random scenarios of you and him both. He wanted to try all of them out, some less naughty than others but all of them were good in his eyes. Shopping dates getting what you wanted or his head between your thighs giving you what you needed. He felt his jeans tighten around his crotch area. Fuck. Was he really getting off to the idea of just making you happy? Leon's hand travelled down to his bulge. A light squeeze only makes it harden more - can you blame him? You were so beautiful and all he wanted was to treat you right.

A heavy groan elicited out of Leon's throat, waiting for you to respond as he tried to calm himself down. He yearned for your answer. The bouncing of the 3 dots encased around a text bubble enabled Leon to let out a sigh of relief. Taking a deep breath, he eagerly watched for the message he needed.

You: i really don't mind, i don't want to seem greedy or anything so you can choose how much to give me! :)

Shit. How sweet could a girl be? Not only did you agree to be his sugar baby but you didn't mind how much he would pay you for your time? Leon's throat was dry as he took in another breath, trying to calm the bundle of nerves rising inside of his body. His fingers lightly tapped the glass screen in front of him, juxtaposing his thudding heart.

Being a government agent, despite all the trauma from his missions and the devastating events such as in Spain or in China. It gives a hefty sum of money. With the title of 'Government Agent' hung over him, he could afford to spend thousands on you. And he would.

Leon: Don't worry love, how about $1000 for our first meet up? Plus I'll get you whatever you want after a nice lunch. How does that sound?

$1000?! That was basically your rent done minus some utility bills. For one day? Not even a day, a few hours! That was more than what any job paid you for 2 weeks. Shuffling to lay comfortable in your bed, your fingers uncontrollably type a message to Leon showing your thanks to his generosity.

You: $1000?? you really don't have to give me that much but if you do then i really appreciate it! when are you next free?

A small smile appeared on Leon's lips as he read your text back, his body slightly shook from excitement as his eyes traced over your message. He was free most of the time... Well, when he wasn't fighting for his life that is. Leon's missions were quite sporadic at times, not allowing him to have a proper work schedule. In this situation, it was an annoying thing to explain - nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to tell you about it just yet.

His job was risky. Risky business that he didn't want to get you involved in.

Something always hung above Leon's head. Never one in his life after 1998 did he get any peace of mind. It was pure torture to live sometimes. A straight bullet in the head would have ended everything for him. Within Leon, there was a feeling of perseverance He wasn't allowed to die. Who else could kill the bioweapons and destructive beings that tormented the planet? If only he didn't sign up to go to Raccoon City. That fateful night changed his whole perspective on life. A renewed thought process that could kill the normal human. He himself didn't understand how he could cope. The only answer to him was alcohol, day and night. Bottles stashed in places to feed into his intoxicated addiction.

It saved him; it killed him.

You could perhaps cure the chaos and wreck that occurred in his mind. He was fixated on you. Purely you. He would guide you through the sugar baby life, hand you anything you wanted. Just for your love. Whether or not it was real love, Leon didn't seem to mind. Well - not on the surface at least.

Alone in his apartment, slowly becoming uncomfortable with the solitude that laid next to him. He typed out a message, hoping to see you tomorrow. Next week at the latest. Leon needed a change from his mundane life. Only you could expedite a change within his character.

You were the answer.

Leon: I'm free tomorrow, I can pick you up at noon.

Trailing over the message, you couldn't wait to see him. The whole purpose of tonight was to find a sugar daddy, you got one but he seemed different. Separate from the other lustful men you met on this site. In fact he was different from any man you have ever met. The long hours of the night that you usually had was replaced with a conversation that uplifted your mood and your bank.

Nimble fingers tapped on the keyboard, the phone screen lighting up your face - highlighting the little upturned expression you had plastered on. Impatient to see Leon, you send a fast response back. Demonstrating your need to meet him.

You: okay! i'll see you then, goodnight <3

Feeling happy in your heart, it seemed as though he filled a little hole in your heart. As well as the dissipating view of constant stress you had thinking about your rent due for the month. Things finally started lifting up for you. Maybe now you wouldn't think that you were going to develop wrinkles and grey hairs at such an early age. Being a sugar baby didn't seem all that bad. Flourishing at such a young age without the worry of lack of money seemed good in your books. Granted that others may think lowly of you, who were you to care about someone else's opinion when you prosper in the generosity that Leon was going to bring to you.

A impending thought built within you. This was morally right... right? Taking a lonely mans money didn't really feel like the best idea especially when reading back on the conversation you realized he wasn't some sex freak. He just craved to love and be loved. Were you able to bring him that satisfaction?

A soft smile appeared on Leon's face as he read your message, tomorrow he would be able to meet you. See that pretty face that he's been thirsting to look at for the past few hours of chatting. His fingers constantly tapping on the mini picture next to your chats to zoom into your face. He couldn't get enough of you. His mind purely fixated on you and only you. Was this a curse or a blessing?

Once switching off his phone, he again sat in isolation. Dejection spread all over him as a deep sigh scraped his throat. Why was he always so alone? Even laying in bed for an hour never made it warm, his side cold and the empty space next to him was practically frozen. Leon was going through a rough patch in his life - this patch being 20 years was excessive but he honestly couldn't get out of it. Chained down to his own solitude and remoteness of his home was too much.

Too much for a singular man who just wanted a family of his own one day.

Laying in his own self loathing, Leon breaths slowly mellowed. Keeping himself calm, taking his mind off you slightly - attempting to sleep. To no avail, he still couldn't tranquil his racing heart. A shaky breath soon followed as he crumbled into the soft sheets he bought for himself. Rich and silky cloth immersed his silhouette, his hand over his chest. Leon could feel his heart. Pumping and pumping, the skittish irregular heart embodied his attitude to the situation at hand. Fluttering his eyelids shut, the scenarios of you and him started all over again. Just this time, they felt more real. You were within his reach as his mind continue to run with excitement, love and pure unadulterated desire.

That night, he didn't have a nightmare. No horror; no fear. There wasn't a dream per se, it was just a night of sleep.

Leon's face wasn't twisted with a frown, his lips were slightly parted. Slowly drying as he huffed out a few breaths in his sleep. Dirty blonde locks covering his eyes as a peaceful expression smothered him. The recurring night terrors of Raccoon City didn't appear tonight. Nightmarish prospects didn't shine through his soundless mind to haunt him. The zombies? Gone. The blood? Gone. All remained was a man who just deserved tranquility.

Tonight, he got what he was entitled to.

The blinding sun peeked through Leon's blinds, his body thanked him for the rest. No aching muscles like usual, he leisurely pried his eyes open, a quiet yawn eliciting out of his mouth. God, how late was it? Leon stretched his body whilst he adjusted himself to the light shining through, practically blinding him at first. His fingers tapped against the smooth wood nightstand as he searched for his phone wearily. Clasping his hand around the device he held it to his chest, switching it on to check the time. The bold numbers spoke to him, highlighting 09:30 AM.

Groaning to himself, he got up rubbing his eyes tiredly. Leon got a full nights rest. Unusual but needed a small smile laced his face as he realized what he had to do today. He was going to see you for the first time.

Swinging his legs out of bed, cracking a few places in his bed. A sigh of relief left his lips. Getting up was always the hardest part of his day but today it was the easiest knowing he was looking forward to something which wasn't work related. This time, it was to seek your love, to treat you to whatever you wanted - he was happy to do that. Overjoyed even.

For you it was no different, well except your rapid heartbeat when you realized that this was real. That you were going to see your sugar daddy. Could you even call him that right now? You had to ensure that you looked your greatest for today, it was the least you could do as this man was literally paying you for being there.

Doing your casual routine was normal as usual, your fingers just a little bit shaky from the nerves that coursed through your veins. Hindering your movements slightly as you felt yourself get jumpier by the second. Going through your closet, you choose something you don't really seem to wear often. A dress. A flowy one, he'd like that right? Taking a wild guess and praying to whoever is above you threw it on and fixed up your hair. Midway through, the mobile device on the counter buzzed, catching your attention.

