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reissancesstuff · 2 days ago

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“WHO are you?”

sypnosis: you're too drunk to recognize your boyfriend.

warnings: alcohol (reader is drunk), swearing.

featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, sukuna ryomen.

Gojo

You are absolutely, unapologetically, undeniably wasted.

You don’t even remember how many drinks you’ve had. All you know is that the room is spinning, your heels are in your hand, and you’re sitting outside the club on the curb with a pout that could kill a man.

“Satoru,” you mumble, squinting at your phone. “Why hasn’t he called me back? That bastard.”

You’re just about to text him for the eighth time (your phone is upside down, for the record) when a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“There you are,” the voice says, amused. “You’re lucky I’m sexy and patient.”

You blink up, shielding your eyes from the moonlight—or maybe it’s the streetlight, or maybe it's the glowing aura of the man standing in front of you.

He’s tall. White-haired. Wearing a black coat and sunglasses, at night, like a menace.

You frown.

“Who,” you say seriously, “the fuck are you?”

He freezes.

You narrow your eyes further, wobbling to your feet and poking his chest.

“Back off, handsome stranger,” you declare. “I already have a boyfriend.”

He sputters. “Handsome? Wait—”

“He’s the love of my life,” you say proudly. “Six feet of nonsense. White hair. Smug face. He’s so annoying. But like, in a hot way.”

“…That’s literally just me,” he deadpans.

“Nooo,” you slur. “Satoru’s prettier.”

His jaw drops. “Excuse me?! I AM SATORU!”

You gasp. Loudly.

“Oh my god. You’re one of those crazy fans.”

“What???”

You stumble back, dramatically offended. “You wanna be him, don’t you? Is that why you dyed your hair? Is this cosplay?!”

Gojo stares at you, dumbfounded.

You wave your heel in the air like a sword. “Back off! I’m loyal!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Sweetheart—”

You cut him off, whispering, “Don’t call me that. Only Satoru calls me sweetheart.”

“…I am Satoru!”

A pause. Then, suddenly, you gasp again—like your brain has rebooted.

“Wait… You sound like him,” you say slowly, brows furrowing. “Say something only Satoru would say.”

He leans in, lips grazing your ear.

“I know how you like it when I kiss that one spot on your thigh.”

You shriek, smacking his chest. “Okay you’re him!!”

He laughs—loud, stupid, proud.

“I hate you,” you mumble into his coat as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

“You said I was hot,” he hums smugly. “I’m never letting that go.”

“You’re annoying,” you grumble, snuggling into him anyway. “Still prettier in my head.”

He kisses your forehead. “Good thing I’m also prettier in real life.”

---

By the time he gets you home, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

You wake up the next morning with a hangover, a glass of water on your nightstand, and a sticky note on your forehead.

"Handsome Stranger says hi. —Your boyfriend 💙"

You groan, burying your face in the pillow.

God, he’s never gonna let this go.

But honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Geto

You’re drunk.

Like, embarrassingly drunk.

Like, sitting outside the izakaya barefoot with your shoes in your lap and a half-eaten skewer in your hand, slurring into your phone like it’s your long-lost best friend.

“Where the hell is Suguru?” you mumble. “I’m cold. And also beautiful. I deserve a ride.”

A shadow falls over you.

You look up—slowly, dramatically—and see a tall, broad figure standing above you, dark hair in a low bun, wearing all black like he’s auditioning to be a villain in a slow-burn romance anime.

“Get up,” he says. Calm. Deep. Familiar.

You squint. “Oh my god.”

He raises a brow. “Yes?”

“You’re hot,” you whisper.

He sighs. “Baby, it’s me.”

“No,” you say, pointing a threatening skewer at him. “My boyfriend is nicer. He’s sweet. And warm. And smells like sandalwood and chaos. You look like a mafia boss. You probably steal hearts and credit cards.”

Suguru stares at you like he’s questioning all his life choices.

You stand up—well, try to—and nearly fall into him. His arms catch you effortlessly, like it’s muscle memory.

You shove a finger in his chest. “I’m taken. My boyfriend will kill you.”

“Will he?” he asks, humoring you. “Violent type?”

“The worst,” you say proudly. “He once glared at a guy so hard his hairline receded.”

“Sounds terrifying.”

“He is,” you nod seriously. “And he calls me ‘sweetheart’ when he wants something.”

Suguru exhales a laugh, something low and fond. “Okay. What if I prove I’m him?”

You blink at him, considering. “…Fine. Do it.”

He steps close, close enough that his chest brushes yours.

“Two weeks ago, you said if I didn’t let you adopt a cat, you’d put glitter in my shampoo.”

Your jaw drops. “How did you—?!”

“Three days ago, you cried because a dog in a TikTok wore boots.”

“And last night,” he leans in, brushing his lips by your ear, “you told me I’m your favorite ‘tall dark and dangerous’ man, but you’d leave me instantly for Keanu Reeves.”

You gasp. “Suguru?!”

“Yes.”

“OH MY GOD.” You slap his arm. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!?”

“I did.”

You cling to him, dramatic as ever. “I missed you. You smell good. Don’t ever leave me again.”

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you bridal style toward the car, shaking his head with the softest smile.

“You’re gonna regret all of this in the morning,” he murmurs, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I regret nothing,” you slur. Then squint up at him. “Wait. Did you really glare a guy’s hairline off?”

“…That one might’ve been a little exaggerated.”

“Still hot.”

---

The next morning, you wake up in Suguru’s hoodie, with water, painkillers, and a sticky note on your phone:

“Mafia Boss says thank you for your compliments. You’re under permanent protection now. —Your real boyfriend 💌”

You bury your face in the pillow.

He’s never letting this go.

And honestly? You’re kind of glad.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Nanami

You’re sitting on a curb, absolutely wasted.

There’s glitter on your eyelids, chicken nuggets in your purse, and a girl from the bar sobbing beside you because her ex posted a gym selfie.

You offer her a nugget.

“You deserve better,” you tell her. “You’re gorgeous. Your eyebrows are, like, symmetrical. I’d marry you.”

She sniffles, then stares behind you. “Uhh… is that your boyfriend?”

You turn.

And see a tall, broad man walking up, sleeves rolled, tie loose, face unreadable—like God sent a male model from a finance firm to collect wayward souls off the street.

You frown.

“You look expensive,” you say slowly. “Are you one of those… high-end butlers?”

He stops in front of you. “You’re drunk.”

You blink. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m your boyfriend.”

Your jaw drops. “No you’re not. My boyfriend is… emotionally repressed. Wears beige. Has a sexy office job and a judgmental stare.”

Nanami sighs. “That’s me.”

You squint suspiciously. “Okay, if you’re really my boyfriend… what’s my weirdest habit?”

He looks down at you, voice flat. “You talk to plants. You name them. One is called Baby Groot. You cried when he lost a leaf.”

Your lips part. “Only he would know that…”

You wobble to your feet and nearly fall, catching yourself on his very firm chest. You clutch his shirt.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “You are my sexy office man.”

“Let’s go home,” he mutters, guiding you gently toward his car.

You dig your heels into the ground. “Wait! Waitwaitwait—don’t kidnap me! I have a boyfriend!”

“You just admitted I am your boyfriend.”

“…Oh. Right.” You giggle. “Lucky me.”

He helps you into the passenger seat like you’re fragile cargo. Once seated, you stare at him as he buckles you in.

“You’re so handsome,” you murmur.

“I know.”

“And patient.”

“I have no choice.”

“You’re gonna marry me one day.”

His hands still for half a second.

Then: “I already plan to.”

You pass out smiling.

---

The next morning, you wake up in bed, dressed in your comfiest pajamas, with a glass of water, aspirin, and a note:

"In case you forget: yes, I am your boyfriend. No, I am not a butler. Please hydrate. —Kento"

You giggle into the pillow.

You’re definitely going to marry that man.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Toji

You are sitting on a barstool, double fisting two very illegally strong cocktails, laughing at absolutely nothing.

You're also very certain that a hot man is trying to kidnap you.

“Ma’am,” the man says, standing in front of you like an irritated wall of muscle. “It’s me.”

You look him up and down.

Black hair. Green eyes. Tall. Scary aura. Tight shirt. Very very hot.

But no. You're loyal.

You squint. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose. “I picked you up from karaoke an hour ago.”

“Impossible,” you say dramatically. “My boyfriend would never show up to karaoke. He thinks fun is ‘a scam made by broke people.’”

“That’s exactly what I said,” he grunts.

You gasp. “You are hot though. Like, really hot. But listen—my boyfriend? He’s kinda mean, super strong, and terrifying. He could totally kill you.”

He stares.

You continue: “He’s also soooo good in bed. Real monster. Demon behavior. But he’s mine, so—”

Toji grabs your wrist. “Get your ass up.”

You gasp again. “You’re aggressive. Just like him. But he’d never touch me like that in public unless I pissed him off.”

“Oh?” he says, voice flat. “You mean like getting blackout drunk, threatening the DJ, and petting strangers' dogs without asking?”

You tilt your head. “So you do know me...”

“I live with you.”

You lean forward, squinting hard, then grab his face between your hands. “Say something only my boyfriend would say.”

He deadpans, “If you puke in my car again, I’m charging you five grand.”

Your mouth drops open. “Toji?!”

“Finally.”

You throw your arms around his neck. “Where have you been all night?!”

“Chasing your drunk ass down. Again.”

He tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts walking to his car.

“Wait,” you slur. “You’re not gonna murder me, right?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“But I’m your babygirl…”

He opens the car door. “You’re my goddamn headache.”

“Love you too!”

---

The next morning, you wake up with a hangover and a bruise on your hip that looks suspiciously like the edge of Toji’s shoulder.

You check your phone.

1 New Message from Toji

📸 [photo of you passed out face-first in his passenger seat, drooling]

Toji: Don’t drink again unless I’m there. Dumbass.

You smile.

Your murderous, scary, mean boyfriend is the best.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Sukuna

You’re absolutely, irreparably hammered.

How do you know?

Because there is a gorgeous man standing in front of you with piercings, tattoos, and arms you’d like to sit on — and instead of flirting with him, you’re loudly sobbing to your friend.

“He’s gonna kill him. He’s gonna kill the hot guy,” you sniff.

“Who?”

“That guy,” you point at the very man you’re talking about. “He’s hot but he’s not my boyfriend. But he’s gonna die. My boyfriend is crazy.”

The man in question — the hot one — drags a hand down his face. “You’re drunk off your ass.”

You nod solemnly. “Yes. And you should leave before he finds you.”

“I am your boyfriend.”

You blink. “Noooo, my boyfriend has tattoos—”

He lifts his shirt.

“—oh my god you have tattoos,” you whisper.

“And piercings.”

You stare at the twin bars through his eyebrow and the silver glint on his tongue as he smirks.

“My boyfriend has those too!” you giggle. “But also, he’s terrifying. He’d murder you in an alley for touching me.”

He steps closer. “You mean like this?”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you flush against him.

You freeze. “Bold of you, hot stranger.”

He leans in, voice low and dark in your ear. “You bit me last time I tried to wake you up from a drunk nap.”

You gasp. “Sukuna?!”

“Yeah, baby. It’s me.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, sharp canines grazing your skin. “Now let’s get you in the damn car before I dump you in a gutter.”

You wrap your arms around him, eyes wide. “You’re so mean. I love you.”

“I know you do, dumbass.”

