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depravitycentral · 29 days ago

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Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, mentions of non-con and dub-con, public masturbation, voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, spitting (m and f receiving), dick slapping, cumplay, possessiveness, mild gore, mentions of death, Stockholm Syndrome/reader is implied to start liking him, Sanemi is kind of a hot mess approaching sex so hopefully that has been conveyed, I hc hard that Sanemi is a virgin so don't bother fighting me on it, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 15K

HABITS:

Intimacy is very much not something that Sanemi is familiar with. He’s never even considered taking a partner, staunchly ignoring his fellow Hashira’s taunts (almost exclusively from Tengen and the odd, poorly-timed comment from Giyuu) about how he’d just ‘calm down’ a bit if he had a pretty woman to relieve his stress onto.

And while he’s mature enough to admit there’s probably some truth to that, he’s still rejecting the very few advances that come his way. He’s not only entirely uninterested in dealing with the intricacies and expectations of a relationship, but he’s also convinced that due to his traumatic past and the way he deals he interacts with those he loves, he’s unfit to be a partner.

He doesn’t think he has the capability to properly commit himself to someone, to become emotionally dependent on them – and frankly he doesn’t want them to become emotionally attached to him, either. It’s just too risky considering his job and his habits in battle – every night is a question of survival, missions leaving him so bloody and battered that it’s a miracle he pulls through, a miracle that Shinobu doesn’t just kill him herself with how often he winds up in her infirmary.

It’s just wildly unpractical – and it’s not like he chooses to become so horribly, deeply obsessed with you. He’s angry in the beginning, genuinely trying to hate you and distance himself from you in every possible way, but you’re like some irritating, persistent bug that manages to crawl back to him every time he thinks he’s shaken you off.

(A mindset that makes him feel incredibly guilty later on, ashamed of himself for having thought of you in such a derogatory, rude way. This is particularly true because now he’d be absolutely devastated if you were to leave his life, panic and terror engulfing him because no no no you’re not allowed to leave him.)

But once the feelings have been cemented and Sanemi finally, finally accepts that he can do nothing to change him, that outlook on intimacy being unavailable begins to change. Of course, he’s not immediately grabbing and groping at you, nor is he fantasizing about the way you’d look underneath him whimpering and writhing as he fucks into you.

(Wet dreams aside, of course. He doesn’t often wake up to messy, sticky sheets, but the shame that swallows him when he does is so palpable that even his fellow Hashira notice. Rengoku will ask in a much-too-loud voice if he’d slept well, if he’s okay, why there’s still a slight flush on his face, leaving Sanemi to only snap at him and storm out of whatever area they’re in.)

No, his fantasies are genuinely more innocent in the beginning – virginal, really, with the way he blushes a light pink at the thought of wrapping you in his arms, the simple idea of hugging you being enough to get him covering his mouth with his palm, too flustered to function. The mere concept of you pressing a kiss to his cheek – not even his fucking lips – gets him feeling hot under the collar, body too warm for him to sit still, needing to blow off the steam and refocus himself before he embarrasses himself in front of you.

It makes him feel weak, really, how these simplistic, easy forms of intimacy and affection are able to affect him in such a profound way, and as time passes it’s really only natural for his imagination to start turning lewder. It’s not something that he thinks of on his own necessarily, if only because there’s a large mental block there where he tries to separate the thought of you from anything he deems disrespectful or dirty.

He tells himself that you’re pretty, not sexy. (But oh god does he think you’re sexy, everything from your voice to your hair to your skin making him drool like some sort of perverted old man, blood rushing between his legs when he sees you bite your lip or flick your hair, having to quickly excuse himself for fear that you’ll see the way his pants are growing sinfully tight.)

You’re sweet, not naughty. (But oh, Sanemi wouldn’t mind if you were a bit bratty in bed, if you had a rebellious streak to you and made him work for it, made him put in every ounce of effort just to get you creaming on his fingers or tugging on his hair or letting him spill every last drop of cum he has to give you inside that tight little cunt of yours.)

It’s a strict boundary for him, but all it takes is a single seed to be planted that ultimately breaks his moral high ground. Perhaps it’s Rengoku noticing off-hand that Sanemi seems to be a bit quieter these days, the former laughing loudly and congratulating Sanemi on finding that beautiful woman Tengen was talking about – tell me, does she satisfy you in all the ways you require? It makes Sanemi sputter and cough slightly, shocked at both Rengoku’s observational accuracy and the insinuation of you pleasuring him.

(And also seething in jealousy because how the fuck does Rengoku know about you? Has he met you? Has he fucked you? Is that why he’s thinking about you in a sexual manner?)

He tries to stop it, but it’s too late – there’s a quick, shockingly explicit image of you on your back, knees folded up to your chin and Sanemi’s cock stretching you so widely that you’re crying, nails scraping down his back and moans of yes yes please more ‘Nemi please falling past your lips.

He’s ashamed of himself, training until he nearly blacks out from the exhaustion, Iguro shocked and mildly concerned at just how hard and raggedly he’s pushing himself.

(And, out of respect for the unspoken friendship between them, he ignores the way Sanemi’s been sporting a raging hard-on for the duration of their some three-hour sparring session, cock swollen and not settling down for even an instant. Frankly, he’s amazed Sanemi could fight as well as he did considering his situation.)

It’s shameful, Sanemi thinks, and it leaves him utterly mortified that he's letting his more primal thoughts win, but once the door opens he can’t quite shut it. He still tries – pushing idle thoughts of you on your knees for him out of his mind, cursing under his breath as he follows a few feet behind you, acting as your shadow and trying so, so very desperately to not notice the way your kimono is spread tightly across your ass. It’s commendable, really, just how long he manages to keep himself accountable, but it becomes more difficult the more time he spends watching you, seeing aspects of you that are really much more personal than he has a right to know.

And the final straw comes one sunny afternoon, when you’re walking with him down the rather crowded street of your town. He’s accompanying you because ‘it’s too crowded for you to be out alone’, as he’d told you, and he’s staying close to your side, careful not to touch you but always in your peripheral.

And really, maybe he’d had a point – because all it takes is a single shove from a woman next to you, and suddenly you’re falling forward, arms automatically reaching out to steady yourself but instead slamming into Sanemi’s chest, his noise of shock and the feeling of your thumbs touching his bare skin distracting him enough to leave the two of you tumbling the to the ground.

And of course you land on top of him – directly on top of him, with your kimono slightly askew and your clothed breasts pressed up against the expanse of his exposed chest, able to feel the fullness and softness of them. Your breath’s fanning against his neck as you blink and mutter a quick apology, your ascent ungraceful as you accidentally grind your thigh against his crotch, a small, nearly mute groan falling from his lips at the action.

He’s dazed, cheeks flushing a warm pink color and his eyes wide as they stare at you, even as you stand up and try to help him up. But he just can’t move – the feeling of your skin and body against his is too fresh in his mind, imprinted and replaying over and over as he closes his eyes.

And even the feeling of your hands grasping onto his as you try to lift him to his feet is sending him dangerously close to the edge, already feeling himself growing hard and his breathing getting labored.

He doesn’t say a word of it to you, only grunting at your frenzied apologies, not trusting his voice because he’s sure if he tried all he’d manage to push out would be a weak moan of your name. He takes you back to your home immediately, dropping you off in an uncharacteristically abrupt manner, only stopping to make sure you make it past your front door before he’s practically sprinting off, only able to heave in the deep breaths once he’s a good mile or so away from your home.

It’s only then that he finally lets go of the desperate, difficult breathing techniques he had to employ to keep a check on his cock, stopping himself from getting fully hard and only making the smallest of tents in his pants so as to not catch your attention. But as he heaves, wild eyes staring up at the sky, he’s clutching onto the fabric of his haori, knees slightly weak as he stumbles into the surrounding forest.

He’s in an empty area, and as he ventures deeper into the trees and shrubbery, he finds himself leaning against a nearby trunk. Fuck fuck fuck, all he can think about is the way your body was so warm and how you fit perfectly against him, as if your body was molded to fit his. It’s driving him crazy – everything feels too hot, sweat beading at his temple and his palms clammy. He tries to regain his breathing but it’s still coming out ragged, winded and sloppy, his cock so hard that it hurts, mind swirling with thoughts of you and only you.

And even after ten minutes of trying to calm down, Sanemi eventually curses, eyes squeezed shut and palm slapping the trunk of the tree as he realizes that the only way to get his body under his control again is to deal with the problem. It’s embarrassing, more than anything, and he quickly glances around the thickly forested alcove he’s found himself in, the daylight trickling in through the gaps in the trees and illuminating his chest.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Sanemi undoes his belt, the metal sounding loud in the quiet of the forest but slightly muffled by his breathing. It makes him bite his lip, flushing an ever deeper red color, but he shimmies his uniform pants down slightly, just enough to rest under the curve of his balls, staring with pinched brows at the way his cock is absolutely red – it’s swollen, almost visibly pulsing, so heavy that it only stands at a measly ninety degrees.

After a moment of contemplation Sanemi almost, almost tucks himself back into his pants, the guilt at masturbating to you nearly overwhelming, but then he’s hearing your voice in his head, ringing through and saying Sanemi thank you for catching my fall, Sanemi Sanemi Sanemi…

He’s spitting into his palm before he can stop himself, fingers wrapping deftly around his base and immediately flicking up and down, a mixture of a groan and a sigh of relief slipping from him as he finally, finally gets stimulation. His eyes close and he rests his arm against the tree over his head, leaning his forehead against his forearm.

He’s immediately imagining you – the feeling of your chest pressing against his, and images of times he’s accidentally seen you nude while peeking in through your windows crossing his mind. (And truly, they had been accidental – he’d looked away as soon as he regained his senses, blushing bright and running a hand through his hair, waiting for a good twenty minutes to ensure you were properly clothed before he chanced another glance.)

They’re so fucking perfect – he’s never felt a pair of breasts in his life but he’s sure yours are unbearably soft, that they’d be dense and squishy and perfect to squeeze and paw at. He’s biting his lip as he remembers the way your nipples look, licking his lips and even puckering them slightly as he imagines sucking at them, wondering with a particularly harsh tug of his cock whether you’d keen and sigh and moan.

His fist gets tighter as he thinks of the way your knee had brushed against him, balls clenching a bit at the idea that you’ve touched his cock, even accidentally and through multiple layers of clothing. He can’t help but imagine your hands wrapped around himself, fingers daintier and prettier than his own calloused, scarred ones, and his eyes peel open to watch them run up and down his length, looking crude and barbaric as he fucks into his fist harder, his hips starting to move in tandem with his wrist.

You’d look cute, he decides, when you jerk him off – you’d be such a juxtaposition, with feminine hands and soft skin against his masculine, thick cock, and the thought alone makes him grit his teeth, embarrassment and pleasure creeping up his spine because fuuuck he’s never felt this close so quickly before.

His mind snaps back to right before the fall, and suddenly he’s gasping your name and opening his eyes wide as the phantom touch of your fingers against his bare chest hits him, hips stuttering and sounds that are much too high-pitched for his liking filling the small forest area.

He’s turning around, back slamming against the trunk as he continues his brutal pace, keeping his fist stationary as his hips thrust and pound away, imagining it’s your pretty cunt instead. His free hand comes up to his face, the feeling of you grabbing at it and clutching your fingers against his driving him to press his palm tightly against his nose, deeply inhaling and sliding down the trunk a bit as he catches what he thinks is a very, very faint whiff of you on his skin.

His head tilts back, his thrusts getting sharper and more carnal, unconsciously angling them to brush against the top of his hand, where he knows you like best. He’s inhaling over and over again, smelling his hand like some dog, only pulling away to briefly lap at his palm, tongue lolling out and licking long, fat stripes across the skin, desperate to taste you, too.

He’s breathing hard, panting and chanting your name like some sort of prayer, the pleasure in his navel starting to build and grow. You’re just so fucking perfect, and he just knows you feel soft and warm and god he can’t fucking wait to touch you and feel you and pleasure you and make you moan his name and come for him and oh god oh fuck it’s coming it’s coming –

He nearly yells your name as cum oozes from his swollen tip, biting back the gaspy, airy groans that threaten to spill from his lips as his hips wildly jerk, uneven thrusts complimented by his abs clenching so tightly that his knees go weak, crouching against the base of the tree trunk.

He’s panting still, chest heaving as if he’d just run for hours, his face still flushed as he looks up, trying desperately to regain his senses. He’s still clouded by the smell and taste of you, and he only moves his hand to come clutch at his uniform, grabbing the same spot you’d grabbed earlier, squeezing at the fabric so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

There’s a trail of cum on the forest floor in front of him, white slowly cooling and smearing against the leaves, but Sanemi can’t find it in himself to care. There’s guilt settling deep in his chest as he comes down from his high, cock going pathetically limp against the waistband of his pants. He curses, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand, shame weighing heavily on him.

He’d just masturbated to you and reached the fastest orgasm of his life because of it.

It feels like some sort of selfish defeat, and he’s filled with self-loathing as he makes his way back to the Wind Estate for a change of clothes, berating himself for his weakness and promising to never give into his hormones like that again.

And yet, a mere five days later, he’s got his fist wrapped around himself again, fantasies of you bouncing in his lap like he’s just some toy for you to use racing through his mind, his composure slipping because he’d give absolutely anything to be of use to you, even just as something to get you off and discard afterwards.

It makes him feel pathetic, like a perverted, sorry excuse of an admirer of yours, but he just can’t help himself – how can he, when his every waking thought revolves solely around you?

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Ass

In general, Sanemi loves the parts of you most that are the softest and the squishiest. He’s all hard lines – plains of muscle that’s rock hard to the touch, scars that are ragged and bumpy against the smoother texture of his skin. He’s all hard edges, but you’re the complete opposite – you’re sweet and soft, and Sanemi naturally gravitates towards areas that really showcase this.

Consequently, he finds his hands edging close to your ass from pretty much the beginning of your sexual relationship. He likes how plump the area is – he adores when you wear shorter skirts around him, or, ideally, just the pretty, lacy panties he buys for you with heat on his cheeks and embarrassment creeping up his spine.

(Of course, he’d bought many of them long before he’d stolen you away, long before he’d ever touched you in any serious capacity. He’d seen them when he was passing through an adult shop on a mission, and while he’d felt like a massive pervert for it, he’d purchased a pair that’s a particularly eye-catching emerald green, white lace trim at the edges and a matching garter belt and bra to go with it. He’d been mortified when he’d returned home and stared at the fabric, the fatigue and adrenaline having finally worn off, but the mere idea of you wearing the pretty fabric was enough to get him breathing heavy. It was enough to get him covering his mouth with his hand, cock painfully hard because even his imagination of how your pretty ass cupped by the cheeky underwear would look is enough to get precum staining his pants.)

When he’s kissing you, his hands are resting on your ass, groping and idly squeezing, playing with the fat and very, very gently slapping at it, kissing you even harder when he feels the way you squirm and yelp.

He prefers positions where you can make eye contact, but the somewhat rare times he has you bent over, Sanemi is absolutely feral – he’s smacking your ass and pounding into you as hard as he can, his grip on your hips tight enough to bruise as he loses himself in the way your ass ricochets against his pelvis, the wet slap slap noise forcing him to get on one knee, mounting you even more, fucking you like an animal.

(And while he’s not the absolute loudest during sex, you’ll hear some of the filthiest, foulest things fall past his lips when he’s fucking you from behind – he'll have you in prone bone, breath hot against your ear as he tells you that ‘s fucking tight, you’re so damn tight, fuck fuck fuuuuck, his voice groaned and strained as his hips punctuate each curse. And his grip on you is tight – fingertips digging into the plush of your hips and lovehandles, gripping hard enough to leave small imprints behind, feeling like he’s clutching onto you, like he’s scared you’ll disappear.)

He’s not picky about your shape, either – you could have perfectly round, full cheeks or very little definition and he’d still be in love, his fingers still twitching and flexing at his side with the urge to reach out and squeeze, to knead at the skin and hear the way you’d yelp and cling onto him.

(Perhaps you’d even smack his hand away, embarrassment creeping up your spine and your flustered expression making him lick his lips, hellbent on making you come so many times the only thing you can think of is him him him. He always has grand plans to tease you, wanting to have you looking at him with glossy eyes and be completely under his thumb, but every time he gets you naked in front of him it’s him who’s at your beck and call, pathetically eager to do whatever you wish.)

He won’t try to touch you until you have a more established sexual relationship in place, which will take several months of being trapped with him to achieve. But once the floodgates are opened he becomes extremely touchy – he’s always got his hands on you, squeezing and groping and touching, and you’ll often even find that when you’re laying on your front, he’ll come lay behind you, shyly at first as he places his cheek against the soft skin, a hand gripping onto your thigh as he relaxes, too embarrassed to make eye contact but basking in the softness of you, in the peace of the moment, in the way you’re really here, with him.

He loves the rest of your body too, of course, but his natural resting place for both his hands and eyes is your ass, and he’s not nearly as subtle as he hopes he is.

(Not at all, but there’s almost something endearing about it – the quick-tempered, serious Hashira so blatantly ogling you, his lips parting and his nostrils flaring as he stares, almost unblinking. It makes you feel good, truly, flattered despite the perverted nature of his staring. And so as time passes you’ll find that you can excuse it, his bashfulness and obvious attraction to you almost flattering the longer you go without other human contact.)

His Abs

By and large, Sanemi desperately wants to impress you.

He lives for your praise, finding that the sweet words slipping from your lips are enough to leave him feeling like he’s floating, a sort of genuine joy he hasn’t felt in years settling into his chest, making him fight off a smile. As such, he’s very, very attentive to your reactions to his body.

Years of pushing himself to become stronger and battling so often have left his body riddled with muscles and scars, leaving him in peak physical health. And you’ll know this from nearly the first moment you meet him – after all, it’s difficult to not notice the little peek-a-boo at his abs in his uniform, the skin defined and often glistening with sweat.

He’s proud of his chest, and he has to swallow very, very hard the first time he catches you glancing at the exposed skin. It makes his ego inflate, something pleasant licking at his chest because oh, were you just checking him out? It doesn’t matter if you were or not – because to Sanemi you were, and that fact doesn’t leave his mind for weeks.

He’s proud of his abs, and quickly grows to love showing them off to you. He elects to keep a shirt on for most of your early time trapped with him, not wanting to scare you or frighten you by being half-undressed. (He doesn’t want you be to feeling pressured into anything, because while he would never force you into anything even remotely sexual, he doesn’t want there to be any sort of dubious fear or doubt motivating you to finally seek out intimacy with him. Aside from your kidnapping and the stalking, of course. And the way his desperation for you is so thick it leaves you squirming in discomfort.)

But once your sexual relationship starts?

Oh – he’s constantly shirtless, purposefully flexing when you’re nearby so that his abs stand out more defined, pectorals looking firmer, the muscles of his back standing out and practically begging for you to run your finger over them. He loves when you trace the lines of his six-pack, your soft finger dipping between the muscles and sending shivers along his skin because fuck, even just your finger is getting him hot under the collar.

Press kisses against the area, murmuring to him that he’s so strong and that you feel so safe with you ‘Nemi, I know you could protect me from anything. He’ll grumble under his breath but the blush sporting his cheeks and neck give him away, as does the way his hips involuntarily and imperceptibly buck.

Kiss further down to the happy trail of silvery hair leading below the waistband of his pants, the skin ticklish and sensitive enough to leave him sucking in a breath, his fists tightening until his knuckles are white because oh, you’re such a damn tease. When you’re perched on top of him, rolling your hips and letting him cup at your ass to help guide you, rest a hand against his abs and he’ll groan, the muscles clenching underneath your palm.

(Often, when he’s getting too close to his orgasm and he doesn’t want the moment to end quite yet, he’ll pull you forward so that you’re straddling his stomach, looking up at you with dazed lilac eyes, telling you in a hoarse, heady voice to grind on me, use me, ‘m all yours. He wants you to touch his abs, to feel your cunt scooping and rubbing against the planes of muscle. He wants to watch the way your face contorts as you catch your clit on a particularly raised section, maybe even on a scar, his orgasm slowly – very slowly – fading off but his cock still remaining starkly at attention. You’re just so damn pretty when you’re smearing slick against his skin, the sight wanton and lewd but feeling so very right. And later that night, when he’s helping you to the bath and diligently washing your body, he’ll scowl before he washes off his own abs, slightly pissed that he has to wash away the trace of you.)

He just likes you to touch what he’s so proud of, and each and every time you have a remotely positive reaction towards them, Sanemi is in heaven. After all, you’re looking at him, and that’s something that makes both his cock and his heart swell.

DRIVE:

Sanemi is, for a lack of a better term, sexually frustrated. He’s never touched anyone before and never been touched himself, and even touching himself is something he rarely partakes in. Every ounce of irritation, anger, anxiety, and stress is taken out via rigorous training and often yelling. When he feels pent-up he finds that a good, quick spar is often a more effective way to quell it rather than jerking off.

Not to mention, there’s something about masturbating that makes Sanemi feel even more lonely and frustrated than before – it hurts slightly to know that he doesn’t have anyone to be thinking of, that while he saves men and women with partners and lovers, he’s not quite like them. Hell, even a few of his fellow Hashira have partners, someone to touch them and hold them, reassuring them and comforting them when the nightmares of screaming family members and demons become too much. It makes him feel pathetic when he feels sorry for himself for being so painfully alone, and this results in Sanemi avoiding pleasuring himself as often as possible.

But of course, biology has other plans for him – he’s in the sexual prime of his life, and when he can’t quite seem to work off the steam with a thorough work-out or eventful patrol, he’ll begrudgingly resort to his hand. It’s typically impersonal, wrapping his fingers around himself and steadily jerking up and down while he closes his eyes and bites back his groans.

He’s not thinking of anything in particular – maybe imagining it’s the hand of some mystery woman replacing his own, but nothing more than that. It’s fast, too, the pleasure slowly mounting and then crashing through him, gritting his teeth as he finishes and promptly cleaning up, wanting to waste no more time with it. It’s all just so very clinical, almost – even when he’s horny, even when the frustration mounts so high that it’s unbearable.

And while he’s slow to warm up to fantasizing about you in a sexual capacity, Sanemi’s irregular indulgences in lust remain. Of course, it’s much, much better now – now that he has someone to actively close his eyes and think about, imagining your voice and your body and your touch. It’s infinitely better because while you’re still not by his side or touching him with your own hands and lips and cunt, he can still fantasize that one day you will, that one day you’ll want him like he wants you.

And it’s enough – his sex drive is still fairly low, and even once he begins actively having sex with you it remains on the lower side. He’d just truly rather hold you or listen to you speak than pin you down and fuck you.

(Or have you pin him down and ride him until he’s shooting blanks and tearing up with red cheeks and fisting the sheets so hard his knuckles are white.)