Rinsing and drying your hands, you snatched the phone up and inspected the notification that stood out to you. It was him. You felt your body heating up, your eyes tracing the message.

Leon: I'm outside sweetheart, hope you sent me the right address. :)

Fuck. Outside already? You retract that statement as you swiped down to check the time. Oh. It was already noon. Checking yourself in the mirror, your legs rush downstairs as you put on a pair of heels. You had psych yourself up to even see him. Looking through the little peephole, you saw him.

He was just as handsome as he was online. Even more so in real life. Your heart was pounding, he could probably hear it across the door. Tremulously, your fingers wrapped around your door handle, slightly pushing it down to open the door. Fuck, you got this. It was only a date, and all you had to do was act normal. Normal and sweet. Leon picked you for a reason!

The moment he saw you, his breath hitched. He nearly choked with the air that stood in his throat, his eyes travelling down your figure with the dress that hugged your curves but still flowed with the slight current hitting your body. Leon couldn't believe it, seeing you was heaven right in front of him. A sense of desire permeated his body, longing to touch you. To make you his - he had to stay put. For his own sake.

"Wow, uh hi." A mumble left Leon's throat soon after he cleared it. Nervous couldn't even elucidate his very being after being blessed to even look at you. It wasn't only him with a stomach full of knots wondering if this day was going to turn south.

"Hey, you look... good?" You chuckled out awkwardly. Great start. Embarrassed within yourself, you try and think of something else to say but Leon's words cut through your thoughts. His voice is smooth and rich, like honey, a slight rasp laced in the tone which allures you in.

"Thank you sweetheart, you look beautiful." Too beautiful. His hands slightly twitched, a hunger in Leon wanting to ravish you as his eyes inadvertently trailed down your figure again. Heat bloomed in both of you, eyes practically fucking each other but who was going to act first?

Taking you to his car, Leon's hand glided over the passenger door handle, opening it up for you. A small smile plastered on his lips as his gravelly voice welcomed you in. The leather feel of the car seat hugged your body, adjusting yourself to strap yourself in. Leon soon entered after as he pulled the seatbelt over himself - turning on the ignition at the same time. A comfortable silence hung in the air as the vehicle took you to where Leon wanted to treat you. One hand on the wheel and the other clasping the gearshift to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Do you want lunch first or do you want to go shopping?" His voice sliced through the tranquility that once lay around you both. Oh wow, so he was serious on treating you? Fiddling with your thumbs you wondered to yourself how you should answer him. Your stomach answered for you very quietly as you looked out the window.

"Lunch, if that's okay?" Your response back made Leon smile as he took a swift turn left, rolling into a small family owned diner. The aesthetically pleasing restaurant enticed you as he guided you inside. Opening the door for you and making the cliché comment 'Ladies first.' The place itself was cozy and warm, a welcoming aura embedded within it as you sat down at one of the booths. Leon, sat across from you, couldn't help but flicker his gaze on you every once in a while as you looked on the menu.

"Found anything you like?" He asked as he flipped through the menu himself, eyeing on the steak pictured in the booklet. His blue eyes soon bored into yours when you met his gaze. A soft smile resting on your face.

"Yeah, I think I know what I want." The softness of your voice was a melody to Leon. A voice that could calm him down even when he felt so nervous just seeing you. A channel of peace that he needed, a tune that could calm him even through the horrors that he faced.

Lunch went smoothly, the chatter amongst you two eased out into a blossoming relationship. Far better than just texting over two measly devices. Leon's gaze wondered over you as you spoke, completely in awe as he thanked himself for going on the website yesterday night. Your beauty surpassed all beings, inside and out you were gorgeous in his eyes. The interests you both shared in music tastes, hobbies and whatnot brought you both together. As if there was chemistry between you two, that idea that you already knew each other so well. You didn't just seem like a sugar baby in his eyes - you were someone who he sought love in. A person who Leon wanted to cherish in every way. The same concept lingered within you too, his presence calmed you down but comforted you in ways you didn't know were possible. He was your sugar daddy, yours.

Still, you and Leon wanted something more with each other. Desires that needed to be satiated soon.

Leon's card pinged as he paid for the meal, the waiter giving his thanks for the generous tip he left. Seeing him waltz off with the tray in his hand. Love filled your body watching Leon treat others so nicely. Fuck. You were falling fast. Too fast that it was scarily fun. His dirty blonde hair covering his eyes ever so slightly, his clean hands slotting the card back into his wallet. The slight veins protruding out, allowing your eyes to travel up his exposed forearms. Moles littered all over them alongside some arm hair.

His watch gleamed from the LED lights above you both, your eyes trailed all over him. This didn't go unnoticed as a little smirk plastered Leon's face. He was about to speak until the waiter came back.

"Here, it's on the house. Candy bags for both of you." The waiter grinned, placing two bags of candy in front of you. Candy? I mean, free candy is always nice. Thank you's left your mouth and Leon inspected the candy inside. Lollipops, hard candy, chewy... Before he looked up, he heard a wrapper rustle.

Your fingers tugged on the wrapper of the lollipop, undressing it for the ball of sugar that stood on a stick. His eyes gazed as you popped it in your mouth. A soft hum of approval muffled between the lollipop and your lips. Those soft plump lips that Leon kept looking at. A pang of jealousy flowed in his veins as he saw the way your tongue swirled the lollipop.

This was going to be a long day.

The ride to the mall was short, the same lollipop in your mouth as your tongue slowly was painted it's colour. You knew the effect you had on him, your head went crazy seeing his eyes glance at you often. No longer to your body, but to those pretty lips you had wrapped around your lollipop. Teasing him a bit more, a quick kitten lick around it made Leon suppress back a groan. Biting his lip hard and snapping his head the other way - pleading to whoever was up there to help him breathe a little.

Delving back into the bag, you grabbed two more lollipops as the mall was close. A small smirk thinning out your lips. Putting them into your purse, the drive came to a close. Leon shifted slightly to ease the stress in his pants. A bit too tight for his liking. Clicking the button, the seatbelt unraveled itself as he got out of his car. Walking over to the passenger side, opening the door up for you.

Taking your hand into his, he guided you out the vehicle, his other arm wrapping around your waist - his hand lightly squeezing it. The large establishment shadowed over you both whilst you walked towards it. Your heart pacing quickening with each step, Leon's hold on you was comforting yet enchanting. An immeasurable thirst building within you.

Shop after shop, Leon's hands started to become full of strings that held up the bags of clothing, makeup and whatnot you decided to get. No objections left him as you picked up something. You want it? You get it. Being treated to that sweet smile you gave him when he said 'yes' was all he could ever want. False. He needed your lips around his cock as he saw you continuously licking and sucking on your second lollipop of the day. That sugary rush secreting in your body, making you a little more hyper than usual.

Leon found himself mentally shouting at his thoughts. The grip on the strings that held the pretty clothes you got for yourself became tight as he scrutinized you. Unable to control himself, a huff left his lips as he continued to see you sucking on the sugary ball.

Fantasizing about you for so long led him to forget what you both were actually doing. Snapping back into reality, he looked away from you and saw you walk into a lingerie shop. Hold on. Wait, what the fuck? Lingerie shop. Leon's breath hitched as he walked in, seeing all the different mannequins brandish the laced items of clothing. He could picture you in the multitude of lingerie pieces that surrounded him - he honestly believed he was going insane. Your arm interlaced with his as you escorted him to the mass amount of fabric beautifully designed for your body.

A smug smile sketched itself on your face as you saw a set of lingerie, grabbing your attention immediately. Taking the lollipop out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you both together - you turn your head to Leon.

"What about this set?" A faux innocence entangled in your tone as your eyelashes flutter at him, the lollipop glistening under the light. Leon forced down a groan as he looked at you - seems like this first meeting was going to turn south at this point. His dick was basically throbbing imagining you in it. How pretty your tits would be, the way he would worship every curve on you.

Damn it. He couldn't think straight.