---

The next morning, you wake up to an ice pack on your head and a water bottle on your nightstand. Sukuna is sitting at the edge of the bed, scrolling his phone.

“…Did I threaten you again last night?” you mumble.

“You told me you’d report me to the FBI if I didn’t prove I was your boyfriend.”

“Oh god.”

“You also called me ‘Mr. Jail Tattoos’ and asked if I knew I was hot.”

“I hate myself.”

He glances at you with that lazy smirk. “You said, and I quote, ‘I wanna kiss you but my boyfriend’s gonna beat your ass.’”

You pull a pillow over your face. “Did you beat your own ass?”

“Nah.” He shrugs. “But I did let you tackle me onto the bed. You drooled on my neck.”

“…Love you?”

He flicks your forehead. “Be less dumb next time.”

You grin. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Jail Tattoos.”

And he does, in fact, tackle you right back.

1K notes · View notes

inseobts · 12 days ago

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I’m Your Husband

fem!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, shanks and ace

tags: fluff, light comedy, established relationship, protective, pda

a/n: sorry for playing so much with ace T.T

words count: around 1.3k - 1.4k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The sun is down. The sky is dark, but the town is bright with lights and music.

You just finished eating at a small place by the sea. The food was great. Now, the crew stands outside, full and happy.

Luffy stretches his arms “Alright! Let’s go explore!”

Usopp nods “Let’s split up! We’ll cover more ground!”

You feel warm. Maybe too warm. That third drink… or was it the fourth? Either way, your head is spinning just a little. But your smile won’t leave your face.

Nami pulls out a map “Okay, I’ll go with Sanji, Chopper, Zoro, and Y/N.”

“Eh? Why am I in that group?” Zoro asks, already frowning.

Nami smirks “Because I said so. Try not to get lost this time.”

You giggle and stumble a little “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

Zoro looks at you, arms crossed “You can’t even stand straight.”

You step forward and grab his arm “That’s why I need you.” Your voice is soft. Sweet. Maybe a little loud.

Zoro freezes. His cheeks turn the faintest pink. He glances around—people are watching “H-Hey. Don’t cling like that.”

You grin and press your cheek to his shoulder “But you’re warm.”

“Oi, marimo,” Sanji says, cigarette between his lips, “If she wants to hold you, let her. You lucky bastard.”

“Shut it, curly-brow,” Zoro mutters “She’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you mumble “Just happy.”

Chopper runs ahead, excited “Let’s find some cool shops!”

You keep holding onto Zoro’s arm as the group walks. He keeps trying to shake you off, gently. But you won’t let go.

“Y/N,” he says in a low voice “People are staring.”

“So?” You look up at him with a small smile “I like holding you.”

He sighs “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me” you tease.

He looks away, his voice barely a whisper “…Yeah.”

You blink “What?”

“Nothing” he grunts.

Nami glances back and smiles “You guys are so cute.”

Zoro groans “Don’t start.”

You lean even closer “Zoro~”

“What now?”

“Carry me.”

“No.”

“Pleaaase?”

Sanji laughs “I’ll carry you, mademoiselle—”

“No!” Zoro snaps. He sighs again and crouches “Fine. Get on.”

You cheer quietly and hop onto his back. Your arms go around his neck “Zoro’s the best…”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t puke on me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, finally closing your eyes.

Zoro walks, steady and strong, even with you on his back.

Behind you, Nami whispers to Sanji, “He’s totally soft for her.”

Sanji shrugs “Still don’t get what she sees in that mosshead.”

Zoro’s ear twitches “I can hear you, idiots.”

The streets are quieter now. Fewer lights. Fewer people.

You’re still on Zoro’s back, half-asleep. Your cheek rests against his shoulder. His body is warm, and his footsteps steady.

Sanji walks ahead with his hands in his pockets. Chopper’s beside him, talking excitedly about a candy shop he saw. Nami looks at the stars.

Then it happens.

“Oi, oi… look at those two up front.”

The voice comes from a shadowed alley. A group of men steps out. Maybe five… no, more. Eight? Ten?

All of them wear smug grins and old, ragged clothes. Drunk or bored, or both.

“Redhead’s got legs for days” one of them whistles.

Another points at you “And that one’s already clinging to her man. What a shame.”

You blink slowly, still a little tipsy, but even you catch that.

Zoro stops walking.

Nami’s eyes narrow “Great.”

Sanji steps forward fast, arm out in front of Nami and Chopper “Let me handle this.”

Zoro lowers you gently to the ground “Can you stand?”

You nod smiling proudly at you don't even know what “Mmhm. I’ll try my best”

He steps away from you, his hand already on one sword.

The men keep talking.

“Hey sweetheart,” one says to Nami, “you and your friend here, ditch the blond twig, the dog and that Grinch. We’ll show you a good time.”

Another laughs “Yeah the drunk one too. Bet she’s easy.”

Everything goes still.

Sanji’s eyes glow with rage “What did you say?”

Zoro doesn’t speak. He just draws his sword with a soft shing.

The leader of the group smirks “Look at these pretty boys. Gonna cry?”

Sanji takes off his jacket slowly “Nami-swan, Chopper—stay back.”

Chopper grabs Nami’s hand and pulls her behind a cart “Be careful!”

Zoro turns his head slightly toward you “Sit down. This’ll be quick.”

You nod and sit near the cart, leaning against it.

The men charge first, loud and sloppy.

Bad idea.

Sanji moves like fire, one man down with a spinning kick.

Zoro is calm and cold. His sword flashes but he doesn’t cut them, just knocks them flat with the dull side. Quick. Clean. Brutal.

But then someone tries to sneak around.

Toward you.

“Hey, maybe I’ll take the quiet one... she cute”

Zoro’s blade is at the man’s neck in a second. His voice is low, dangerous.

“Say another word.”

The man gulps.

“Zoro” you whisper. You’ve never seen his eyes like this. Sharp. Dark.

“I’m fine,” he says “But I don’t like people looking at you like that.”

Sanji grabs another by the collar and slams him into the ground “Next time you look at a lady like that, I’ll rearrange your face.”

The rest scatter fast. Limping, running, one even crawls away.

Silence again.

Chopper peeks out “Is it over?”

Nami sighs “Yeah. Idiots.”

Zoro walks back to you. He crouches “You okay?”

You nod “They were gross.”

He offers his hand. You take it.

“Next time,” he says, “stay close.”

“I was literally on your back.”

He grunts “Still.”

You smirk “Were you jealous?”

He looks away “…No.”

“You were.”

He doesn’t answer, just picks you up again, bridal-style this time.

You blink “What are you doing?”

“You can’t walk, and I’m not letting you fall behind.”

Sanji lights another cigarette, muttering, “Show-off.”

Zoro ignores him. You wrap your arms around his neck again, this time without teasing.

“Thanks” you whisper.

His voice is soft, only for you “Always.”

Zoro still holds you in his arms as the group walks again. You rest against his chest, eyes half-closed, smile lazy.

But after a few more steps, you squirm a little.

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“You can put me down. I can walk now.”

He pauses “You sure?”

You nod “Promise. I’m not that drunk anymore.”

He stops and gently lowers you onto your feet. His hands linger on your arms a second longer, just in case you stumble.

You wobble just a little but stay up.

“See?” you say with a proud smile “Told you.”

He nods “Fine. But don’t fall again.”

You start to walk, but then he does something strange.

He reaches down… and takes your hand.

Your eyes widen a little. So do Nami’s.

Even Chopper notices “Whoa… Zoro’s holding hands?!”

Zoro doesn’t let go. He doesn’t look embarrassed, either. Just keeps walking like it’s nothing.

Nami raises an eyebrow “Since when do you hold hands in public?”

Sanji raises both eyebrows “Yeah, mosshead, you sick? Got a fever or something?”

Zoro glances at them “Tch. I just don’t want her tripping.”

Chopper runs up beside him, grinning “But you never do that! That’s so cute!”

Zoro sighs but doesn’t snap “Yeah, well. You’re fine, Chopper. Just don’t push it.”

You look at him. Really look. His face is calm now, jaw relaxed, grip warm around your fingers. Not too tight. Not too loose. Just… right.

You don’t know why you feel shy suddenly.

But you say it anyway.

“I have a crush on you. Do you like me back?”

The group stops walking.

Zoro blinks. His eyes meet yours.

“I’m your husband...” he says, flatly “Literally.”

You freeze. Then blink “Oh yeah.”

And then you squeal.

You start bouncing in place, grinning like crazy “You do like me!”

Zoro doesn’t even try to hide the tiny smile that pulls at his lips.

You drop his hand and throw your arms around his neck “Zoro, I like you so much!”

He catches you easily “Yeah, I know.”

And then you kiss him.

Right there. In the middle of the street.

It’s soft but sure. You lean into him. He lets it happen.

He kisses you back.

Chopper covers his mouth “Oh my god…!”

Nami gasps, then laughs “This is so going in my diary.”

Sanji nearly drops his cigarette “I hate this timeline.”

Zoro pulls back just a little, still holding you “You’re drunk.”

You whisper, “But not that drunk.”

He exhales slowly “Yeah. Sure.”

You rest your forehead against his “I love you.”

He answers without thinking “I love you too.”

Another pause.

“You just said that out loud?” Nami shouts.

Sanji groans loudly “This is a nightmare.”

Chopper claps his hooves “They’re in love! So cute!”

Zoro finally sets you back down, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Come on,” he says “Let’s go back before the idiots behind us explode.”

── .✦ Sanji:

The Thousand Sunny docks at a bright island full of music, shops, and food stalls. The air smells like grilled fish and sweet fruit. It’s the kind of place the crew loves.

“Let’s eat everything!” Luffy cheers.

“You say that on every island” you say, smiling.

“Because it’s always true!”

You walk beside Sanji, your fingers brushing his. He takes your hand without even looking and brings it to his lips.

“My beautiful angel,” he murmurs “Shall we find a feast worthy of your beauty?”

“Just one that won’t kill us,” you joke “Please.”

The crew ends up at a cozy restaurant near the center of town. There’s a band playing outside, and the tables are shaded with bright cloths. People are drinking and laughing everywhere.

“Find a seat,” Sanji says “I’ll handle the food.”

You touch his arm “Don’t take too long.”

“Only death could keep me from you, mon amour.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart does that little flutter. Sanji always talks like that. He means it too, in his own dramatic way.

You sit with Nami, Robin, and the others. Everyone’s talking and laughing. Luffy tries to steal bread from someone else’s plate. Typical.

At the counter, Sanji orders. That’s when two women walk in, locals, dressed in soft, colorful clothes. They spot him instantly.

“Oh no,” Nami mutters “Look who just walked into his life.”

You turn and see them. One’s got curly black hair, the other wears silver earrings that swing when she walks. Both walk straight to Sanji.

You watch calmly.

“Hi, stranger” says the taller girl.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the short one asks, leaning close.

Sanji smiles politely “Just visiting. I’m with friends.”

“Too bad,” the tall one says “We were hoping you’d say you were alone.”

“Oh? Then I must break your hearts, ladies,” he says, still smiling “I’m already spoken for.”

Your chest warms at that. But still… he doesn’t leave.

Then the shorter one laughs and says, “Just one drink. That’s not cheating.”

Sanji hesitates. He looks toward your table. He meets your eyes.

You shrug with a soft smile “Go ahead.”

He raises an eyebrow “Are you sure?”

You nod “You’re too polite to say no anyway.”