But of course, he’s only a man and those urges do hit him – enough so that he has a sort of system in place for signaling that he’s feeling hot, that he’s restless, that he’s mentally undressing you and planning out all the positions and ways he can get you creaming on his cock. His signals aren’t particularly graceful, either – it starts with him sitting closer to you, his body completely tense and every muscle clenched.

(He does this unconsciously, both as a way to control himself from just reaching out and snatching you, and also to subconsciously make himself seem bigger, to look stronger and more masculine, to appeal to your more feminine side. He’s not even aware he does it, and if you point it out he’ll vehemently deny it, calling you deluded and making some comment about how you’re projecting your own lewdness onto him, but he knows you’re right, and he also knows he can’t stop it.)

Then he’ll start looking at you with more focus. He’s always staring at you, those wide eyes never leaving your form, but now he’s doing things – again, unconsciously – without realizing that give it all away; licking his lips, adjusting his pants, swallowing audibly.

It’s all things that you’ll notice, and depending on how far along you are in your captivity with him, your response to these signals dictates whether or not you end up with cum smearing the inside of your thighs – if you grimace and shy away from him, Sanemi will clench his jaw, nod slightly and look away. He’ll immediately get up and leave the room both from embarrassment and hurt at your rejection, and to avoid making you feel any sort of pressure or guilt to give him physical intimacy.

But if you scoot in closer, clench your thighs a bit, give him that sultry fucking look you know he loves, then he’s immediately kissing you, big hand cupping your cheek as the other latches onto your breast, kneading and squeezing as he groans against your lips.

And it’s messy – the kiss is all tongue and spit, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he presses his body into you as far as he can, desperation and relief flowing through him because the feeling of your skin against his is satisfying parts of him he didn’t even know existed. If you accept his advances, he’ll maneuver you onto your back, nudging between your thighs and immediately licking and sucking away, the loud suction noises making your cheeks feel hot and making it difficult to not squirm around.

(Something that strokes Sanemi’s ego but also frustrates him because he wants you to lie still so he can properly touch you. He can’t go at the pace and angle you like when you’re wiggling around, so he’ll just take a thigh in each hand and keep you steady, using his strength to pin you down so that you can’t move away from his eager, sloppy mouth. Because he wants absolutely everything to be perfect – he wants you to feel so good that you’re begging for him, associating him with pleasure, knowing that he can and will give you exactly what your body needs.)

He’ll make you finish on his tongue and only then will he start working his pants down, cock already so red and wet with precum that it’s a miracle a single brush against your cunt doesn’t make him immediately release. The sex is eager – that’s really the only word for it, because Sanemi’s grabbing every part of your body he can reach, hands unable to stay still because he wants to feel everything, mapping every inch of your body with his fingers so that if somehow you disappear, he’ll remember everything. He’s handsy, and yet his hips are absolutely brutal – he’s fucking into you like a wild animal, hipbones smacking against your ass in a bruising rhythm that leaves your whole body bouncing, every soft, jiggly bit of you drawing his attention and only making him go harder because he wants to see more more more.

But he’s loud, too – all kinds of curses and rough, uneven praises of the way you feel and how you look are falling past his lips, voice sounding nearly pained with the overwhelming amount of stimulation you’re giving him.

He’s truly pussydrunk in every sense of the word – so when he very unnaturally and awkwardly tries to put his hand on your thigh when he’s signaling he’s feeling hot and needy for you, just know that you’ll have a lot of difficulty walking the next morning.

That said, Sanemi will absolutely never force you into anything sexual without your explicit (and frequent) verbal consent.

Despite his rough-around-the-edges appearance, he’s staunch on his moral beliefs that sex is something intimate that should be reserved for partners who truly care about each other. He believes that it should be something enjoyed, something meaningful, something wanted – and so, to have you actively fighting him or not engaging in what he’s doing to you would leave his skin crawling, disgust and a new, different kind of shame seeping through him.

(Different if only because up until that point, everything he’s done he’s been able to spin as somehow being for your safety – stalking you to make sure no one bothers you, learning all your habits and favorite foods, clothes, and hobbies letting him notice any deviations signifying something is wrong. Hell, even kidnapping you has some benefits for your safety – no demon is stupid enough to enter the Wind Estate, and he’ll be damned before he lets any strangers in with the possibility of coming into contact with you.)

But intimacy is different – he’s not good at being vulnerable, and to be naked with you, to hold you in his arms and feel your hands caress the parts of his body that are deeply scarred and unused to touch is a new level of unguarded that makes him anxious. He’s so used to keeping up a pseudo-façade of being reckless and wild and in these moments all he wants is to let you see him raw, the real Sanemi Shinazugawa that wants you so badly that it physically hurts.

And so, if you don’t want him he’ll respect that – it hurts, of course, and he’ll have trouble facing you for the next few days, but he's man enough to know that your consent is key. But it’s also this crippling fear of rejection and putting himself in a position of possible weakness with you that bars him from trying to progress your sexual relationship for a long, long time.

He’s desiring you in risqué and lewd ways long before he’s stolen you away, but it’s difficult to act on those, to put himself out there and risk your harsh, painful rejection of him.

(And he’s convinced you will reject him, if only because despite his persona, Sanemi harbors insecurities about his ability to be loved. He thinks there’s something deeply wrong with him, something that makes others fearful of him and something that will deter anyone from getting too close. Besides Genya, of course, but the matter is complicated.)

And so, he holds himself back from making any sort of move in your sexual relationship – he wants to either have you bring it up, or to keep everything between you as strictly protector-protectee as possible, even if he craves to touch you and lay with you.

But, like most things in your relationship, Sanemi’s restraint snaps one day. To be fair, it’s not entirely Sanemi’s fault – months of repressing his sex drive and ignoring the tantalizing way you look in the kimonos he hand-picked for you leaves him on the brink of exploding, so pent-up and sexually frustrated that it nearly drives him mad.

The final straw is a particularly brutal, gut-wrenching mission – he’d been tasked to stop a demon in a few towns over, a simple mission that he really, really should’ve been able to fix much quicker. But the demon was smart and seemed to sense his approach, and the carnage was far, far greater than Sanemi was expecting. Small children stained red with parents dismembered a few feet away, visible bite chunks leaving the smell of rot and death heavy in the air. It left his stomach churning, but what truly sent him off the end was hearing a small sob after he’d sliced the demon’s neck, the little boy crying next to what Sanemi could only assume was his dead mother.

That in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the boy’s striking, uncanny resemblance to his own brother Koto makes him stop in his tracks, lips falling open like a gaping fish. He’s frozen, simply staring like some fool, but then everything happens much, much too fast.

The demon’s suddenly swooping in, the boy’s head severed in the blink of an eye, a deranged cackle falling from the creature as a resounding crunchnoise fills the air. Sanemi’s thrown into a state of rage, immediately killing the demon and stabbing at it repeatedly. He’s cutting up each and every part of the monster (careful to avoid touching the boy’s head, though), yelling and cursing at it for what feels like hours.

By the time he’s done there’s tears pricking his eyes, and the walk back to his Estate is blurry and heavy with his own grief. He hasn’t cried in years, but something about the little boy’s face and the weight pressing on his back leave him with wet cheeks, the shoji door quietly sliding open to your room before he can catch himself.

You’re still awake, and he doesn’t even have the right mental state to be angry at you for cutting your sleep. He’s quiet, simply staring at you from the doorway as you wearily approach him, concerned and slightly scared because there’s blood smeared across his uniform and his eyes are bloodshot.

Sanemi? Your voice is weak, and you gently, hesitantly press a hand against his trembling fingers grasping onto the scabbard of his sword.

He swallows harshly, eyes locked onto yours. He whispers your name, voice low and hoarse, but before you can say anything he’s wrapping his arms around you, clutching onto your so tightly that your breathing is restricted. It leaves you yelping, unsure how to respond to the uncharacteristic affection, but the shallow shaking of his shoulders makes you soothingly run a hand through his hair.

Sanemi… You trail off again, but he only hugs you tighter in response. It’s some ten minutes before he finally sniffles, mumbling something against your clothed shoulder that you can’t quite hear.

When you don’t respond, he grips you tighter, pulling his face back just a hair to say again please, I need you to touch me.

It makes you stiffen in his grasp, and that makes him panic. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just – he stops, swallowing again and letting his weight sag against you even more. I just can’t be alone right now.

And maybe it’s the vulnerability in his tone, the strange, gentle side of him you so rarely see, or maybe it’s your own longing for human contact and touch that drives you to press a kiss against the crown of his head.

He gasps sharply, his grip loosening ever so slightly. You take the opportunity to gently pull back, grabbing his wrist and leading him over to your bed in the center of the room. He’s staring at you with wide, puffy eyes, shellshocked and unable to say anything as you grasp at the edge of his uniform.

Your voice is still soft as you tell him take this off, no blood on my bed, and he’s only staring for a single, long moment before the fabric is flying over his head, his pants quickly falling suite and leaving him bare aside from a pair of thin undergarments sitting dangerously low on the sharp v-line of his navel. He’s still looking at you, eyes wild and wide, his chest rising and falling so quickly that it almost worries you.

You’re much slower when you peel away your own sleeping clothes, leaving your body in only a thin, light-weight slip that makes Sanemi lick his lips. You’re so fucking pretty – it’s making something in his chest ache, his palms flexing by his sides, brain warring between the extreme emotional distress and arousal at seeing your partially exposed body and your desire for him.

You step forward, palm pressing against his cheek, and slowly pull him to you. Letting your lips ghost against his for a moment, you press a soft, barely-there kiss against the corner of his mouth. Murmuring his name, you feel the way his whole body shivers.

Finally, finally, you press your lips against his, moving slow and trying to let him relax into it. He’s still so tense – he wants this badly, but now that it’s actually happening he’s freezing up a bit. He’s dreamed and fantasized about this moment for months, lying awake and feeling pathetic for imagining that you could want him like this.

But the moment passes and he’s suddenly kissing you back, his movements sloppy and uncooridinated, evidence that he’s never done this before. But you take it in stride and pull back, the sound making his nostrils flare. He moves forward, chasing your lips, but you stop him with a lay down with me, please Sanemi.

And it’s as if he’s some well-trained pet – he’s immediately laying down, body tense and taut over your blankets, and he watches with baited breath as you straddle him, your thighs warm against his skin and oh god oh god –

He can feel it – can feel you.

You’re incredibly warm, the heat permeating through his underclothes as you press against his cock, the sensation forcing something that sounds much too similar to a moan to slip from his lips. It feels surreal – and when you start slowly moving your hips, grinding on him in teasingly slow, agonizingly pleasurable little circles, Sanemi’s gripping at your thighs, his self-restraint nearly buckling.

The evening passes full of slow, tender touches, exploring fingers and tongues covering every inch of your skin and his. The sex is soft, thrusts gentle and deep, rolling and pressing against every spot that makes your toes curl. He’s kissing you the whole time, grasping onto your skin like you’re his life line, a near-growl coming from somewhere deep in his throat when you take even a hand away from holding him. He wants your fingers tunneling through his hair, your leg wrapped around his waist, your nipples brushing against his own.

It's heaven, he thinks, and though he tries to hide his face as he ruts into you, the tears return to his eyes and before he knows it he’s chanting a slurred, choked mantra of your name, timing with his thrusts and begging you in a near-incomprehensible plea of never leave me, you can’t leave me, I won’t let you leave me.

It’s only after his hips stutter, a gasp of your name and his hot breath going ragged in your ear that he finally goes limp. He’s still inside you, the last throbs and bits of his orgasm rocking through him, but he’s carefully maneuvering your bodies so that he’s laying behind you. You’re caged in his arms – a heavy, muscular limb wrapped around your waist, body molded to yours and pulling you flush against him. He falls asleep like that – flaccidly inside you, his breath in your ear, his grip on you remaining deadly tight even as dreams overtake him. And eventually, you fall asleep too – exhausted, confused, and embracing this small, intimate moment even if you’ll regret it.

He’s gone the next morning, the covers wrapped up to your chin, the blankets and sheets on his side perfectly pristine.

He doesn’t mention that night for the foreseeable future, embarrassed and angry at himself for giving into temptation and allowing himself to be so weak in front of you. He’s worried that you might regret it, that you’ll find him disgusting for being so wanton and blatant in his begging for you, and he bars himself from engaging with you sexually again. (Out of embarrassment, out of shame, out of fear because god, he’s never been as desperate and depraved as he was the moment he slipped inside of you, and how would he react the second time? The third? The tenth?)

He won’t acknowledge that it happened, but you’ll notice the glances he starts throwing your way, the way his gaze lingers on your body, how he stiffens up the moment you get even remotely close to him. It’s a stark contrast to the man who’d been groaning out your name like salvation the night before, but just know that if you were to approach him, Sanemi will be putty in your hands.

If you were to kiss him or touch him or tell him how badly you need him, he’ll fold. He’ll get onto his knees, mouthing at your cunt and struggling to mutter out how he’d thought you’d never ask, fuck.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Cumplay

While Sanemi will bend to your whims almost always in bed, there are a few very, very specific things that he won’t compromise on.

That is, he absolutely must finish either inside you, down your throat, or on your body. It’s a possessiveness thing for him – he’s in ecstasy and still slightly shocked that you’re touching him (and letting him touch you), but it’s still not quite enough. He’s licking and sucking at your neck, leaving marks and hickies and the imprint of his fingertips lightly against your skin, trying to mark you up as his his his. He wants to leave a physical imprint of his possession over you, because while it feels dehumanizing to think of you as his, he can’t help the way it makes something in his chest twist in just the right way, nor can he help the way his cock stands up at attention, growing hard just at the mere idea of physically making you his.

And Sanemi quickly finds the quickest, easiest way to claim you as his is to leave you absolutely dripping with his cum. He’s territorial, completely believing that you’re his woman and he is your man. It’s this possessiveness mixed with his obsession over being your protector that drive his compulsive need to fill you with every last drop he can give you – it feels better this way, more natural. It’s like he’s giving you what you desire – he’s giving you everything he can, the most intimate, sacred part of him, something he made for you and you alone.

And so, every time he’s got hic cock out and your kissing, sucking, touching, or fucking it, Sanemi’s throwing his head back and groaning, all sorts of filthy, dirty promises about how he’s going to finish for you falling past his lips.

He’ll have you on your knees, his thighs tense and his abs clenching, his hand in your hair and fighting very, very hard to not pull you down until his cock’s in the back of your throat, choking and gagging you. (He wants to – god does he want to, but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’ll stop himself. A mind-numbing orgasm with your hot little tongue pressed against his underside isn’t worth you being angry or hurt.) He's groaning your name and telling you that that you’re gonna – fuck, gonna take it all, yeah? Gonna swallow every last fucking drop, o-oh fucky baby, god wanna see you swallow ngh –

Your hand is wrapped around his girth, wrist flicking up and down so quickly that it makes him pant, your free hand delicately groping and squeezing at his balls. He’s bucking up against your tugs, a red flush on the bridge of his nose as he grunts, rushing forward to kiss you with way too much tongue, pulling back only when he starts shuddering, breath ragged as he tells you that he wants to finish on your chest, voice getting slurred and strained as he tells you he’s gonna come on your tits, god so fucking pretty fuck fuck fuck –

(He’ll stare with this sort of boyish look in his eye and something feral, predatory at his handiwork once he does, white smeared across your skin and leaving a film that he rubs at with his thumb, pinching your nipple and licking his lips when you squirm.)

He’s got you pressed into a tight, suffocating mating press, his forehead pressed against yours and his hands holding your knees up, the angle and feeling of you making teeter on the edge. ‘M gonna, ‘m gonna come soon, where do you want it? He’ll ask, eyes fluttering shut as you clench down on him, only to open wide when you whine out to finish inside ‘Nemi, please please please want your cum!

And it’s lewd and dirty and it gets him fucking into you deeper, hips snapping into yours so hard that you’re physically moving up the length of the bed, his voice a growl as he grins, groaning yeah? Want me to come in this tight – fuck, tight little pussy? So damn greedy, fuuuuck, you better take it, don’t let any drip out or I’ll have to fill you again. He’ll press kisses against your lips, jaw, and neck, his voice growing louder as he growl again between each kiss.

And when he’s right on the edge, his thrusts growing uneven and choppy, his eyes are meeting yours again as he gasps take it take it take it, cum spurting from his tip and leaving you feeling warm and so very, very full. He produces a lot with each orgasm, seeming to never stop as it oozes from his hyper-sensitive tip, and Sanemi uses it to his advantage.

He’s obsessed with looking at the product of his orgasm – he’ll kneel between your legs so that your cunt’s eyelevel and simply stare as his cum slowly leaks out, down the grooves of your folds and over your pert hole, dripping onto the floor below you and making him scoff. He’ll scoop it up with a single finger, pushing it back inside of you and kissing you to muffle the sound of your surprise, slightly embarrassed because he absolutely can’t let even the smallest amount not end up inside you.

When you’ve convinced him to be a tad bit rougher as you bob your head between his legs, Sanemi will grant your wish and finish on your face, groaning and biting his lip at the way you look, his cum dribbling down from your lips to your chin, dripping down to land on your nipples, thighs, other parts of your body.

(And as disrespectful as it felt to finish there, Sanemi secretly loves it – he won’t request it because he doesn’t think you’d enjoy it, but he’s nursing a fantasy that you’ll let him smear his cum all over your lips and cheeks, and then simply not clean it for the rest of the day. He wants the physical evidence of his intimacy with you to be constantly visible, so that every glance reminders him that you wanted him, that you were practically begging him for his cock like some common whore. You aren’t, or course, but the possessive, animalistic part of him that desires rough, carnal sex with you is satisfied by the idea, something primal about the idea of leaving a mark of him him him against your pretty face. He’ll never bring it up, simply stewing on it in silence, but if you were to mention the idea, or tell him that you want to keep his cum really anywhere against your skin, you’ll witness something that absolutely mortifies him – a dry orgasm paired with a sad, shocked little whimper, the embarrassment and unexpected pleasure making him too ashamed to even look at you for a few hours afterwards.)

He just really likes the concept of leaving you stuffed full of him. (And there’s a small part of him that hopes desperately with every load he gives you that it’ll finally take. He’s always fantasized about having a family with you, but with each time he stuffs you full, he can only get closer and closer to the dream, the mere idea of you pregnant enough to get him hot under the collar and desperate to get his hands on you.)

And to his credit, this kink goes both ways – he’ll gladly let you cover every inch of his skin in your spit and slick, rubbing yourself against his body and licking at him until you’ve had your fill.

(And fuck, if you squirt? He’s wearing it like a badge of honor, pride and arousal coursing through him in such potent amounts that he’s nearly dizzy, nearly unable to function because god he needs to fuck you and make you do that over and over again until you can’t anymore.)

He’s just possessive, and while you might initially be rather disgusted simply by his eagerness and fixation on it, eventually you might even find it hot, too. Because really, he may be deranged, a stalker, horribly and uncomfortably dependent on you for his emotional stability and health, but isn’t there something so very sexy about a grown man moaning in your ear and begging you to please let him finish inside you?

Voyeurism

Perhaps it’s a remnant of having stalked you for so long, but there’s something that gets Sanemi so fucking hard about watching you pleasure yourself.

There’s layers to it – of course he loves the physical sight of you with your fingers stuffed into your cunt, tits spilling out of your lounging shirt, thighs quivering and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ shape that Sanemi wants to fill with his fingers. He loves the way you look all fucked out, pretty and writhing and gasping, letting all your natural sounds out because there’s not a soul around to hear you and you can be truly free. So yes, from a purely carnal, sexual standpoint, Sanemi very much enjoys the sight of you touching yourself.

But even beyond that, there’s something morbidly fascinating and addicting about it – there’s something indescribably intimate about watching you at your most vulnerable, those lilac eyes widening and staying transfixed on every aspect of you that he can. He’s watching like a hawk as you squeeze at your breast, watching to see if you pinch at your nipple or roll it, if you squeeze hard and hold it there or opt for weaker but more frequent squeezes.

He’s carefully watching your fingers, analyzing the patterns and shapes you’re drawing against your clit, how fast you’re going and whether you vary anything or keep it all consistent.

(He’ll even press his fingers against the expanse of his forearm as he watches, mimicking your motions against his own skin in an effort to practice, to learn by muscle memory exactly how you like to be touched so that once he gets you naked and spread out for him, he can be exactly what you want and give you exactly what you need. He’ll do this with the way you finger yourself, too, guessing at the particular angles you’re reaching for based on the way your wrist flexes, how your knuckles move. He’ll go home and practice this, too, using his pillow as a poor stand-in for your body and practicing thrusting in the pattern you seem to like, angling his hips to brush against the spot that always gets you gasping, buffing up his stamina because he’ll be damned if the first time he gets you naked underneath him is thwarted by his own physical inabilities.)

It helps him feel connected to you like this – easier to pretend that he’s the one making you moan and curl your toes rather than your own hand or the toy you’d purchased for yourself.

(A toy that he absolutely fucking hates, always glaring at it and scoffing because he’s sure that he could fuck you so much better – he’d get the angle right, he’d get the depth perfect, and he’d do all the damn work – you just need to lay there and look pretty, grasp onto him and moan his name and he’ll take care of the rest. He'll always take care of you, after all, and he wants the sex to be absolutely perfect, for you to crave him even a fraction as much as he craves you.)

And even once he’s forced to steal you away, these habits of peeping in on you while you’re lost in your own little world don’t magically disappear. It’s more difficult now, sure, because standing and peering through your window was always easier, always less risky, but Sanemi becomes too desperate and in withdrawal to stop himself.

His lucidity leaves him feeling guilty every time, but he’ll crack the door into your room open ever so slightly, having returned home from a mission or an errand earlier than he’d told you. He’ll peek in, doing his best to move slowly and silently to avoid grabbing your attention, and he’s immediately got his hand in his pants, gripping himself so tightly and harshly that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

His orgasms are always stronger when he’s got you in his sight, and as he times his strokes with your thrusts inside yourself, he’s clenching his abs and shaking, hips coming up to thrust and rut against his fist. He’s staying deathly quiet, intent on hearing the sound of your moans and the wet squelching of your cunt sucking your fingers in again and again. And when he comes, he’s praying that you’ll finish at the same time, forcing himself to stop and endlessly edging himself just so that you can come together, to have something romantic and sweet like a simultaneous release.

(Of course, the aftermath of cum staining the front of his trousers and his upper thighs is less sweet, but Sanemi can’t quite care – even as it dries and grows cold, feeling slimy and sticky against his skin. He’s too transfixed watching the way your chest slowly stops heaving, how you relax and bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, how you idly play with your nipples and smile up at the ceiling, and if he tries harder enough - pretends hard enough, really - he can even hear you murmur his name.)

The intention is relatively sweet, no matter how deranged and creepy he may feel for actively spying on you as you undress, but he’s just a man, and how can a man be expected to deny himself the viewing pleasure of the woman he’s so madly, pathetically obsessed with?

