#cisfem!reader

[fanaticsnail]

Seat Number Four

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.

Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?

Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.

This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.

What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.

However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.

Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.

The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.

Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.

“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.

“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.

“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.

Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.

“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”

Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.

Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.

“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.

“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.

“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.

“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”

“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.

“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”

“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.

“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.

As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.

While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.

Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”

Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.

Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.

Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.

Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.

Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.

“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.

Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.

“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.

“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.

“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ‘Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.

Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.

Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.

“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.

Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.

“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.

Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.

“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.

“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.

“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.

He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.

“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.

Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.

“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.

“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.

Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.

Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.

“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @imveryyellow

Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.

An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.

Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.

Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.

Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.

Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.

“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.

Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.

A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.

At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.

“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.

Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.

Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.

“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”

[mintmatcha]

You're definitely not supposed to be overhearing this conversation.

"Holy shit, dude," Kirishima's voice echoes down the hall, loud with shock. "That's a whole-ass engagement ring."

"Obviously." Bakugo's voice is lower, barely audible over the radio he conspicuously turned on not too long ago. Even with your ear pressed against the bathroom door, you can barely make out what he's saying. "It's nice, right?"

You know once you open the door, both of them will pretend this conversation never happened. The night will continue as if your boyfriend didn't just reveal he's planning on proposing, and Kirishima will keep this little secret between the two of them, so you stay here, eavesdropping in the bathroom with your heart in your throat.

"Yeah, but..." Kirishima chuckles almost awkwardly. "Do you ever think you're moving a little fast?"

"Are you kidding?" Bakugo barks out a laugh, but his voice is warm and distant, like a memory you can't quite hold, "Every day I'm not married to her is a day wasted."

[rowarn]

i feel like it's rlly necessary to say bc i've seen it but "gender neutral reader" does not work if you also have the reader called "good girl" or "princess".

[krypticcafe]

Watched Guardians of the Galaxy 3 thanks to a local marathon event and I'm not okay 🫠

On the verge of joining Marvel fandom again BUT I REFUSE TO GO BACK, IT'S ETERNAL SUFFERING HFKSKDNAK BUT I HAVE UNFINISHED OC BUSINESS RAHHH and I would LOVE to make more variety in their x reader scene. Like for such a huge fandom, the x reader stuff can be plain as white bread iykyk

[heartapnea]

is this a good time to again ask people not to say fem bodied RAAAAAH

[yinyuedijun]

FUNAYŪREI | sae x reader x rin

Sae still remembers what you'd been like as a little kid, arriving at their doorstep with nothing but a stuffed toy and a satchel full of clothes. He remembers how terrified you were of being thrown away again, and how you'd clung to him as soon as he told you that he'd be sure to take care of you. He remembers how you kissed him the night before he left for Spain, and he remembers your heartbreak when he pushed you away. It's for your own good, he'd said. One day you'll understand that this is wrong. If anything ever happened between us, it'd just hurt you in the end. Watching Rin kiss you now, Sae wishes he had just gone ahead and wounded you all those years ago.

9k words of the original version of desire path from sae's point of view, covering their childhoods. explanation on the relationship between the two versions here.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: incest (blood-related, half-siblings), implied past csa (off-screen, not involving rin or sae), cisfem reader, teenage sexuality, hurt/comfort, childhood romance, psychological drama, non-explicit sex between adults. use of japanese familial honorifics. see endnotes for translation of the title.

note: this fic started off as a deconstruction of itoshicest fics, where I asked myself, "what would it take for sae and rin to actually develop feelings for their younger sister?" the answer made for a very uncomfortable story, so please mind the warnings!

MDNI + DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

WHEN YOU WERE TWELVE YEARS OLD, YOU NEARLY DROWNED IN SAGAMI BAY. It was early March on a Sunday morning, so there was no one else on the beach, no responsible adults. It was just you, Rin, and Sae. You and Rin got it in your minds to have a swim race despite the high tide—maybe because of it, knowing the two of you—and for some stupid reason, Sae hadn't stopped you. It haunts him to this day that he didn't.

He remembers it all with stark, photographic precision: the seafoam and turquoise currents of Yuigahama beach; your arms flailing above the water's surface, riptide devouring your little form; the frigid chill of the sea as Sae dove toward you. Sae still has nightmares about your body after it was dragged out of the water, drenched and corpse-still on white sand. He remembers pressing his hands to your chest over and over, trying to pump the seawater from your lungs. He remembers the screaming, the crying, Rin's pale face as the two of them tried to wake you up.