He stands there for a moment longer. Then he sighs dramatically, presses a hand to his heart, and says, “Forgive me, my love. It’s only a drink.”

“Don’t fall in love with anyone” you say.

“Impossible. You already own my heart.”

He walks with them to a small table in the corner. They giggle. One pours him something pink into a glass. He keeps his hands to himself, posture perfect, but he talks, smiles, flatters. You can almost hear the compliments from here.

Zoro leans closer “You’re really letting him do that?”

“Why not?” you say, sipping your drink.

“He’s literally flirting right now.”

“No. He’s just being Sanji.”

Robin chuckles “You trust him.”

You nod “I do.”

Still, your eyes don’t leave him. Even if your heart knows he’s yours, it’s hard to ignore two girls laughing at his jokes.

After ten minutes, he stands up, bows, and walks back. One of them tries to touch his arm, but he gently steps away.

“Thank you, ladies. But my real treasure is waiting for me.”

When he sits beside you again, you hand him a glass of water.

“Done being too polite?” you ask.

He takes the glass “It was torture, I swear.”

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was praying you’d come save me.”

You laugh “Liar.”

He leans closer “I only ever mean it when I talk to you.”

You smile and take a bite of your food.

But you don’t let go of his hand under the table.

The meal is almost done. Luffy’s plates are stacked like a tower. Usopp is bragging about something that never happened. You lean back in your chair, sipping a cold drink. Sanji sits beside you, close but calm.

You feel his warmth next to you. You feel… okay.

Until they show up again.

The same two girls from earlier. The tall one waves. The short one smiles like she’s just so happy to see him again.

“Is this seat taken?” the short one asks, already pulling over a chair next to Sanji.

“You’re back,” Sanji says politely “What a surprise.”

You don’t say anything. You’re watching. Listening.

They sit anyway.

Tall girl rests her arm on the back of Sanji’s chair “You left so fast earlier. We didn’t get to hear more about you.”

Short Girl adds, “We’ve never met someone so… elegant. You must be used to lots of attention.”

Sanji chuckles nervously “Please, you flatter me.”

You raise an eyebrow. He’s not leaning toward them, but he’s not moving away either. He’s being polite. Too polite.

You glance at Zoro. He’s smirking.

Nami mutters under her breath, “I’d slap them.”

Robin sips her drink “This is getting interesting.”

One of the girls tries to feed Sanji something off her plate.

You drop your fork.

Everyone goes silent for a second.

Sanji finally leans back “Ladies, I can’t—”

You stand up slowly. You smile. But not the nice kind.

You walk over and rest your hand gently on his shoulder. He turns to you like the sun just came out. You don’t look at him yet. You look at the girls.

And you say, loud and clear “That’s my husband.”

The words hit the table like thunder.

Both girls freeze. One blinks. The other pulls her hand back like she touched fire.

Sanji turns bright red. His eyes go wide. Then his mouth falls open “Y-your… husband?”

You finally look at him.

“Yes. You’re my husband, aren’t you?”

He starts nodding so fast it’s like his head is going to fall off.

“I’m your husband!” he says, grinning like an idiot, heart eyes in full bloom “Forever and ever! I belong to you, my love!”

He grabs your hands, kisses them one after the other “Your husband. Only yours. Always.”

You smile sweetly at the girls “Thanks for keeping him entertained.”

They stand up awkwardly, mutter something, and walk away quickly.

Sanji’s still holding your hands. Still blushing. Still staring at you like you just saved his life.

“I love when you get possessive” he whispers.

“You just love when I call you ‘husband’” you say.

“…Maybe.”

You lean down and kiss his cheek “Then behave, husband.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Sanji’s still holding your hands like they’re sacred treasure. The girls are gone, the crew is snickering quietly, and you finally sit back down beside him.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“You’re incredible” he whispers.

“You’re lucky I am.”

He gives you a dreamy sigh “Marry me again.”

“You’d flirt with the waitress at the wedding.”

He gasps “I would never!”

“You’d compliment her hair while holding my hand.”

“…I would,” he admits “But I’d still only see you.”

You give him a look. That look.

And then you glance down at his hands.

“Hey.”

“Yes, angel?”

“Why didn’t you wear your ring today?”

He blinks “What?”

You raise an eyebrow “It’s usually easier once they see that you’re taken.”

Sanji looks down at his bare left hand like he just noticed it. Then he immediately starts digging in his coat pocket.

“I—I was washing dishes this morning!” he says, panicking “I didn’t want to scratch it! I swear I meant to put it back on!”

“Uh-huh.”

He finally finds it. A simple gold band, a little worn from kitchen life, but still shining.

He grabs your hand and slides it on with dramatic care, like he’s proposing again.

“There. Forgive me?”

You hold up your hand and show him the matching one on your finger.

“I always wear mine.”

He groans “I’m the worst husband ever.”

You lean in close “You really are.”

He tilts his head, eyes hopeful “But I’m your husband.”

You sigh, pretending to be annoyed, but you can’t help the smile creeping across your face.

“Yeah,” you say softly “You are.”

He lights up again.

“You make me crazy” you say.

He kisses your hand “Then let’s be crazy together.”

“Get a room, this is disgusting.” Zoro says while drinking.

“Nooo, no room. I want to see.” Brook replies getting punched by Nami before he can even do his usual laugh.

The crew laugh but you don’t put your eyes away from your husband, blushing and smiling softly and he does the same.

── .✦ Law:

The fire crackles in the middle of the camp. Meat sizzles, drinks pour, and the air is full of laughter and victory.

The war is over. Kaido is down.

Tonight is for celebration.

You're sitting close to Law, sake cup in hand. It’s warm in your chest now. The fourth cup? Maybe fifth? You lost count. Whatever. You’re relaxed. Happy. Tipsy.

You lean back, stretch, and laugh at a joke Usopp just told, even if you didn’t fully hear it.

Shachi blinks “She’s having fun. Someone mark the date.”

“I’m telling her you said that” Ikkaku warns, grinning.

Law glances at you “You good?”

You grin “Mmhmm. Sake’s nice.”

He hums but watches you for a beat longer.

Across the fire, Luffy stands on a barrel “This party needs more energy!”

Sanji spins around at your laugh “Y/N-chwaaaan! You look radiant in firelight! Please, dance with me!”

You shake your head and gesture at Law “Taken.”

That single word makes Penguin choke on his drink.

Kid raises an eyebrow “Taken, huh?”

You smirk and lean into Law’s space, voice teasing, “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll make it obvious.”

Law narrows his eyes “What does that mean?”

You grab his hat, pluck it off his head, and drop it on your own. It’s too big and slides over your eyes.

Shachi lets out a shriek-laugh “Oh my god, she’s wearing his hat!”

“Y/N, give it back.” Law says flatly, reaching for it.

You tilt your head “No.”

“Give it—”

“Say please.”

He stares at you “You’re drunk.”

“Didn’t say no” you sing.

Zoro makes a low sound that might be a laugh. Sanji, meanwhile, is clenching his wine bottle like it personally betrayed him “She’s flirting with him? With that guy?”

Nami snorts “They’re sitting in each other’s space, Sanji. She’s on him.”

“Tragedy!” Sanji whispers.

You grab Law’s face with both hands “Hey.”

“What.” he says stiffly.

“You know I like you, right?”

The fire quiets. Everyone freezes. Even Luffy stops mid-meat-bite.

Law tenses “What are you doing?”

“Reminding you. In case you forgot.”

Shachi and Penguin look away. Bepo buries his face in his paws. Ikkaku groans “Oh no, it’s happening.”

You poke Law’s cheek “I like your murder face.”

Kid laughs out loud “Murder face?!”

“Shut up” Law growls, glaring across the flames.

You curl up next to him, still wearing his hat “So handsome.”

“Y/N,” he mutters, voice low “Stop.”

You tilt your head “Why? You’re mine, right?”

“…Yes.”

Usopp drops his cup.

“Excuse me?!” Sanji shouts.

“Did we just get a whole relationship reveal during party time?” Nami blinks.

Robin smiles gently “I was wondering how long they’d keep it quiet.”

Kid looks between you and Law “You? With him? Damn.”

“Respect.” Heat adds, raising his drink.

You raise yours too, still leaning into Law “Cheers.”

Law looks like he wants the ground to swallow him.

You wiggle your fingers in Law’s hair, still wearing his oversized hat.

“You know,” you say, voice soft but playful, “you’re kind of impossible to ignore when you blush like that.”

Law tries to pull his face away, but you catch his chin gently “Don’t be shy.”

He groans, but you can tell he’s smiling behind the cup he’s raising to hide his face.

Sanji is practically vibrating with jealousy a few feet away “Oi! Don’t hog the captain! She’s mine too, damn it!”

You laugh “Sanji, you’re sweet, but Law’s got me.”

Law’s eyes flash toward Sanji “Careful.”

You glance back at Law, eyes sparkling “You know you’re the hottest boyfriend I could ask for.”

Law freezes. Then, deadpan but with a tiny smile, he says, “I’m your husband.”

The camp goes silent.

For a split second, your brain glitches—wait, husband?—and then you explode, louder than anyone expected, “OMG YAYYY! I FORGOT YOU MARRIED ME! BEST NEWS EVER!”

You throw your hands up in the air, practically bouncing in your seat like you just won the lottery. Your smile stretches impossibly wide, and your eyes sparkle with giddy excitement.

“Law! We’re married! Can you believe it?!” you gush, nearly knocking over your sake cup “I totally forgot you married me! I’m so lucky! This is the best news ever!”

Law’s eyes widen as he watches you go full-on happy dance mode, his usual calm cracking. He reaches out quickly, steadying you by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey, sit down.” he says with a low chuckle, his voice gentle but firm.

You wobble slightly but don’t stop grinning “Can’t! I’m too excited!”

He sighs, shaking his head fondly, trying again to settle you “You’re going to fall.”

You catch his hands, laughing “Maybe, but it’s worth it!”

Law’s cheeks darken just a bit, but he can’t help the soft smile tugging at his lips “You’re ridiculous.”

You lean closer, eyes bright and teasing “Ridiculous? I prefer when you call me adorable.”

A few of your crew are watching, amused. Penguin smirks “She really lights up when she talks about you.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her this happy” Shachi adds.

Law’s hand stays steady on your shoulder, and after a moment, you finally settle back down, still glowing.

“Don’t scare me like that” he mutters quietly.

You squeeze his hand “Never. You’re stuck with me... husband.”

He groans dramatically but the warmth in his eyes says otherwise “I’m already regretting marrying you.”

You laugh “Good.”

Luffy’s mouth is wide open, still holding half a meat leg “Wait… married?!”

Nami drops her drink “You two are married?!”

Kid bursts out laughing “Well, no wonder you’re so attached, freaky doctor!”

Sanji’s jaw drops, completely stunned “Husband?!” He looks like he might faint.

Bepo squeaks and hides behind a tree.

You bounce happily “Yep! Secret’s out! We’re married, but only the crew knew.”

Law sighs, adjusting his hat back onto his head “I wanted to keep it quiet.”

“Too late now! You said that yourself!” You grin.

Robin chuckles “Well, congratulations. I always thought you two were close.

Zoro shrugs, grumbling, “Figures.”

You lean into Law, wrapping your arm around his waist “Guess you can’t escape me.”

Law looks resigned but happy “Good.”

Sanji crosses his arms, muttering, “I need a drink…”

You giggle and whisper to Law, “Worth it.”

Law just shakes his head with a small smile.