But unfortunately for Sanemi, you’re not as oblivious as he hopes – you’ll notice the way he lingers at your door, his occasional soft, shuddering gasps not going unheard even over the sound of your own moans. You’ll see his shadow against the door panels, even seeing the shadow of his cock when he pulls it out of his pants, the mere sight making your orgasm hurtle closer and closer, even despite your shame at finding your kidnapper’s cock arousing.

You’re not blind, and it’s almost therapeutic to watch how easily he falls apart for you, the shadow of his back hunching over slightly as you both near your ends, the wet squelching sounds of his fist going up and down just barely audible if you strain yourself hard enough. It’s endearing, in a fucked-up sort of way, but if you were to ever mention something about it, Sanemi will immediately bristle, embarrassment crawling up his spine and his cheeks glowing a soft, subtle pink, entirely caught off guard and unsure of what to say.

(He’s mortified that you know, that he’d been caught, if only because now he’s absolutely convinced you must think of him as a pervert, as a monster, and it kills him to know that it’s true. And yet, there’s some small, masochistic part of him that’s almost glad, finding the whole situation so, so very hot because now he can’t help but wonder if you’d started touching yourself on purpose, perhaps wanting to draw him out, perhaps wanting to listen to him losing his fucking mind over your naked body. You naughty, naughty thing.)

And so, once your consensual sexual relationship begins, Sanemi is using every piece of knowledge he’d gathered from watching you to his advantage – he’s not wasting any time putting all that practice into use, curling his fingers and rubbing and kneading just how you like it, watching with wide, almost nervous eyes to see how you react, hoping that he’s doing good and making you enjoy it, enjoy him.

He wants you to tell him how it feels, to hear you say that it’s good, that you love it when you touch me ‘Nemi, and that alone gets him doubling in his efforts, frantic to get you to orgasm for him and only him, filled with a sort of crazed need to be the one to finally, finally bring you your high.

And as time passes, you’ll notice that Sanemi tends to bring this kink into the bedroom, too, even when you’re fully aware of his presence – he’ll tell you to touch yourself, settling across the bed, and slowly fisting at his cock, licking his lips and watching with rapt attention as you spread your legs, playing with yourself and humming his name.

But it’s not quite the same as when you were alone, though, and Sanemi will tell you to act like I’m not here, don’t make shit up or fake your moans. He wants the authenticity, the rawness, the realness of you fully indulging in yourself.

It’s in these moments that you’ll see the more submissive side of Sanemi – the small part of him that absolutely loves when you ignore his existence, pretending he’s not fisting his cock like a madman simply to the sight, smell, and sound of you. He likes the way that you’re not paying him any mind, completely focused on yourself, Sanemi merely a bystander and watching you. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s in these moments that his obsession only further solidifies, his feelings for you growing stronger and latching into him deeper, like claws that make him shiver in pain-tinged pleasure. Because really, he can only consider himself lucky and cruelly blessed for getting to see you like this, for being allowed so close to you as you gush on your fingers and pinch at your nipples. It’s an honor, even if that explanation makes you shift uncomfortably and try to ignore the reverent look in his eye.

You’re just so damn pretty, can he really be blamed for wanting to stare and stare and stare?

Marking

While hyper fixated on your health and safety in every aspect of his obsession, one area where he’s ever so slightly lenient is in bed. He’ll outright refuse to do anything that draws blood or involves hitting you, but there’s something rather tempting about the idea of leaving a trace of himself after he spends hours upon hours getting you to come on his fingers and cock.

He likes the reminder that he’d been able to pleasure you, the feeling enough to get you moaning and clawing at his back and whining his name. And so, Sanemi develops a liking for leaving all sorts of hickeys and love bites all over your body.

He’s passionate when he fucks you, leaving kisses on every inch of skin he can reach and grasping onto you tightly enough that sometimes bruises appear.

(And he feels guilty for it, in the beginning, always scowling when he sees them the next day. But alongside the guilt there’s something good – something that makes him smug, pride settling in his gut because those are his fingermarks on your body, showing that he attends to your more intimate needs. Reminding him that you let him attend to those needs – that you let him kiss and hold you, that you let him squeeze and grope at your skin, that you let him spread your legs and push himself inside until he’s filling every possible inch of you, connected with you in the most raw, natural way. It’s romantic, almost, and it makes Sanemi squirm slightly just thinking about it because oh fuck, now he’s hard again and really you should take some accountability for showing off your collarbone and the barrage of hickeys like that…)

He’s not picky about where or how he does it, either – what you’ll mostly be covered in are hickeys, the dark spots dancing in patterns all along your neck, shoulders, collarbone, inner thighs, and even your stomach and ass. His favorite is your neck, though. He likes the way you get all breathless when he kisses and sucks and licks at the skin, the sensations making your breath go light and airy against his ear, the harsh puffs of air blowing against the tufts of white hair on his head.

And he’ll leave all over your neck – at the juncture at your jaw, sucking a few right below your ear.

(He’ll take a few moments to lightly nibble and bite at your earlobe, liking the way you whine his name and tell him to stop being weird, but it’s endearing, the way you clearly like it and are just saying that to keep up images. Silly girl.)

He’ll flutter kisses along the column of your neck, tracing your windpipe and smiling against your skin when you swallow heavily. He’ll suck dark hickeys into the flesh of your shoulders, the soft slope the perfect canvas for him to leave littered with his marks. Sometimes he’ll randomly pick spots, the final result looking a little unorganized but still enough to make his heart swell and his breathing to get heavier. Other times he’ll very strategically place them – spelling out an ‘s’ character or a heart or something sappy that leaves him feeling a bit embarrassed but he just can’t help it.

Your neck is his favorite because of the intimacy and the difficulty of hiding the particularly high ones, but your inner thighs are a very close second. When he settles onto his stomach and spreads your legs, mouth hovering over your cunt and his warm breath making you twitch, he’ll take his time kissing up the space from your knee to your pelvis, taking the skin between his teeth and lightly nibbling, pressing dark sucks against the area and loving the way you squirm underneath his rather harsh grip on your thighs.

He’s a tease once he grows confident in the fact that you crave intimacy with him, loving the way you get desperate and beg him to give you what he knows you need. (He’d watched you with enough consistency and thoroughness for all those months before stealing you away and now he knows your tells – the way your face looks, how you sound, how your body jerks and shakes, hell, even the way you smell when you get close.)

He’ll push you right up to the edge, fingers working magic in a come hither motion against that spongey spot inside of you that makes your whole body tense in pleasure, all while his thumb is rubbing circles at your clit that leave you bucking your hips and chanting out his name. He’ll get you right there, then pull back, going back to your inner thigh and working on a fresh, new hickey, the loss of stimulation making you pout and whine for him to touch you again.

He’ll only roll his eyes, pulling back with a loud thwap noise as the suction breaks, your slick still visible on his lips, chin, and cheeks. So demanding, he’ll start, sending a sharp brush of his fingers over your clit that gets you gasping.

He’ll hold out for a while longer, milking out the way you plead with him, before he’ll eventually give in and get back to your neglected cunt, bringing you to your high and rutting at the bed below him with the way you writhe and cry out. And for the next few days, every time he sees that particular hickey he’s suddenly way too red, sweaty and panting and growing more desperate by the second to give you more more more, wanting your whole body to be evidence of his presence in both your life and your bed.

And he’ll proudly wear any marks you make on his body, too – leave hickeys and love bites against his skin and he’ll only shiver and let his eyes roll to the back of his head. He’ll encourage you to run your nails down the expanse of his back when he’s got you in missionary or a press, growling your name as his hips fuck into you harder, faster, with more intent and purpose.

(And later, when he’s dressing himself and happens to see himself in a mirror, he can only gulp, thumb tracing along the scratch marks and blemishes left behind from you. It makes him giddy, often absentmindedly running a finger over them while he travels to missions, during pointless conversation, during times when he’s away on a mission and starting to think himself into a panic about how you’re doing, if you’re safe, if you’ve escaped him somehow. It calms him and only kindles his feelings for you, the knowledge of you willingly leaving your mark on him enough to get him licking his lips and palming himself over his pants, trying to restrain himself so that he can get you to leave newer, fresher marks.)

He just likes the idea, and while he’d never bite you hard enough to cause genuine pain or give you a hickey so deep that it hurt, he will be marking you from head to toe so that everyone you come into contact with (no one besides him, really, but that’s besides the point) cannot deny that you are Sanemi Shinazugawa’s woman.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Slapping

But in a very, very specific way – Sanemi treasures you, idolizing and worshipping you to the point of self-loathing, and consequently he’s not terribly mean in bed. Once a steady sexual relationship is established between the two of you, he’ll get more vocal and adventurous, adapting to what you like.

(And he’s willing to do just about anything you want of him sexually – he’ll get on his knees and kiss up your thighs, lapping and sucking at your cunt until you have to physically push him off of you, slick smeared across his lips, cheeks, and chin while he stares up at you, equal parts hazed and irritated that you’d pulled him away. He’ll let you climb on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head and letting you play with his cock until he’s near tears, the edging and phantom touches making him grit and groan, desperation eating away at him because your touch feels so good but oh – it’s the attention you’re giving to him that ultimately makes him paint your fist white.)

And though he’s not naturally inclined to be degrading towards you during sex, there’s one stark exception – that is, there’s something that makes the possessiveness and territorial feelings Sanemi harbors for you flare up when he smacks you with his cock. Nothing too hard, of course – the intention isn’t to hurt you or bruise you, but rather it’s like staking his claim on you.

It’s like showing you that you belong to him – he’ll grip himself at the base, biting his lip and flexing his arm as he shifts his weight, hovering over you and smacking his fat, soaked tip against your pretty, puffy clit, stifling a groan at the way you jerk at the contact.

He’s smacking himself against your folds, the wet and tacky noise making his fingers tighten against the pillow under your head, his breath getting heavier because fuck, you look so damn pretty underneath him like this, reactive to his cock even when it’s not inside of you.

He’s tracing his tip against your lips when you’re on your knees for him, whispered chants of your name falling from his lips as he lightly taps his tip against your cheeks, your lips, your outstretched tongue.

(And, after he smacks himself against your tongue, if you smile and giggle ever so slightly? Well, don’t be surprised when he stiffens up, his orgasm crashing through him after a mere minute of your hot, wet mouth around him. Don’t be surprised when he starts cursing and murmuring things under his breath right on the brink of his high, your name mixing with gravely I love you’s as he gives you rope after rope after rope of his cum, hot and potent and made with only you in mind.)

He just likes the physical action of it, the way that even something so small gives him the slightest bit of acknowledgement that you’re his, that you’re here and touching him and looking at him just as he’s been fantasizing of for so long. It’s hot, he thinks, and while he’d be extremely reluctant to actually hit you during sex, he’s rubbing and smacking his cock against every inch of your body that he can – your face, your ass, your tits (he especially loves to rub his cum-soaked tip against your nipples, watching as they get hard and get glossy in the candlelight), your thighs, hell, even your arms.

He wants to claim every part of you, and so between covering you in his cum and the imprint of his cock, you’ll be fully and utterly his.

Spitting

Again, it’s a possessive thing – tying into his desire to mark you as his and only his, Sanemi grows a penchant for spitting. It’s something he harshly avoids when you first begin your intimate relationship, finding the act too disrespectful and frankly gross to partake in. He’s worried you’ll find it derogatory and that you’ll see him as some misogynistic freak who views you as his property.

(Which is, in some ways, ever so slightly true – he does see you as his, but it’s reciprocal. You’re his just as much as he’s yours, and if you want to think about in such a crude, black-and-white way, then yes – he sees you as his property. But he’s your property, too, if it makes you feel any better.)

And frankly, he won’t bother indulging in the kink unless you initially bring it up – he’s too tied down to this philosophy and he doesn’t want to risk you getting disgusted or turned off when he’s touching you.

But if you bring it up and use a lot of ‘please’ and compliments, Sanemi will cave.

It’s awkward the first few times, hovering over you and perched on his elbows, nose scrunching slightly because he’s not sure how to do this in a way he thinks will be sexy for you. He wants to live up to your fantasy, so he presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, collecting the saliva, before puckering his lips, letting the glob fall with a rather obnoxious noise.

Your mouth’s already open for him, tongue lightly sticking out and your eyes half-lidded with lust, and the mere sight alone makes Sanemi gulp, scared he might accidentally drool into your mouth.

(Though, perhaps you’d like that – you’re a freak, he thinks, but it still makes his cheeks feel hot, his cock jumping against your thigh, his Adam’s apple harshly bobbing.)

It’s in the moment when he watches his spit land on your tongue, pretty lips closing and the swallowing motion you make exaggerated and loud. He’ll pause, staring down at your lips in a daze, before suddenly telling you to do that again, the sight so strangely erotic that he needs to do it again and again and again.

It strokes something in his ego – some sort of feeling of dominance and claim on you, marking his territory by making sure you’ve got a little piece of him in you. Soon he’s cupping your jaw every time your clothes get stripped off, forcing your lips to open and immediately spitting onto your tongue, watching with hazy eyes and a small smirk as you obediently swallow, the sight never failing to get him even more eager to spread your legs and sink inside of you.

It gets to the point where it even becomes a non-sexual thing sometimes – it feels too good to be showing such an obvious sign of claim on you that he’ll slowly kiss you in the mornings, your soft lips and little sighs making him light-headed. He’ll pull back, his morning voice hoarse and gravely as he tells you to open up, immediately spitting into your open mouth and following it up with a few kisses against your jaw, a murmur of good morning.

He likes to start the day with it because it puts him into a good mood – a light, peaceful one, quelling the jealous, anxious worry that you’ll leave him, that you’ll be snatched up by another man, that you hate him.

And his fixation for spitting doesn’t just end at your mouth – he’ll spit onto your cunt when he’s kneeling between your legs, two thick fingers rubbing the fluid against your pretty folds, taking extra care to let it lubricate his fingertips before he presses quick, steady little circles against your clit.

He’ll spit into his own hand, coating his fingers and slowly pressing them into you, grunting at the way you gasp out and tighten impossibly around them. It’s lubrication, he thinks, and the idea of his saliva being in your pussy makes him shiver, the thought so dirty and taboo and so very good.

And he’d be happy if you wanted to return the favor – he’ll look at you expectantly, irritation evident in his gaze, before he sits down and forces you to stand over him, his own mouth open and awaiting. He likes it for all the same reasons, just reversed – he likes the idea of you wanting to stake your claim on him. He wants to feel wanted and cherished by you, and if you were to spit into his mouth it’d be direct evidence that you want him, at least in a sexual capacity.

It’s thrilling, frankly, and it leaves Sanemi eagerly swallowing, immediately attacking you with passionate, needy kisses and wandering hands that swiftly find purchase in groping at your ass.

He just thinks it’s romantic, and he’ll do everything in his power to win points with you. Anything to get you liking him more, craving him more.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

Despite holding status as both a Hashira and your captor, Sanemi is very, very shy about asking you for any sort of deviation in the bedroom. It’s a combination of things that hold him back – fear of rejection, mainly, but also embarrassment because he’s worried that you’ll think he’s strange for wanting to try certain things.

Namely, Sanemi desperately, desperately wants you to sit on his face.

He has no sexual experience and hadn’t even been aware this was an option until he’d accidentally overheard a conversation between Uzui and a (very uncomfortable) Giyuu, and while he’s ashamed to admit it he’d stuck around, eavesdropping just around the corner as Giyuu asked the older man what exactly that meant (only to very quickly regret it, his cheeks flushing a light pink and not even bothering to make up an excuse as he hurried away).

It’s where the woman sits down on the man’s face, giving him better access to pleasure her with his mouth! It’s quite flashy, and a good view, too.

Sanemi had been flustered at his words, too, but had spent the whole day struggling to get the thought out of his head. Fantasies about eating you out and making you fall apart with just his tongue and fingers had long been circling through his head, keeping him up at night and forcing him to wrap calloused fingers around his cock, holding the scrap of fabric from your kimono he’d managed to snag between his teeth, groaning and growling at the mere thought of what you taste like.

But this?

This is risqué, vulgar, perhaps even crude – and something he grows more and more antsy to try with each passing day, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on your thighs, biting his lip and imagining the way they’d feel around his head.

He generally likes sexual positions and scenarios where you’re getting most of the pleasure, genuinely getting off on the idea of being useful to you in the bedroom. And he finds the idea of being so surrounded by you – his sight, his hearing, his taste, his smell – enticing, loving the idea that he gets to spoil you by working at you for hours and letting you ride his face, all the while getting to indulge himself in all things you.

And he truly wants you to use him – he wants you to grind your hips against the expanse of his tongue, to let your clit press against his nose and hump at it. He wants his entire lips, chin, and cheeks to be smeared with your release, to have it seep into his skin and soak in so that he has a piece of you with him always, a reminder that you let him touch you, pleasure you, that you want him.

“Are you sure about this, ‘Nemi?” You ask, biting your lip and watching as he scowls. He’s laying down in front of you, clothes thrown off to some other part of the room and his cock already half-hard, flushed a deep pink color.

He’s cocking his brow at you, embarrassment creeping up his spine. He knew you’d find this weird – stupid Tengen, giving out stupid advice.

“Yes, hurry up!” He snaps, swallowing and looking away for a moment to collect himself. Excitement and anxiety eat away at his stomach. He’s surprised you’d agreed to this, given the way he’d very haphazardly and defensively presented the idea. He’s pleased, of course, but now there’s that familiar self-imposed pressure to make sure that he preforms perfectly, that you enjoy every minute of it, that you’ll be satisfied and happy with his performance.

When you still don’t move, his scowl morphs into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, to reluctantly tell you that you don’t have to unless you want to, but your small nod and footsteps towards him snap his jaw back up.

He’s practically brimming with anticipation, fists clenched at his sides.

You step over him, slowly kneeling down and standing on your knees. You’re hesitating, shuffling forward but scared to lower yourself those last few inches, and Sanemi grumbles underneath you.

“I don’t fucking bite,” he starts, hands coming up to grip at the plush of your thighs. He guides you up further, moving you forward and forward until your cunt’s directly above him, a shaky exhale brushing against the sensitive skin of your folds and making you shiver.

“Now just sit down.” He tells you, squeezing his fingers as if imploring you to just do as he says. You lower down but still leave most of your weight on your own legs.

He inhales deeply, the sound filling the room and making you blanche, embarrassment eating away at you. Sanemi groans at the scent of you, the familiar musk making his cock throb even harder against the confines of his pants.

He’s slow when he starts – kitten licks against your clit and large, flat licks along your folds. His eyes are fixed on you’re the whole time, staring and transfixed, trying to note every minute, small change in your expression.

He’s steadily tonguing at your clit now, and a moan rips its way out of you before you can really stop it. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling of his tongue against you, his fingers pressing against your thighs, the brush of his hair against your bare skin.

But then he’s suddenly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling you down down down –

“Sanemi!” You gasp, the sensation so much stronger now that you’re flush with his face. He’s using his strength to pull you down – muscles flexing in an effort to keep you still and exactly where he wants you.

Lilac eyes stare up at you half-lidded, the taste of you clouding his senses and leaving him eagerly licking for more, slurping at you with lewd sounds that only serve to get him harder and harder.

Soon your stationary position isn’t enough, though, and he’s guiding your hips in a forwards-backwards motion, effectively grinding you against his lips and noise. Your breath catches as the action and Sanemi swears he sees stars – you’re so damn pretty, and Tengen had been right about the view. He can see your face, feel your thighs around his head, and see your pretty tits from up close.

He’s gripping onto you so tightly that you can’t even try to break the control he has over your movements – he’s pulling you across his face in a rhythm that makes your breath stutter and your hands blindly reach out to steady yourself on anything nearby. It ends up being the wall in front of you, both palms laying flat against the paneling as you pant and sigh his name. His nose is pressing against your clit, the sensation only causing you to shake as he slowly builds up your orgasm.

He pulls away for the smallest moment, licking his lips and squeezing your ass even harder, kneading at your cheeks and spreading them apart from one another. “Use me, ride my face.”

You blanch at his words, doubt settling in your chest, but at the insistent tug of your cunt back down onto his face, you can only shakily sigh, taking his advice and slowly starting to gyrate your hips. The response is immediate – a groan of satisfaction from Sanemi, his tongue efforts doubling as you control the pace, smearing your cunt against his skin and feeling like you’re suffocating him.

He’s in heaven, meanwhile, tasting you with a fervor and lightly bucking his hips, the phantom ghost of your touch through his clothing making his mind spin. You’re so damn pretty and perfect and lovely and when you’re using his face like your own personal pillow to hump and fuck, how can he complain?

He can’t, which is why he’s groaning equally as loudly as you when you reach your high a few minutes later, your shakes and shivers against his skin leaving him drooling at the sight of your back arching, tits jutting out and your thighs clenching even tighter around himself. You’re so attractive like this – all sexy and adorable even when he’s doing such filthy things to you, and it’s the sight and knowledge that he’s the one making you feel this good – that it’s his face and tongue and cheeks and body – that are getting you to violently jerk and moan his name, fresh rounds of slick dripping against his tongue and making him groan tightly against you.

And you’ll be able to tell just how much the mental and physical pictures affected him because once he’s had his share – pulling four or five orgasms out of you with just this method – there’s a distinct wet spot over his trousers, seeping across the fabric and leaving everything thick and warm with cum.

But don’t worry – there’s plenty more where that came from that he’d love to you.

Plenty.

#yandere kny #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere ds #yandere demon slayer #yandere sanemi #yandere sanemi shinazugawa #yandere sanemi shinazugawa x reader #_kny #_sanemi shinazugawa #_lee's profiles #kny smut #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa smut

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jiinxswife · 1 month ago

Text

Choosing you Jinx x Fem!reader

warnings: season 2 spoilhers, jinx choosing reader over ekko, reader being insecure and jealous of ekko, crying autor note: this is pretty much some short of part two of how would they meet, but you can read this post without having to read the first one, just another silly drabble of mine

autor note: this is for us, weird girlies who feel jealous of ekko and want jinx for oursevles. lets have a treat

jinx will be written on blue, reader on pink

Hallucinations will be written on red

you dont quite to know when or how you found out about him, probably it was due to Jinx's mentdown rambles, how she said his name, how it was "always a dance with her", before her breakdown was again, over her death family. you tried not to think about it, after all, he was probably just her childhood boyfriend or something, who would be jealous of that? you've had childhood boyfriends yourself, and you definitely woulnd't leave jinx for them, so why are you so scared of him coming back to her life?

you try not to fuzz or think much about it over the next weeks, the last thing you need is your girlfriend to think that now she can't vent or express her feelings to you because you can get sad\hurt over things she says or feels, it was hard enough to get her to emotionally trust you, you don't want to fuck things up

You hide your feelings well, even from you, until one day, you caught yourself biting your just-made nails, taking off parts of the nail polish, that matches jinx’s and tearing up while jinx was showering, allowing, even if only for some minutes, anxiety and fear to consume you. When you hear the water noise ceasing, you quickly wipes your tears and takes some deep breaths, calming down before jinx entered in the room, clean and fresh

“ugh , toots, I think you should wash my hair tomorrow, I don’t wash it was well as you do” she says, but her untouched, dry braids show that she didn’t even try to and just wanted you to spoil her

“Sure thing, love” you answer, earning an eyebrow raise from her, probably surprised at your lack of teasing and snark answers. Her eyes go all over you, searching for any sign of injury or sickness before she stares at your hands, noticing the state of your nails, and, knowing that they were made not so long ago, she was able to deduce that you are worried about something since whenever you were, you would pick on them. She walks to you and sits down on the bed, by your side, wrapping an arm around you, hand softly squeezing your shoulder, in an act to remind herself that you’re real, not an hallucination

“Toots? What’s wrong? You seem off” she questions, before you wave her off with a smile “I’m fine, just extra tired today” you say, ignoring how dry your throat is starting to feel just for being asked if something is wrong

“Yeah, fine my ass” jinx says, rolling her eyes and bitting her lower lip in an attempt to decide what to do “don’t lie to me, what’s wrong?”