"Get it." A demanding tone elicited out of his throat, an almost growl as he saw your fingers pick at what cup size you were. The tips of your fingers rubbing against the material, weaving your way through it all. Grabbing what you needed, you looked at him - hunger was apparent in his eyes. He feasted on you, his eyes fucking you once again. Leon couldn't wait anymore, he led you to the till point. His fingers taking out a wad of cash, passing the notes over to the cashier. Not bothering to get his change, he ushered you out.

You could feel yourself getting wet again. What was this spell he had on you? He could just magically cast on you a haze of desire strictly for him. The grip of his hand on yours was tight as he paved the way towards his car. One hand held yours as the other carried the bundle of bags you accumulated in a few hours. Reaching his destination, you stood beside him as he situated the bags in the back of the vehicle, Leon's face in immense concentration as he imagined you in the set. The bulge in his pants becoming heavier and more apparent whilst he led you into the passenger seat. Although he was tense with endless longing for you, his hands were gentle as his fingers lingered on your body for a little while longer than usual. With you in the car, he slammed the car door shut, hurrying over to his side - entering in swiftly.

"You're a damn tease." Leon's voice was hoarse as he started the ignition, his head turned side to side as he reversed. Looking at you from the corner of his eye, he concentrated on that little smile you had on for him. That fucking lollipop still in your mouth. You were a minx.

"I don't know what you're talking about." A teasing tone left your throat, finishing the lollipop and licking your lips to get that sugar coating off. He couldn't help but groan at the sight. His hand slowly wandered off the gearshift and onto your thigh. You could feel a gentle squeezing sensation travel up to your heat. Leon's palm gradually nearing closer and closer - reminding you who was in control.

The sounds of gravel mushing against the wheels of the vehicle alerted you of the end of the journey. However the house in front of you was not one you knew. Leon's house stood proud as the exterior design bestowed a sensation of luxury. Parking the car, he turned his attention to you - looking at you with the same message of need and lust.

"Do me a favour sweetheart," he spoke gravelly, turning to grab a bag from the backseat. "Put this on for me will you?" The tips of your fingers grazed his whilst he passed you the bag. The lingerie combination awaiting to be clung to your body. A nimble nod left you as your throat felt dry. Compressing your thighs together to relieve yourself of the ache for a few seconds, you view Leon as he gets out of the car - going to open your side for you. A slight shake in your legs was visible when you walked towards the front door. The sound of keys jangling looped your ears as your eyes laid upon the inside of the building.

It was beautiful.

The tidiness of the place was outstanding as you walked in. Looking at the place was short-lived as Leon took you into the master bathroom. Your fingers weaved between the strings of the bag gradually opening it up and taking out the prized object. He gave your waist a squeeze and left you inside to change out of your outfit into the revealing piece he bought you.

Leon's heart was racing, his steps to his bedroom was heavy. Opening the door he was welcomed into the familiar room, the scent of freshness coming from his humidifier. Straightening out the sheets, closing the blinds and dimming the lights he palmed his erection slightly. Light pants vacated him, trying to get his thoughts together. You were doing things to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Looking around the room to make sure everything was perfect, his thoughts were cut short hearing the creaking sound next to him.

There you stood. Your curves accentuated by the set, your bare skin captivating Leon. You felt your breath hitch, awaiting for him to say something. But actions spoke louder than words, his hands slowly caressing your sides.

"Beautiful..." A soft mumble came from him, eying you down with passion. His calloused hands brushing over the smoothness of your skin. This sight only for him. A view that nobody else was lucky enough to see. He reached out, his hand coming to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into you. Pulling you closer, his body pressed up against yours - you fit so snug against him. Leon bent down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he steered you both to the bed. The covers hugging your body as you plopped down, his knee propped in-between both of your legs.

The pressure of your clothed clit against his knee elicited a moan out of you. Dripping onto the fabric of his jeans, creating a darker colour on them. The smudge of your essence spread quickly as his knee continued to slightly rub up and down. Whimpers could be heard from you whilst your body pleaded for more. More of him.

"Please..." A choked whisper came from you, pleading with him to give you more. To reward you more of his touch. Leon looked at you, already so needy for him. Such a pretty sight glancing down at his knee, your panties clinging onto your puffy pussy. His hand stroked your side as he peppered kisses on your neck. Leon's teeth nipping at your delicate flesh - making a deep mark on you.

"Patience love, I want to take my time with you." He mumbled into your neck, his voice vibrating against your skin - tickling you ever so slightly. How could he call you a tease when he was prolonging this for so long?

Your hips stuttered, trying to push yourself over the edge as you rode out his knee impatiently. Your slick made it easier for you to get the sensation you longed for. His wet kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone - sucking and nibbling to mark you as his. Pornographic moans drew out of your throat, nearly bringing Leon over the edge already. He couldn't get enough of you. It was like you were some succubus drawing him in with every sound that became trapped in the four walls that confided you both. Addictive.

Lifting himself off you slightly, he removed the straps off your body, slipping the material down slightly. Your tits bouncing slightly from the action. A twinge of embarrassment loomed over your face - your hands shying him away as you covered yourself up.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" His eyes flickered up to meet yours - seeing your face he knew damn well what you were thinking. "Don't cover yourself up, you're gorgeous..." His thumbs caressed both of your hands. Avoiding his gaze, which Leon didn't like, you stutter out a response.

"M'just nervous." Feeling self conscious within yourself, you expected Leon to get frustrated. Contradicting your thought process, he placed a tender on your soft lips.

"It's okay to be nervous, do you wanna stop?" His fingers held your chin, pulling you to look at him. A slight shake of your head signaled you didn't want him to stop. His kiss made you feel warm. Safe. Hesitating slightly, you pulled your hands away - allowing him to see your upper chest fully.

"Thank you love," He fondled with your breasts, his fingers leisurely rubbing the nubs on them. "All this f'me... So fucking pretty." Without warning, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Swirling around the hard bud clingily. He practically drooled over your tits as he looked up - seeing your scrunched up face in pure bliss. The sensitivity of your nipples caused you to shiver slightly. A small smirk grew on his face as he continued his ministrations on your boobs. Appreciating them, kissing them, sucking them. He couldn't have enough.

The cold air hit your skin as he unlatched his lips, kissing down your stomach. He could cum just from doing this. His fingers hooked under the fabric, prying it off you until he took the top half off. He pinched your nipple whilst littering your body with his soft kisses. A gasp leaving your lips, your nipples hardening from the coldness. Leon moaned as he felt his hips buck subconsciously into the bed, he was so needy for you. His body dependent on yours - the heat radiating from your frame made his cock throb with an ache that needed to be sated.

But no. He needed to make you cum on his tongue. God. Leon has to taste your essence. A craving that he could attain now that he shifted you further up the mattress. Propping himself to dive into your slick cunt. Manicured nails feathered through the locks of his hair, a shudder leaving him as he glanced up at you one last time. Telepathically asking for your consent when he removed your soaked panties.

"Mhm..." The mumble was quiet, but he heard nonetheless. You knew he did as he licked the slit of your pussy, a growl like groan leaving him whilst he sunk his head back down the apex of your thighs.

Skillful movements of his tongue became unmistakable, flicking it up and down on your clit. Mixing it along with a few kisses and sucking motions - it brought tears to your eyes.

Your heart and mind craving more, juxtaposing your movements as you were out of control.

Trying to push him away - feeling your orgasm slowly build up. To no avail, Leon pressed his hands down, suppressing you to the quilt and him. Sandwiched in what was going to give you an enchanting release, your fingers bunched up his hair to pull on it. Giving you some sort of control in the situation. This granted you a moan from Leon, still persevering to make you cum.

The bridge of his nose rocking into your clit, multiple wet sounds coming out of his mouth. Your pussy gushing at his experience, Leon needed you to cum. Hearing your gasping moans whilst his mouth transferred itself to your clit made him double take if he even needed to fuck you to cum. Just pleasuring you was getting him off to a point where he thought he would cum in his boxers if you carried on spoiling him with the gratification of giving you oral.