The campfire flickers as everyone recovers from the big reveal. You lean against Law, still smiling but your eyes hold something deeper, a shadow behind the joy.

Law notices. His gaze sharpens “You’re quiet now.”

You take a shaky breath “I… I'm drinking to forget, but it's not working.”

His eyebrows knit “Forget what?”

You glance away, voice low “How you almost died in the fight. I saw you, Law. It scared me.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The warmth from the fire feels heavier.

Law’s usual hard edge softens, and he reaches out slowly to pat his hat on your head.

“Hey” he says quietly, voice gentle.

Law reaches out and pats his hat gently on your head. His voice is low, almost careful.

“You’re important to me.”

You look up at him, surprised but steady “Same here.”

His hand lingers a moment on your shoulder before he pulls back slightly, the usual sharpness softened.

He almost forgets you’re in public, his hand lingering on your shoulder like he wants to pull you close. The tough captain’s guard drops for just a second.

Kid smirks “Whoa, Law getting soft.”

Penguin frowns, eyeing your sake cup “You’ve had enough.”

You reach for it again.

His hand shoots out, stopping you “No more.”

Shachi nods “We need you clear, not drunk.”

You pout “But I’m having fun!”

Bepo hops closer, worried “Captain, she’s too loud already.”

Law stands, arms crossed, watching you “They’re right. No more drinking.”

You frown but lower the cup “Only because you said so.”

Law’s lips twitch into a rare smile “Good.”

Your crew surrounds you protectively.

Ikkaku teases, “Lucky he’s soft with you.”

You lean on Law, feeling safe “I am.”

Sanji mutters, “Unbelievable...”

Law’s hand slides around your waist, pulling you close “Stop worrying now. Stay with me.”

You sigh happily “Always.”

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun is high. The air smells like salt and grilled fish.

The Red Force is docked near a lively island. There's music, laughter, and drunk pirates everywhere. Shanks is somewhere near the tavern, talking too loudly, laughing like nothing in the world is wrong.

You sip your drink under a shaded canopy near the docks, far from him but close enough to hear his stupid laugh.

You haven’t spoken in four days. Not since the fight.

"You're impossible" you’d said.

"You're too stubborn" he'd answered.

Then silence.

Now? You're pretending he doesn't exist. He's pretending the same. Except that you know he sees you. Just like you see him. Always.

“Why are you even mad?” Lucky Roux had asked.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even know anymore.

“Wanna talk about it?” Yasopp tried.

You glared at him until he walked away.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over your table. You glance up.

It’s a man. Not part of the crew.

Tall. Dark skin. A silver earring. Broad shoulders and a smirk you don’t trust.

“You look lonely” he says, leaning close.

You raise a brow “I’m not.”

“No one should drink alone on a day like this.”

You say nothing. But you don’t tell him to go away either.

From across the street, you feel Shanks before you see him. He’s leaning against a wall, one foot crossed over the other, grinning lazily.

He’s watching.

Of course he is.

The stranger sits down beside you “Name’s Davor” he says, offering a hand.

You shake it, quick “Mm.”

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing away from the party?”

You smile, small. Still not interested. Still mad.

But then your eyes meet his again... Shanks.

He tips his head slightly, smug as ever. His eyes are saying, Go ahead. Play. You’re still mine.

Your blood heats up.

Fine.

You turn to the stranger, eyes a little softer “You look strong” you say, laying a hand lightly on his arm.

He grins, surprised “I train a lot.”

You let your fingers trace the curve of his bicep “I can tell.”

From the corner of your eye, Shanks pushes off the wall.

Still smiling.

Still calm.

But his jaw is tight now. You know that look. He’s coming.

Davor leans closer “Careful. You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll think I have a chance.”

“Yeah, but careful...” you say, smirking “I bite.”

“I like that.”

You let out a fake little laugh, sweet and mean at the same time.

Shanks steps behind the man without a sound “Hey,” he says, cheerful “Enjoying the view?”

Davor looks up “R...Red-Haired Shanks?”

“Red-Haired Shanks, yes.” He nods at you “That seat’s taken.”

Davor blinks “She didn’t say she was—”

“She didn’t have to” Shanks cuts in, voice low now.

You lean back, sipping your drink, acting bored.

But your heart is racing.

Davor glances between you both “I didn’t mean any disrespec—”

Shanks claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, all teeth “Course not. Just be careful. Some things look unclaimed when they’re not.”

Davor stands quickly “Got it. Sorry, ma’am.”

He walks away fast.

Silence.

You look at Shanks.

He looks back, eyes hot and shining.

Neither of you says anything.

Then, he leans down, his lips near your ear.

"That was cute," he murmurs "Trying to make me jealous."

You roll your eyes “Didn’t try. Just succeeded, or you wouldn't even be here.”

He chuckles “You done being mad?”

You shrug “Maybe.”

He reaches for your drink, takes a sip without asking “Good. 'Cause I’ve missed you.”

You don’t reply.

But you don’t stop him when he sits beside you either.

Not this time.

Shanks stretches his legs out under the table like he owns the world, like he didn’t just interrupt a conversation you were clearly enjoying.

He takes another sip of your drink. Loudly.

You don't look at him.

He waits a second. Two.

Then “So... was that your type?” he asks, too casual “The whole broody and tall thing?”

You blink at the horizon, bored. Still not speaking.

Shanks grins. He thinks this is funny "Should I cut my hair and start lifting barrels just to compete?"

Still nothing.

"Hello?" he singsongs, nudging your knee with his "Cat got your tongue? Or did Davor take that too?"

You sigh. Long. Loud. Then, you stand.

His smile falters just a second.

"Where you goin’, sweetheart?"

You don’t answer.

You walk.

Back toward the bar. Back to the party.

Back to Davor, who’s drinking something bitter and looking around like he wants to vanish into the floor.

You sit next to him again.

He jumps “Uh—didn’t expect to see you again.”

You smile sweetly “Why? Did my Captain scare you?”

“...A little.” He laughs nervously.

You lean in anyway, eyes half-lidded, voice soft “Don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything. I won't let him.”

Across the square, Shanks is still sitting at the table. Watching.

You meet his eyes.

He raises his cup in a little mock-toast. That damn smirk is back, the one that says, Go ahead. You’ll come crawling back anyway.

So you turn back to Davor.

“I didn’t get to finish admiring these muscles earlier” you say, touching his arm again. Slower this time.

Davor blushes, but tries to play it cool “You really wanna keep poking the dragon?”

You grin “Why not? It’s not like he’s breathing fire yet.”

Behind you, you hear a whistle.

It’s Shanks.

You don’t turn around.

You just smile wider.

Let him feel the burn this time.

Davor laughs awkwardly when you run a finger down his arm “You’re bold...” he says.

You smirk “You’re still here.”

He shrugs “Only because he hasn’t killed me yet.”

You glance sideways. Shanks is still at the same table, drink untouched, elbow on the wood, chin resting on his hand and eyes fixed on you.

His smile is now gone.

He stands.

The chair screeches back. He walks slow, boots steady on the wood. No smirk now.

You brace, but don’t look away.

Davor sees him coming and tenses “Alright, maybe I should leave now—”

“No,” Shanks says, voice sharp “I’ll talk.”

You tilt your head “Oh? Now you want to talk?”

“I’ve always wanted to talk.” His eyes burn into yours “But you were too busy flirting with that guy’s forearms.”

You lift your chin “I wasn’t flirting. I was proving a point.”

“To who?!”

“To you!”

He runs a hand through his red hair, frustrated “Y/N, what do you want from me right now?”

“I love making you jealous” you say, arms folded, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He steps closer “I’m not jealous” he says, jaw tight. Then softer, “Just… stop.”

His voice lowers even more “You were right. About the fight. I was stubborn. I didn’t listen. I acted like a damn idiot.”

You blink.

You weren’t expecting that.

“I…” You shift your weight “I don’t even remember why we fought.”

He stares at you “Are you serious?”

You nod “No clue.”

For a moment, the two of you just… stand there. Then his lips twitch. A small, surprised smile. It grows. That warm Shanks smile. Real.

You smile too.

“Wanna start over?” you ask, voice lighter now.

He nods, eyes soft “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You hold out your hand “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I think I have a crush on you.”

He laughs, taking your hand, pulling you in close.

“Babe,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back, “I’m your husband.”

You grin, leaning into his chest “God, I love when you talk domestic to me.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Let’s go finish this somewhere more private.” he whispers.

“Lead the way, Captain” you say, arms wrapping around him.

Davor clears his throat in the distance “So uh… I’m just gonna go—”

“Good call” Shanks says without looking at him.

"Oh Devor!" you call making him turn in surprise "For real... nice arms."

You smirk, still tucked against Shanks’ side, while Davor nods awkwardly and shoots a terrified glance his way.

Shanks turns to you and flicks your forehead. You pout, rubbing the spot like it actually hurt, acting confused about why he did it.

He smiles at you before leaving a kiss on the same spot on your forehead "Idiot, I love you. Now if you're done here..."

And just like that the storm ends.

── .✦ Ace:

The sun is high when the ship docks near a strange little island. Green trees, bright flowers, and weird fruit hanging from every branch. It almost looks like a dream.

You lean on the railing, watching as Ace stretches his arms beside you.

“Another island, another chance to explore” he says with that wide grin of his.

You poke his side “Another chance for you to pull dumb pranks?”

He laughs “No promises.”

He always pranks you. Hiding your shoes. Filling your drink with chili powder. That time he pretended to fall overboard just to hear you scream his name.

You still haven’t gotten him back.

Not yet.

As the crew unloads, you stay close to Ace. You already know the plan.

Marco leans in and whispers in your ear, “You sure you wanna do this?”

You nod “He deserves it.”

Thatch tosses a weird purple fruit into your hands “This will do the trick. Looks freaky, but it’s just sweet inside. Take a bite, pretend you lose your memory. He’ll freak.”

Ace is walking ahead, clueless. You smirk. Time for revenge.

The moment comes during lunch.

Everyone is sitting under a big tree. The sun is warm. Laughter fills the air.

You sit beside Ace and hold up the fruit “Hey, look what I found.”

Ace raises an eyebrow “That looks… sketchy.”

You shrug “You afraid of a fruit now?”

He scoffs “No. I just don’t want you turning into a duck or something.”

You grin and take a bite.

Everyone goes quiet.

You chew slowly, then suddenly drop the fruit and grab your head “Ow… what… what’s happening…?”

Ace sits up fast “Babe?”

You look around, eyes wide “Who are all of you?!”

He freezes “Wait, what?”

“I... I don’t remember anything! Why am I here?! Who are you?!” you shout, pointing at Ace.

"Yeah sure... nice prank, now you can stop alreaady." he says rolling his eyes at you.

You try your best to stay serious, confused and scared... and it actually works because one look over at you and Ace scrambles to his knees “It’s me! Ace! We’re pirates! You love me, remember?!”

You stare at him like he’s a stranger “Pirates?! I don’t even like the ocean!”

You hear muffled laughs behind you, Thatch’s hand over his mouth, Marco shaking with silent laughter, Izou biting his lip so hard it might bleed.

Ace grabs your shoulders “You’re joking. Right? Right?!”

You blink at him, dead serious “Please don’t hurt me! Someone help!”

He turns pale “What?! Hurt you?! I would never! I—guys, help! What do I do?! Should we call a doctor?! Is there a doctor fruit?! I don't know!!”

You sniff, faking a tear “I don’t even know your name!”