You close your hands into fists; bitting your lower lip, habit you got from the girl sat by your side. You look away, in an attempt to not cry “it’s stupid and“ before you could finish, jinx softly hits you on the head with the arm that was previously wrapped around you “if you’re crying, it’s not stupid” she tries to add a playful smile “and I think my girlfriend is smarter then to cry over stupid things” jinx sighs when she doesn’t have a positive answer from you, her smile fades and she opens her mouth to speak before you cut her off “you wouldn’t leave me, would you?”

“You’re not giving her enough” “you are not good enough” “you’re not worth of her love”

Milo’s, Claggor’s and Silco’s voice echoes through Jinx’s head, making her mind fuzzy and unable to think of an answer “I- you- fuck” you feel tears starting to form on your face “I heard you speaking sometimes about a guy named Ekko” you look down, tears falling down on your lap “how it’s ‘always a face with him’” you face your girlfriend for the first time since you started talking, your eyes filled with tears, showing insecurity and vulnerability “if he came back to your life, you wouldn’t leave me for him; would you?”

Your words take Jinx out of guard, she tries to answer, but once more you cut her off “I know how you didn’t quite want me in your life, I remember how you tried to get rid of me and how hard it was- you stop yourself, looking away and you tearing up even more, your overthinking becoming a mess of feelings and words inbuilt head- hard for you to fall for me, and hearing about that Ekko guy started to make me think that maybe all of that was because you were waiting for him to come back, and you’re just with me because you lost hope but can still leave me if he comes back” you rub your templates as you cry, moving to wipe your tears, refusing to look at Jinx “and I know it’s stupid to be jealous over someone you mentioned on a mental breakdown, and I didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want you to worry that when showing me your feelings you might hurt me” you’re embarrassed of yourself and at lost of words, wiping pathetically your own tears as jinx moves to hug you, embracing you completely “I’m so sorry”

“Fuck.. toots, look” she mumbles her voice a bit hoarse from the tension and meaning of the moment, she was never able to express herself well with words “yeah, I guess I did short of like Ekko once,” she sighs, thinking of a manner to decode her feelings into words “but not like how i like you. I had a crush on him when we were kids, but then we stayed without talking for seven years” she says as she manages to hug you even more “and once we reunited” she chuckles, a mix of a bitter chuckle and a lighthearted one “well, it was to try to kill each other, and then to … stop me from doing a big shit” you look at her, trembling, hurt, vulnerable, but obviously wanting, no, needing to believe jinx “I’m not in love with him, toots. I’m..” she sighs, saying that was never easy for her “I’m in love with you, okay? I wouldn’t be dating you otherwise. It took me long to fall for you” she softly kiss the top of your head “longer then it should, but I’m smitten. I won’t leave you for anyone, much less for Ekko”

she grabs one of your hands and softly squeeze it while still hugging you “and that thing about worrying that I might worry about hurting when I vent to you, it’s okay, I won’t worry. You are allowed to feel hurt to.” She chuckles and smiles at you “heh! That was a lot of “worry” for just a phrase, right, hun?” She jokes, getting a soft chuckle from you

“I- thank you. I love you” you say to your girlfriend, hugging her tightly as you close your eyes, letting your last tears fall before being consumed by a feeling of love and comfort “same for you; toots; same for ya”

#jinx x y/n #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane zaun #arcane #oc x canon #canon x oc #canon x reader #canon x you

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d34dlysinner · 5 months ago

Note

This is just a funny thought I had, but have ya ever done that school prank where ya jab two fingers into someone's waist/sides from behind?my school called it Taser

Some of the whb guys (Marbas) just have their waists out and vulnerable. Imagine just jabbing their waists and trying to run away afterwards, some of them probably laugh while others squeak. I just remembered being the target of this often cause I didn't really react lol.

okay this is a funny thought will mention some of the boys in here (the kings and right hands and some extra boys)

Satan felt two little fingers jab into his waist and turned around thinking that someone was challenging him in a disrespectful way. It was only till he saw that it was you that he calmed down and sighed. He gave you a warm smile and asked what your goals were by poking him like that. He didn't mind the reason eventually mostly because it was you. He did the same later during the day when you were off guard. Laughing when you were shocked. Sitri jumped a little before putting his teacup down. "MC... I'm happy you'd think it's funny to partake in these activities, but maybe you've interacted with Leraye too much?", is all he would say before giving you a small smile. "Though I wouldn't mind you touching me again." Mammon didn't even feel you jab into his waist. He only noticed that you were there, because he heard someone wincing in pain. Concerned he asked you what happened only to laugh at how you injured yourself. "If you want attention you can always demand my time.", he says before carrying you around Tartaros yet again. Bimet flinched a little but looked back at you with the most sarcastic face he could pull off. "If you have time poking people you should have time managing your bank account.", he says as he believes that you can always better spend your time earning money. He will sigh and pat your head after he noticed that your mood was low after he gave you a lecture. Valefor would smile and pat your head before asking your plans for the day. Maybe you'd want to spend it with him since you're here already? Leviathan he flinched and gave you a nasty look. "Why did you do that?", he would ask as he becomes sceptical to your reasoning for poking him. "You shouldn't do that when I'm working at least." He says before he walks off. At least he wouldn't hang you for something like that. Glasyalabolas ignored you. He just walked off and later, he would return to you to do the same to you... when you're taking a nap. Foras turned around and gave you a smile saying he didn't mind the poke. Later during the entire day you would feel random pokes of him. And you know it's him because it's always when you're alone and you feel someone poking you but you see no one. "There's no fun in it if you can see me."

Beelzebub instantly returned the gesture and made it a habit. Have fun with him poking you every time he visits you. Bael was too busy to care at the moment. Later on, when he's taking a break, will he ask you why you would poke him. Amon woke up from his usual nap and dragged you into his arms. He would poke you once before napping with you in his arms. Stolas yelped and turned around with a light blush on his face. He was about to point his gun and hurl insults your way until he realized that it was you. "Don't ever do that again.", is all he said before giving you a light huff and walking away. Lucifer stared at you with a blank expression as you stood there expecting a bit more from him. You didn't get a reaction out of him but definitely got one from the snake on his jacket. "Sorry", you whisper to the snake as you awkwardly excused yourself. Marbas noticed you poking him but didn't say anything apart from "I'm busy right now." Plus he is tied up. he wouldn't be able to do a lot to you to begin with. Gamigin jumped and his chimes were making a lot of noise. "MC! You scared me for a second...", he said before giving you a smile. He gave you a poke afterward. Morax would see you approach him. He would question what you were doing. He saw some hesitation in your actions and asked what was troubling you. When you explained that you wanted to poke him he understood your hesitation. "A little poke wouldn't hurt me if you're worrying about that.", he said as he gave you a little smile. Belphegor continued sleeping. You knew you wouldn't get a reaction out of him unless you do it constantly for a few minutes. He would warn you once. If you do it again he would send you back to Gehenna. Beleth would smile and most likely would flirt with you. Just for entertainment but if the flirting leads to something else (something more steamy) then he wouldn't mind it. Andrealphus gave you a smile before holding your hands. "Instead of poking me you could hold my hand like this. That way I can also know that it's you."

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb thoughts #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb beel #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb belphegor #whb kings #whb nobles #sam thoughts #whb asks #whb fanfic

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dc418writes · 5 months ago

Text

Trial & Error

Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest

🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*

“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.

He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.

It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.

“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.

“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.

“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”

“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”

His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”

You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”

“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.

“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. “Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”

Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.

“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”

Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.

Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”

His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”

As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.

“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”

“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”

His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“I can warm a bottle.”

“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”

“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”

“By crushing me with your big ass?!”

You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.

Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.

“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.

He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”

“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”

A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.

Such a daddy’s girl through and through.

It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.

His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”

You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”

“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”

“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.

Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”

“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”

“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.

For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.

You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.

A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.

‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x woc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal #joel sat on me 2024

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starguardianniom · 1 month ago

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Harumasa's health after his agent story

Let's be real here, his master's cure definitely changed things for him.

Probably in both a good and bad way.

Good because it literally saved his life and most likely bought him time so he might actually see past 26, though that's my headcanon since the game makes it clears that even the doctors have no ideas either.

Bad because well, it definitely most likely changes Harumasa's habits and gives him probably even more fear and anxiety to worry about.

Hear me out.

Harumasa is used to taking a lot of pills and most likely knows the patterns to his illness by now.

But with this cure he injected into himself?

It probably will change a lot of things for him.

I mean, for starters, if it controls his illness well, does that means he needs to have some changes in his prescriptions? Will he have new symptoms or something?

I can imagine Harumasa freaked the hell out when he awoke in the hospital after dealing with Kirishima and wondered what the heck was going on and how was he still alive because he was pretty sure he was a goner.

And then when his doctors told him he got better on his own he probably had a little mental breakdown because no way that happened and the doctors must have found a miracle treatment or something because his illness was really killing him there and with his master's "drug" he definitely thought of himself as a dead man.

Later, when finally getting through his head that he is really alive and well, he starts freaking out more because for once he doesn't hurt anywhere and it's probably the healthiest he's ever been and given he was on death's door he can't help but be extremely paranoid about his being alive and well and is scared to hell and back about what it means. Like did his illness mutate when he injected himself the drug? Is it just the calm before the storm? Is he about to get much worse? Could he suddently have worse symptoms than before? I imagine him being afraid of suddently having a seizure just like that because of the drug.

Also I see him not being in the best mental state when he wakes up because he just had about the most stressful week of his life, pursuing his master only to find out he turned into an ethereal right before he could find him which also means his years of searching for him for answers amounts to have been for nothing and losing the only person he could consider family after his parents abandoned him, having to fight him to the death while his illness was acting up badly, dealing with Kirishima, trying to save the kids, trying to get the drug before Kirishima, and then sacrificing himself so no one else would suffer like he did and to stop Kirishima for good, and then miraculously surviving and being healthier than he can remember most likely. His survival is something that happens in movies, not to him and not in real life, but the facts are there and he can't refute them so he does lose his mind a bit about it before he finally calms down.

So I headcanon that the first couple of days he stayed in the hospital and the others he stayed at home to get time to process everything before going back to work to be warmly welcomed back by his teammates and the proxy.

I bet he had a long talk about his doctor about how to proceed forward since his miraculous brush with death, like should they change his prescription, should he takes more or less pills, should he probably retire, should he takes a long vacation, and probably wanted to be tested for everything thrice just to be sure that there would be no surprises.

You're not gonna make me believe he was just fine after almost dying, he probably really was scared out of his mind afterwhat and only pulled through after much reassurances from the doctors that he was doing fine for now and that he could relax.

I mean, in his place I would be scared beyond belief as well, given the situation.

I should probably try to make a fic about it, unless someone else wants to do it, feel free to ask if you want it I'll happily let you have it first come first served.

#asaba harumasa #zzz harumasa #zzz asaba harumasa #zzz section 6 #zzz #zenless zone zero #zzzero #zzz headcanons

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queenbrucewayne · 2 months ago

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Not Dead

A/n: since there are so many amazing Batman, I won’t be using Gif with the stories so people can envision their favorite one while reading.

“Ya know, I could’ve had Alfred bring that.” Bruce watched Y/n close the door behind her, giving a polite smile to his PA who was gushing over the flowers she got her.

“I know, but I have to pass here to get to work anyways. Besides, it gives me an excuse to see my husband.” She smiled sweetly, putting the briefcase down on the chair across his desk.

Bruce eyes followed her, rolling back slightly in his chair where she happily sat herself across his lap. His right hand instantly went to her lower back while his left rested on her knee.

Y/n wrapped her left arm across his shoulder and started running her nails thru the back of his head, her other hand laid on top of his that was resting on her knee.

“Did you even leave this office last night?” Y/n tone was teasing.

She noticed the little bit of extra growth on his face, which to her meant that he didn’t shave this morning; and the tie she had rested on the bed for him yesterday was still on around his neck.

Bruce gave her a small smile. He had left the office yesterday, but he went straight to the bat cave and then on patrol soon after. His night was long and before he knew it, the sun was rising and he only had little time to get back to the mansion and wash off his face before his meeting this morning. He hadn’t expected to see Y/n till tonight so he didn’t bother to change his tie or shave his face. Assuming you would just think he woke up early this morning and left; not out fighting criminals and dealing with justice league business.

“I have a comfy couch, it does wonders on my back.” Bruce smirked, wondering if you would believe him yet again, or if his lies were finally catching up to him.

Seeing you rolling your eyes and smiling at his comment he knew you were convinced.

“Well, don’t make it such a habit, I don’t like you pushing yourself so much and I prefer to have a little bit of warmth at night.”

Before Bruce could respond back her phone started beeping. Watching her fiddle with her pocket till she finally answered. He decided to take the opportunity to lay his head on her shoulder, resting his eyes for only a moment to try and get a few minutes of rest he failed to get last night. Bruce knew lying to you was gonna catch up to him, Alfred had told him when they were dating for only a year that he should have said the truth of what he does at night as the caped crusader. He didn’t, and now Bruce and Y/n were married for six months, her having no clue what he has been hiding all these years.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be there soon.” Y/n hung up the phone, looking down she smiled seeing the calmness and peace in her husbands expression. He had been pushing himself so hard lately, working long hours, barley keeping up with emails, and the amount of coffee this man drinks on a daily could probably put the average human into shook.

Bruce opened his eyes looking up at her. Y/n frowned at the red shot color and the dark circles that really have been getting more and more noticeable these days. “Bruce, please go home early today, and just sleep for two days.”

Bruce laughed, kissing her shoulder he leaned his head back up, letting Y/n slide off his lap. “I’ll be fine, you should get to work before you get in trouble.” Taking her hand he brought it to his mouth and kissed it twice. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Y/n leaned down, bringing her hands to his cheeks she cupped his face and kissed sweetly. Pulling back she locked her eyes with him, still cupping his face. “Sleep, please.”

Bruce nodded, watching her round the corner of his desk as she made her way out of his office. As soon as the door closed he let out a sigh of relief. He was slipping up, not catching the little things only she would notice. Knowing soon he would have to tell her the truth or she would figure it out herself; or worse, she would assume something else that was even worse than the truth.

The hole he dug himself into was deep, too deep for comfort. Telling her the truth now could put a cold stop to the relationship. He should have told her before they got married... No, he should have told her from the beginning. Bruce knew a long time ago that he wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. Whatever short or long life he may have, he finally found someone he didn't wanna waste a moment without; but now, he could lose you completely for a lie that has over taken his life.

Bruce stacked up some papers he had been working on. Getting up, he walked over to the briefcase that Y/n brought him, stuffing the rest of the endless files and notes for his next meeting inside, he walked to the conference room to get ready for another long day.

Few hours later Bruce was back in his office, the sunset coming through the open floor to ceiling windows. He sat in his chair, swiveling back a bit with the momentum. Pulling his phone out he went into his favorites and hit the one of two numbers saved. After a few rings he finally heard the click.

“I was just about to call you.” Y/n smiled, “I have in my hand a very delicious plate of Chinese that will make your mouth drool.”

“Chinese huh?” Bruce leaned back in his chair, his eyes shut as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I thought I would let Alfred have a night to himself. He was talking about going to see a play or something."

"Where are you?" Bruce asked, hearing the sounds of the city in the background.

"I'm headed to the office, I'm about a few blocks away."

Before Bruce could respond a loud crash was heard from below, followed by an explosion that shook his entire office.

Jumping from his seat, he instantly became hyper aware of his surroundings. quickly pulling up the building security cameras.

"Bruce? What was that? I see smoke rising up from where I am."

Each camera but the down stairs labs were working, thinking the explosion came from there Bruce quickly grabbed what he needed and headed out the door. "Y/n, I have to call you back."

"What? Bruce what is happening?"

All of a sudden multiple Gotham PD cars sped past her on the main road, followed by two fire trucks and an ambulance.

Panic setting in, Y/n started running towards Wayne industries, ignoring the groups of people starting to crowd the streets with phones in their hands that were recording the large amounts of smoke that was getting bigger and darker.

"I gotta help some people, Y/n I'll call you back."

"Wait Bruce don't-" And just like that, the phone disconnected and Y/n was left on the other end.

More people crowded the streets, seeing the crowds get bigger as everyone looked to the sky to see the most well known building in Gotham get surrounded by smoke.

Y/n finally made it to the barrier line that the fire and police had made to keep the crowds of people back and away from the building. Crowds of people had all gather around the barricade, watching as the scene in front of them spread wider to almost around the whole building and inside the employee garage.

Looking around Y'n had spotted commissioner Gordan, who looked to be supervising the crowd work and escorting some employees who had just made it out of the building. "Jim!"

Jim turned around looking directly in the direction of his name. Spotting Y/n, he jogged over next to the barrier. "Mrs Wayne! There was an explosion in one of the labs, along with another one almost at the top of the building, we have been trying to get people out, but some parts of the structure has already fallen thru."

"Jim, Bruce was inside his office, I was on the phone with him and-" Before Y/n could finish her sentence, Batman glided in, landing directly next to one of the stretchers that had a paramedic. He was holding two office workers that Y/n recognized as one of Bruces office assistants. Batman quickly gave them to one of the paramedics, both not looking to be injured but struggling to breath from the intake of smoke from whatever blew up.

Batman glanced around, his eyes landing on Y/n. He walked over swiftly, standing next to Jim he told him he had given the run down of all exits and civilian count to what he thought was the best plan for firefighters to get in and out with no casualties. The problem that Y/n had with his plan despite not talking to her, was the fact none of this covered for the main office floor. "That doesn't cover the top floor." Y/n was quick to say.

Jim turned around, but Batman paid no attention. "Mrs Wayne, we have our best people getting this fire under control, we-"

"The main office building is still covered in smoke, if the staircases leading up to the top floor is engulfed in flames by now how do you-"

"The people on that floor have already been evacuated." Batman cut in, his voice was sharpe and straight to the point.

"Bruce Wayne wasn't evacuated."

Batman's jaw tightened, he turned his attention back to Jim. "There is nobody left on that floor this is the best plan. for the rest of the building"

Dumbfounded, Y/n looked at Gordan for any sign of help. He nodded, putting his hand on her shoulder he looked back to Batman "You are absolutely sure, Bruce Wayne was not on that floor?"

Batman glanced back at Y/n, her expression was pleading, almost desperate at this point, but what made it all worst was the tears that started to form at the corners of her eyes. Sighing, he turned his back on both of them. "I'm absolutely sure."

Y/n held back a sob, driving her body forward she tried to go after him. "No! He's lying!" She yelled out. Jim had a complete hold on her now, pulling her back from going after Batman. "He's in there! He's in that building! Batman Stop! Please! You can't leave him!" The more she yelled the more her voice would crack and her body would try to fight against Jim.

"Mrs Wayne, please stop!" Jim was struggling to get a complete grip on her. "Hey! Get me some help here!"

Just then two officers came to Jim's aid. "Get her away from here, keep her monitored until we can get this fire under control!"

All of a sudden the top floor of the building exploded again, causing everyone around to duck down to the ground. Glancing up, Y/n stared in horror as the top floor was covered in flames, there was absolutely no way anyone could have still been there, and if they were, they were gone.

Y/n body slacked, and the two cops who were just having to hold her back had now let their hands loosen their grip. Y/n was still on the ground, tears had fallen harder from her face at this point, but she was silent.

Batman looked down at her, he took a step forward but had to stop himself. He was about to comfort her but knew this wasn't the time. Turning back around he told himself this was the right thing to do, at least for now. Batman felt her eyes on him, he knew she was furious with him, he knew she wanted nothing more then to wish Batman and Bruce Wayne had traded places, but he didn't have time to explain to her that he knew Bruce Wayne was out of that building, that her husband was safe and she could see him soon. Instead he said the only thing that he knew could come from both Batman and her husband. "I'm sorry."

Y/n watched as the cape crusader rushed away, going to help the rescue crew and to get anymore civilians they couldn’t reach from just their equipment. She barley heard the apology from him, she felt empty at that moment, still on the ground as the tears kept going. Feeling a bit of warmth around her shoulders she looked up to see Jim. He put a blanket from one of the EMT trucks on her, a look of sympathy in his eyes. He moved some hair that was in front of her face, looking at the officers who were still behind her. "Take her to my squad car, keep someone by her till I get done here."

Jim walked away, joining the rest of the crew that were still escorting several more civilians out of the building. Y/n looked to see one of the officers crouched down next to her, holding out his hand he smiled sadly at her. Putting her hand is his, she let him help her up, walking towards Jims squad car with the blanket wrapped tightly around her.

A couple of hours later, everything had calmed down. People who were injured were rushed to the hospital, the ones who weren't and had evaluated were ether on the phone with family or still getting checked out by EMS. A few people had even started to get interviewed by a few reporters who were covering the scene.

Y/n still had the blanket that Jim gave her, walking around some of the building she looked at all the rubble that was spread everywhere. Jim was still talking to a few rescue crew and hadn't gotten a chance to make his way to her. She held the blanket tight around her. It was dark now and the only thing lighting the building was some construction lights and the one helicopter that had been flying above for twenty minutes now.

She knew they were still doing a count on the people who made it out and the people taken to the hospital. It was difficult since their scanner had been destroyed to tell how many employees had clocked in today, but Y/n felt her heart sink at the thought that there would be one causality on that list.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind her, Y/n didn't have to guess who it was. He wasn't trying to be quiet and the heavy boots were a dead giveaway. She didn't bother to turn around, she just continued twisting her wedding ring on her hand.

"Mrs Wayne." His voice was deep but it held some softness to it, nothing like how he talked to her earlier. "You should really get back to commissioner Gordan, the building hasn't been cleared to be stable yet."