"Leon, m'so close!" The whine fleeing out of your mouth did it for him. He lifted his mouth off you; meanwhile your head shot up no longer feeling his tongue anymore. Before you could protest, Leon spat on his fingers, coating them well in order to put them inside of you. Your walls tightened whilst he would piston them deep - curling them so good at your g-spot. Alongside with his mouth returning back to your bundle of nerves.

An otherworldly feeling rose within you as you sputtered out filthy moans. Leon's lips curled into a smile, feeling that you were about to cum on his fingers. Muffled since he was sandwiched between both of your thighs he spoke out, a sultry tone laced with it.

"Cum f'me baby, come on." Those words sent you over the edge. The crispiness of his voice echoed in your ears as you felt that impending orgasm finally release. Screaming his name, embedding chants of thanks, he rubbed soft circles on your clit. Slowing his movements to grant you a moment's peace allowing you to come down from your high. With his chin soaked, his fingers coated, he licked them clean whilst looking at your erotic blissed out expression.

"Such a good girl, a pretty one at that." He kissed your thigh, getting up from in between your legs. A deep kiss shared amongst the two of you, you were tasting yourself on his tongue. Leon's hands no longer clung on your skin as he removed his shirt.

You saw the scars that littered his body, a dark mark highlighted on his left shoulder. Some sort of bullet wound. To pry in this situation would be bad, it would just kill the mood. However, you could feel yourself getting hot once again when your eyes trailed over him again. Prominent abs shining through with his biceps putting you in an non existent chokehold. The light veins protruding through, showcasing his whole body. All that came from you was a breathy pant, you couldn't speak. Not when he was this handsome.

"You're staring sweetheart." He kissed your forehead, allowing you to snap out of your trance.

"Sorry..." A sheepish murmur left you. Still, you couldn't turn away as your eyes zoomed around his body once again. Fuck.

A chuckle brought you to look at his hands as they capably undid his belt. The leather shining snapping your attention to very clear bulge in his pants. Feeling proud of yourself for making him hard, you meet his gaze on you. His expression was unreadable... besides the fact his stare on you was longing. That's all you could read off him. Who was he? What did he do for a living?

All of those thoughts were lost as he took off his pants, his precum already seeped through his boxers making a distinguished mark. Without thinking, your hands replaced his. Pulling the boxers off him in a flash to see the flushed red tip. Leon let out a choked gasp, unaware of your movements. Your stare didn't help him regain his composure at all, a roseate colour burning on his cheeks.

"Don't look at it like that..." He moaned softly. It was pretty. Minor veins travelling up to the tip, showcasing off the large one that curved slightly. The base of him neatly trimmed - he was clean. Thank fuck.

It wasn't long before Leon positioned himself to your cunt. Practically drooling for him. His touch gentle as he rubbed your sides - easing you to be less nervous.

"You okay? We can stop if you want." He mellowly asked whilst brushing away a few stray hairs from your face. His fingers lingering on your cheek as he caressed it softly. Seeing you shake your head back at him with a sweet smile reminding him of your consent in the situation gave him a sense of comfort. You saw him as a person. Not a tool, not a man who killed abhorrent things. But a guy who could make you feel good.

Pushing into you was with ease. Your sloppy pussy taking him in so well that his hips sputtered slightly feeling you tighten around him. Leon couldn't resist slowly rocking his hips, craving more of this sensation you happily gave him.

"You can go faster, m'okay..." Reassurance was all Leon needed in this. Hearing your words and consent to fuck you good snapped something within him. His thighs slapping against yours slightly, creating a soft 'plap plap plap' made the scene more erotic then it was. This was pure filth.

His thrusts becoming deeper he threw his head back. You felt so good wrapped around his dick. Leon felt your nails scratch his sides, you tried to cling onto something as he pumped himself again and again. Needing to feel your skin on his lips, he pressed himself closer to you - his kisses gently fluttering on your neck. The tighter you squeezed the closer he was. Smothering your skin with marks that shown you were his. He made you his by forming his cock shape inside of you.

The base of his cock had a ring of cum forming around it. Displaying your last orgasm whilst he was soon to bring you to your next. His hips didn't stop the everlasting assault against yours, bucking into you helplessly. Leon hadn't felt this alive in ages. This horny mess he was encapsulated in brought him to his memories of when he was young. A young adult pumping with energy once again but this time he was older, more mature. Much more experienced. You were the lucky one to feel his experience. To feel him let go of himself in you.

He propped himself back up, the sheer sheet of sweat highlighting his abs in the dim light alongside the beads of sweat that covered his forehead. "Good fucking girl... take it." Dirty words left his lips and flowed into your ears. Words that make you shiver, blush and shake slightly in his grasp.

A growl escaped Leon when he felt your legs wrap around his hips. Fuck, did you want him to cum inside? His mind went crazy at the thought. Calloused hands gripped you tightly whilst he looked at you. So beautiful. You were gorgeous. The mewls that scratched your throat as you shot your eyes open when you felt like you could see stars. Only to meet Leon's gaze once again - just this time, you both were so close to the brink of release.

The way the scene held such love. A sugar baby and sugar daddy wouldn't have this with each other. Maybe this was different. Both of your foreheads clung to each other. Gasps leaving your mouth, groans leaving his. Passionate kisses being traded between you two as his thick cock stuffed your sobbing pussy full.

"Love, fuck, you have to unwrap... your legs." He managed gasp out. Leon's dick was throbbing, aching for the sweet release he craved for. You were in a state of bliss, your body nearly becoming limp as you obeyed with his instruction. The bundle of nerves tingled. You were so close. So close to cumming around him. Leon could feel it. He could see it. Shakily, his thumb reached that precious, sensitive clit that longed to be rubbed. His ministrations on it brought the loudest of screams from you.

"Leon! I-I can't..." Your wails only made him dizzier. Dizzy from how fucking pretty you were for him.

"You can sweetheart, come on... cum on my cock. Be a, shit so tight... Be a good girl and cum f'me baby." Leon moaned out, he was about to fill you up if you weren't quick. Lucky enough, a bit more pressure on your clit caused you to shake uncontrollably. The same feeling as before washing over you - just a lot stronger. His eyes watched everything. How your body shook in his arms, the way your eyes rolled back as his name slipped from your tongue. Looking down, he could see your tits bounce whilst he carried on fucking you. Marks strewn all over you.

Leon's hips stuttered, he swiftly pulled out of you - cumming instantly on your pussy. The white, glossy substance coating your slit. Some spurts shot up and landed on your tummy. His head thrown back as he came down from his high, his endorphins going mental.

"Fuck..." He held himself up slightly, trying not to crush you with his body weight. A deep chuckle abandoning his throat as he saw you pant. Your fingers clutching onto his bicep whilst you tried to steady yourself.

Cute.

"You okay?" A deep voice knocked you out of your trance, looking at him dizzily. "Mm..." Your nods spoke louder than your mumble as you held onto him. His fingers latched onto a few tissues from the box on his bedside table. Wiping gently the mess he created on you. Mellow kisses on your stomach, tickling you a little.

He wanted something more. A relationship even. But a long term relationship would mean you would see the nightmares that taunted him. The crying, the hurt, the horror. He didn't want you to see that just yet. So this 'agreement', was enough for now. But everyone would know he was yours and you were his. He would make sure of it. Even if it meant marking you up or perhaps putting a placement ring on your finger before the real deal. Anything to make you happy, you were his happiness.

He guided you into the master bathroom again. Just for a different reason. Running the bath, it filled up rather quickly. Leon's hands wondering over your skin whilst massaging any parts he may have clutched onto a bit too tightly. Soft kisses on your face, lips and neck carried on. Not out of lust - it was love. His love for you met no limits.

The smile that would creep up his face when he heard you giggle made his heart flutter. That hole that was punctured so deep from his job was filled by your presence.

"Thank you..." Your voice was melodic. Bringing Leon to look at you with heart shaped eyes. A deeper kiss shared amongst the both of you whilst he got you both in the bath. The warm water soaking into your muscles, easing them up from the pleasure you both faced.