He holds your face gently, panic all over him “It’s Ace! Portgas D. Ace! We’ve been together for years! You sleep on my chest every night, you steal my food, you… love me.”

You’re so close on giving up already, you hate seeing him like this. But then you look over at the crew and they start silently making gestures to make you continue it.

And you do.

You’re back on the ship.

Ace insisted.

“If she sees our room,” he told the crew, “she’ll remember everything. Right?”

Marco just raised a brow “Maybe.”

Thatch was trying not to burst into laughter again “Yeah, maybe.”

So now you’re walking beside Ace, pretending to be confused but curious.

You glance around the deck, eyes wide “This is… a nice boat.”

He corrects you instantly “Ship.”

“Right. Sorry, bro.”

Ace flinches “Bro?”

You smile sweetly “Yeah. You’re being really nice to me, bro. I appreciate it.”

He narrows his eyes “You called me ‘lovebug’ yesterday.”

You shrug “Guess I was weird before the memory loss.”

He mutters something under his breath.

When you reach your shared room, he pushes the door open with hopeful eyes.

Inside, it’s warm and messy. Blankets kicked half off the bed. His shirt on the floor. Your hairbrush sitting on the dresser.

He points at the pictures stuck to the wall “See? That’s us. Kissing.”

You tilt your head “Wow. Looks like I liked you a lot, bro.”

He looks physically wounded “Please stop calling me that.”

You walk over to the bed and flop down “It’s comfy in here.”

Ace stands there, running a hand through his hair “You really don’t remember any of this?”

You shake your head with wide, fake-innocent eyes “Nope. But you seem chill. Kinda cute, too.”

He perks up “Cute?!”

“Like… for a brother.”

He groans “I’m not your brother!”

You stare at him, unblinking “Sorry. Bro.”

Ace falls to his knees beside the bed and grabs your hands “Okay, no. That’s it. This has gone too far. Bro here. Bro there. Bro??? I’m your husband!”

Your eyes go wide “What?!”

“Yeah?” he shouts “We sleep together, we travel together, we fight together, we’re in love! You kiss me every morning! You steal the blankets! You chew too loud but I still love you! And don’t make me say what we do closed door now!”

The rest of the crew looks annoyed by this last sentence.

“It’s not like you’re quite “closed door” anyway…” Marco says as if he’s scolding you both.

But Ace doesn’t even seem to care. He just stares at you with the sorriest expression you ever seen on him.

You sit up fast, eyes softening at Ace. The prank suddenly doesn’t feel as funny anymore.

“…Ace.”

“I don’t care if you don’t remember me,” he says, voice quiet now “I’ll make you fall for me again. I’ll tell you everything, every story, every stupid moment. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Your chest tightens.

You bite your lip, then finally blurt out, “Ace… I’m sorry. It was a prank.”

He blinks “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d fall for it that hard! I thought you were just playing along until a minute ago!” you say, grabbing his hands “It was Thatch’s idea. I just wanted to get you back! I didn’t mean to… Ace, I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you in silence.

Then slowly leans back.

Then throws his hands in the air and screams into the room.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?!”

You’re hugging him, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

Then you hear a snort.

Then a muffled cackle.

Thatch is holding his stomach, tears running down his face “OH MY GOD. ‘BRO?!’ BRO?! I’M YOUR HUSBAND?!’ I’m gonna DIE.”

Marco leans against the wall, arms crossed, shaking his head with a small smile “I warned you not to prank someone more dramatic than you.”

Izou is fanning himself “I almost broke character when she said he was ‘kinda cute’... That was brutal.”

Ace whirls on them “You were all in on this uh?”

Thatch throws both hands in the air “Obviously!”

“You could’ve given me a heart attack!” Ace says.

Marco smirks “I was watching to make sure you didn’t set the ship on fire with your emotions.”

Izou snickers “That speech, though. The blankets. The chewing. I was this close to crying.”

You nudge Ace “Aw. They all thought it was sweet.”

Ace glares at you, then at the others “You’re all monsters.”

Thatch shrugs “She warned you. Payback, remember?”

Marco points at you “Honestly, the acting was solid.”

“Thank you,” you say, bowing slightly “I trained for this moment my entire relationship.”

Ace groans and hides his face in your shoulder “I hate all of you.”

You stroke his hair with a grin “Still love me, though.”

He mumbles something like “unfortunately” again.

Thatch high-fives you as he walks out “Legendary. Absolutely legendary. That man almost proposed for a second time out of panic.”

Izou whispers, “I bet if we kept it going for ten more minutes, he’d have built you a wedding altar and remake the whole wedding vows.”

Ace grabs a pillow and throws it at him.

The crew finally clears out after what feels like hours of teasing, laughing, and Ace sulking like a kicked puppy.

You’re lying on the bed now, still in your shared room, staring up at the ceiling.

Ace is standing by the window, arms crossed, his back to you.

You sit up slowly “Okay, how bad is it?”

He turns around, eyebrows furrowed “What?”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” you say “You’ve gone quiet. That’s when it’s most dangerous.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just walks over and sits down next to you.

You raise an eyebrow “So? What’s the plan? Fake poison in my tea? Switching out my shampoo with mayonnaise?”

He lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it.

Then, instead of answering, he leans in and gently presses his lips to your forehead.

You blink “…What was that for?”

Ace shrugs “Just felt like it.”

He pulls you close, your head resting against his warm chest, heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

“I really thought I lost you,” he says softly “Even if it was just for a few minutes… it felt real.”

You swallow, guilt creeping back in “I didn’t know it’d hit you that hard.”

“I didn’t know it would, either,” he whispers “But hearing you say you didn’t remember me… it scared me. More than I expected.”

You look up at him, surprised to find his expression completely open. No smirk, no teasing. Just soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“I thought you’d be busy drawing diagrams for your next prank” you murmur.

“Meh,” he says, brushing a hand through your hair “Not tonight.”

You chuckle “Wow. Ace skipping revenge? That’s suspicious.”

He laughs too, but it’s quiet “I’m serious. I just wanna hold you right now.”

He pulls the blanket over both of you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his nose brushing your hair.

You press a small kiss to his collarbone “You’re kinda sweet when you’re not threatening chaos.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he says, smiling “I’m still gonna get you back one day.”

“Sure, sure. But for now?”

“For now,” he says, kissing your temple again, “I just wanna be with my award-winning actress of the Grand Line… Ladies and gentlemen, my wife Y/N.”

You laugh into his chest “I’m the luckiest wife in the world.”

His fingers trace lazy circles on your back “And I’m the happiest ‘bro’ alive.”

You groan and smack his chest lightly “Don’t ruin the moment.”

He kisses your cheek “Okay, okay. No more ‘bro’.”

Just soft smiles. Quiet breathing. Warm skin. No pranks.

At least for now.

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kitkatscabinet · 19 days ago

Text

ME, MY GIRLFRIEND AND MY GIRLFRIEND'S GIRLFRIEND BEST FRIEND

Summary: You and your bestie are a package deal; you thought he knew that by now.

Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader. Feat. best friend Donna, Kori, Stephanie and Diana.

DICK GRAYSON

It was one of those rare quiet nights. No alarms blaring, no villains plotting, no Bat-signals shining in the sky. Just Dick sprawled across the couch, half-watching a documentary and waiting for you to come back from the kitchen with popcorn.

You returned, phone pressed to your ear, clearly in the middle of a conversation with someone. You handed him the bowl before plodding back into the kitchen to get some drinks.

Dick watched you go with a smile. You were glowing—laughing at whatever was being said on the other end of the line, looking carefree and happy. He couldn’t help but admire you. You were everything good in his life wrapped up in one person. And tonight, he felt especially lucky to have you.

You were FaceTiming someone. Based on the way you were laughing and swapping stories from a wild night out, he assumed it was one of the girls, probably Donna or Kory.

You disappear from his line of sight, and he turns his focus back to the TV. Until you appear behind him, holding out the bottle of soda, and then he hears it.

"I love you!"

He looked up. You were smiling, voice soft and sincere. His heart stopped at the words, nearly bursting in delight. You'd said it, you'd finally said the three words he so longed to hear.

He spins around, popcorn bowl flying as he locks his arms around your waist over the back of the couch and all but vibrates in excitement, shouting, "I love you too babe!"

Only to falter when you wriggle loose, shooting him an incredulous look as you hold your phone up near your mouth.

"Dick, what the hell? I'm on the phone." You scold him.

"Wha? Who are you professing your love to?" He squawks in outrage.

"Um, Donna?" You raise a brow, as if to say, duh.

"Donna?" He reels back with a whine, hand over his heart in offence that's only half fake.

"Oh my God, you're such a baby." You sigh, "Donna, I gotta go." Donna let out an amused laugh before you hung up, throwing your phone on the couch.

"Get up loser." You roll your eyes.

"Why? Just go and be with Donna."

"For the love of fuck." you huffed, "I love you, Dick. But if you're gonna be annoying about it then maybe I will go and —"

Dick suddenly lunges for you once more, burying his face in your stomach and whining like a petulant child. "You love me more than Donna, right?"

"...Sure, baby." You threw up a mental prayer, hoping Donna would forgive you.

JASON TODD

"Babe? You home?"

"On the couch, Jay." You call back, making him falter a little. You always ran to greet him when he got home, no matter what you were doing.

You don't sound injured or distressed, but Jason can't help the anxiety that rises in his chest as he stalks through the apartment. Only to freeze in betrayal at the sight of Starfire sitting on your lap, her arms wrapped around your neck as the two of you giggle together over some inside joke.

"Are you... are you cuddling my girlfriend?" He looked offended, glaring at where Kori was snuggling into your neck.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch Jason." You rolled your eyes, "Besides, you literally made out with Roy the other day?"

"For the mission!" Jason sputtered, cheeks as red as his helmet.

"Whatever you wanna tell yourself hon." You hummed.

Jason dramatically drops his helmet on the table and crosses his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Great. Just great. What’s next? A wedding invitation?"

Kori shrugs. "You would be welcome to attend."

Jason’s brain momentarily short-circuited before he sputtered. "…That was a joke, Kori."

You snort. "Don’t explode, Jay. We’re best friends. This is just Kori being affectionate. You know how she is."

Jason squinted suspiciously, pointing an accusatory finger. "I don’t sit on Roy’s lap. Not like that."

"Okay," you deadpanned, "but you could, you just don't."

Jason narrowed his eyes, walking slowly toward the couch, still pouting. "I feel like I’ve walked into a really weird romcom. Or a very specific fanfiction."

Kori simply smiled at Jason, not bothering to move. "Do not worry, Jason. You are still her chosen snuggle companion for the nightly hours."

"Damn right I am."

That night, as you lay in bed, Jason's arms wrapped tightly around you, on the verge of falling asleep, he suddenly asked. "You love me more than her, right, babe?"

You blink sleepily. "Hmm? Babe, I live with you."

"That’s not a no."

TIM DRAKE

Tim’s curled up on the couch in full comfort mode: hoodie, blanket, snacks, and a fond little smile on his face as he taps the FaceTime icon next to his girlfriend’s name.

It rings once. Twice. Then the screen opens to reveal not you, his beloved girlfriend, but Stephanie Brown.

In what appears to be a changing room, with a shit eating grin on her face.

"Hey, Loverboy."

Tim chokes on a gummy bear. "Why are you answering?!"

She grins, swinging the camera around to show you, standing in front of a mirror, wearing an absolutely illegal red lace number.