No response.

"Mrs Wayne."

Again, nothing.

"Y/n-"

"I don't care." She said.

"What?"

"I said, I don't care. This whole building could fall on me for all I care."

Batman didn't say anything. He walked up from behind and softly placed his hand down on her shoulder. The moment his hand landed she quickly turned around and attempted to slap him. He grabbed her wrist right before her hand made contact with his face, she was too slow for him. "Mrs Wayne-"

"You let him die!" tears started to form again. "He was up there and you lied! He couldn't have made it out in time, he was still there!" Completely crying now, Y/n stared at Batman, her grip still struggling against his as she tried to free her hand. She swung again, this time the other arm, but he blocked that one too. He had both wrists in his hands, attempting to keep her still but she was fighting against him. Her blanket had fallen off her shoulders at this point and tears were still falling down her face. He didn't wanna let her go until she had calmed down but it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon, she just kept fighting more. They were far enough away from the rest of everyone that nobody had noticed or even heard her crys.

Batman looked around once more just to be sure there wasn't any glancing eyes. He let go of one of her hands, which she used as a chance to pound on his chest over and over. She was like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Batman shot one of his bat rings to a nearby building roof, using his other hand, he let go of her wrist and wrapped his free hand around her waist, forcing her forward against his chest.

The sudden momentum made Y/n grip his shoulders, but as soon as both their feet left the ground she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist; holding on for life as she let out a scream right next to his ear.

Batman landed, but Y/n hadn't moved from her position. She was wrapped tightly around him, her breathing was heavy and her face was still buried in his neck. He slowly brought his hands up to her back, trying to cradle her as she calmed down.

As if that was a wake up call, Y/n quickly jumped down and pushed him away. "What is wrong with you?!" She asked in frustration. Backing away from him, Y/n started to pace. She was running her hands though her hair.

Batman just stood there watching her, he was debating with himself. Wondering what he should do next.

"Get me down from here." Y/n demanded. "Get me off this roof, I wanna go home!"

"Y/n-"

"No!" She screamed. "Stop, just stop. Please." She was crying again, only this time she sounded desperate, not sad. "I just lost the one person that means everything to me- I can't- I." And that was it. She broke. Falling to her knees again, she buried her face in her hands. "Please."

He couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn't watch this. It might’ve just been easier to leave her and show up later out of the mask, but he didn't wanna lie to her anymore. He didn't wanna keep pushing her away with only knowing half of him, only bound to assume the worst in what he was really hiding.

Walking slowly towards her kneeling down to her level, he took off his mask, but she hadn't risen her head from her hands, she was still shaking her head slightly and mumbling something he couldn't make out.

"Y/n. Look at me." He said it so gently, just like he were to tell her good morning.

She hadn't moved or even bother to respond.

"Y/n, sweetheart." He took his hand and gently gripped her wrist in attempt to pull it away from her face.

"Stop, leave me alone. Please, go away." Her voice was scratchy from all the crying, she sounded so exhausted. "Batman, please, just leave me here and go."

"I can't do that." He tried again with her wrist, this time more successful.

Her hands were away from her face now, but her eyes were still looking down. "Why?" She asked, wiping some of her face.

"Because, we made a promise until death do us part."

Y/n froze, her breath had hitched and she slowly looked up. Expecting to come face to face with a dark mask, she was instead greeted with the most beautiful blue eyes, the same blue eyes that made her fall in love in the first place.

He cupped the side of her cheek, his thumb gently wiping some of her tears that were still falling. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you."

Y/n stared blankly at him for a minute, taking in his attire, she stayed dead silent. Bruce for the first time couldn't tell what she was thinking. She was normally easy to read for him, but this time was different, this time she was expressionless. Her hands slowly raised to his face, gently running her fingers across his jaw and to his forehead. Before Bruce could say anything, she threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around him tighter than earlier and her whole body pushed up against his.

Bruce sat down pulling her into him. He kissed the side of her head, as he rubbed his hands up and down her back, breathing in her scent since he was closer now.

The both of them stayed like that for several minutes, taking in the silence.

Y/n pulled back, wiping her eyes she did her best to compose herself despite the red puffiness her eyes gained from crying so much.

Bruce tucked some fallen hair behind her ear, keeping his hand there he stroked the side of her cheek. “Y/n I’m-“

“Alive.” She cut him off.

Confused, he waited for her to continue.

“You’re alive, I don’t care about anything else.” She brought her hand up to his that was on her face. “I don’t care about anything else but that.”

“Not even-“

“That you’re Batman? Geez Bruce, I couldn’t have thought of a better outcome. I rather you be here in front of me wearing the Batman uniform then somewhere buried in that rumble.”

He nodded slowly, understanding what she was getting at. “I’m sorry. For everything, before and now.”

Y/n tucked herself under his arm, wrapping her arms around his body. “We can talk about you lying to me this whole time later, but for now, let me have this…. Let me have you, just for a moment.”

Bruce kissed the top of her head, bringing her closer to his body he watched over her head to the scene below.

There would be time to figure things out, to talk over the past several years and catching up on the secret life he had been hiding, knowing he was gonna have to be ready for any consequences from her.

“Bruce?”

“Hmm?”

“Just to be clear for the moment, this doesn’t change anything, sure I’m mad. But I love you and knowing what I do now, that hasn’t changed.”

“Why are you-?”

“I can sense how tense you are, I know you’re worrying about what I think, but I’m not leaving, you couldn’t pay me enough.”

Bruce laughed, feeling what was starting to build up as stress slowly be let go. She could read him just as well as he could read her, and that was something he would always value when it came to her.

Standing up, Bruce put back on his head piece. "Alfred should be here by now, I'll meet you at home, I should help Gordan a bit longer."

Holding his hand out she held his as he helped her up. "Ok, I will see you at home then." Y/n looked down at their joint hands, she looked back up to Bruce and on instinct she leaned forward to kiss him goodbye, before she got too close she stopped herself. Realizing she was about to kiss batman and not her husband, she thought he wouldn't have liked that. "Be careful." Y/n turned around and started to walk away, before she got too far she felt a gentle but firm tug on her hand.

Batman pulled her back to him, his free hand going to her face to pull her lips to his. He kissed her hard, but nothing too aggressive. He felt her relax against him, knowing this is exactly what they both needed. Reluctantly pulling away, Batman looked down to her and wiped away a few stray tears that fell. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

Nodding, Y/n took a step back, watching as the caped crusader walked towards the edge of the building, he glance back at her for a few moments, she smiled at him, feeling her heart slip as her shot out a line to another building and jumping away.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batman x reader #dc universe #dc comics #queen Bruce Wayne #x reader #reader insert #batman x you #bruce wayne x y/n

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judasgot-it · 1 year ago

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Kaldo x Reader - Can I kiss you?

Side note - WHEN IS HE GETTING HIS ANIME EPISODES are not ENOUGH IMAGES OF HIM OMG

word count - 1.5 k

It first started when you were paired up for potions class, paired up with the mysterious boy from the powerful Ghenna family.

You heard a lot about him, how he was excellent with fire magic - how he was guranteed the position of the Fire Cane, just like his mother before him had. Everyone had known this about him though, he wasn't exactly hard to spot, with his rather noteable hairstyle and weird hobby of carrying a giant sword with him.

“So, is it true that you put honey on your sushi?”

His face stayed concentrated, trying to remain hard at the task at hand - his hand expertly waving his wand as if he had done this spell thousands of times before. He probably had, considering his lineage and all. You didn't even bother to participate, seeing as he had rather handled it all himself.

“Where did you hear that?” His voice was deep for you would have thought, rather smoothe and thick than what his stature gave the impression of. Kind of like honey. Ironic.

“I heard it from your roommate. But do you?“ You had taken your nails and started to draw simple patterns on the desk, making little animals made of light that danced along the wood. They entertained you in the lieu of the awkward silence.

”So what if I do? It's not weird.“

He had mumbled the last word, his closed eyelids twitching as he somehow watched your 'group project' bubble over into a perfect reaction. It was an easy A, wasn't it.

“No, it's not. I think it's kind of cute how sweet you like everything, actually.”

You had gone back to watching your little light animals dance around each other, too distracted too see how Kaldo's face flushed. That had been the first time he had heard himself be called 'cute' let alone his 'weird' eating habits.

It was something about being called that, in his mind, would never be replacable.

After that project, what you had once known as the rather intimidating 'kid from the Ghenna family' had become some weird shadow that wouldn't leave your side no matter what you did.

Even when he became the Fire Cane, or when you had both graduated - he hadn't ever left your side, running back to you every moment he could.

He was still cute, drenching his sushi in honey every chance he got. Although now he was half a foot taller and had a new outfit, it still made you giggle watching him eat with honey smeared all over his face.

“Kaldo, you kind of look like a cute bear.” Reaching over, you wiped the honey off of his face with your thumb, giving it a taste yourself. It was strangly salty as well, although that was probably blamed by the mixed-in soy sauce.

”Wh' d' m'een k'nd 'f?“ Whatever Kaldo had said, you didn't understand a word of it. Simply nodding, you went and took a sip of your water, watching as he had no trouble swallowing the swathes of honey and bits of fish in his mouth.

“You know, Y/n - you've always called me cute.“

He was serious, facing his entire body towards you. His posture was relaxed, although you've known him long enough to see how his eyebrows crinkled in a sort of nervous tension.

“Do you ever…mean, anything by that?“

The pearl haired man swallowed nervously after saying this, trying to stay calm as his eyes watched for your reaction. You simply blinked back, taking all of him in at the moment.

The Fire Cane, one of the most powerful magic users in the continent, was torn to shreds by flirting. His face said it all to you.

”Kaldo, what do you think I mean by it.“

He looked down to his plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world - as if the well dead fish had miraculously could answer for him.

“Um. I don't know, it's why I asked. I've been wondering, it just seems, you know…“

”You know? What?“ A smirk pulled across your face as Kaldo struggled to say the word out loud. Romantic. Like a child who just learned a naughty word and was too scared to hear it out loud.

Maybe you should go easy on him, though. Afterall, you did like him. Even if he was taken down so easily by mere words, it seemed. And had more than strange tastes.

”I'm flirting with you. I've been doing it since highschool, actually. Did you just notice?”

The great Fire Cane himself had curled into himself, his tall figure trying to hide into bar seat as best as he could. It didn't work, but seeing a peak of his bright red face and mock of white hair was more than entertaining for you.

It took him a while to bring his composure back, his face still flushed and his posture still taught as he looked down at you. Hard to believe he could be embarrassed so easily.

”So does that mean you like me?“

”I thought it was obvious. Do let anyone else lick honey off of your face?“

”No, but you aren't just anyone.“

Kaldo tried to keep his face serious despite how his embarrassment was still very evident on his face.

”And what do you mean by that?“

You leaned over, your nose almost touching his as you enjoyed watching him fall apart at the realization. He only leaned away slightly, not enough to have your shoulders no longer touch his chest though.

His body was warm, even through his layers of clothes. It made you press up closer against him, continueing your teasing tirade. You had never gone this far before, and you could feel your own blush creep along your cheeks as you felt his hand brush along the back of your neck, pulling you closer-

”Are you going to pay for that, sir?“

The both of you jumped, staring at the disgruntled chef who was glaring at Kaldo's honey covered sushi. His eye's were dark and cold as he watched the two of you awkwardly unentangle from one-another - you even having to scoot back into your chair, after having almost sitting in Kaldo's lap for that near kiss.

You were now the one embarassed, trying to hide your face by staring at the table and hoping no one would notice as Kaldo smoothely paid for both of your orders, as if it made what happened between the two of you any better.

It did not, as the chef's eyes were still felt even as you walked far out of his line of sight.

”You know, we should do this again sometime.“

The two of you were walking the same as you always had, side by side - Kaldo slowing his steps to match yours, while you stayed just close to his shoulder, letting his mere status clear your path.

“That chef was so mad at us, though!” You were still freaked out about the look in his eyes - how you had almost kissed Kaldo, had it not been for that guy. You could still imagine the warmth of his gloved hand along your neck, and it made you feel even colder as the wind blew against your face.

Kaldo just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. His confidence had returned, the embarrassment from earlier only seen by the small blush still visible in his cheeks.

”No, I mean, this. I think we should go out again. Like this.“ He shook your shoulders for emphasis, groaning as if to shake sense in your head.

”We do go out like this.“ You were fighting a blush on your cheeks, as well as trying to keep your walking even with his as he pressed his weight on top of yours. He was heavier than it seemed.

”No, but not in this way. Telling each other things, and when before the chef came over. It's nice.“

”Do you just want to kiss me?“

Kaldo blinked his eyes open, staring right at you. His face had turned into the same color as the ribbons in his hair, although you were not one to talk - saying that sentence had made you so weak in the knees you had started to rest your weight against Kaldo's chest, greatful he worked out.

His arm pulled you in closer by the shoulders, forcing you to stop in your tracks. His eyes nearly glowed in the dim streetlights, scanning your every feature.

“I can't help it. You look kissable.”

“Well, I was going to kiss you before, wasn't I? So do it now.“

He didn't need to be told twice, his gloved hand taking your face and pressing it against his. It was messy, your noses mashed against one another and his teeth gnashing against your lips.

You took your hand to card through his ivory hair, thumbing over the red ribbon holding it all together. You gave yourselves room to breathe, and moved against his frozen face as you tried to salvage the awkward kiss.

Kaldo pulled away first, heaving a large breath and eyes wide and blown out. He looked as if he had ran a marathon in that moment.

You tried to catch your breath as well, gaining your footing again as you still felt his warm body pressing against yours. It was either that or the kiss, that had started to make you sweat.

”That was great.“ Kaldo looked insane, coming down from a high that had essentially left breathless. His hair was messy, and his face was broken into one of the widest smiles you had seen in a while.

Sorry y'all, not my best but I think there's some demon that's taken over me and it made me write for Kaldo. Also sorry to the Mashle community.

#mashle x reader #kaldo gehenna x reader #kaldo x reader #kaldo x you #kaldo gehenna x you #mashle x you #kaldo gehenna

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heartpiratedrabbles · 1 year ago

Text

Misunderstandings Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 ~

NSFW

Crocodile X Fem Reader

“This isn’t our room,” You mutter as you sit on the bed of a suite Crocodile had led you too. It was much less charming than the penthouse you have lived in for the past year or so.

Crocodile shrugs off his fur coat while blowing smoke in your direction, “That’s because they’re probably raiding our place right now.” His words were tired at the thought of having the clean up a mess but your heart pounded when you heard him use the word our. “Now Princess. Do you want to explain to me why you caused a scene today?” His voice changed to that of amusement and annoyance.

You flop onto the bed, turning your face to bury it into the comforter, “You wanna explain who that hussy is?” You knew back-talking him wasn’t the smartest idea but your frustration and anger were still alive and well even if your body had become tired. “I thought you were replacing me.” The pout came out with a small whimper as you kick off your shoes before curling your legs onto the bed.

You felt the bed dip on either side of you, and see his good arm support himself next to your head. “You think I’d want someone who doesn’t even know how to dress herself properly?” The accusatory tone came out with a huff of disbelief and you can’t help but smile a bit as you turn to face him. His hook was loosening his tie as he looks down at you, “Who do you think I am? I’d never replace a precious jewel,” He mutters placing a kiss on your temple.

Still pouting you decide to push him a little more, “You didn’t call this entire time.” He looks down at you and you feel some tears brim your eyes that you try to blink away. He switches arms, letting his hand brush your cheek and a thumb wipe a tear away as he kisses your other temple.

“I was on a mission Princess… Any contact with you could’ve put you in danger.” The sweet words run through your ears and you had to admit the more he said the happier you felt, you nuzzle your face into his hand. And despite your high emotions you couldn’t help but to lick his hand daring him to go further. Seeing you calm down, and feeling the mischievous invitation, he leans in closer to your ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you acted on the floor you Brat.” Your ears tingle at his sharp tone as you bare your neck to him out of habit, “Don’t pretend to be a good girl now.” He nips at your neck, trailing down until he’s at your dress line.

Crocodile sits up and you smirk up at him, “I plead my innocence. I was a single lady when I did such things.”

His brow furrows at you, “Oh? Then perhaps I should train you rather than punish you.” His words make your heart skip a beat. You know the difference well enough when it comes to Crocodile, it’s the difference between pain and release or hours of begging and pleading.

He stands up, shrugging off his vest, and you watch as he delicately puts it to the side, only sparing you a small glance, “W-wait. I’m sorry.” Crocodile doesn’t say anything as he sits down in a chair across the room, “Sir, I didn’t mean it,” You stand up and saunter over to Crocodile, trying to choose the lesser of the two punishments.

He hums, taking a long drag of his cigar while staring at you, “So you know what you did was wrong?” You kneel down between his legs, nodding your head before resting it on his knee, looking up with pleading eyes. He runs his hand through your hair before gripping it, pulling you up. You quickly place your hands on his knees to support yourself as the dull ache of your scalp brings your attention fully to crocodile. “Take off your dress and bend over my knee Princess.” His words blowing smoke into your face before he releases your hair.

You barely catch yourself before standing back up, your back turned to Crocodile as you slide each strap off your shoulders. You glance behind you, slowly turning to face him before peeling the dress off, your breasts bouncing slightly as they’re released from the tight fabric. You bend down, further pushing the dress off before stepping out of it entirely, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You take a step towards him before you stop, “Do you want me naked sir?” You timidly ask, slowly moving your hands to the edge of your panties.

Crocodile seems to consider your question for a second before patting his leg. You nod your head before bending over his knees, adjusting your boobs underneath you before bracing your hands on his thigh. You feel the tip of his hook caress your back before dipping below you neck, sweeping all your hair to one side. His hand rubbing gentle circles on your ass. “Now Princess, what are you sorry for?” His voice is accompanied by a harsh grasp,

“I’m sorry for causing a scene in front of your guests,” Your hands grip his thigh, waiting for an impact, but instead you feel a hook under your chin, tilting your head up to make eye contact.

“What else?” He hooks a finger under your waistband, slowly pulling it up. You gasp at the feeling, lifting your ass to relieve the pressure.

“S-saying I was single,” He hums, releasing your panties with a snap. You let out a small squeal before feeling a hard slap against your ass, “O-One. Thank you Sir.”

“Good girl, I see you haven’t forgotten your manners” He gently kneads your ass to comfort the rough sting, and just as the pain went away another loud slap came. You yelp out, counting as you do. Another comes swiftly after, harder than the last two that makes tears comes to your eyes. You quickly let out the number three along with a thank you.

Another 4 spanks have you crying outright. But it’s the 8th slap that causes you to lose your grip, falling forward, hair a mess as you let out a sob. “Have you learned your lesson, Princess?” Crocodile muses above you, trailing his fingers up and down your spine in a comforting motion.

The throbbing pain only adding to your pleasure as you nod your head begging him to forgive you. He gently places his hand on the red skin, kneading circles to help with blood flow, as he watches your body shake. “Lay on the bed,” His sultry deep voice had you standing up on unsteady legs before doing as your told.

You look up from your position and watch as Crocodile slowly undresses, folding his clothes and placing them on the chair as he goes. He glances over at you, “Prepare yourself Princess.” You reach down to take your panties off, noticing how wet you had become in the movement as you spread your legs and reach down.

Sliding a finger around your own clit before sliding it over your entrance. You bite your lip to hold back any needy noise you could make as you slide two fingers in right away, raising your hips slightly to try and reach deeper inside yourself. Your other hand fondling and gripping your breast. Curling your fingers to try and hit the perfect spot, letting out a small whine at how empty you still feel.

Your let your eyes wander over your lovers’ body, noticing his standing erection as he watches you. You meet his gaze and feel yourself throb around your fingers at the darkened eyes turned towards you. “C-crocodile Please. I want something bigger,” his eyes flashes over your body with a smirk playing on his lips before he kneels on the bed.

“Not even asking properly Princess? That’s not how I taught you,” He tugs at your wrist between your thighs, your fingers leaving the warm space with a string of slick still connected to the entrance. He brings your coated fingers up to his lips, licking you clean as you moan at the sight. It’s only when he’s fully tasted you that he glances up at your eyes, “Well? If you ask politely, I may reward you.”

You brush you hand against his shoulder, your fingers tips ghosting over his chest, “Please Sir, I want to be filled by you ‘till I can’t think anymore.” He grunts in approval, positioning him self at your throbbing entrance, you try to inch closer to the pressure you love.

“Impatient, I see,” Gripping your thigh as he pushes into you at a torturously slow rate. You moan at the feeling of being filled but slowly your breath hitches, “Did you forget how big I was Princess?” Crocodiles teasing laugh rings through your ears as you stretch wider, “Didn’t you touch yourself while I was away?”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder, pulling his chest closer to you as you take his length. “It never feels good without you,” You whimper, burying you face into the crook of his neck. You whimper quickly changes to a full-blown cry as Crocodile thrusts his hips to be flush against you. You wrap your arms around his neck as your body shakes into his body.

His hooked hand snakes behind your back, pulling you closer to him as his fingers brush through your hair, sitting up while shushing you with sweet words of encouragement and praise for taking all of him. It isn’t until Crocodile makes sure your ready that he starts to rock in and out of you.

You eventually gain the courage to meet his thrusts, bouncing on your knees slowly while Crocodile places gentle kisses along your neck, praising every moan that escapes your lips. The stretch of your pussy taking all of Crocodile being an addicting burning pain that you try to burn into your mind as you roll your hips to feel him as different angles.

It's when you started to feel the pressure building that you heard the Den-den Mushi ring. You whimper slightly, knowing Crocodile won’t let up his pace as he reaches over to answer the call. You can hear talk of a hostage situation gone wrong and business partners willing to agree to anything, but frustration grows in you as Crocodile stops stroking your back with his hook, instead leaning onto the bed while continuing the call, still maintaining his pace in you without a though.

Shame leaving your clouded mind, you start to moan loudly and without restraint, picking up your own movements as you feel his chests and stomach, his dry scarred skin sending tingles through your fingertips. Crocodile flashes you a warning glare that you decide to ignore when you lean down and lick at his adams apple, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin of his throat.

You hear the click of the den-den mushi before your head is ripped away from him neck, the sting of the hair pull only making your mind go crazy, “Did you forget your manners here too? That was an important call Princess.” His gruff tone was music to your ears before he shoved his tone down your throat, his hooked arm keeping you in place as he pounds into you at an insane pace.

The pressure building and the lack of air making you crazy, you feel yourself tighten around his dick before he rips you off his lap entirely, pushing you to the ground. You whimper at the lack of an orgasm as you reposition yourself between his legs, relaxing your jaw as much as possible before he shoves your head around his throbbing member.

“Only good girls get to cum darling,” Your tongue flattened as much as possible as you feel him hitting the back of your throat, spit overflowing your mouth with each movement. You hum as a weak apology around him while you grip his thighs to try and stay steady.