He dreamt last night of the icy, smooth press of your lips as he tried to breathe life into you. He dreamt of holding you as you cried and gasped for air in his arms.

"You're awake," you say, and Sae turns.

He glances down at you. Your body is nude against the white sheets; your lips are still swollen from the night before. They curl sweetly, right beneath your adoring gaze. You had grown up looking at him like that, full of the unconditional type of trust of which only children are capable. You had kissed him looking like that, all sweet and tender for him last night. You had let him finish inside you looking like that, clinging to him and crying so needily as he filled you. I love you, you'd told him. I love you, I love you.

I love you, Nii-chan. So please don't leave us again.

Sae feels cold, like he's back in Sagami Bay. His lungs are filled with saltwater as he wades through the violent sea, and he can't breathe.

"Nii-chan?" you ask, pretty lashes framing your worried eyes, and he's swept up in the tide again, unable to save you.

SAE WAS NINE YEARS OLD WHEN HE MET YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME. You were a fragile little thing on his doorstep, carrying a stuffed animal and a satchel full of cheap clothes. Your eyes were heavy on the floor, framed by delicate lashes and weighed by shadows that belonged on the face of an adult. Sae remembers thinking that you must have been older than you actually were because of it; he'd never seen a child with such a solemn, tired expression.

Rin watched you with a curious gaze, perplexed at what was happening; Sae watched you with a wary one, the way he'd study an object on the verge of breaking: like a pretty vase sitting on the edge of a table, a flowerbed in the path of a careless shoe, a delicate sandcastle before a group of children.

Or his mother's trembling voice during an argument with their father, heard through thin walls.

On the morning before your arrival, Sae's mother had looked similarly on the verge of tears, but by the time she let you through the door, she had collected herself. She knelt down and gave you a kind, reassuring smile as she introduced you to Sae and Rin. "These are your new brothers," she told you, and you and Rin had both seemed uncertain about the declaration. Rin squinted at you, made a suspicious face; you shrank back from him, startled.

Sae, on the other hand, took it all in stride. His father had given him a talk about this, after all. As always, his tone had been calm and almost brisk. His face was stony too, eyes a cool, perfect blue—like he was on the phone with some businessman, rather than talking to his son.

You have a sister, he'd said, just a little younger than Rin. She's coming to live with us. You're the oldest, so it's your job to take care of her. Tell Rin to be nice to her, too—she's been through a lot. She's very shy, and she scares easily. She'll probably be nervous around you both.

Sae had asked what you'd been through, and he hadn't gotten an answer. He'd also asked why you didn't live with them beforehand, and why he didn't know you existed until that day, and if you were the reason why their mother had been crying so much lately, but he didn't get answers for those questions, either—only a deep frown and curt warning, words taut with carefully restrained anger. Sae was a smart enough kid to know to stop asking questions then.

All those details stopped mattering to Sae as soon as he met you, anyway. His heart ached for you from the moment he first laid eyes on you—why, he doesn't know. He guesses that it's because you had been such a fragile little thing, too scared to look anyone in the eye, too nervous to make the slightest noise—unless it was at night, and you were all alone. He heard you then, your room separated from his by only a thin wall: crying in your sleeping moments, sniffling in your waking ones. It kept him awake, thinking about what could make a person cry like that. About how evil someone would need to be to hurt someone like you.

Sae decided that he didn't care what had happened to you. He was only glad that it wasn't happening anymore, and that it would never happen again.

IT WOULD TAKE NEARLY TWO MONTHS BEFORE RIN AND SAE LEARNED WHAT YOUR VOICE SOUNDED LIKE. Whatever the two of them did, you wouldn't talk. Sae guesses that he approached it all wrong with you from the start, and it was a slow, painstaking process of earning your trust after that. He hadn't been a particularly nice kid, always blunt and a little unapproachable to most people. Even with his little brother, he'd never been outwardly nice in the honeyed type of way that most people liked, but he didn't need to be. Rin always understood that he was kind, gentle in his own way.

But even though you were going to be his new youngest sibling, Sae quickly learned that his usual way of speaking wouldn't work with you. A flat voice would make you uneasy, and any neutrality in his expression got read as anger. You told him as much years later, a finger tracing the flat line of his mouth, a little smile blooming at the quirk of his brow.