"Of course, anything for you." His words held such comfort that it could make you cry. Who knew a sugar daddy could bring you happiness in the romance department? Or maybe he was just separate from the others. You didn't care. All you cared about was him, and you wanted to know more about him. Trailing your eyes up to him, you see him remember something.

"Hm? What's up?" The inquiry you had made him chuckle. Confused, you prod him to give you an answer. His lips pressed against your forehead before he spoke.

"Is $2000 enough for tonight?"

I was punched and pepper sprayed by cops that my university administration set on student protesters yesterday. Including once where a cop ripped my mask off my face, grabbed my jaw, and sprayed pepper sprayed straight into my mouth. The university sent out an alert in the middle of our protest canceling classes for the rest of the day, only citing “adverse conditions”. After protesters dispersed under threat of even more violence and three buses of riot police from all over the state with rubber bullets and bully sticks parked in front of one our school’s famous landmarks. I staggered over to a couple of friends who were watching on the sidelines. They gave me water and an apple and held a bag of ice on my very pepper spray irritated face. As they were walking me back to my dorm we ran into one of their roommates. She had taken cancelled classes as an opportunity to get crumbl cookie with her friends. Standing in front of her, happy in a floral blouse with her box of cookies, in my pepper spray and water soaked tshirt, keffiyeh sadly hanging off my shoulder, holding an ice pack to my mouth, felt like a slap in the face.

After putting my pepper spray soaked clothes, shoes, and keffiyeh in a plastic bag and taking an extraordinarily painful shower, a friend and I went for dinner just off campus. There we had a pot of green tea and ramen to soothe pepper sprayed throats. We got ice cream after (shared a cup with chocolate and raspberry pomegranate with strawberry pieces on top, it was very good). From our spot outside the ice cream place we watched a steady stream of groups of sorority girls in matching jeans shorts and blue bikini tops walking back to their apartments after some apparently raucous parties. The cognitive dissonance was insane. I really felt a little like I was going crazy.

Even this morning, waking up to the smeared sharpie of the National Lawyer’s Guild’s phone number on my arm, a black and blue chest from where a grown man straight up clocked me while I was held up by two other protesters in a wall, and a still sore throat and eyes from the pepper spray, life goes on like normal. I still have final papers to write and a math exam to review for.

I’m not sure I really have a point. But, this feeling only makes me want to fight harder for a free Palestine. So, fuck Israel for being an apartheid state and all of their crimes over the last 76 years. Fuck university administration for not disclosing their level of investment in Israel. Fuck university administration for not divesting from this genocide. Fuck Joe Biden for actively supporting this genocide. And fuck the police.

PLS BOKUTO SMUT I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL VIV 🙏🙏🙏

❥ nepenthe | kotaro bokuto

warnings: timeskip! bokuto, fem! reader, mutual pining, bokuto is emo in the beginning, dry humping/grinding, multiple orgasms, making out, incredibly lewd dialogue, fingering, missionary, two text messages, unprotected sex, tiny corruption kink, possessive! bokuto if u squint, extreme fluff at the end, bokuto is a semi-hard dom in bed, atsumu, hinata and sakusa mentioned, not proofread (unless u count grammarly)

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.3k (lol)

opal i would write anything for u i love u sm

got a request? asks are open!

Being on the MSBY Black Jackals was all the Bokuto could ever dream of. Playing on a team made up of his peers, the adoring cheers from the crowd filled his ears and boosted his ego. He especially loved how cute the girls in the stands were and how they wore merchandized versions of his jersey. People paid good money to watch him play, him. Was there nothing better than the universe could offer him? Indeed, Kotaro Bokuto’s life was perfectly perfect. 

Except until recently. He had missed a significant spike in the latest game against the Alders, which nearly cost him the match. He was not okay. But that was just a first-time thing, right? Indeed, he would not miss a spike in tomorrow’s practice. He’s Bokuto; he doesn’t miss spikes. And then he missed nearly all of his spikes. He was not doing well when he returned to his penthouse apartment that evening. Was he in a slump?

His golden eyes flicked back and forth on his ceiling as he lay in his plush bed, hands crossed over his chest in thought. Why was he acting like this? He occasionally missed a spike, but that was a rare event. Was he missing them so frequently? What if he wasn’t as good of a volleyball player as he thought? Anxiety plagued his mind, making him toss and turn in his cotton comforter decorated with owls (stylish owls, of course). Bokuto’s black and white hair became incredibly messy, reflecting his inner thoughts. Luckily, he had a means of comforting himself. When the opposite hitter wasn’t doing so well at times like these, he could always turn to you, one of his beloved Black Jackal Managers. 

You were the kindest of all the managers he had, that was for sure. While the other seven managers focused on scheduling or payroll, you were the personality hire. Your pretty face automatically boosted the morale of the entire team, like a beam of sunlight poking out from the clouds after a thunderstorm. Bokuto liked you; he really liked you. Every single practice, he would pray that you’d be there, sitting on your chair, diligently taking notes while wearing that MSBY windbreaker that covered the curves of your breasts in the most annoying manner possible. Fuck, you were so damn pretty.

Bokuto reached for his phone, which was charging on the bedside table, scrolling through his messages until he landed on your chat from a couple of weeks ago. The topic was simple: What kind of onigiri did he want from Onigiri Miya? It was just a question, but the notification made his heart race every time he read it. The pads of his thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment, unsure of how to word his message. He wanted you to visit him. Why couldn’t he just type that? After minutes of contemplation, he had sent his message. Bokuto’s phone was thrown to the other side of the bed, nearly getting lost in the mess of thick duvet. The opposite hitter slammed his face into his fluffed pillow, groaning into the fabric. 

Kotaro Bokuto: Wanna come over and talk? Been feeling really down recently. :( 

It felt like hours since he sent the text, looking at where he tossed his phone every other minute to see if the home screen lit up. Finally, after agonizingly painful minutes passed, his screen lit up with your message, the cute little heart icon next to your name making him break out in a crooked smile. 

Cute Manager: I’ll be over in 30 minutes. Bringing my famous sugar cookies! They always brighten someone’s day <3

Bokuto practically threw himself off his bed, looking around his messy apartment. Shit, had that smell always been there? Why (and how) was there a sock on the ceiling fan? Don’t even get him started on the empty packages that littered his living room floor; this was a disaster. He had to ensure it was perfect for you, his angelic manager. You thought so highly of him; he wasn’t about to lose that due to a messy apartment. 

He cleaned like a man gone wild, sensual R&B music playing from a speaker in his kitchen. He had obtained three full trash bags and one spilling-over hamper, but he had made his apartment look presentable. The counters were no longer sticky, and the sock was down from the fan, thanks to him expertly flinging rubber bands at the blades. Bokuto was proud of himself, bearing a satisfied smirk while his hands rested on his hips in a hero pose. 

The doorbell rang. Oh fuck, how were you here already? Did half an hour seriously pass by so quickly? He didn’t even have time to change out of his black tank top! Maybe that was a good thing? Perhaps you liked looking at his massive biceps. Whatever, he didn’t have time to think about all that. His cute manager was waiting behind that door with a plate of delicious sugar cookies!

Bokuto swung the door open a little too enthusiastically, his crooked smile fully displayed amongst his handsome features. His golden eyes instantly landed on your figure, drinking in your outfit. A low-cut black scoop neck top with oversized ripped jeans; fucking perfection. You offered him a kind smile and held out the wrapped-up plate of cookies, tilting your head to the side. “Hey, Bokuto! I’m here, like I promised. Oh, and I brought the cookies. Don’t ask for the recipe because I won’t tell!” you giggled, stepping inside his apartment. It was cleaner than you imagined, and it smelled like roses. Who knew that Bokuto could be so neat?