There is no warning while he slams your head down, not letting you come up as his warm cum hits your throat. You try to relax as much as possible before he pulls out, pumping a couple more spurts onto your extended tongue before you close your mouth, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth before swallowing, savoring the salty flavor before showing him you’ve swallowed everything.

His hook under your chin as some spit from before if still dripping and tears staining your face while he looks pleased at the sight in front of him. “Is this what you wanted? It’s not much of a punishment if you wanted it princess.”

“I’ve missed you so much, I couldn’t help myself,” You whine out, hoping he won’t actually punish you.

“I guess I have neglected my pet recently…” He hums in agreeance as his thumb cleans your face slightly, “Why don’t we wait until you’ve fully calmed down before continuing?” His almost gentle voice brings you back, to your slightly dizzy tired state, “Miss. All-Sunday didn’t cut you off and you haven’t a single tolerance to allow you to drink that much.” His hushed tones now slightly scolding you as he pulls you onto the bed.

“Only cause I saw you next to that girl,” You pout slightly, “Get rid of me before finding someone else, it’s too painful to watch.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I could never replace you, Princess.” You let a small smile fall on your lips at hearing the words escape him, but still stay silent. His sighs next to you, “I can’t promise I won’t do something similar in the future. But I’ll at least let you know before hand alright?” You let out a dissatisfied hum while he rubs your back.

“Only if you let me choose the girl next time. This one was too haughty to be by your side,” He sighs at your demand but agrees.

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #Sir Crocodile #Crocodile X Reader #Part 3

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vinylfoxbooks · 8 months ago

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June 27 - Heal | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 560 TW: Talks of blood

It’s a rare day where Regulus has managed to calm down James enough that they can sit in the library together and study. James is playing with their quill in hand, tapping the edge of it on the table occasionally and running their fingers over the feather, while reading over the textbook in front of them. Regulus has his free hand reaching over and holding theirs under the table.

When Regulus finishes with the essay that he was working on, he pushes his things away from him and stretches in his chair, body aching from how long he’s been sitting in the same position. He almost doesn’t want to disturb James not that they’re in a zone but he figures that he should pull them from their reverie. Especially when he notices that James is biting at their lip, and probably has been for a while judging but the layer of slick red that’s coating their bottom lip, “Jamie? How’re you doing?”

“I think I’m starting to get it.” James nods, “Why?”

Regulus reaches up and runs his thumb over their lip, “You’re biting again, love.”

“Sorry.” James says, furrowing their brows a bit and licking at their lips, “I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“You never do love,” Regulus shakes his head, “I’m not upset, just want to make sure that you’re not hurting yourself. You’ve been biting at your lips a lot recently, you need to let them heal a bit. Do you want a lolly?” James nods and Regulus pulls one from his bag, handing it to his partner, “Let me know if you want another one when you finish it.” James nods and puts the sweet into their mouth, attempting to focus back on their textbook.

Regulus watches them for a while, watching the way that they’ve moved on to using their hand not holding Regulus’ to move around the stick coming out of their mouth instead of playing with the quill, their lips still ripped open and leaving a small, red residue on the white paper.

He refuses to admit it, especially since it’s a bad habit of James’, but Regulus always thinks it's incredibly sexy when James bites at their lip. He loves it for an unexplainable reason. And the way that James’ lips look covered in that thin sheen of blood… He knows it's bad for James, which is why he always reminds them to stop when he catches it but-

Regulus’ breath hitches when James’ tongue sweeps out to lick more of the blood off their lip and seemingly having to stop themself from biting at it more. The sound makes James stop and turn to look at him, tilting their head a bit, “Are you alright?”

Regulus nods and leans over to kiss them, “Everything’s fine. I just love you and your pretty lips.” James blushes but leans in for another kiss, allowing Regulus to taste the combination of blood and blue raspberry from the lolly. Regulus swipes his tongue over James’ lower lip, taking in the taste once more, before he pulls away and tells James to start studying again. They whine about it since he sufficiently distracted them but tries anyway when Regulus starts ignoring them in favour of doing his own schoolwork and studying, trying to force the image of James’ pretty lips out of his mind.

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #dead gay wizards #james x regulus #jegulus #starchaser #microfic

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scarletnakazato · 2 months ago

Note

If you have time could you do headcanons for what it’s like to sleep together with the racers? Like who hogs the blanket, talks in his sleep, cuddles the whole night, etc?

• All Initial D Male and Female Characters • Word Count: 3,039. • Synopsis: In which you learn the ups and down of sleeping with street racers. • Note: Thank you Anon, I loved this one! Never thought about what it'd be like in detail to sleep with these guys, hehe!

Keisuke: A blanket AND bed hogger. Since he’s used to sleeping in the middle of his old twin sized bed, he’d have the die-hard habit. I see sleeping with him going several different ways depending on who is in bed first, and if you go together.

You go to bed first. Since he’s a night owl with racing he doesn’t normally get to bed until the twilight hours. So, if he comes home to you already asleep, he’ll weasel himself into bed quietly and even readjust the blankets for you so your covered comfortably and they aren’t all crinkled up. He’d snuggle up into you, spooning you at first since you’re already nice and warm. He falls asleep quicker that way, and this is where the “fun” begins. At least an hour into him falling asleep, he’ll start rolling around and adjusting positions, so you can bet his legs get tangled in the blankets and take it all with him. Your sleeping self most likely won’t notice until you get woken up from being cold or feeling him practically wrestle around in his sleep and accidently kick you in the leg.

He goes to bed first. In the rare chance he’s in bed and asleep before you, he’s already got the blankets scrunched up and he’s in the middle of the bed. I see him laying on his back, his arms are spread out and one of them curls back in so his head is leaning against his hand, kind of like a flexing pose (like that meme of the guy who’s sleeping like a medieval portrait of a damsel in distress). His legs are spread and one is bent at the knee, blanket wrapped around them as well. I imagine him as a heavy sleeper, and since he goes to bed so late from racing, he just taps out from exhaustion the second his head hits the pillow. Thus, you could practically wrestle the blankets from him to readjust it how it should be and he won’t even budge. He’ll mumble something at most or sigh and that’s about it. By the time you get into bed you’d either try to push him to his side, or just curl up into him like he does to you since that spot and him are already warm.

You both go to bed together. He loves to cuddle somehow. Whether its spooning you, or having you lay your head on his chest, or lay entirely on top of him for a bit, he’s happy. I see him wanting you to lay completely on top of him if he had a stressful night of racing, and your weight would imitate a weighted blanket to him so it’d help calm and relax him. I don’t see this as a comfortable falling asleep position on your part, so when you feel ready to tap out, you’d just slide off him and either cuddle into his side or have your own space. Hopefully you fall asleep before him otherwise you’ll be up for a while fighting for your blanket rights.

Ryosuke: Actually stays on his side, god bless. Doesn’t move a lot when asleep, but he’ll roll over, adjust his arms and legs a bit while awake trying to find that comfortable spot and position that just taps him out. Is quiet as well, no snoring or talking. He’ll occasionally sigh deeply, but it isn’t normally loud enough to wake you. Enjoys light cuddling with you on his side, head on his chest, as he gently rubs his hand up and down your back or side. I see two ways of sleeping with him.

His bad habit of overworking and overthinking keeps him up at night, making it take forever for him to fall asleep. If you both go to bed together, you’ll most likely fall asleep before he does, but I also see him as a sigher when he can’t fall asleep. It’s frustrating when your mind won’t shut off when it’s time to sleep. If he starts the sighing while you’re still awake, it’ll probably take you a while to tap out as well now. You could try asking him what’s on his mind, but be ready for an infodump. Hopefully, getting that off his chest and even talking it out will help him figure out his solutions that he can be satisfied with until tomorrow and he falls asleep fine after. Another snippet is if you do fall asleep even before or during his sighing, he’ll decide to just observe your sleeping form if there’s enough light in the room to make out your features. It helps distract him from his thoughts when he’s focused on you. If he can’t see you, he’ll brush his fingers along your neck, arms, waist, and hips, mentally mapping your form with his eyes closed until he falls asleep that way.

Like Keisuke, he’ll probably fall asleep quickly after a late night out on the mountains. If he does this, he’ll at least pull you to him so you’re spooned before he taps out. Likes to have your head in line with his chest, even if your back is to him. Has to have that space to breathe in the cold A/C air, or just have his nose be unobstructed by something that cuts of the airflow if that makes sense.

Takumi: Stomach sleeper hands down. The episode where his dad wakes him up, and he’s on stomach only reinforces that idea and he sleeps like that a lot. He won’t snore unless his neck is craned in a weird way that obstructs his airflow; breathes through his nose too. Since he’s on his stomach a lot, he doesn’t move around much except for a big of leg adjusting and maybe his arms a tad, so I can’t imagine he’s a blanket hogger or tangler. Will fall asleep hella quick if he lays his head on your chest or stomach, an arm wrapped around you and his hand splayed across your back. If his hand makes your back uncomfy, he’ll hold your waist, occasionally giving it little comforting squeezes. He probably had a stuffed animal as a kid and would squeeze it periodically to help him fall asleep, so the habit continued on with you. If you rub his head, shoulders or back with him on you like this, he’s out in record time. Gives pleased hums and little sighs, definitely falls asleep with a little smile on his face. Adorable baby boy.

Takeshi: Back sleeper. I envision him having a sore back after work so it helps him get rid of the pain when his back is straight and flat against the bed. He might sleep on his side occasionally if he’s got no pain, but he’ll probably wake up with a wee bit of soreness cause his spine was curved or he ended up moving to a weird side position for too long. Is also quiet for the most part, but will snore if his neck is craned weird like Takumi. I feel like he’d also twitch in his sleep when dreaming. Like his dreams would be hella vivid, his emotions feel real too so he starts physically moving a bit, most likely just his fingers or little nose twitches, furrowed brows etc. On rare occasion will he mumble or talk, again probably from a dream. A huge cuddler as well. He’s also your personal heater. Doesn’t hog the blankets at all because he’s so warm, but still needs a cover of some kind to be comfortable enough to sleep in. Prefers to have you curled up on his side, head on his arm or chest since he’s a back sleeper. If he ends up on his side, he’ll spoon you as well and nuzzle his nose into your neck, possibly even hang his leg over yours, or vice versa. Doesn’t normally have trouble falling asleep, even after a stressful race. He probably clocks out when he gets home and just wants to forget about it so he doesn’t tend to overthink things or have a hyper brain at night.

Shingo: Sleeps in pretty much any position, doesn’t care. As long as whatever he’s sleeping on is comfortable, he’s good. He’s definitely slept in the EG before so if he can sleep in that, practically anywhere is good for him. Since he’s pretty skinny, I imagine he’s kinda flexible and nimble enough to sleep in weird positions and it doesn’t really affect him when he wakes up. Like if he’s on his side, he’d probably have his hips leaning forward or something with his legs more in front of him so he’s twisted at the waist/hips but won’t wake up with any soreness or pain. In terms of cuddling, he’s more of a switch. Likes to have you on him, on his side, spooned, whatever, but also likes laying on your chest/stomach, or being spooned in a way where he’s on his back, and you’re latched onto his side like a leech, legs wrapped around his hips/legs and arms hugging his chest with your head on his bicep or in the crook of his neck. The only noise he really makes is, instead of sighing like normal, he’ll kind of hum instead? Such as if he sighs out, it’ll come out as a low, “mmmm” like a quiet microwave lmao. With his voice being naturally nasally, he doesn’t make those nose whistle sounds in his sleep unless he’s sick. He’ll do the same if he makes a big adjustment, such as rolling over to his other side, or from his back to his stomach, vice versa. Sometimes hogs the blankets if he moves into a weird position. Will sometimes sleep in an L shape with his legs straight out in front of him so if he does that facing away from you, the blankets are his unless he moves smoothly enough that they don’t move.

Itsuki: Is as loud in his sleep as he is when awake. Good luck, besties. Definitely a mouth breather and snores. It gets worse cause his mouth will dry out quicker so when his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth its like a fuckin megaphone was put in front of him. Complains about being too cold or too hot, so it could be 50/50 for the blanket war. Will cuddle if given the chance but has a vice grip, so again, good luck getting out of that.

Iketani: Is usually pretty warm, so he’s only half covered by blankets; doesn’t hog them much either. His snoring is on and off. Breathes through his nose, mouth closed, but still snores anyway. Only stops when he moves positions and typically is quiet when on his back. Likes to cuddle when awake but he’ll eventually turn away from you after he’s asleep. If he wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes you’re not there, he’ll pat around till he finds you and goes back to cuddling before sleeping again.

Kenji: Is concerningly quiet and still. Once he gets comfy, he’s in that position for nearly the whole night. His breathing gets really shallow and slow once asleep so it sometimes spooks you and you have check if he’s even alive. Since he breathes every few seconds with a pause in between each exhale, you have to check his pulse or listen for his heartbeat. Likes to cuddle on you most. The usual head on your chest, shoulder, or stomach is his go-to. Like Iketani, once asleep he tends to separate from you and then doesn’t move after that. Not a blanket hog, but he probably takes up bed space and weasels a bit into your side.

Kenta: Not a huge sleep or bedtime cuddler. Prefers to do that during the day. He’s also a back and stomach sleeper. Only time he goes onto his side is to flip over. If you want cuddles at night, you’ll have to do it after he’s asleep and weasel yourself under his arm if he’s on his back. A bit of a sigher, but doesn’t snore. Since his voice is nasally like Shingo, he’s probably got a stuffed nose most of the time, so when he sleeps his breathing makes those little whistling sounds through his nose.

Kyoichi: Also concerningly quiet. Doesn’t make noise unless he’s sick, feel like he’d snore when sick as well. Definitely see him as a back sleeper and a personal furnace. Doesn’t consider himself a cuddler, but after being with you for so long, it’s become a sleeping ritual to have you pressed against his side/chest in order to even fall asleep. Like Kenji, if you get concerned about his status of life, you can either check his pulse, heartbeat, or simply put a hand on his chest since he does take in full breaths, it’s easy to feel, he’s just quiet about it. Is a heavy ass sleeper too. Once he taps out, nothing is waking his ass up except his internal alarm clock for when morning comes. Occasionally moves around too, but you don’t normally have to fight for the blankets, thank God.

Rin: Snores lightly, but rhythmically. It’s the same sound, length, and volume, so it turns into background noise for you quite easily after being with him for a while. Loves spooning you and with you facing him so you can kinda hug him back, or at least nuzzle your arms in between both your chests and feel your forehead against him. Actually, has to wrestle the blankets from you since he runs cold. When you get nuzzled up to be spooned, you form fit the blanket around you and the blanket acts as a barrier between your body and his even though your pressed against each other.

Go: Snores like his brother, but its erratically. The sound and volume aren’t the issue, the inconsistency of his snores is unsatisfying and annoying when you can’t get the pattern to fall asleep to. As always, he likes boobs, so he’s gonna use yours as pillows. If you don’t move away once asleep, he’ll stay in that position the whole night. He’s a normal temperature so blanket wars aren’t an issue with him. Mumbles in his sleep quite a lot actually, and you can even have a conversation with him, but his mumbles are damn near incoherent so you just have to make up a conversation with him, ask questions, make jokes, spill the tea, and he’ll respond in some way. It’s pretty funny even if you don’t know what he’s saying.

Wataru: Oddly possessive in his sleep. Cuddles the whole night, will not let you go. Needs to have some kind of point of contact with you even if its just a knee on your leg, hand on your arm, or something simple. Prefers having more of you on him, though. Like Shingo, he’s mostly quietly but he hums in place of his sighs. With his voice being deeper than Shin’s, it somehow sounds more lulling if you’re still awake, like that deep hum that just makes you feel safe, comfortable, and even though he’s always pressed up on you, reassured that your man’s always there. Because there’s that reassurance and his possessive sleep nature, I feel like he’s a light sleeper. The kind of light sleeper that’s usually tired all the time, but it’s his normal and if he hears a noise that’s not usually in the room or house, something that isn’t background noise, he’ll wake up and just lay there listening for anything for a few minutes before falling back asleep if he deems there’s no threat.

Nobuhiko: As sweet as he is, I somehow see him as not a cuddler at all. Like he needs his space in order to fall asleep and does so facing away from you. Most likely a habit of falling asleep on a specific side and if you’re on the side of the bed that has him facing away from you, that’s just how its gonna be. He kinda hogs the blankets, but he also wakes up a few times a night for some reason and when he does wake up, he’ll readjust them over the bed and you before tapping back out. I see him as being a quiet guy too, so it’s easy to stay asleep with him.

Mako: Full on cuddler, but poor girl never got the chance to cuddle with anyone until she dates you. Due to the lack of physical affection, she’s a leech. Will stay cuddled up with you the whole night and is a quiet sleeper. She’ll occasionally let out light sighs, but they’re so quiet and cute it can’t possibly bother anyone. Blanket wars hardly exist since she’s stuck on you the whole time and if she does move, she just glides under the covers so they stay in place.

Sayuki: Needs to spread out, starfish style. Kinda sporadic when it comes to sleeping, she’s everchanging. Can fall asleep anyplace, anywhere like Shin as long as she has room to spread out. Will throw her leg over your or even weasel it under if its in her way lol. Same with her arms, she’s probably clocked you in the head a few times if she rolls over or goes to move it and it just kinda flings over. Moves a lot in her sleep so good luck getting those blankets back. Probably has dreams where she’s navigating Usui for Mako and ends up talking about the pass in her sleep about whatever Dream Mako has to avoid, how tight a corner to take, etc.

Kyoko: Also a huge cuddler. She probably mumbles mechanic stuff in her sleep, seeing as that’s her job. If you ask her about it the next morning, she’ll most likely remember her dreams, but be discombobulated about if it was real or not and what day it took place. But she could tell you fairly well what she was talking about, fixing, etc. Doesn’t move much unless she’s having a racing dream, her hand probably twitches when she’s dreaming of shifting gears.

#initial d #initiald #anime #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #anime fanfiction #initial d headcanon #initial d fanfiction #initial d x reader #takeshi nakazato #ryosuke takahashi #takumi fujiwara #shingo shoji #mako sato #koichiro iketani #headcanons

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tvkissercentral · 11 days ago

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I'm having some thoughts I'm struggling to articulate. So, excuse me if this comes out bad and jumbled, I'm in a bit of a state right now, especially since I am making a lot of these discoveries in a fragile emotional mood.

I think (more accurately, I have decided) I'm going to be distancing myself from Hazbin and HB in the future. Here's the thing, I try to be very open minded and, when someone is creating something that becomes widely popular with internet audiences, I prepare for fake BS and bad faith interpretations that I never want to judge a creator or their work for. I also try to be understanding of creator's with a large history on the internet cause yeah, I had terrible takes as a teen too, the important thing is correcting them in the present. I've never liked the creator or condoned a lot of her actions, but, finally being able to sort through the actual truthful allegations now that the shit storm has calmed down, her actions have crossed a line for me.

I am specifically talking about the transphobia directed towards transmen, which honestly to me justifies the discomfort I've felt for a while now about the creator's habit of making male characters with breasts but still insisting they're cis rather than just having a transman character, and the storyboarding incident. I understand and respect that, when it comes to the latter, everyone's perspective is going to be incredibly different. It personally makes me extremely uncomfortable, and I will only ever speak for myself on the matter. I've sat on the matter a lot myself, and there's no way I can spin it that makes me understanding of the situation, which should have never happened, in my opinion, and is made worse by the creator and the individual's tone deaf remarks on the situation.

No, this is not me trying to seem "high and mighty" compared to other Hazbin fans I'm close to. It is entirely up to other individuals whether they want to keep watching Hazbin or HB, and, though I will not continue to support the show or the creator, I still do plan to read and support the works of the fan writers I am currently following, along with still following the Hazbin selfshippers I know. I do genuinely think a lot of people are adding much needed nuance to some of the characters and ideas through their works, which is cool to see, and, at the current moment, this is not a "she who should not be named" type situation. Yes, I will keep my fics up for those who still want to read them, so no worries.

I rambled to get my thoughts down. So, what does this mean for this blog and my selfship with my main four bois? Well, here's the thing. With only season 1 out, my writer brain has created a lot of information about the characters that is just outright not canon. The canon versions of them aren't really my comfort characters, the versions I and other fans have made of them are. The same can be said about the world and how it operates, or more of struggling with dissatisfaction towards the canon system, and sprinkling my own little details in. Upon further thought, I have never liked canon/always felt strained by it, and it shows in my writing lol. I also have an S/I design I don't want to just throw into the dumpster. So, essentially what I want to do is take my "fanon" interpretations of these characters and turn them into OCs.

I just need to figure out:

How much to change.

What characters to convert and keep.

World details (probably something flexible and, since this is being done casually, nothing too extensive or amazing).

So on and so forth. Expect me to be looking over my fanfiction like a scholar trying to figure things out lol.

I know I may be the only one excited over breaking free like this (I am not excited for the reasons I have to), but I am and will enjoy my time making it so. Considering my grievances with the fandom I have spoken about before, and honestly V/ox's canon treatment, some of y'all can understand why. Please don't be a jackass about it. So yeah, just expect this blog to be a lot of thoughts about that going forward.

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viviettezheart · 11 months ago

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Jealous ★ Shinji Ikari

Note! Smut?, jealousy, angst, y/n is the fourth child (characters aged up!!!)

💌

"I see so you're telling me your head over heels for shinji ikari!?" Asked Misato you with a grin before taking a hit from her cigarette. "What no!" You almost shouted as you blushed but then you looked down. "Mabye i don't Really know!? Like i get jealous when he talks to Asuka or Rei even tho i shouldn't get jealous over this stupid things like this!" You explained while your legs started to bounce up and down quickly while you picked on your bottom lip. A habit of yours when you get nervous or when your trying to express yourself because that's nothing you can do so easily.

"Mabye you should talk to him about it?" She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. She threw her cig on the floor, stepped on it and put a hand your shoulder for you to calm down a bit. "I guess your right but what if-!" "Aht aht aht!" She stopped you by laying her finger on your lips for you to be quiet, what you then did.

You walked through Nerve's headquarters and saw Shinji talking to Asuka and its like if someone hits the jealous button, you get jealous all of the sudden and its making you think of all the times you been in this exact same situation. Shinji talks to someone else who is either a girl or an woman and you get instantly jealous. Asuka and Shinji stopped talking and you saw him coming in your direction. "hey ikari can we ehm mabye talk for a second?" You asked and he nodded not knowing your screaming inside your head. "Ehm okay how should i put it? I erm i get jealous!" "You get jealous? Jealous of what?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Jealous of you talking to other girls like Asuka or Rei and i know i have no right to get jealous since we aren't dating but i get jealous. Fuckk now its out and you know my secret and now you probably think i'm some crazy chick who is obsessed with you no its not that i-" "oh wow i wasn't expecting that!" He interrupted you with his reaction which left you wanting to sink in a deep puddle and never come up again. "I should probably go i-" "No wait (name)! I have to tell you something too!" "Oh really?" "Yes i also get jealous when you talk to our classmates especially when you talk to toji, i can see in his eyes that whenever he sees you he wants to fuck you." "I-" you were speechless until you just leaned forward and kissed his lips. To your surprise he kissed you too but to your misfortune Asuka saw you too kissing and she also always liked Shinji even tho she never showed it.