You gasp. "STEPHANIE!"

"You said you wanted his opinion!" She cackles.

"I meant after I bought it! It's supposed to be a surprise!"

Tim sputters, "I can check the fit! That’s literally my job!"

You tried not to laugh. "Babe, please stop behaving like you’re in an interview."

"But, I’m qualified! More than her! That should be me!" He says, indignant.

Steph winks. "Clearly not, if you’re stuck watching from home."

You grin, unable to stop yourself from throwing fuel on the fire. "It’s true. It’s a bestie thing. Steph’s like my other half."

"I thought I was your other half." Tim's eye was twitching.

"You thought wrong!" Steph mocked, wrapping her arms around you and cupping one of your boobs with her free hand as Tim screeched bloody murder over the phone.

"Those are mine! Mine!"

"Not anymore. Bye loser." Steph cackled before abruptly hanging up the phone, promptly declining every one of Tim's spam calls as you watched on with a wince.

"Steph, when I said I wanted to blow his mind, this is not what I meant."

BRUCE WAYNE

Bruce was exhausted, his bruises had bruises and muscles he wasn't previously aware of ached. It had been the 'week from hell', as Dick had moaned, with a large-scale Arkham breakout not even the worst thing that had happened.

His only solace had been knowing you'd be waiting for him in bed that night, soft and warm, your very presence enough to soothe him as you cuddled into his chest.

The batsuit lay scattered across the ground, he'd apologise to Alfred for the mess later, if he remembered, right now all he wanted was to pull you against his bare chest and bury his face in your neck for the foreseeable future.

He'd gotten back far later than expected, and though the bedroom door was open, your back was to him, snuggled under the covers having fallen asleep waiting for him.

Carefully pulling the covers back, he slid in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist with a contented sigh. Only to freeze at the feel of another body next to you. He's not immediately alarmed, assuming it's just Damian, only to nearly fall out of the bed at the sight of Diana.

"Hmm, Bruce?" You groaned, rolling to face him with a sleepy smile.

"Honey. There's an Amazon in our bed." He sighs.

"We're having a sleepover." You mumble, as if that was enough of an explanation.

"Whyyy?" He whines, too exhausted to be embarrassed about his childish behaviour.

"Cause cuddles."

"I give you cuddles!"

"Not Amazonian cuddles." You mumble under your breath.

"Are you saying she's better than me?" Bruce was outraged.

"It's not a competition." Before Bruce can counter, your door creaks open again, revealing an excited looking Clark dressed in pyjamas.

"No." He growls, making you, Clark and Diana all whine.

"Bruce, you know Clark gets fomo!"

#x reader #dc x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #female reader #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd x fem reader #tim drake x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dick grayson x female!reader #diana prince #koriand'r #stephanie brown #donna troy

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sadhours · 7 months ago

Text

kinktober day two • accidental stimulation

aka: melting

steve harrington x fem!reader

kinktober masterlist

cw: 18+, minors dni, dry humping, public sex (kind of), slight humiliation, p in v

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Scoops Ahoy! is the bane of your existence. Shilling ice cream for bratty kids and old classmates is a real pain in the ass. Especially on days like today, when you have to work with Steve instead of Robin. Steve’s annoying, always has been. You were once paired up with him for a biology project in high school and he didn’t do a goddamn thing but took credit and you’ve been holding onto that grudge for years. At the time, Steve treated you like the dog shit under his shoe but times have changed.

You’d sprouted tits and actually learned how to take care of yourself— how to wear makeup and style your hair. It’s landed you in a weird spot with Harrington. He hits on repeatedly, almost on the hour during hour six hour shifts. Maybe if he’d hadn’t been such a dick to you in high school, you’d consider it because let’s face it; Steve Harrington is a babe. A stupid, arrogant babe. It’s kind of fun, turning him down. Feels like you’ve won something. Even though, you ponder what would happen if you gave into his incessant flirting.

However, today, you wanna sock him right in his beautiful face. He’s been incredibly annoying, complaining how he hasn’t felt the touch of a woman since Nancy and how the uniform really isn’t helping his case. You’d beg to differ. He unfortunately looks… attractive in it. But he’s fallen off the social ladder and that’s why the girls reject him.

It’s closing time, you’re bent over into the drop ins. Covering the big gallons of ice cream when Harrington tries to sneak behind you to close up the topping bar. His crotch grazes your ass and he freezes. Pathetically, makes a shocked noise and presses his hand against the small of your back.

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice echoing inside the drop-in freezer.

Steve doesn’t move, keeps his crotch firmly pressed against your ass and even rolls his hips. You can feel his cock hardening behind his polyester shorts and your eyes widen. Why the fuck isn’t he moving? And worse, how did he get hard just from barely grazing against you? He’s really down bad.

You try to look back at him but then he’s grabbing your hips, rolls his again and you stare stunned down at the tub of U.S.S Butterscotch.

He jolts back, you can hear his body making contact with the counter behind him as he exclaims, “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to…”

You pull your head out of the freezer and turn to him, a sly smile spreading across your lips, “Did that make you hard?”

“No,” he lies but the proof is staring you in the face, those little blue shorts doing nothing to help him hide it.

You laugh, soft and shocked and fine, okay— flattered.

“Wow,” you exhale, “I didn’t realize it was that dire.”

“Shut up,” he shakes his head and tries to look nonchalant, but his cheeks are red, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Another laugh, your eyes trained on his erection straining through his uniform and then he moves his hands to cover it. His eyes everywhere but on you. You hum, pout and tilt your head, “You’re not as suave as you think.”

He swallows hard, “I need to, close the topping station… I uh—“

“Yeah… and I need to finish covering the ice cream. I’m gonna bend back over and do that…” you tell him, feeling bold because well, it’s been a long time for you to and you can’t deny you enjoyed the feeling of him against you. “If I feel something… I’m just gonna keep doing what I’m doing.”

You spin back around and get back to covering the tubs. Steve’s not as stupid as you thought, because when you duck back into the freezer, his crotch is pressed against your ass again. His large hands wrap around your hips, holding you steady.

Thank god you guys were behind tonight. The mall has to be empty, gates all closed and the whole food court is quiet. You wiggle back against him and Steve lets out a sound you hate to admit is pretty.

Keeping true to your word, you act as if nothing is happening as you cover all the tub while Steve grinds against you from behind. And you let him. Welcome it, actually. Feel pretty because of it. You even grind back against him, feeling your thighs heat up. This is dangerous yet it feels like maybe it was bound to happen. A part of you thinks that maybe if you give Steve this, he’ll stop being so insufferable. Like he needs to have this kind of interaction with a woman in order to stop seeking it out so desperately. You want to give Steve what he wants— what he’s been begging for for months.

The pair of you keep grinding into each other for a while. Until you start to feel uncomfortable from the coldness of the freezer. So you pull yourself out of it. Move over to the register and bend over the counter. Steve follows you, presses himself up against your ass again and drags his hands down your back.

So you reach behind you, pull the skirt of your uniform up and then push your underwear down your thighs.

“Fuck,” Steve exhales as he watches and you can hear him undoing his shorts and shoving them down. “I’ve had dreams like this.”

Yeah, that’s a big inflation to your ego. And you can’t help but admit, “Me too.”

Steve groans lowly, brings his fingers to your cunt and rubs them up through your folds. He scissors your clit and then brings them back down, circling around your entrance. “I’m kind of big, I should probably get you ready,” he says and sinks two fingers into your pussy.

You gasp and moan, rolling your hips back on his fingers. Part of you wants to look back, see if he’s exaggerating but from what you could see in his shorts, you don’t think he is. Steve thrusts his fingers in and out of you slowly, spreads them while they’re deep inside and you have to bite your lip to keep quiet. You’re sure you’re alone in this mall, aside from the security guards but they don’t hang around the food court this time of night. Better be safe, though.

“You dream about me?” you ask, voice shaky.

“All the time,” Steve breathes out, pulling his fingers out but circles the tips of them along your hole. “Didn’t know it’d be so easy like this.”

You giggle, pushing your ass back against him as you tell him, “Me either. You’re a pain in my ass, but you are cute.”

“Am I?” he asks, leaning over you and kissing against your neck just as he slides his fingers back inside you.

A groan pours from you as you close your eyes, “Shut up, Harrington, you know you’re hot.”

He licks your jaw, then nips at it gently before pressing his lips against your ear, “I know I am. I didn’t know you thought so, too.”

God, you wish you could see his face— to remind you how much you really think so. You know he’s still wearing that dumb sailor hat he hates so much and you haven’t had the guts to tell him he looks cute in it. He adds a third finger and the stretch of it has you crying out. Steve fucking tsks, tells you, “Just wait until I get my cock inside you.”

“Do it,” you plead, pushing your ass back against him desperately.

He nips at your jaw again, fingers leaving you abruptly as he grips his cock and guides his tip towards your hole. Once you feel it prodding, you inhale sharply. He slips the tip in, stretching you beautifully— almost has you in tears but he goes slow. Allows you to adjust to every inch as he mouths at your jaw and neck.

You feel like you're melting, hands gripping the counter as he sheathes himself inside you to the hilt. He’s completely inside you, hands clinging onto your hips as your walls grip and pulse around his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine out, “You’re so fucking big.”

He groans, right against your ear and mumbles, “I told you…”

Everything is fuzzy. Scoops Ahoy! doesn’t exist. You’re in space with Steve’s impressive cock buried inside you, not in the mall where there’s a potential to be seen. He thrusts forward hard and deep, making you yelp. He grabs your jaw, turns your face towards him and kisses you sloppily, silencing your involuntary noises. He tastes sweet, like the maraschino cherries he snacks on. You wonder if you taste like the ice cream sundae he made you for your break. You try to think about when he slid it to you and said he made it with love. Which is easy to forget as he rolls his hips, cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

“You’re so tight,” he babbles out.

You reply with, “you’re so big…”

“Feel good, yeah? Me stretching you out?”

“So… fucking… good,” you give in, gasping into the sideways kiss as he delivers a hard and deep thrust.

Steve’s hands reach around, cupping your breasts over your uniform and you wish you weren’t at work— but somewhere where he could feel you up, completely exposed. This will have to do, though. He kisses your neck sloppily, repetitively across the expanse of it that his lips can reach. Small, quiet moans falling past your lips, hopefully muffled by the tinny speakers playing easy listening throughout the mall.

“Oh, god, Steve…” you whine, hips jutting into the counter from the force of his thrusts.

His hands knead against your chest as he presses his face against the crook of your neck and breathes, rugged and heavy. He picks up his pace a bit more and you know he’s close, so you shove your hand down between you and the counter. Get your fingers pressed to your clit and rub circles, mirroring the rhythm of Steve’s thrusts. The feeling of his breath against your neck is surprisingly pleasant. You focus hard on reaching your climax, luckily getting there before Steve. Unfortunately, you can’t keep your volume under control as you moan. Feel too good to really care, even. Steve whines from the sound, pulling out of you quick and then you feel thick, hot ropes of cum landing on your exposed ass.

Then the pair of you stay still, awkwardly— just panting. You turn your head to look back at him as he uses his apron to clean the mess on your skin. It makes you laugh, which causes Steve to smile and laugh. He’s got his shorts back up and he moves to pull your underwear up. Then you turn and look at him. He chews his bottom lip, staring back at you.

“I uh, forgot to ask you earlier but, could you give me a ride home tonight?” you ask, cheeks red in embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” he nods, looking as awkward as you feel.