“Woah, it’s even bigger than I imagined! Sometimes I forget how much professional athletes make annually,” you joked, kicking off your ballet flats on the shoe stand. “You must have an amazing view at night, look at the city! It’s gorgeous.” you turned to Bokuto and smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s been a while since we last hung out, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah! I guess it has, eh? Time flies when you’re a Black Jackal!” Bokuto awkwardly stammered, growing increasingly flustered as the almond shape of your manicured nails made contact with his muscular shoulders. “Thanks for coming over so quickly; I thought you were at a club or something.”

You shook your head and leaned against the raised kitchen counter, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, I hate clubs. It’s always so stuffy in there, and there’s always a hand on your ass, whether you want it or not.” you brushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck. The perfume you had to carefully put on, a mixture of lilac and jasmine, filled Bokuto’s nostrils. He was only a few feet from your body, yet the aroma drove him secretly insane. “What about you, do you like clubs? You seem like the type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bokuto asked, pretending to clutch his pearls.

“Well, you’re extroverted and love having a good time. That’s what the clubs are for, aren’t they?” you paused your speech, matching his gaze with your own. “But you haven’t been having a good time recently, have you?”

Bokuto shook his head and slumped onto the sofa, his bottom lip curling into a childish pout. “No, you’re right. I just can’t hit my stupid spikes! Atsumu’s been on my ass about it like it’s my fault that I can’t seem to hit them! I mean, I guess it’s my fault…whatever! I don’t know what I’m saying anymore!” he slammed his face in his hands, groaning in exasperation. 

You smiled softly and sat next to him, patting his muscular back. “Hey, it’ll be alright. You’ve hit amazing spikes before, and you’ll hit amazing spikes again. I know you will.” your soft hands ran up and down the thin fabric of his tank top, massaging the tense muscles underneath. “We all have our slumps, you know. Nobody is perfect, not even Atsumu. Besides,” your lips were centimeters away from his ear. “Atsumu is my least favorite.”

Bokuto chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing your cheek against his pectoral. “Yeah, but he’s really funny! Except when he texts the group chat with me, Shoyo, and Sakusa…then he gets really gross. Usually about the women he slept with or something.”

“Ew,” you blush softly as Bokuto's muscular bicep wraps around your waist, his large hand squeezing the fabric of your jeans. “So, are you feeling any better now? Do you wanna eat a cookie and watch a movie, maybe? What would make you feel better?” you could feel his heartbreak in his chest, the thumbing sensation of the organ being a somewhat calming presence. “Because when you’re sad, the Jackals can’t really get anything done. No offense.”

Bokuto chuckled and squeezed you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. God, you smelled fucking amazing. Did you always smell so good? “I’m down for a movie if you’re down. What kind of movie were you thinking of?”

“Comedy, maybe? I don’t know, you can pick,” you replied.

“Comedy it is,” Bokuto leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning on the massive television he owned. His hand remained firmly grasped on your waist, occasionally running his thumb up and down the denim of your high-waisted jeans. He flicked through a couple of films under the comedy section in his DVR until he selected a random one. He chose it solely on how fantastic the movie poster was, naturally. 

The opening credits played from the surround sound speakers, and his hand was still snug on your waist, his golden eyes occasionally stealing a chaste look. You were smaller than him, so he really only got to see the top of your head, but you were so fucking adorable. Bokuto thought it was vital that you didn’t push him away after he wrapped his arm around you and that you welcomed his touch. You trusted him so much, making his heart beat a million miles a minute. 

The movie's beginning was hilarious, as expected from an award-winning comedy. Bokuto’s laugh was deep in comparison to yours. Of course, your laugh was adorable; why wouldn’t it be? He felt as though his heart would explode from your presence, beating erratically in his chest.

“Are you feeling okay? Your heart is beating really fast,” you questioned, lifting your face from its comfortable resting spot on his chest. “Do you need anything at all?”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to say. Should he just confess how much he wants you, how much he craves to have your lips on his own? What if you rejected his advances and quit managing the team? “Uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart, did he really just say that? Bokuto cringed at himself.

A small smile graced your delicate features at the endearing name, your tiny hand resting on his chest. “Bokuto, I’m always going to worry about my team. Especially you, you’re my favorite. Did you know that?”

His mind went blank for a second. He was your favorite. He was your favorite. Out of all the members of the Black Jackals, you liked him the most. “I-I didn’t know that at all, am I actually your favorite? You aren’t messing with me or anything?”

“Why would I lie about that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just…you’re beautiful. And I’m your favorite…it makes me feel special. I know I’m already special, just like, more special. Y’know?” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” your eyes bore into his once more, the chatter from the movie falling on deaf ears. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

Bokuto softly smiled at you, adoring how the light from the television illuminated your blushing face. “Yeah, I really think so. I’ve thought that for a while since you were hired.” his other hand cupped the right side of your face, his calloused thumb running across your cheekbone. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty, too?”

You giggled and rested your hand on Bokuto’s, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I think you’re beautiful, Bokuto. And handsome and adorable.” you leaned upwards, your noses touching. “You’re funny, kind, and sometimes a little too confident. You’re sensitive, and you care so much about your teammates. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I want you to have me,” he whispered, his voice a low baritone. “Please, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me that I can have you, even if it’s just for tonight.” his lips hovered over yours, not daring to do anything without your permission. “Because if you say it’s okay, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, sweetness.”

His hot breath tickled the tiny hairs on your face, mouth slightly agape. You gulped and nodded, closing your eyes while his hands cupped your cheeks. “It’s okay, Kotaro.”

The sound of his given name falling from your lips was all he needed to press his mouth to yours in a searing kiss filled with unfulfilled desires. It was slow and sensual, yet it held so much molten passion. His lips molded with yours so perfectly, the taste of your chapstick making him savor you even more. His hands fled your face and grasped onto your hips, pulling you into his lap with no trouble at all. Bokuto pressed your chest against his own, groaning against your petal-like lips. A spark was set in his lower belly, his hands trailing down to your ass. He squeezed the denim fabric, eliciting an adorable squeak from your mouth. 

You pulled away after a moment, both of your faces incredibly flushed. “Shit,” Bokuto breathed out, toying with the hem of your jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetness.”

“Me too,” you whispered, kissing his neck gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” you placed another kiss, then another, and another. “For so fucking long.” you nibbled onto his collarbone playfully, earning yourself a beautiful moan from Bokuto’s bruised lips. 

“Fuck, I never pegged you for a biter. Thought I would always be the one biting you,” he purred, slipping his hands underneath your jeans and panties. You gasped at the coldness of his hands on your warm skin, how his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your ass. “But I guess I can let you nibble on me for a little longer since you’re so damn pretty.”

“When did you get so good at flirting, hm?” you began to suckle on his collarbone.

“The moment I got signed to the Black Jackals. They’re, fuck, they’re a bunch of womanizers.” he softly moaned at the sensation of your teeth suckling at his tough flesh. “Taught me a thing or two.”

You pulled away from his neck and smiled, kissing his forehead. “So I take it you picked up a thing or two?”

“Damn right, I have,” his hands squeezed your ass once more. “Can you do me a favor and take these off, sweetness? I’ll take mine off, too. That way, we’re even.”

You got off his lap and shimmied out of your jeans, tossing them aside along with your top. You wore a matching bra and panty set, the black fabric hugging your curves tenderly. “Now, you do yours. Don’t keep me waiting, Ko’.” 

His nickname rang in his ears, your voice making it drip like honey. Bokutp practically ripped off his clothes, leaving him in only his MSBY boxers. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.” he leaned into the leather couch, spreading his legs. “C’mere gorgeous, sit on my lap.”

Bokuto’s hands once again cupped your ass as you straddled his lap, admiring how thick his thighs were. You had never noticed it before, but Bokuto was a big guy. “That’s it, good girl. Right on my thigh there, pretty.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as your clothed pussy made contact with his bare thigh, unconsciously rubbing against it. “You’re really fucking sexy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Bokuto pulled you into another kiss, aggressively slamming his lips against yours while his hands remained glued to your ass. His tongue prodded against your lips impatiently, begging to be let inside your mouth. You happily obliged, a mewl falling from your lips as his tongue briefly danced with yours. Bokuto pulled away, breaking the strand of saliva that connected your lips. “Your voice is too damn pretty,” his hand cracked against your ass, causing you to grind further onto his thigh. Embarrassed, you hid your face in his bruised neck, earning a smug smirk from Bokuto. “Oh, did that feel good, baby? Don’t be shy now; you can tell me.” he smacked your ass once more, relishing in your pleasurable squeaks and squeals. “Does someone like it when I smack their ass?”