That kind of face would have terrified you when you were a child. You laughed when you said as much: "I was such a paranoid kid, wasn't I? Way too sensitive. Bet it was annoying for you."

Sae didn't laugh at you, then. He didn't even smile.

"I didn't find it annoying," was all he said. His voice was curt. You hesitated, but quickly relaxed. Kissed him on the cheek and said he'd always been so kind, and then he had to cast away his gaze.

For ages, Sae kept using his natural expressions and voice, and was confused at how you never reacted well to his attempts at being kind. At dinnertime, Sae would ask you which dish was your favourite—he wanted to grab some for you before Rin could inhale it all, he said—and you wouldn't answer. In the evenings, Sae would wrestle the remote away from Rin and ask what you wanted to watch—otherwise it'd be Chibi Marukochan again—but you only looked away, fidgeting. He asked you, of course, if you wanted to play soccer with them, but you just gave him a helpless look and never seemed happy to come along.

Even Rin—sweet in the way that Sae wasn't, gentle and open like their mother—had trouble with you. You weren't scared around Rin, but you still didn't know how to react to his friendliness. On weekends, Rin would take you to Sae's soccer matches, narrate his older brother's every move, and you would hardly react. You only watched Sae from your seat, quiet and obedient next to Rin. His little brother found it deeply frustrating—weren't you being kind of rude?—and Sae remembers having to defuse a temper tantrum that would have definitely terrified you.

Some years later, Rin commented on what a weird kid you'd been when you first arrived, and you shrugged it off.

"I just didn't know the answers to any of those questions," you explained. Rin gave you a sceptical look.

"You didn't know what foods you liked to eat? Or what shows you wanted to watch?"

"Nope. I didn't get to watch TV before I lived here, so I didn't know any kid's shows. And my mom and dad never fed me anything decent, so I didn't have any favourite foods."

"Like, they were bad cooks?"

"Something like that."

"And you ignored me during all those soccer matches, because…?"

"I didn't know the rules. I had no idea what was going on, so I couldn't comment."

"You could have asked me to explain things."

"I was scared you'd get mad at me, if I did."

"What?" Rin frowned then, and Sae wondered if his brother would finally put together the pieces. "I wouldn't get mad at you over something like that."

"Are you sure?" You sat up, gave him a playful little smile. "You get mad and petty about stupid shit all the time when it comes to soccer, Rin-chan."

"I do not. And"—Rin scowled, drawing a giggle out of you—"don't call me that. I'm older than you."

"We're basically the same age!"

"Not by several months." Rin glanced at Sae. "You address him properly. Why not me?"

"Because I like you less."

"You little—"

A squeal. Rin's arms had locked around your waist, and now you were squirming in his grip, peals of laughter escaping you as his hands found your most ticklish spots. Rin's mouth twitched despite the glare he was trying to feign, his eyes bright. Endeared. Sae found himself shifting restlessly, watching Rin's face, listening to your unabashed joy.

"Rin," he interrupted. "Hold her there for a sec."

"What?" you yelped. You looked up at Sae, wide-eyed and pleading. You even batted your lashes at him—long, pretty; you had worn a lot of mascara that day, and Sae knew it was because you were planning to spend time with him—but he just gave you an unimpressed stare and flicked you on the forehead.

"Behave," he said. "Don't be rude."

"Fine." You pouted, turning around and making a face at Rin. "Can you please let me go, Rin-nii?"

"I guess."

When Rin released you, you gave him a peck on the cheek, and he returned it with a look of mild revulsion, wiping away the pink stain you'd left next to his mouth. You didn't pay him any mind though, just shifting over to Sae and pressing yourself to him. You did the doe-eyed thing again, squeezing his arm as you looked up at him.

"See? I'm well-behaved."

He gave you a flat look. "Hm. I wonder."

Sae remembers the shiny pout of your lips in that moment—calculated, glossy, strawberry-flavoured. You'd dragged him out shopping a week earlier and pointed at a new lip collection, locking your fingers with his and pulling him toward the display. You only let him go so that you could swatch pink-red lines onto your wrist, telling him to choose which shade he liked best on you. Then you noticed they were flavoured and you asked him which fruit he most preferred.

Cherry is his favourite, but he'd lied.

IT WASN'T THAT YOU LIKED RIN LESS. It was more that you liked Sae differently, at least when you were kids. At least before Spain. He supposes that it was because he was the first and only person you started trusting, after you arrived—something that was inevitable, he thinks.