It was the next day after you kissed Shinji and Asuka has been acting really different lately, not that she stop talking about about you or anyone else but she also always looks in your direction like she expects you to say sorry but sorry for what?.

Asuka bumped into you in the school halls but you could clearly see that it was with intentions so you confronted it. "What is your fucking problem Asuka!?" You shouted after her but she didn't turned around just flipped you off with her middle finger. You rolled your eyes and walked in the opposite direction. "Mabye she saw me and you kissing Shinji and now she is upset about it?" You confessed to shinji who stroked your legs which where over his thighs.

"Babyy! And if she shes upset let her be!" He said and now stroked your thighs instead of your legs. His hands rolled up your short pyjama pants and started playing with the hem of your black lace panties. "Shinji not now?" "Why not? Come on baby!" "…Fine!" You agreed and laid down on your bed. It was dark, the only light in your room was the moonlight shining through your windows. Shinji pulled down your shorts + panties and began fingering you, two fingers rubbing your clit. He mabye doesn't know how to comfort but he definitely does know how to fuck.

You laid your arm over your eyes and just let Shinji do his thing, a few quiet moans and gasps leave your mouth but you mind still wouldn’t shake of that fact the Asuka is jealous now that you and shinji are dating. “Ah~shinji c-coming!” You whined loudly and gasped again as you orgasmd on his fingers.

The alarm went off, signaling that a Angel was near by. The four of you were walking to your EVAs while wearing your thigh body suits. Yours were pink which matched your dark brown hair.

The angel crashed Asuka’s EVA and as you saw it happen you were stuck like a deer in headlights but once you snapped out of it you moved your EVA to hers. You exit your own EVA, risking your life but you didn’t care in that exact moment, all you cared about was saving Asuka and that’s what you did.

You turned the wheel which was extremely heavily but you manged to open it and pulled Asuka out of the yellow hot liquid.

Misato was yelling at you through the small headphones you had in your ear but you didn’t care and put Asuka in your EVA while Shinji and Rei killed the angel. Asuka was brought into the hospital room, you sat outside of of the hospital room waiting for the doctors to finish so you can know if she’s going to make it out or not. A few minutes later a doctor came outside and told you good news, Asuka is in a healthy condition but she needs to rest. You nodded and went to your home which you share with Misato, Shinji and Asuka.

It was already late at night, around 2ish in the morning. you were sitting at the table in your one shoulder off sleeping shirt and some shorts from Shinji. drool was escaping the side of your mouth, you had fallen asleep on the table with a beer bottle in your hand.

Suddenly the door opened, tearing you awake from your slumber. You looked up, eyes widening as you saw Asuka standing at doorway. You rushed to her and hugged her, “do you know how worried i was for you!?” “Thank you… and I’m sorry” she whispered and returned her hug which surprised you a lot since you thought she hates you. Your hand patted her hair as she cried on your shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that your still alive” you said and continued patting her.

Misato woke up and wanted to grab herself something to drink, beer of course but then she saw you two hugging so she stayed in her room watching the two of you get along for a few minutes.

#neon genesis evangelion #shinji ikari #asuka langley soryu #misato #smut?#anime #anime character #jealousy #angst #rei ayanami #third story #shinji x reader

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concreteburialplot · 1 year ago

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VIRALITY // 10

10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.8k

summary: after waking up next to each other vallie & nicholas go their separate ways. vallie goes to visit an old friend who may be more than friendly. nicholas goes to sober up noah but doesn’t expect him to pull the curtain back on his resentment.

warnings: mentions about alcoholism/AA meetings/cheating, arguing, noah being annoying but what's new, tea is spilled !!, vallie is vulnerable for once in her life, lots of dialogue, alternating POVs sorry 🥲

A/N: Sorry it's been like 2 months since I’ve updated, it literally did not feel like it 🥲 school & life are kicking my ass lol + this chapter ended up being so complicated / difficult

Also! This chapter introduces a very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from the band Chase Atlantic - he's being used as a fun little temporary reoccurring side character. Don't worry, knowing who he is isn't necessary to understand his character lol i just think he's cute🥰

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

A jarring buzzing jolts me awake. I sit up a bit with scrunched eyes trying to follow the noise with a wandering patting hand. The noise leads to Vallie’s phone rattling on my bedside table next to her. I grab it and sleepily ignore the call out of habit.

In my still half-sleep state, I don’t want to be anywhere else besides where my body was curled up against her. I return to my spot with my arm around the brunette, tugging her closer. Her scent fills my nostrils when I nuzzle into her neck. The smell of her hair is peppermint-y and the scent on her skin reminds me of marshmallows and… matcha?

Whatever it is, it’s warm, cozy, and smells so yummy it makes me want to eat her again.

Before I have the pleasure of manifesting that thought into reality, her phone goes off vibrating again, this time making me significantly more aggravated.

I snatch the phone looking at her caller ID – the name plastered across the screen:

Christian

with some emojis I’m far too sleepy to decipher.

Christian?

I decide not to ignore her phone call from an evidently urgent caller.

“Hey, Hey.” I gently nudge her shoulder. “Your phone has been going off.”

She lets out a sleepy groan that is probably the cutest noise I’ve ever heard.

She takes one look at the ID and immediately ignores it and shoves it under the pillow.

Odd.

She yawns and rubs her eye, “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure.” I try to look at the edges of my window covered with blackout curtains trying to gauge even the time of day. “You have your phone, check it?”

Her fingers tap against the mattress. “It’s not that important.”

“Who’s Christian?” I blurt out without thinking.

From the angle I’m at, I can see her eyes widen a bit at the question.

She clears her throat. “What?”

“The person who kept calling you. It was someone named Christian?”

“Oh um,” She bites down on my lip, seemingly contemplating her answer. “He’s a friend.”

I’m filled with a feeling I’m not sure I enjoy nor one I should be feeling.

“A friend?” I ask, unconvinced.

It’s none of my business. It doesn’t matter who he is.

“Yeah, a friend.” She scrunches her brows at the wall. “Why do you care who’s calling me?”

“I-I don’t.” I reply but I know I’m a shit liar and I probably don’t sound very convinced. “I was just wondering.”

“Right.” She yawns then gets up in a panic like she just realized where she is. “Oh my god we fell asleep.”

“Yeah…I figured you gathered that by now.” I said falling down flat beside her.

“Fuck Nick, how am I gonna get out of here?” She scrambles for her phone beneath the pillow to finally check the time. “Fuck, fuck, I have to leave.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Let me just check out the house, I can take you to get your car.” I pull myself out of bed and let myself stretch out my arms above my head.

“Fuck.” She mutters, readjusting her entire torso in her tight top. “Remind me to never sleep in a corset ever again. I need to get out of this, can I borrow something?”

Her attention lands on me and at first, her forest greens are inquisitive and calm but when she actually looks at me, they widen. Her eyes slowly trail down my body and land where my shirt hangs above the exposed skin of my hips.

Watching her tongue slide between her lips makes my heart thump in my ear drums so loud I can barely hear what she’s saying.

“Also, can you um,” She clears her throat and looks back up at me, “Help me get this off?”

“Sure.” I nod and drop my arms back down.

She shifts in the bed so the zipper in the back of the faux-corset faces me. My fingers delicately gather her dark chocolate locks and drape them over her shoulder to get them out of my way. Her tan skin curves so beautifully from her neck to her shoulder that I feel as though if I don’t kiss her there it would somehow be insulting.

The need to kiss her there feels as necessary as air, so lean down and press a hesitant kiss to the crook of her neck as I begin unzipping her top.

She doesn’t stop me, which I was sure she would stop me now in the daylight.

Another kiss up, I linger more there.

Then another in the same spot, then another, and another, and another – until I am fully peppering her skin with open mouth kisses and my hands roam her curves.

She lets out little noises the closer I get to her ear that remind me of the ones she gave me when my tongue was inside her.

It’s not until I’m nipping and sucking at her skin that she speaks.

“Nick…” She whines in a tone that says ‘you know better’.

I tug down the rest of her zipper.

My lips still lazily drag up her neck.

I hum against her and let my hands wander down her sides to her hips. “Let me make you feel good.”

She lets out a shuddered whine but not a red or green light.

My hands round her hips giving them a gentle back and forth rub, “I need to taste you again.” I press another kiss against the sensitive skin below her ear and I can feel goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

My fingers burn everywhere they meet her skin and beg to be everywhere they shouldn’t be.

She closes her eyes and lets herself breathe for a second.

“Nicholas.” She repeats, more sternly this time. “I have to leave before anyone sees me.”

“I know.” I say simply and pull away, strategically resting both hands over my semi.

I know I shouldn’t press more. I know shouldn’t try to convince more. But god do I want to. All I’m thinking about is fucking her senseless.

She keeps a hand on the front of the corset to keep it flush on her skin. “Could I please borrow something?” She reminds me of her original request.

“Oh yeah sure, sorry.” I quickly scan the room for the closest item.

I spot a barely worn Deftones shirt and hand it to her.

“Thanks.”

She just sort of stares at me then makes a ‘turn-around’ motion with her hand.

“Oh, sorry.” I shift away from her. “It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up.”

I hear her let out a sigh of relief, probably from finally being freed from the constricting top.

“Okay you can turn around now.”

I turn back to her and find what I expected: her in my shirt.

What I didn’t expect was to somehow find her even more attractive in my shirt than even a lace corset.

As much as I’d like for her to stay, I fear that if I don’t get her out now, I’ll devour her whole.

“I’ll just… go scope out the area.” I thumb over my shoulder towards the door.

“Good idea.” She nods.

I very quietly sneak out of my room into the empty hallway, gently closing the bedroom door behind me.

After tiptoeing around the house, I find everyone asleep as it seems still quite early, at least for them.

The drive back to the bar is quiet and somewhat awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because of what we did or if I crossed some sort of invisible line and made her upset.

Or maybe both,

Maybe neither.

Maybe I’m over thinking it.

We haven’t talked about anything, no rules, no boundaries. I don’t know how I would bring that up to begin with. What the hell are we doing? And how do I feel about it. How do I want to feel about it?

We say goodbye and it’s stiff and odd. I’m not sure if I should kiss her? Or treat her like my colleague?

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

That one feels more like a maybe neither.

The way she acted this morning makes me think that whatever… this is, is over.

I know it should be done, but there is a part of me that doesn’t want to stop. At least not yet. Maybe if I got one more fix.

Regardless how I feel about it, it was a mistake. I knew that the first time, I knew it last night and I know it now.

Why did I let this happen. How did I let this happen?

I tap my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel once I’ve parked at home.

I know Folio wouldn’t really care but if Noah or Jolly found out about this?

Oh my god.

I don’t even want to think about what would happen.

All I know is two things.

One, I can’t keep fucking thinking about this – I can’t keep thinking about her.

Two, I unfortunately know what I need to do when I walk back through our front door.

-VALLIE-

As soon as my car door shuts behind me, I let out a long sigh that I wasn’t aware I was holding.

I fold my arms around my steering wheel and rest my forehead against it.

“Fuck.”

The entire ride home there was this nausea festering in the pit of my stomach.

I like being with Nicholas.

I like being with Nicholas too much.

And this stupid fucking Deftones shirt is too comfortable and smells too much like him – and I like it more than I should. And I need to get home as soon as possible to get it off me.

This is absolutely the last thing I needed – catching feelings or whatever the fuck is filling my chest with butterflies from someone I’m representing.

This is the band that I shouldn’t have even taken on in the first place, and now I’m here on the verge of vomiting because I miss the way his bed feels. This was not the plan.

I shake my head from the the thoughts as I walk through my front door. It’s just the dickmatization talking. That’s it. I like his dick and that’s all.

His huge fucking…

No.

And god his fucking tongue...

No.

This absolutely cannot be happening.

I won’t let this happen.

I need to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

I chuck my phone and keys on my dresser and use my palms to lean against the edge.

An abrupt buzzing of my iPhone against the hard wood shocks me from my dissociation.

Christian

…could be exactly what I need.

I slide the answer bar across the screen and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hey Kras.” I smile, using his nickname.

“Val!” He chimes cheerfully on the other line. “I’ve been trying to get ya all day!”

“I’m busy Kras, you know that.” I roll my eyes playfully. “What’s up, what do you want so badly?”

“Tour ended last week and I’m staying in LA for a bit for some band stuff before I head back home to Sydney.” He pauses. “I wanna see you. I need to talk to you about something.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath, suddenly stressed about what exactly that meant.

“Okay. When and where do you wanna meet up?”

“Today? My place?”

“Okay, see you then.”

After a much-needed shower I’m finally at the door of his temporary apartment. I smooth out my outfit, which wasn’t much really, just some sweats with a cropped tank. With as long as I’ve known Kras, it didn’t really matter what I looked like, but I still wanted to look cute. I use my hand to flatten my tied up hair to make sure there’s no ridges before I knock on his door. It doesn’t take long for him to answer it.

“Val.” He greets with his signature big goofy smile.

The tall, long-haired blonde envelopes me into giant hug and I embrace it. His scent fills my nose with memories; it’s soft, comforting, and most of all, fun.

Christian and I have always been close, he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. Our friendship has always been…interesting to say the least. I think most people would consider our dynamic complicated, but to us it’s quite simple.

I give him a good, hard squeeze around his midsection. “Augh, Kras I’ve missed you.”

He reciprocates the squeeze and places a kiss atop my head. “I missed you too.”

I pull away with a smile and smack his arm, “You don’t text me enough! I didn’t even know your tour ended.”

“Me? The phone works both ways Miss ‘You know I’m busy’” He mocks me jokingly.

“God, I forget how strong your Aussie accent is in person.” I chuckle, diverting the conversation.

I shiver at the ice-cold chill I get from his AC and rub my arms for warmth.

“Fuck it’s cold as shit in here.” It’s so frigid even my teeth chatter.

“Yeah, sorry I like it freezing. You want a jacket or something?” He offers then crosses the room when I nod.

He picks through some clothes in an open suitcase and hands me a multicolored flannel. I pull the flannel over my arms letting the material engulf my body.

After a brief catching up about tour and life, I lean against the wall and cross my arms.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about.” I cut straight to it.

He bites down on his lip, and I can’t tell if he’s excited or nervous.

Maybe both, maybe neither.

“We need a manager.” He blurts out.

“Oh? I thought you were working with-”

“We want you Val.”

I laugh, because surely, he can’t be serious. I don’t belong to an agency and work my two clients freelance, all on my own. There’s no way I could take on another band, especially one as successful as Chase on top of the other two.

“What? No, no, I absolutely couldn’t manage you guys…”

He steps towards me and trails his fingers down my arms and hooks onto my hands. “Sure you can. You used to, remember?”

I shake my head, “Oh, you know that doesn’t count Christian. We were nobodies – you were nobodies. Of course I could manage your measly little 10,000 Instagram followers.”

He squeezes my hands and tugs on my arms. “C’mon Val. It’ll be like the good old days. It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know about you, but living in a tiny LA apartment with three men struggling to afford food wasn’t really that good or fun.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs on my arms again. “For old times’ sake?”

I shake my head, “No, no, I already have enough on my plate. I just took on another band not that long ago.”

“Please Val, for us?” His brows curve up, and he gives me the biggest hazel puppy dog eyes that he knows I can’t say no to. “For me?”

I groan and rest my head back against the wall. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

His hands leave mine and find their way to my hips, slipping under the flannel so his hands are holding onto bare skin between my tank and my sweats. His forehead presses against mine.

“Is there anything I can do to help change that answer?” He asks between the small space separating us while his finger traces my jaw line tilting my chin up a bit.

I tug at my lip – this is partially why I came here right? To nip my Nick problem in the bud, to break the dickmatization spell.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I tease up at him with round eyes.

“Hm.” He hums and leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips and I freeze.

Even though we’ve done this a million times before, it just feels wrong now. Nicholas and I aren’t even… anything, we’re just fucking, right? But it still feels odd.

I know this feeling.

And I know what it means.

Fuck.

I pull away and give a little head shake.

“Plum?” He asks using our code word for when we’re interested in or dating someone else.

I groan loudly, shuffle past him to his bed in the studio apartment and dramatically fall flat, face down onto it. Then let out an even louder, longer groan.

He walks over and gently sits criss-cross on the bed next to me.

“Must be a pretty good Plum to have you like this.”

Our friendship was simple. We’re the rare example that a friends-with-benefits can be truly, purely platonic and casual. Kras is a generally affectionate guy, even with his bandmates. And he is one of the only people I feel comfortable being affectionate with, so I let myself be affectionate with him.

We are platonically affectionate best friends who fuck when we’re single. It sounds impossible but it’s who we are and who we have been for almost 10 years.

It’s nice, cozy, and convenient. Easy.

He’s safe, familiar, and reliable.

Which is more than I can say for any friendship or relationship I’ve ever had.

I turn my head towards him still flat against the bed.

“It’s bad Kras.”

“How bad?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “I work with him.”

His eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“…In the band you were talking about?”

I turn back to hide my face in his duvet. “Oh yeah.”

“Val noooo.”

I chuckle at how his ‘no’s sound like ‘naaauur’s.

“I knooow.” I whine into the sheets.

“Singer?”

I shake my head against the duvet.

“Guitarist?”

“Bassist.” I reply muffled in bedding.

“Oof.”

A laugh escapes me at his reaction. I pop my head up at him, “Stop, I know.”

I pull myself up and cross the bed to sit next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

“Maybe I just really like his dick.” I state confidently staring out the large window across the room. I blankly watch the daytime city lights flicker across the highrise-littered skyline.

“You think so?” He asks looking down at me a little. “I’ve never seen you get like this over just good dick. You’re pretty cut and dry about like…emotions. You’re good at separating sex from feelings.” He laughs and nudges me. “That’s why we work so well.”

I groan and hide my face in his shoulder because I know he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to shit like this.

“He sang to me Kras.”

“Oh god…was he any good?”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I nod against his arm, “It was so pretty.”

He laughs and tickles my side, “Look at you! You’re smitten! I never thought I’d see the day.”

I grab the nearest pillow and smack him with it, “Shut up!” then fall back flat and cover my face with it.

There’s a silence between us for a bit, a million things running through my mind, but Kras speaks for me.

“You know you can’t love him, right?” He says gently.

My brows furrow immediately, I slam the pillow down and shoot straight up.

“WHOA, whoa whoa.” I cut through the air with my hand. “Nobody ever said anything about…the L word. I do not…love him.” I can barely get the word out as if it’s something forbidden. “I barely fucking know him. I just like his dick.”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “You can’t like him. You know that right?”

“I don’t even know if I like him. We’re just fucking. That’s all.”

He glares at me with a face that screams, ‘yeah right’. “Well, fine, you know you can’t keep fucking him.”

I let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I thought coming here to fuck you would help.”

He laughs then tapers off in thought.

“Maybe we don’t actually have to fuck in order to help.” He suggests.

I raise a brow at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… guys normally don’t just sing to girls they’re casually hooking up with.”

“Okay…?” I motion for him to keep going.

“So, if it comes up or anything, you could just lie.” He shrugs.

“Lie about what?”

“About like, fucking someone else. If he likes you enough to sing to you, he probably won’t be happy if you tell him you’re fucking someone else. So, he’ll stop trying to fuck you.”

I chew on my thumbnail in thought, he’s right. Like always.

“Maybe. I don’t really know if he’d even care. We never really talking about anything… I thought we just had a silent agreement about just fucking, he never said anything about-”

“He sang to you Val.”

I anxiously twirl the ends of my ponytail and chew on my bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

He gives me the most ‘are you for real’ glare.

“Okay, okay.” I deflate. “IF it comes up, I’ll mention something.”

“Just don’t say who I am. I don’t know him, he could beat my ass." He laughs. "Plus, it would be pretty awkward for him to find out that you’re fucking a hot guitarist from your other band.” He smirks cheekily.

“Shut up.” I elbow his side playfully, “I never said yes.”

“But you will.”

I chew on my lip thinking it over.

On one hand, I’m already insanely busy and overworked with the two artists I’m already managing.

On the other hand, as odd as they are, they are old and close friends of mine. It wouldn’t be like managing strangers or learning a whole new fanbase, I helped build the foundation of the one they have now back in 2014.

And it would be a good distraction.

If this plan works out with Nick, maybe I could move on from Plum status and I can actually focus on my job.

“Fine. I’ll do it. BUT,” I hold a finger pointed towards him menacingly, “ONLY temporarily.”

“Ah yes! I knew you would!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around me and tackling me to the bed, pressing various ‘thank you’ kisses to my cheek.

“Okay, okay enough.” I chuckle trying to escape his grasp.

-NICHOLAS-

I let a long sigh at the bottom of the stairs, shifting my weight between both feet. I tap my fingers on the wooden railing anxiously. I probably shouldn’t be this rattled over something I’ve done a million times before. But it doesn’t get any easier.

I push myself up the stairs in one driving force knowing that it has to be me. It’s always me.

Never Folio. Never Jolly.

It’s always been my job.

There’s no response when I knock on Noah’s bedroom door.

I knock again, no answer.

So, I let myself in.

As expected, Noah’s passed out with a fresh bottle of whiskey half drank on his nightstand. His room still in as much filth as it’s been for a while. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen his room even remotely messy a handful of times, and this is the worst I’ve ever seen it. In the past I’ve known the reasons behind the mess or the drinking – usually over a breakup or some depression spell – but this time he kept me in the dark. I have no fucking clue what's going on with him.

If I wasn’t so aggravated with him already, the mess of the room would worry me even more than I already am.

I cross the threshold of garbage between the door and his bed and pat his cheek awake.

“Noah.”

Sleepy snores tumble from his mouth and while one might find them endearing, right now, they’re pissing me the fuck off.

“Noah.” I say more sternly, nudging him more. No luck.

I try various other ways, and nothing works. He’s out cold.

So, I try a tried-and-true classic.

I climb on top of him and straddle his waist over the duvet, one knee at each side of his hips. His boney exposed shoulders offer a great anchor so I grab them, shaking him awake.

He comes-to slowly, droopy heavy lids struggling to open. His fist goes to rub his tired eye but winces when he’s reminded of the swollen black and blue that surrounds it.

“The fuck are you doing?” He groans, stealing a pillow from beside him to cover his face. “Get off of me.”

I snatch the pillow from his grasp and toss it across the room. “No. You’re going to get up. You’re going to shower. And I’m taking you to a meeting.”