You grab onto the collar of his uniform and suggest, “Maybe we could hang out at your place for a bit, first?”

Steve grins, gorgeous white teeth on display and he puts his hands on your hips, leans down and says, “Yeah, that could be fun.” before he plants a kiss on your lips.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem

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snowballseal · 10 months ago

Text

Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days.

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d*** bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.”

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization.

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

#lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads sylus x reader #love and deepspace reader insert #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus x reader #x reader #reader insert #jealousy #love and deepspace sylus

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hyukascampfire · 2 months ago

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(🧦) THINK I CAN'T? .. い葉 hard thoughts

𝓘N WHICH 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝖻𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗽

husband수빈 ⟡ fem r 1OOO ········· est relationship fluff smut … unprotected sex creampie trying for a baby sweetness breeding kink trad roles

⠀ɑ︭ : my second breeding kink soobin fic... i have no excuses. this hard thought is from @saejinniestar everybody give her a round of applause for this beauty :3

Soobin won’t accept it. He just can’t. When you began trying, he assumed that it would take him… What? A month? To get you pregnant. Well, it’s been more than a month. Six, to be exact. That single red line appears behind his eyelids every time he curls up behind you for bed, taunting him. He feels like even less of a man each time you walk into the bathroom with wary hope in your eyes and then walk out with your shoulders drooping.

No, he certainly can’t handle it at all. A month ago you brought him along to your friend’s baby shower. The sweet pink blush on your cheeks as you tried to smile for her and pretend that she wasn’t living your dream was simply the icing on the cake. He’s been all over you since that day, because suddenly the thought of you with a round belly and the glow of pregnancy around you has become entirely real, and entirely branded into the back of his skull. The baby section in stores and all those clothes, impossibly tiny and precious, have begun to be taunting more than endearing. How cruel. You’ve checked your fertility, and he’s checked his. Perfectly normal. So, why the hell can’t he get you pregnant?

And you wish he didn’t blame himself. You run his hair between your fingers and pepper kisses over his cheeks and tell him that you couldn’t ask for a better partner and future father to your children, but that’s just adding insult to injury. A deeper part of you has already begun to try and make peace with perhaps having to build your family another way, and Soobin’s already tearing himself up.

“You know, I was researching IVF…” you say, words muffled into the blanket he long ago claimed to be his. He’d been at work all day, and it smelt of velvety woods and whisky traces of his cologne. Anything to be closer to him. Especially these days.

Soobin freezes, frowning. “IVF?” A thousand thoughts flash through his head, but he couldn't lie. Each and every one involved pinning you to the bed and filling you up. “Are you serious? You think I can’t get you pregnant?” The first time you’ve had this conversation out loud—addressed the issue. It’s not working. It wasn’t that it was an irrational thing for you to consider—Soobin knows that. It doesn’t help his bruised ego much to hear his wife consider impregnating herself like that because he couldn’t fucking do it the way nature intended for him to do it.

Sighing, you soften your voice and go to lather him in cashmere kisses. “Soobin… I’m just think—”

He can’t let you get that thought out. He can’t consider that maybe he can’t get his goddamn wife pregnant. Soobin stops you halfway, his mouth on yours as he gets you ready on the bed with his steady strength, flipping you this way and situating your leg that way. Once he has you how he likes, stuffing a pillow beneath your hips because that’s supposed to help. Soobin can’t help but scoff into your neck. If anything’s going to get you knocked up, it’ll be that he keeps you in this bed, soft and sweet for him as you always are, until you’re full of him. That’s that.

You whisper his name as he slides in with tender reverence. Soobin has always been big, and as much as you’ve adjusted to him over time, your toes still curl each time. It makes no sense—you’re both fertile, he never misses a chance to make love to you at peak ovulation, and he nearly brushes your damn cervix when he’s hilted in you. You should be carrying his baby by now. Something in the look in his eye tells you that you just might be, when he’s done with you.

“Just…” Soobin says with his voice on a leash, opting for languid, pointed thrusts. Sex became a chore there for a minute. Something for a means to an end. But he’s gonna make tender love to you tonight, because that’s what his sweet wife deserves. “Let me do this.”

He knows your body and all its little ticks. He knows that you like it when he points his hips that way, and that you like his hands on the fat of your hips as he takes you. Soobin pulls out all the stops, in fact. He bends you nearly in half, because according to whatever some maternity website told him it’s the best way to ensure his cum takes. You’re making sweet sounds into his neck and he’s losing himself at the desperate thought that after this, some day soon you’ll be under him like this with your belly in the way and begging for him to take care of your hormone-sensitive body.

Soobin’s mind muffles at the thought. The way that you’re looking up at him with glazed eyes and how your heels dig into the dimples at his spine as if even subconsciously you’re begging for him to impregnate you. He chases it until he’s pinning you to the bed and filling you up with a shuddered, husky whimper and a thousand panted ‘I love you’s puffing out into the air between you. Because he can’t handle it; he absolutely cannot wait to have a family with you, and he cannot wait for you to give him such a gift. With you.

The sound of him pulling out of you is a resounding wet pop. The white rivulets of his cum come oozing out after it, warm down your skin.

Soobin would usually go to plug it right back into you with his fingers, but he can’t help watching it for a while as he catches his breaths and presses a warm kiss to your ankle. And he just knows. He just knows that this is it. Heart aching in his chest, he pulls you to his solid chest, feeling the shape of you against him and letting himself appreciate your weight and soft edges. “You don’t need to do anything,” he breathes into your skin. “Let me take care of it, love.”

Sure enough, the next test you take answers with two, indelible red lines. Soobin sure did take care of it, just how you know he’ll take care of you and your family. He couldn’t get his hands off you that night, and as you begin to show with a soft curve to your belly, he’s even worse off, because fuck.

He did that.

OO1. 【 tagging 】 . . . @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @xylatox , @filmnings , @hearteyes4hobi , @hyunj00 , @taebatu , @caratcakemoa , @biteyoubiteme , @dawngyu , @hyunruhi

rblgs & asks >ᴗ<

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terraswallows · 2 months ago

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I don’t know how anyone expects me to be “normal” again. after transitioning.

like I could ever go back to that numb, half-version of myself now that I’ve finally started to feel.

There’s a whole new language living in me. Thoughts that weren’t there before. Feelings that crept in slow and now won’t leave—soft, girlish things that’ve carved themselves into my vocabulary. A blush when a girl holds my gaze too long. The way I catch myself swaying to music that feels like home in my hips. The aching desire to just be held without needing to explain why.

And then there’s my autism—sweet, difficult, intimate autism. The way I stall right before doing something, because my brain wants a blueprint first. I don’t need a push, I need a hand. Someone to whisper, “Here’s how it's done.” and maybe smile as they guide me through it.

But most people? They get uncomfortable with those kinds of requests. They don’t like slowing down, or making space, or walking me through the step by step. They get impatient.

Except trans girls.

Trans girls get it. We’ve all stumbled through these messy, glowing awakenings together. We’ve all had to relearn how to live in our own skin. And so when I hesitate—when I stammer or freeze or overthink—another transfem will often just… know. She’ll soften her voice, offer a reassuring look, maybe graze her fingers against mine like she’s saying, “I’ve got you. Let's try this again.”

It’s tender. It’s playful, too—how we flirt with our fear, tease the tension away. How a “let me help you” can turn into “let me hold you,” and suddenly, you're melting into her arms wondering how you ever existed without this.

And if I happen to fall in love with every girl who walks me through it?

Well… I think that’s just part of the magic.

#trans #trans community #transgender #mtf trans #transfem #lgbtq #lgbtqia #trans woman #transgirl

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megumismyhusband · 4 months ago

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bakugo hates them. he hates them so much. those little naked angel babies with their stupid tiny wings and their dumb little hats—why do you have so many?? why do they all have different themes?? why is there a whole shelf dedicated to them in your room??

but what really pisses him off is how you call them cute. all the damn time.

“look at this one, katsuki! it’s got a little strawberry hat!”

“isn’t this one adorable? he’s a tiny cow!!”

but do you ever call him cute?? no. never. not once.

so one day, he snaps. he waits until you’re out, then he gathers up every single one of those freaky little babies and hides them in his closet. he’s thorough about it, too—makes sure not a single one is left behind. when you come back, you immediately notice.

“where are my sonny angels?”

“what sonny angels?” he says, completely deadpan.

you narrow your eyes. “katsuki.”

“maybe they got tired of bein’ called cute and ran away,” he mutters, arms crossed.

you gasp. dramatically. “you took them.”

“i hid them,” he corrects, scowling. “you should be callin’ me cute, not those weird-ass naked babies.”

you stare at him for a long moment. then, slowly, a grin spreads across your face.

“oh my god,” you say. “you’re jealous of my sonny angels.”

“no, i’m not—”

“you are!” you laugh, absolutely delighted. “you’re mad because i call them cute instead of you!”

his face goes red—like, really red. “shut up.”

“katsu,” you coo, poking his cheek. “are you jealous of my tiny, plastic, naked angel babies?”

“i said shut up!!” he barks, turning away, ears burning.

you just laugh harder, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “aww, but you are cute, katsuki.”

he freezes. you feel him stiffen, then relax just a little. “…damn right i am.”

you press a kiss to his cheek. “can i have my sonny angels back now?”

“ugh. fine.” he stomps off to get them, grumbling under his breath. when he hands them over, he glares at the tiny plastic faces. “they’re still ugly.”

you just smile, holding one up. “say hi to your competition.”

“i hate you.”

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sknyuz · 26 days ago

Note

hello!! I want to make a request ; is it alright if you can write about how seong je would be with a mute!reader? i just think it’d be an interesting dynamic ..! hmm other details i’d add is the reader often giving affection in a form of gifting (letters mayb?), cooking him a meal or quality time :) you may write this in whatever format you want!! thank youu and have a nice week (ps love your writing)

synopsis — seongje is a whirlwind of noise and chaos, but he finds unexpected peace in your silence.

now playing — sweet - cigarettes after sex pairing — geum seongje x gn!reader (hard of hearing, selectively mute) genre — hurt/comfort, slowburn, angst with soft moments, unconventional romance (nothing is conventional with seongje) cw — ableism/mocking of hearing disability, bullying, violence (including implied offscreen physical assault), power imbalance, toxic behavior, minor blood/bruising, strong language wc — ~2.1k

note: this was a pleasure to write <3 i hope i did ur request justice, anon. and please do not hesitate to tell me if i wrote something wrong or inaccurate to the experiences of hoh individuals.

masterlist | join the taglist | 400 follower event

seongje doesn’t do “quiet.” he doesn’t do subtlety, either. his entire existence is loud—his presence is a storm that makes everything feel tense and unpredictable. that’s how he’s known: the unpredictable, impulsive force, the mad dog. so, when he sees you for the first time, it’s almost like a challenge.

you’re sitting there, silently, in the bowling alley, a forced audience to the bullying happening around you. the union’s delinquents have gathered, sneering as they taunt you. they wave your hearing aids in front of you like a sick joke, expecting you to react. but you don’t. you’re quiet, your face unreadable, eyes glued to the floor, trying to stay as small as possible, like you’ve done countless times before. it’s a game for them, nothing more than a way to make you feel like an outsider.