He'd been the eldest, after all. It had been his job to take care of you.

Sae had been the first person to get you to talk, all those years ago. He'd spent weeks thinking of ways to do it, stretching his little kid brain to its very limits. He had high hopes for the soccer plan, because who didn't enjoy that game? He and Rin spent weeks trying to teach you how to play, and although you could go through the motions well enough, it didn't change your perpetual silence. Sae eventually told Rin to give up on the lessons; it snowballed into an argument that only ended when Sae pointed out that the faces that Rin made during games spooked you.

Then there were the ice pops. It was a natural extension of soccer, since he and Rin always grabbed some after practice. They had you join them, and for nearly three weeks in a row, you kept getting those elusive winning popsicle sticks. Rin and Sae both cheered each time you did—yes, even though Sae, himself, was losing—but you'd only returned their excitement with an uncertain look.

But once, when Rin commented on how jealous he was of all your free ice creams, you gave him both your popsicle stick and a shy little smile. Rin didn't even understand, at first, what you were trying to do—but then you pushed it into his hand, a wooden little stick with WINNER written at the end. All your good luck going to the palm of your brother's hand, along with the first smile they'd ever seen from you.

It sent Rin over the moon.

Sae never told him this, but Rin was a little unbearable about it. He kept on beaming about it and wouldn't stop showing Sae that dumb popsicle stick for days, and he ended up hanging onto it instead of trading it in for ice cream. Sae knows that he's kept it to this day: on the desk of his childhood bedroom, next to all his MUJI pens. Your very first gift to him—to either of them—and his little brother's good luck charm.

Rin seemed happy with you then, willing to let things go as long as you kept smiling. But it wasn't enough for Sae.

He needed you to talk.

IT FINALLY HAPPENED DURING PRINCESS MONONOKE.

Rin—the little weirdo—routinely asked to watch that film every once in a while because it was his favourite. Why he was so obsessed with the scariest Studio Ghibli movie to ever exist, Sae would never know. But he humoured Rin nevertheless, and he also humoured Rin's request for you to join one of their rewatches.

Obviously, you ended up shaking and terrified, trembling in your seat and watching the film through your fingers. Rin didn't notice, but Sae did.

"Do you want to stop the movie?" he asked.

Your eyes went even wider, as if Sae scared you more than the film did, but you shook your head anyway. He squinted at you.

"You're sure? I won't mind stopping."

You glanced at his brother, who was too deeply engrossed in an absolutely revolting scene of a demon to notice any of this, and Sae immediately understood your concern.

"Don't mind Rin. He's seen this a million times."

But you shook your head again, and Sae relented. He unfurled a quilt that typically lived on the couch and laid it out over the both of you, then offered you a cotton edge. At your curious look, he explained, "It's kinda nice to have a blanket to hang onto when a movie gets too scary." Pause. "Plus it's cozy."

And Sae wanted you to be cozy.

You nodded. You burrowed fully into the blanket, nestled your face into the turquoise patterned fabric and studied Sae carefully. He pretended to focus on the movie, but he heard it when you finally talked for the first time, voice tiny and on the verge of breaking—

"Thank you."

THAT SIMPLE ACT OF GIVING YOU A QUILT CHANGED EVERYTHING. Sae hadn't known that a person could be so obsessed with a blanket, wrapping yourself into it at every opportunity. He even caught you going to bed with it, but he never commented on it, not wanting to scare you off. You'd been crying less at night lately, and he was sure it had something to do with that blanket.

You'd also been doing better during the day. Although you were still never comfortable around their parents, you were now noticeably more relaxed around Sae. Gravitated toward him, even. You always tried to sit next to him or stand near him, and you always did kind little favours for him too, the sorts of things he'd done for you: pouring him tea, putting food on his plate at dinner, taking the remote when it was offered to you and flipping to Chibi Marukochan.

Sometimes he made funny faces at you—the awkward, toothy expressions he'd usually make at Rin—and instead of being unnerved, you'd now actually laugh.

You had a wide grin, with an adorable gap where you'd lost your baby tooth. Delicate crinkles at the corners of your crescent eyes. Pretty gleam to your irises as you shone in the midday sun. Those moments where he caught glimpses of those things from you—Sae remembers being mesmerised by them, back when he was a kid. He's still mesmerised by it now, stares whenever your mouth curls up, all honeyed and bright.