He shields his eyes with his arm. “I’m-I’m fine Nick, don’t need a meeting.” His words slurring together.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I correct.

“I don’t need a meeting.” He hiccups and I can smell the alcohol radiating off him, seeping through his skin. “I’m not going. I'm just gonna sleep.”

I grab his wrists, pin them to the bed and get low to his face. “Oh you’re going. We’re gonna sober you up, starting with a shower.” I pull off him and stand beside the bed.

“Let’s go. C’mon.”

“No.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way has the same result. Let’s go.”

“No.”

I sigh, even though I knew it would end up like this. “Fine. Hard way it is.”

I yank the sheets off him and use two arms to scoop up his body by his midsection and throw him over my shoulder. He’s thin enough to where even I can lift and carry him easily – or maybe I’ve just gotten used to the weight of him in my arms.

“Nick let me fucking go.” He whines but doesn’t try to wiggle out of my grasp, probably too hungover to move that much.

With every bit of my strength, I carry his thin body to his guest bathroom.

I all but toss him into the shower, start the water, and fling the curtain closed.

“Hey! What the fuck!” He yells and shuts off the water immediately.

He slings the curtain open and snatches a towel off the nearest rack, wrapping it around his shirtless torso.

“What the fuck is your problem, Nicholas!” His hands frantically wipe the water from his face.

I let out a frustrated groan and turn to leave. "Stop being a baby."

He steps out of the tub and calls after me, “Hey, I’m not fucking done talking to you!”

The shower shock did exactly what I needed it to do, sober him up, but now I regret even waking him up.

“My problem is that you’re a fucking drunk Noah.” I snap turning back to him.

“I’m not a fucking drunk, I have it under control. You’re just fucking paranoid!” He steps into the hallway dripping water all over the carpet.

“I’m not fucking paranoid, Noah. I’m not letting you drink yourself to oblivion.”

His brows lift in offense, “Let me? What the fuck are you, my fucking keeper?”

“Sometimes it sure fucking feels like I am!” The words escape me before I can stop them.

He chuckles in disbelief, “Well, nobody fucking asked you to be.”

“It doesn’t matter if anyone asked me to, I have to because who the fuck else is gonna pick your sorry, bruised ass off a bar floor in the middle of the fucking day?” My hand helps exaggerate each word.

“Jolly or Folio would’ve.” He sasses, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah? And how long you think they’d put up with that?” I step closer to him. “Not for as long as I have, that’s for fucking sure.”

His eyes scrunch together like he’s hurt or offended.

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

“I won’t let you push out everyone in our lives Noah.”

His eyes land on me and he cocks his head to the right a bit like a dog processing a foreign noise.

“‘Push out everyone in our lives’ is that what this is actually about? Alice?”

My gaze locks on him and my hands curl into tight fists at my sides. There are many words I want to say but none seem able to leave my tongue.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious.” He steps back and points defensively at me. "I didn't push her out, you did!"

My blood boils and burns as it courses through my veins. My eyes narrow at him.

“I know you fucked her Noah.” I shove my finger so hard into his chest that it nearly knocks him back.

“I didn’t even like her Nick! Why the fuck would I fuck her?” He immediately denies.

“Because you always have to have everything you want, including the things that aren’t yours.”

“‘Things’” He scoffs. “Funny how you’re so upset about someone you only see as a thing.”

My teeth grind so hard it makes my jaw clench, “You know she was never a thing to me until you fucked her.”

“Oh, give it a break Nicholas! Stop blaming me for her leaving.” His hands exaggerate his words then points straight at me. “You are the reason your relationship failed. You are the reason she left.”

My eyes narrow as I step closer to his soaked body. “I would really watch what you fucking say if I were you.”

“Or what?” He asks but I have no answer. “When are you going to stop punishing me for something I never fucking did?”

I watch his eyes: dark brown, heavy, bloodshot, and one lined with a dark bruise from the bar fight. His words sound genuine, but I know his eyes, I know them like the back of my hand.

I know when he’s lying, and he’s lying to me right now. I can’t prove it, I haven’t been able to, but I know he’s been lying to me for the past year.

“For the love of god Noah, can you just stop fucking lying?” I snap. "You don't even have enough respect for me to tell me the truth?"

“Wow.” He presses his lips together for a moment. “You must think so low of me to really believe that I would do something like that.”

“I don’t have to think low of you to believe the truth.” I hiss, stepping towards him. “But you’re going to keep denying it so it’s irrelevant what I believe did or didn’t happen. What I do know, is that you have a fucking problem, and you need help.”

He steps towards me with low brows and narrow beady eyes, “I didn’t fuck Alice and I don’t need a fucking alcohol anonymous meeting just because I still like to get drunk sometimes. I am a fucking adult, and I don’t need you to ‘save me’.” He scoffs and runs his tongue across his teeth. “You know? Maybe that’s what actually drove Alice away, you and your fucking high-and-mighty, savior complex bullshit.”

Every inch of skin on my body feels like its burning and my heart races so loud I can barely even think clearly. I tighten my fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms painfully. I know that if I do anything, it will make me look like the villain.

“I can’t fucking hit you because if I do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” I growl lowly. “Get sober or don’t, I don’t fucking care anymore – but we have a chance, a real chance at making it now and if you ruin this for us Noah, I will never fucking forgive you. Do you understand me? I will fucking destroy you if you fuck this up for us.”

His brows curve up and he looks at me like I’m insane for insinuating that he would. “I won’t.” He replies through gritted teeth.

I glance over the railing when I hear the house beginning to stir with Jolly and Folio starting to wake up, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I don’t need them getting involved.

“Just,” I lower my voice between us. “Make it to rehearsals, meetings, shows – the rest I don’t give a fuck. Just make it to work. Sober.”

“Fine.” He says quickly, "If that will keep you out of my fucking business and leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine."

"Fine." He repeats, because of course he has to have the last word, before storming off to his room and slamming the door behind him.

I mirror him, making it to my room and slamming the door.

Once alone, the feeling that courses through my body is nauseating, painful and overwhelming. It is a visceral ache, I feel it twisting in my chest first, in my ribs, then flows and pools in the pit of my stomach.

I thought I moved on from the Alice situation. I tried to force myself to believe him, I tried to forget and push it so far down that it wouldn’t hurt. Tried to rationalize, maybe he didn’t sleep with her. Maybe he didn’t betray me. Maybe it really is just me projecting the weaknesses of our relationship onto him. But no matter how hard I push it down, it always bubbles back up.

And in my gut, I know he did it. Everything adds up, the timelines, the behavior, all of it.

I was just never prepared for a girlfriend to cheat on me with my best friend. I was never prepared to have him sleep with my girlfriend. Not after everything we’ve been through.

I was never prepared to have my heart broken by the two people I trusted and loved more than anything in my life.

In retrospect, I guess, I should’ve expected it. For as long as I can remember Noah always had girls fawning all over him. He always had that lead singer charm even though he never planned on being a frontman. Girls were never an issue for him, he seemed to get anyone he ever wanted.

Is it really that far-fetched that the one I had wanted him too?

Is that all that this is going to be from now on? Any girl the rest of us want, would just want Noah first?

I never pictured that this would be our future.

I never pictured my best friend of over a decade fucking my girlfriend then lying about it to my face.

I never pictured having to drag said lying, alcoholic best friend out of bed trying to get him to an AA meeting just so he could be sober enough for rehearsals.

I never imagined that out of the four of us, it would be me having to hold it all together. I never signed up for that. I signed up to play an instrument, to sign CDs, sleep in busses and sit in interviews. I never signed up to play manager, I never signed up to secretly scrape Noah off bar floors, be his personal caretaker and tentative AA sponsor. Doing all of that just to have it thrown in my face, to stand next to him – every day in rehearsals, in photoshoots, on stage, across the fucking dining table – knowing what he did and pretending that I’m okay with it.

I never thought I’d feel stuck in this band, this thing Noah and I have worked on and dreamed about since we were 15. I’ve poured so much of my life into this fucking band.

I can’t just up and leave. I’d have nothing left. I’d be nothing without them and I can’t be the bomb to blow us up. Especially not now when everything is just starting to take off. All this work would’ve been for nothing.

It’s not just my livelihood and dream, but theirs as well. I can’t do that to them.

And as much as I want to, as much as I’ve tried, I can’t leave Noah. We both know I’m right whether he wants to admit it or not. Nobody else would do what I do, nobody knows what I do, and nobody knows how to take care of him the way I do. He’s stubborn and stupid and won’t let anyone else in the way he’s let me in.

I don’t know why I’m the only one who has gotten the curse of his trust, but I have it and I can’t hand it off or set it down – no matter how heavy or suffocating it is.

Next Chapter -> 11 - Peak Fashion

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: The love for this story has honestly been so overwhelming (in a good way obv) and I couldn't be more grateful. I really thought this would flop lol so, thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

#2 POVs bc i was feeling SILLY #& by silly i mean the characters were not cooperating with the assignment #sorry if this chapter is all over the place i was having so much trouble with this one #this is the first time i’ve ever had multiple POVs in one chapter & i can’t tell if i like it or not #vallie wears princess by kilian perfume #i love how vallie's character is developing #i think vallie & kras' friendship came out so cute 😭#nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x oc #nick ruffilo x oc #nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc #bad omens x oc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x fem!oc #virality series #virality #christian anthony #christian kras anthony #christian anthony fanfic #kras anthony fanfic #chase atlantic #chase atlantic fanfic #concreteburialplot works

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auty-ren · 2 years ago

Text

Never the Right Time

Joel Miller - The Last Of Us

Pairings: Joel Miller x Reader (Reader is afab, no pronouns/use of y/n)

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut ( oral sex(fem receiving). vaginal sex. rough sex. oral fixation. dirty talk/bedroom talk. unprotected sex.), Repressed feelings, Joel being a stubborn old man. Some implied drinking (no alcohol is named, just ‘drinks’).

A/n: I absolutely fell in love with The Last Of Us series and I had so many feelings for Joel I just had to get them out! I might do a few more fics for him but this is a standalone...for now. Enjoy babes💕 (gif by @pedrohub)

Summary: “Hey,” you shrug and look down at your drink. “I was just trying to be nice.”

You take a sip of your own drink, keeping your eyes on him through your lashes. He stares right back, almost like he wanted you to say something so he could react. You lower your cup, almost batting your eyes as you blink at him. You swear you can see a little bit of a blush creep up his neck.

“Is that what you do?”

My Masterlist

“Ellie bet I couldn’t get you to dance.”

You wanted to be smug. Calm, cool, collected. But you’re sure you probably looked like an idiot; cheeky grin, trying to play it cool as you lean against the porch railing.

There was just enough lighting that you could make out his profile, soft glowing bulbs hung on strings to illuminate the party and it made him look soft. His normally sharp features looked rounded and comfortable.

“Did she?”

He smiles and it reaches all the way to his eyes. It surprises you a little, how easily he opens up when before he’d been so different. You hadn’t had many conversations before this, at least they never got past the small talk stage before one of you got shy. Maybe it was the party or the feeling of a new beginning with the coming spring, but something was a little different, especially in the way he carried himself, his shoulders were strong and light, much different than before.

“Well, I figured you just had two left feet, Miller.”

His eyes were almost sparkling, almost mischievous in nature. Joel was a lot of things but mischievous wasn’t the way you’d describe him, and yet it almost felt childlike. It looked like little stars were speckled in his irises, shining and reflecting in the low light of a setting sun.

“Thought maybe you’d want a teacher.”

He lets out a sound like a scoff, but you don’t miss how the corner of his mouth perks up, pulling his face into a grin. You could tell it made him just a tad nervous, your presence. His face was mostly calm but he picked at his hands, scraping the skin around his nails from nervous habit.

You follow his gaze as he looks out onto the landscape, it was just barely turning spring, everything was green and budding with new life and the air felt warm and fresh. It felt good. The winters were rough in Jackson and you’d started to lose yourself a little, but the breeze felt good. Everything felt good at this very moment. You looked back to find Joel staring at you.

He was wearing a simple shirt, worn, with a few stray threads hanging from the seams. It obviously had its fair share of owners, but it was clean and still looked good on him.

“Can you at least take the drink?”

You hold it out to him, waiting as he looks between you and the cup. He finally takes it from you, your fingers just barely brushing as you pass it to him. He swirls the liquid around a little before he takes a sip

“Thanks.”

Right now feels like the part where you should be walking away. The ice had been broken but you’d pretty much hit a wall. He wasn’t giving any indications of what he wanted from you.

If there was anything he wanted from you.

“You really got nothing else better to do?”

You’d almost think he was bothered if it wasn’t for the stupid-looking smirk on his face. It was his turn to be suave, or at least try. He leaned against the railing on the porch, mirroring your position from earlier.

“Hey,” you shrug and look down at your drink. “I was just trying to be nice.”

You take a sip of your drink, keeping your eyes on him through your lashes. He stares right back, almost like he wanted you to say something so he could react. You lower your cup, almost batting your eyes as you blink at him. You swear you can see a little bit of a blush creep up his neck.

“Is that what you do?”

He tilts his head, almost like he’s challenging you; the low timber of his voice settling nicely in your bones. You practically turn to mush from the stupid look on his face; cocky, but bearable.

“What?”

It’s infatuating, in fact. You’re barely able to focus now, everything about him overwhelms you.

He feels safe. Not awkward or unpleasant like times you’d spoken before, it’s like whatever veil that shrouded him was slowly lifting and you peeked underneath to see the genuine parts of him. The parts he’d spent over two decades hiding away.

You naturally lean in closer, drawn into his side where your bodies kinda fit naturally together. It feels perfect.

“Charity.”

He nearly spits out the word, like it’s dirty and foul.

The proverbial record comes to a screeching halt. You tense a little, taken aback by his sudden change in tone.

But then again look who you’re talking to.

“Liking you is charity?”

It comes out before you can really think it through. The look on his face is enough to make your stomach turn. It wasn’t anger or discomfort, something that you had expected from him, it almost felt like disappointment etched across his face.

“That’s how most people put it.”

Quit while you’re ahead.

Your fingers barely touch his, even though he’s pulled away he doesn’t flinch away from this touch. His knuckles feel rough in comparison to yours, your pinkie just barely trailing along his skin, like you just wanted to become familiar.

“Maybe I’m not most people, Miller.”

His hand moves just a bit, not away from you, he’s inching closer. You feel your breath catch in your throat as his pinkie catches yours, just barely hooking yours to intertwine with him.

“Did you ever think about that?”

Your chest almost puffs out a little, and you’re proud of the way he looks at you. He’s almost curious like he’s studying you, lying in wait while every little movement goes under his scrutiny. Normally feelings like this would be enough to send you running, but you almost wanted this from him. Just the barest hint of attention made your heart seize up in anticipation.

It felt like a movie. Those old romantic black and white movies they’d play on movie nights, the ones where the girl and the guy dance around each other until the tension just breaks. It was probably silly to dream bout being the leading lady, and having a man like him chase after you. But it felt nice to dream.

Right now the dream felt so real.

He reaches up and almost touches your face, just barely brushing a piece of your hair out of your eyes. You had been staring so hard you hadn’t noticed it had fallen.

Was this it? The moment when you get your kiss?

Did you imagine he was leaning closer? That he was looking at you like you were the only girl on the face of the planet.

“Joel?”

You wanted a kiss. You wanted this to be a picture-perfect moment for the two of you, something out of a cheesy old romance novel with a tacky picture on the front. He, the strong hero sweeping you off your feet.

He looks at you like he’s pleading, like he’s afraid of something but he just needs your permission first. You take his hand into yours and give it a gentle squeeze. He turns it over so yours is held delicately in his grip, his thumb rubbing little circles into your skin.

You close your eyes, anticipating him to move closer, to take you in his arms and hold you like you were his lifeline.

The touch never comes. The kiss never comes. Nothing happens as it does in your head.

He just walks away.

“Joel?”

He says nothing, and the silence alone feels heavy enough to ground. It’s different from the other times, this is thick and heavy, and you can practically reach out and grab the tension brewing between you.

It’s practically freezing this late at night, the cold nipping at your cheeks as you watch him. More like waiting for him. To do what? You’re not exactly sure, but he looks like there’s something he needs. Something he wants to say. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out, he just closes it and grinds his jaw, like he’s kicking himself for not doing it right.

You didn’t know what he wanted, but he didn’t seem the type to just waltz onto people’s porches in the middle of the night.

You only move out of the way as he crosses the threshold, bumping into you as the signal to move inside. He removes the door from your hands and slams it shut, blocking the exit. The sound echoes through the house and all that’s left are the little puffs of your breath as his eyes scan your face. He’s dark and intense, almost challenging you to say something that would stop him.

His touch is rough, calloused hands that grab and pull you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you grounded to him. You let yourself get swept up in his arms, in his gaze that felt like fire washing over you. His eyes were like smoldering coals, black with remaining hints of warmth just flickering in the light.

He kisses you and it feels just like you had dreamed, warm and glowing with just a little bit of roughness around the edges. He devours any sound you make, he’s eager and almost aggressive in his movements.

His hands are ripping and pulling at your body, moving you to the nearest surface in your living room so he can get more of you. You both stumble and barely make it to the couch without hitting the floor. He pushes you down and the old furniture creaks loudly, almost echoing through the house as he climbs on it with you.

Even in the dark, he notices. He stops dead in his tracks at the grip you hold on the cushions and the hint of uncertainty that flashes across your face.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

The words rumble deep inside his chest, bubbling up in his throat with a soft, gentle tone. It’s almost loving how he caresses your face.

Loving.

He wanted to reassure you. He slows to a near stop, looking at you as he reaches for the hem of your shirt, just barely pushing it up. He checks in with you, flickering glances to confirm you still wanted him, that you wanted his touch. You can’t help how you squirm when his fingers press into your cunt, even through your underwear just that little pressure was enough to have you melting.

He just watches you through it all. You don’t even notice at first that he’s staring; you make eye contact and feel the heat spread all the way down your neck out of embarrassment.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, just barely audible even in the quiet of your empty home.

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

You lift your hips to help him remove your underwear. His touch leaves you only for a fraction of a second before he’s back on you. Warm, calloused hands spread your thighs wider with delicate precision. The gentleness was so unlike him, but the passion was still there, the eagerness set behind a low brow as he memorized your every detail.

He mumbles against your thigh, burying his nose against your skin and inhaling. He leaves a little trail of kisses, his facial hair leaving tiny little scratches while his mouth moves softly down to your pussy. He stops at the juncture of your thigh and looks up at you, almost pouting as his arms snake under your thighs and pulls you closer.

His mouth just hovers over your cunt, and your clit throbs as he gently blows on your slit. You whimper, unable to keep eye contact any longer as you close your eyes, just barely arching your hips closer to him.

His mouth feels like fire when he finally touches you, spit dripping from his tongue onto your cunt that burned and had you squirming with need. You run your fingers through the length of his hair, playing with the curls between your fingertips as you moan his name.

He fumbles a little, his movement doesn’t have the expert precision he was probably used to. Still, he made you sing. Every sigh, every whimper, every curse that fell from your lips was just fueling his need. He squeezes your hips to keep you still, just a little warning for you as his eyes pin you down with a look.

Your body is scorching, almost overwhelmed as you feel the coil in your belly turn impossibly tighter. You shake from the effort of trying to hold on, to keep this moment suspended for eternity just so you can keep him like this.

Somewhere between the haze, he climbed on top of you, just barely letting his weight press into you. It was a comforting pressure, welcomed as you slip and let your legs wrap around his hips. He’s still fully clothed, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against you, sending you into overdrive. You play with the buttons of his shirt, slowly opening them more and more until he gets the message, pulling away enough to slip the shirt off his shoulders.

He goes to take off his belt and for a moment he looks nervous, scared even. You can tell by how he avoids your eye when a moment before he looked like he’d eat you alive, and now he’s so timid.

He’s surprised by your touch, and how careful you are when you gently place your hand over his, urging him to let you take over. He relents, there’s almost a hint of relief on his face, with just a hint of something else.

Craving?

Did he crave your touch?

You wonder if he had imagined this moment before, imagined the little noises you’d make, the feel of you beneath him, and how warm you’d be when he fucked your cunt. You’re ashamed to admit it but, he’s been the topic of more than a few daydreams. It felt a little embarrassing, to the point you almost didn’t talk to him earlier at the party but all of those doubts melted away when he finally slipped his cock inside you.

A pathetic noise came out of your mouth. You were more than ready for him but everything felt so heightened. You clung to his shoulders as he rocked his hips, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

He was definitely holding his breath, you could feel his back muscles tensing almost to the point of pain. You rub little circles into his skin, trying to be comforting so he’ll relax, just barely dragging your nails down his skin.

He sits up a little, looking you over before his eye settles on your face. His hand comes up and just tips your chin, his thumb rubbing against your jaw.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you.

You didn’t think this sort of thing happened outside of a movie, or those old cheesy romance books some of the girls sneak around the library. But the world does sort of get foggy, blurred around the edges so you can only see him.

You wonder if he’s feeling the same.

If he feels this sort of ache that sometimes you can’t describe.

You sort of get an answer from him because he kisses you.

He kisses you and it feels like your whole world is set aflame, blazing and roaring in your ears as he steals the literal breath from your lungs.

You brace yourself as he grabs your lower half, one hand gripping your thigh while the other pins your hips down. He doesn’t stop kissing you and if it weren’t for his weight pressing into you, you swear you would’ve floated away by now. He gets a little harsh, almost desperate and you don’t mind. Every time his cock brushes against your cervix you whimper pathetically into his mouth.

But it only seems to spur him on.

“Shit.” He grits through his teeth, his grip on your body nearly painful as he slams his hips against yours.

He pants, almost whimpering in your ear as he cums.

You don’t say anything, just gently nuzzling his shoulder as he comes down from his high.

He’s gentle again, almost remorseful in his movement now. He pulls away and you feel the mess between your legs, he mumbles something under his breath but you can’t make it out. You feel too tired to try and make the effort of conversation anyway, so you just let him clean you, reaching out and putting your hand on his.

You just wanted the comfort.

You didn’t even want to begin to think about what you’d say when the afterglow wore off. Your bodies would probably become stiff and uncomfortable, emotions heightened and awkward just like before. Would he even want to speak to you again? Was this just…release?

You scold yourself for already overthinking.

It didn’t matter what would come in the next few hours, because for now, you had this.

This little, tiny shining moment when you get to hold him. Playing with his hair while he hums, practically asleep on your chest. Maybe it wasn’t much but, you’d take it. Just a hint of intimacy, real intimacy - not just sex but the kind of thing that you feel deep in your bones. The warm, sticky, addictive kind of intimacy that you had craved for too long.

Nothing was for certain, and you remind yourself not to think too much about it. But from your angle, as you strained to look down as he rested on your chest…It looked like he was smiling.

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