“hey, freak, what’s wrong? can’t hear us?” one of them mocks, swinging your hearing aids back and forth with a smirk.

the noise is deafening to you in a different way—a slow, rising pressure in your chest. you want to speak, to make them stop. but your voice won’t come, and the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by that quiet ache of helplessness.

that’s when seongje steps in.

he’s not supposed to be there. he’s supposed to be in baekjin’s office, probably arguing or being a general pain in the ass—but the noise coming from the alleyway catches his attention. he comes striding out, a curse on his lips as he surveys the scene, his eyes lighting up with the familiar flash of anger.

“what’s with all the fucking noise, fuckers?!,” seongje shouts, his voice dripping with disdain as he eyes the delinquents, but his gaze lands on the one holding your hearing aids, who freezes up as soon as he realizes who’s standing in front of him.

“aww, you guys are really fucking pathetic,” seongje steps forward, his mood shifting from bored to dangerous in an instant. he slaps the delinquent’s face, knocking the hearing aids out of his grip, and catches them before they hit the floor.

the delinquent stumbles back, startled, and seongje doesn’t miss the way his bravado slips. “hey, if you want to get your ass kicked, i’ll be happy to oblige. otherwise, get the fuck out of here,” seongje growls, and his voice carries an unmistakable warning.

the delinquents scatter quickly, realizing they’re not really looking forward to get beat up by the wolf himself. seongje watches them leave with a bored smirk, but his eyes return to you, where you’re still sitting silently, your gaze downcast. his anger bubbles under the surface, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at you—it’s more frustration at how they treated you. and, maybe… it’s confusion. because why would he be frustrated?

he despises those who put on a front, acting all tough and dominant when they're around someone they know is weaker, but turn into cowards the moment they face someone like seongje. the hypocrisy makes him sick—they don’t even have the balls to face him.

you look up at him then, your lips parting as if to say something, but the words stay locked inside. seongje stares back, a little too long, before he gestures to the now-empty bowling alley with a roll of his eyes.

“shit, it’s way too quiet in here now,” seongje mutters, half to himself. “i need a fucking drink. you coming?” his fist reaching out to you, making you flinch, but he simply turns and opens his palm to reveal your hearings aids, offering it back to you, his gaze not even meeting yours.

you hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. seongje doesn’t wait for a reply. he knows how this works—he doesn’t need words from you to tell if you’re okay. you’ve already said more than enough with that silence of yours.

it’s a few weeks later when seongje starts to notice something he wasn’t expecting—something soft. you’re not the type to speak, but you show him things. you leave him little letters. they’re simple at first, just words on paper—carefully written, neat and soft. but each one has meaning. you might leave him a note after a chaotic day, telling him, thank you for helping me today—a gesture he’s not used to.

seongje can’t stop himself from reading them over and over, even if he pretends they don’t matter. he tosses the first one aside in an exaggerated motion, but later, when he’s alone, he pulls it out again, trying to make sense of it. there’s something oddly comforting in your words. something real. his usual sharpness dulls just a little when he reads them.

it’s a typical night, and you don’t expect anything to go wrong. seongje has always been unpredictable, but you can’t stop yourself from trusting him. there’s a strange sort of understanding between the two of you now. he doesn’t need you to speak, and you don’t need him to be anything but… himself. still, you don’t expect what happens when he calls you to meet him in a parking lot late one evening.

the dim light from the streetlamps makes the whole place feel cold and detached. you spot him standing there, leaning against the hood of a car, his eyes narrowing slightly when he sees you approach. but there’s something different tonight—something unsettling in his stance.

"come here," seongje says, his voice almost too casual for the tense atmosphere.

your breath catches in your throat as the boy on his knees comes into focus. you've seen him around before—he’s one of the delinquents from the union. the same one who’d been taunting you in the bowling alley, waving your hearing aids like some cruel joke. that memory hits you sharply, and your stomach churns with discomfort as you recognize him now, his face bruised and bloodied, a lip split open, looking like he’s been through hell.

but why is he here? why is he on his knees, shaking in front of seongje? what happened to him?

seongje stands over him, his posture casual, his grin wide and wicked as he watches the boy with almost bored amusement. he kicks the delinquent’s side lightly, like it’s a game, and the boy flinches.

"come on, kid," seongje says, his voice teasing but edged with something darker, something almost amused by the kid’s fear. "just like we practiced."

the delinquent on his knees doesn’t speak, his eyes downcast, probably too terrified to even look up at seongje, but his shaky hand lifts. you watch as he tries to make the "a" handshape, his fingers clumsy as he attempts to sign. seongje looks down at the boy, his grin stretching wider as he watches him fumble.

the delinquent hurriedly completes the sign, his hands shaking, his breath coming in short bursts as he struggles to perform it correctly. he spins his hand in a half-hearted clockwise motion, and you can tell how hard it is for him to even try. he looks humiliated, and maybe that’s what seongje wants—to make him feel small, to show that he’s the one in control now. like how the boy probably felt back in the bowling alley with you.

“sorry.” he signed.

as the boy finishes, seongje pats his shoulder with an almost affectionate thud, a grin still plastered on his face. “good job,” he mutters, voice dripping with mock praise. but his eyes flick to you, then back to the delinquent, as if waiting for some kind of reaction.

the delinquent scrambles to his feet, not daring to say a word, but you can see the fear still fresh in his eyes. without another glance, he stumbles off into the shadows of the parking lot, and seongje doesn’t follow him, not bothering with any more theatrics. “now that’s how you apologize,” he sighs contentedly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he walks back to where you two came from.

you don’t respond, but you follow him. because, despite everything—despite how messed up all of this is—he’s still the one who, somehow, happened to feel like the safest person to be around. despite his… unique antics.

despite the way he does things no one else would dare to. because even if he’s rough around the edges, unpredictable and loud, seongje never made you feel small. and that, weirdly enough, was enough.

seongje’s desk at the bowling alley becomes a quiet sort of shrine to you—littered with your letters and notes, half-crumpled from him rereading them over and over. he never bothers to clean it up. they’re scattered across the surface like leaves in a storm, but he knows exactly where each one is. it’s an organized mess, chaotic in the same way he is. but if anyone even looks at them too long—tries to pick one up, makes a joke about the handwriting, even breathes too close to the edge of his desk—they’re basically asking for a death wish.

“touch it and you die,” he’ll mutter without even looking up, one foot kicked up on the desk, cigarette dangling from his lips. it’s not even a threat—it’s a promise.

somewhere in between the late night meetups—where the world is quiet and it’s just the two of you—and the stolen moments in back rooms lit by vending machine glow, seongje softens. not in a way that’s obvious to most, but in ways you catch. like when he plays bowling with you late at night at the union headquarters, just the sound of pins crashing echoing through the empty lanes. he’s terrible at it, but he doesn’t care. he would fair better hitting someone at the back of the head with these bowling balls. he only really lights up when it’s your turn.

you roll the ball, knock down every pin, and before you can even react, he’s throwing his hands in the air, exaggeratedly signing applause, a wide grin stretching across his face.

“that’s what i’m fucking talking about!” he shouts, clapping loudly on top of the sign for applause he just made, just because he’s still him—loud, obnoxious, impossible—but now he’s loud for you.

yeah… to seongje, you’re like a stray puppy at first. small, quiet, following him around without saying a word, eyes always wide and watching. at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny—endearing, even. you don’t talk back, don’t flinch when he’s loud, and you’ve got this habit of showing up with little notes or food like some soft, strange ritual he doesn’t understand. he starts calling you “puppy” just to mess with you, ruffling your hair whenever you come around.

but somewhere along the way, that fondness stops being just a game. no, you’re not a pet to seongje. but maybe, you became an equal.

he starts waiting for your notes. starts leaving his office door slightly cracked, just in case you come by. he catches himself watching you instead of his phone. gets weirdly pissed off when other people so much as look at you wrong.

and the night he realizes it’s different—that it’s not just him babysitting some quiet kid—it’s when you sign “stay” with soft hands after a long night, and he does. no grumbling, no jokes, just settles next to you and doesn’t leave.

after that, it’s not a question. you’re not a puppy. you’re his person.

and yeah, maybe he never said you were dating. but everyone knows. you leave your food in the union’s fridge, your letters in his desk, your comfort in the chaos of his life. and he protects you, respects you, listens to your silence more than he’s ever listened to anyone’s voice. and no one in the union dares to bring it up or even question your soft presence in the nitty gritty bowling alley.

seongje is loud. like, really fucking loud. he talks with his whole body, yells when he's annoyed, laughs like he owns the air around him, and never knows when to shut up. he's noise and motion and chaos wrapped in one, dangerously sharp-edged boy. but you—you're quiet. not just in voice, but in presence. you move gently, offer kindness without demanding attention, speak in ways that don’t need sound.

and somehow, in all the noise of his world, your silence is the only thing that ever made sense. he used to think silence was empty, but now it’s where he finds comfort. he’s still loud, still volatile, still the type to throw a punch first and maybe ask questions never. but now there’s this... softness around the edges. a space he carves out just for you. like you’re the eye of the storm, and he’s always, always circling back to you.

in your quiet, he feels understood. and maybe that's the wildest thing about this whole mess—that a boy made of sound found peace in someone who never had to say a word.

note: aaa i feel like this so short >><< i wanted to give them more of a backstory but for now this is what i’m going with. if you’d like to see more of them that’d be nice 🫶 this is such a different take from collarless tho, and it’s nice to also write a softer character to contrast our tough collarless!reader to explore more dynamics with seongje.

i don’t aim to reform or soften seongje, but have the peaceful presence of the reader be incorporated into his life without changing his ideals and personality.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ weak hero class ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @loserlvrss @nanamiswifesatorusgf @hateateez @slytherinshua @winnie-bunnie @rexxiiia @mrgzzarella @ilyhachii @youmeshii @actuallynarii @midnight--raine @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @trasshy-artist @crowneve @juicyjam @xh01bri @onyourlisa345 @triciawritesstuff @prettywhenicry4 @dripoftheseus @rosieparkk @gacktsa @sopitadearvejas @satorustorm @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @mirwors @sqacewalkr @l5byrinth @vovoloyo @keumbaku @sarcastic-cookie @v3n0m35 @vitaminbtob @armani78 (ask to be tagged or removed)

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hoshifighting · 7 months ago

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jeonghan + anonymous sex

— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.

you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.

“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.

“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.

she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”

you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”

“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.

finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.

jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”

you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.

“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”

“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.

you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.

“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.

jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”

you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.

“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”

she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”

it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.

“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”

she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”

“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”

you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.

then again—footsteps.

you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.

you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”

you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.

before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”

he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”

“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”

he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”

“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”

“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”

he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”

“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”

“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.

“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”

he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”

you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”

“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.

and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.

he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.

“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”

his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”

“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”

he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.

“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.

“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”

the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.

“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.

“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.

and god, you were close to breaking already.

one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.

“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.

he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.

he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”

you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.

his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”

you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.

he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.

“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.

“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.

“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”

you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.

“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.

“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.

the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”

he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”

you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.

“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”

you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.

“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”

you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.

the thing was;

his eyes had been wide open the whole time.

he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.

as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.

he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.

he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.

“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.

“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”

every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.

“tell me how good it feels.”

“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.

“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”

he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.

“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”

with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.

but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”

“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.

just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.

he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.

“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.

“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.

“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.

a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.

and—

mr. yoon?

“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.

“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.

you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.

“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.

he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.

“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.

your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.

he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”

“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?

you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.

“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”

the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.

[...]

monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.

jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.

the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.

“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”

you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.

he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.

he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”

with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.

“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”

you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?

he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.

“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”

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