“Y-yeah!” you whimpered into his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hips bucked against his thigh, your core desperate for friction. “Please, lemme ride your thigh. You feel so fucking good, Ko’.”

Bokuto threw his head back at your begging, his cock growing painfully hard in his boxers. “Yeah, you wanna grind on my thigh, pretty girl?” he squeezed the plushness of your thigh. “I’m the only one who can make you feel this way, right? Because I’m the best. Say it, and you can do whatever you want.” 

You let out a broken sigh and pulled your face out from his neck, your pearly whites nibbling at the shell of his ear. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good, Kotaro.” Your breath was sweet and sensual, and you were full of wanting for your release. “Please, I wanna ride your thigh.”

“Good girl,” he praised, gripping onto your hips. He began to drag you up and down his thigh, embracing the cute little noises you made. “That’s it, baby, talk to me. Tell me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

“So good! So good, Ko’.” you whimpered, a warmth sensation bubbling up inside your belly as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh. Your small hands rested on his abs, running up and down the prevalent muscle. “T-talk to me, helps me get off–fuck!” you tossed your head back, hair falling out of your face as Bokuto purposefully flexed his thigh muscle. 

He groaned at the sight of you, head thrown back, tits bouncing in your bra as you used his thigh to get yourself off. His goddess of a manager was using him to cum, his thigh. It was so fucking perfect. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? You come to practice in those short shorts that show off your ass so well. Do you know what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you moaned, feeling your climax approach quickly. You were basically rutting yourself against his thigh like a bitch in heat, and it felt fucking incredible. 

“Every time you bent over, I thought about this ass,” he smacked the exposed flesh, definitely leaving a handprint later. “Thought about squeezing it, about smacking it, how it would look wearing slutty black panties.” Bokuto flexed his thigh muscles even more, giving you a sturdier surface to grind on. 

“Thought about you clawing at my back while I fuck you in the locker room, so the rest of the team can back the fuck off. Keep you all to myself, my pretty manager.” he spat through his teeth, gripping your jaw tightly with his hand. “Look at me when you cum, pretty girl. Wanna see that cute little face.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip, pulling slightly.

Your mouth went slack-jawed as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes struggling to look at Bokuto while you continued to ride his thigh until you came down from nirvana. “F-fuck!” you sobbed, your hips ceasing their bucking once your high was finished. “Shit, I made a mess on your thigh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bokuto groaned, lifting you off of his thigh so quickly. “Fuck, you soaked your panties. I guess you gotta take them off now, yeah? Bra, too. Don’t be shy around me.” he set you down on the coffee table, your form blocking the movie, but he didn’t care about the movie anymore. There was only you. 

Still shaking from the shockwaves of your release, you slowly stripped yourself of your remaining clothes, placing them down on the glass of the table. Bokuto drank in your view, like an artist staring at a finished painting. You were gorgeous, ethereal, out of this world. Surely, it would be impossible for anyone else to match your beauty. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, pushing himself off of the couch to grab your wrist. “Bedroom. Now.”

He practically dragged you into his bedroom, throwing you down onto the plush owl-themed comforter. You giggled at the childish fabric as Bokuto hovered above you, his hands on either side of your head. “I take it you love owls?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I fucking love owls,” he smirked, leaning down to peck your nose. “Not as much as I love how you look right now, pretty girl.” his right hand squeezed your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple while his left hand managed to continue holding him up.

“You’re such a tease,” you moaned as he pinched your sensitive bud, his massive hand encasing your entire breast. “I thought you wanted to fuck me, Kotaro. Am I wrong?” 

“You aren’t wrong, sweetness,” he purred, rolling his hips against yours. You could feel his cock pulsating through his boxers, begging to be inside you. “Just wanna make sure you’re prepped first. I’m a big guy, y’know?” he stuck his fingers inside of his mouth, coating them with saliva before prodding at your entrance with the digits, slowly sticking them inside your heat. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Did my thigh make you cum that much, princess?”

You gasped as he curled his fingers deep inside of you, his ministrations slow and sensual. “Fuck! Y-yes, y’made me cum so much! Love your thighs, Ko’!” you squeaked, instinctively squeezing your thighs together.

Bokuto tutted and used his free hand to shove your legs apart, now kneeling above you. “Don’t try to hide it, sweetness. You know I don’t like that.” he was not knuckle-deep inside your weeping cunt, his fingers plunging inside so expertly. “Fuck, gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“S-shit! You’re gonna make me cum again!” you whimpered, grasping onto your breasts for additional stimulation. “God, how do your fingers feel so fucking good?”

“Can’t answer that for you, sweetheart. You wanna cum again, pretty girl? Want me to rub your clit and make a mess all over my hand?” he teased, beginning to massage your sensitive clit with the pad of this thumb. His fingers were still scissoring you open, coating you with the mixture of his saliva and your release. 

“Yes, fuck! Please, Ko’!” you whined, the familiar bubbling sensation in your belly threatening to spill over. Your legs were now dangling over his shoulder, quaking in ecstasy. “Wanna cum, fucking make me cum!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he offered you a mischievous smirk, furiously rubbing his thumb over your clit as you tumbled into pure pleasure once more. Your mouth became agape; your head tossed into the plush pillow behind you. His fingers ceased their movement, sliding out of your cunt covered in your slick. “Shit,” Bokuto mumbled, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “Fucking delicious.”

He gave you another kiss, leaving some of your release on your lips. His boxers were peeled off and thrown onto the nightstand as he fumbled through one of the drawers, cursing at himself. “God dammnit, I know I have one. Where the fuck is it?”

“Looking for a condom?” you asked, the breath still being knocked out of your lungs.

“Yeah, it’s being a pain in the ass to find, though.”

“I’m on the pill.” you plainly state, smiling at him. “You don’t have to use a condom. It’ll be okay with me.” 

Bokuto stopped rummaging through the drawer, turning over to look at you with a look that could only be a mixture of lust and absolute delight. “Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m happy to hit it raw; I just don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

You nodded your head and pulled him close to you by his shoulder, pecking his nose sweetly. “I promise, Kotaro. You don’t have to use a condom when you’re with me.”

“God, that’s music to my fucking ears, baby,” his voice rumbled, his hands resting on the bottoms of your thighs. You were propped up by your elbows and Bokuto’s variety of pillows, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen. “Can’t wait to ruin this fucking pussy.”

You tilted your head to the side in confidence, winking. “Then what are you waiting for?” you spread your legs, exposing your glistening heat to him once more. “Ruin me, Kotaro.”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip and growled, aligning his cock with your cunt. “You have no idea what you’re in for, pretty girl.” the mushroom head pushed past your folds, the newfound sensation causing the both of you to moan softly. “Shit, you’re still so tight. That’s okay,” he chuckled, snapping his hips against yours. His cock slammed inside of you, filling you up so quickly. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”

“Holy shit!” you sobbed, your fingers scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets. “Kotaro!”

“That’s it, baby, scream my name while I fuck this pussy stupid.” Bokuto hissed, pounding into you without giving you the chance to catch your breath. You looked so fucking pretty underneath him, especially the way your greedy pussy took him so well. The way your sobbing walls enveloped him entirely it was perfection. “Taking me so well, good fucking girl.”

Your pathetic mewls were like that of a morning songbird, the most beautiful melody. Bokuto hoisted your legs above his shoulders once again, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You screamed, the head prodding at your cervix. “Fuck, shit, oh my god! Kotaro, f-fuck!”

His thrusts were animalistic as if he were in heat. They were uncalculated and had no rhythm, only a mission to make you stupid on his cock. His hands gripped onto your ankles while he started at your lewd form, admiring how your small hands encased your breasts in an attempt to create more stimulation. How greedy you were. He thought it was adorable. Everything about you was simply adorable. 

“Good fucking girl, that’s my girl,” he groaned as you squeezed around him, pulling him impossibly deep. “Oh, you like it when I call you that? Your pussy is sucking me in, pretty girl.” he teased, smacking the underside of your thigh. 

You attempted to speak, but all that fell from your lips was incoherent babbling. Your mind was all fuzzy, full of nothing but thoughts of Bokuto fucking you senseless. You arched your back further into the mattress, your hair forming the messiest halo above you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the bedroom, the movie in the living room being a thing of the past. 

“My pretty girl can’t speak now, but that’s okay,” Bokuto assured you, punctuating his sentences with a harsh slam inside of you. “I’ll just make you cum again, yeah? We’ll cum at the same time, okay, pretty girl? I know you got one more in you. Wanna give it to me? Don’t you think I deserve it? I wanna hear you say that. Say I deserve to make you cum again!”

“Fuck!” you sobbed, your orgasm dangerously close. You didn’t think you could handle one more, his cock bullying its way in and out of your weeping cunt. “Y’deserve to make me cum again, Kotaro! F-fuck, think I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Don’t fucking hold out on me, baby. You know I like it messy!” Bokuto bent forward, his thrusts becoming more erratic and needy as his cock twitched inside of you, begging for release. “Gonna fucking cum in this pussy, make it all fucking mine!”

“Shit!” you sobbed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Kotaro!” his name fell from your lips like a broken pair as you came for the third and final time that night, completely coating his cock in your glistening slick.

“Holy fuck, yeah, yeah! Fucking hell!” Bokuto roared, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your core, creating a new warm sensation in your belly. His thrusts grew slower and slower, almost as if he was attempting to fuck his cum inside of you. “Dont wanna…stop fucking you…but I’m tired.” he groaned, letting your legs fall back onto your chest. “Shit.”

Bokuto shamelessly collapsed onto you, purposely landing on your breast. He lifted his hips so his cock could slide out of you, almost with the thinnest streams of his release down your bruised thighs. “Mmm, that was so fucking good,” he mumbled against your breast, sucking on your pert nipple for a moment. “You got the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me,” your hands ran through his damp black and white strands, acting as a comb. “You felt so fucking good, Kotaro. I’m glad I could help out. Do you think you’ll feel better at tomorrow's practice?”

Bokuto looked up from your breast and smiled brightly, cupping your flushed face with his hands. “I’m totally gonna kick everyone's ass! Atsumu won’t know what’ll hit him!”

“There’s the Bokuto we know and love!” you chuckle. 

“I’m back, baby!” he weakly flexed his muscle, kissing your cheek playfully. “Guess all I needed was my sexy manager. Best damn cure on the planet!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed the top of his head. “You act completely different when you’re inside of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he titled his head.

“Absolutely not. I think it’s adorable. You’re adorable.” you kissed his cheek once more. “So, uh, is it possible for us to do this again sometime? I-it was nice.” your eyes landed on the floor, embarrassed for no reason.

Bokuto flashed you his signature crooked smile and laughed, kissing your neck. “What a stupid question. Of course, we can do this again! We basically confessed before I fucked you, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot.” you awkwardly chuckled, leaning into his enthusiastic kisses. “Maybe your dick knocked all the brains out of my skull.”

“But then you won’t have any more left when you watch us practice!” Bokuto whined, snuggling his face into your chest once more. “You gotta have some brain left, okay?”

“Okay, Kotaro,” you mumbled, your eyelids growing heavy. “Hey…it’s pretty late. Would it be okay if I slept here for the night? I understand if you don’t want me to.”

“Hell yeah, you can sleep here!” He cheered softly, running his hand up and down your arm. “That way, you can arrive with me to practice tomorrow. Then I can show off my new girlfriend to the team and make them all super jealous.”

You chuckled. “Oh, am I your girlfriend now?”

“Do…do you wanna be my girlfriend?” his voice was soft and unsure.

“Of course I do, cutie.” you pecked the top of his head, pulling up the owl-themed covers. “Now, get some sleep. You got a lot to do tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mm, okay, baby. I can’t wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow.” he innocently whispered, shutting his eyes as sleep overtook him.

“Goodnight, Kotaro,” you whispered, flicking off the lamp as the two of you fell asleep in a mutual embrace, eager for what tomorrow will bring.

copyright © 4unnyr0se 2024 all right reserved

reblogs appreciated ❤

HAPPY OCTOBER 31ST THE ONLY DAY U CAN REBLOG THIS

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Rules

hiiiiiiii, I’m Liv(she/her) and these are just some of my basic rules and what not. I’ll probably update this list as I go, I’m pretty forgetful so I’m probably forgetting something in this list

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Fandoms I write (can change)

Aot

Haikyuu

JJK

Naruto

Cowboy bebop

Mha

Tlou

Dc

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Basic rules

• This blog will have a mix of a lot of things. So sfw and nsfw. I’ll be putting warnings on things but just know theres gonna be a lot of different things <3

• request are open, just know my rules (stated below this). I am a college student so if i don't answer asks its probably because I’m doing shit for that.

• Lastly be nice, this is a friendly space. If you’re rude, racist, anti-lgbtq+, etc. Go fuck yourself :)

Content/request rules

+ No babies. pregnancy is just not it for me y’all, IRL and in fics, not for me bb. Now will I write breeding stuff…possibly…but thats different <3

+ No mental illness stuff babes. I want my writing to be positive and a place to escape. Not gonna back track by putting depressing shit in my stuff.

+ No incest shit. no stepcest stuff either, thats not my kinda thing babes.

+ Rape, self harm, sexual harassment, any of that stuff. i dont think i need to really explain that

Mmhmmhmhmm

Might write something about this omg

choso with a back tattoo and piercings

Can you please write joel and female reader getting walked in on💙

Hiyaaaa!!! This was supposed to be out like a week ago but the draft for this got deleted and i got caught up with school work otherwise i would’ve had it out quicker and longer :))))))

This is my first Joel request so thank youuuu. I hope you like it!!

Mdni, 18+

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Things were normal just a few minutes ago.

You were just working outside in the garden on your hands and knees, and the next you’re in the kitchen getting bent over the kitchen table.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened, you didn’t even hear your husband come in through the back sliding door. Joel had been working outside, fixing the deck you guys had to prep from the summer barbecue’s you’d plan on doing. Now he was bent over you, grunting into your ear.

“Fuck- come on baby.” He grunted, kissing the side of your neck and thrusting deep into you. You could hear the skin of his hips hitting your ass with every thrust, making you clench even harder around him.

“Ah-Joel!” You moan out to your husband, reaching behind you to grab his arm. He wraps that arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his sweaty body. You threw your head back when you felt Joels other hand reach down to rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Joel knew you were close too, you seem to be clenching tighter with every thrust.

“Yeah, come for me baby, almo-“

“Hey Joel I got that wood you w-Oh shit!” is all you hear before realizing Tommy just walked through the front door. You and Joel immediately separate and try to fix your clothes. You let out a yelp, face getting immediately red from the situation.

“Jesus Tommy, what the hell!” Joel growls at his brother, who now had his back turned to give you two a bit of privacy.

“Well maybe you should lock your door lovebirds.” He responds peaking over his shoulder at you two. Joel just shakes his head, grumbling at his brother. He walks over to him and starts to push him out the front door.

“Shouldn’t have to lock the door if you learned how to knock dumbass.” He tells him, pushing him out and locking the door behind him. Once Tommy is out, Joel turns around and leans against the door with his eyes closed. You walk towards him and grab onto his arms, pulling him towards you into an embrace.

“You think he saw anything?” You ask up at him, face still a bit red from the whole scenario. Joel gives a small hmm, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Better not have.” He tells you, giving you a small kiss. When he pull away from you he looks down at you with a smirk.

“Now, where were we?”