Often, he caught you beaming as you sat next to Rin, watching his soccer matches. During those fleeting glances Sae snuck at you during halftime, he'd see you waving at him wholeheartedly. Sae wasn't a particularly expressive kid himself, but his lips always twitched up at the sight of you so happy.

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK?

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He didn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

THE SIGNS HAD ALL BEEN THERE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, and Sae’s often regretted not being old enough to see them until it was too late. He had just been a kid at the time, stupid and shortsighted and ignorant about the world beyond the touchlines of a football pitch. Even within the perimeters of his own childhood home, he struggled with making the right choices. Later on, it started to feel like if he made even one wrong move, the whole thing would fall apart—crumble like dry sand, or shatter like glazed porcelain.

Take, for instance, your habit of sleeping under the bed: something that Sae ended up catching you doing multiple times, whenever he visited at night. It bothered him deeply, but he was too young to know what to make of it, and too young to know what to do about it. When he asked you about it, you just did that thing where you apologised and curled up into yourself, so Sae quickly abandoned the notion of talking through it with you.

So he turned to his mother instead, and she wrote it off as a fun little game you were probably playing with yourself. Then he mentioned it to his father, who shrugged and said your mother—your real mother, Sae later figured out he meant—had never mentioned anything about it, so it likely wasn’t a problem. Sae was left to ponder it on his own, and he was so perplexed that even Rin intuited that something was off.

“Nii-chan,” he said one day, on their way home from practice, “is something the matter?”

"Huh?" Sae blinked, torn from his thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"You look upset." Sae's brows shot up; Rin had never before been so observant. "Is something bothering you?"

“...nothing you need to worry about,” Sae reassured Rin, but that only made his younger brother frown.

“Tell me! I wanna know.”

“It’s boring stuff,” Sae waved off, but that only made Rin grab his arm and start shaking it like a ragdoll.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Nii-chan! Tell meeee.”

Sae tried not to groan. More to appease Rin than anything else, he said, “I’m just worried about our little sister. She does this weird thing where she sleeps under her bed instead of on it… and I dunno why.”

Rin blinked at him, seeming unbothered. “I don't think that's that weird. Maybe she's playing with a friend, or something.”

Sae hummed. Rin had, in fact, gone through a phase where he watched all of Sae’s football matches with an imaginary friend that sounded more or less identical to No-Face from Spirited Away. (Why a five year-old would envision such a terrifying imaginary friend, Sae would never understand.) It wasn’t a crazy idea that you might have your own No-Face hiding beneath your bed, but thinking about all your crying at night, Sae had a hard time believing you were there because of any kind of imaginary games.

“I don’t think she does,” Sae decided. “She never seems like she's having any fun.”

“Huh. Then maybe she’s hiding from something?”

Sae squinted at his little brother. “What would she be hiding from?”

“Tons of things. Ghosts, monsters…”

Sae hummed, considering. Rin had also gone through a phase where he genuinely thought their house was being visited at night by a funayuurei from Sagami Bay. In those days, he couldn't sleep unless he was in the same bed as Sae, and even then he'd spent most of his time trembling under the sheets rather than peacefully dreaming. It had taken a great number of late nights, broken curfews, and one stolen camcorder (which Sae still needed to sneak back into their father’s study) to show Rin that no such spirit existed.

Sae wondered if his little brother had forgotten all his efforts.

“Ghosts aren't real, remember?” he reminded him.

“I know they’re not real,” Rin said, “but maybe she doesn’t?”

You didn’t, the both of them would later find out. You still believed in ghosts, monsters, curses and the like. But believing in spirits was different from fearing them, and though you’d never tell Sae this, it wasn’t a ghost that had been haunting you for all those years.

RIN HADN'T BEEN ENTIRELY WRONG. It was fear that had been driving you under the bed. When Sae asked you about it—“Are you under there because you’re hiding from something?”—you finally admitted to it, nodding wordlessly as you crawled out into the open space before Sae. You didn’t say what you were hiding from, but he assumed you were the same as Rin: you must have been afraid of a vengeful spirit, maybe a ghost rising from the waters of Sagami Bay. Sae wouldn’t have blamed you. The ocean often made eerie noises at night, and even having grown up next to it, sometimes Sae would feel unsettled.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said gently. “Nothing here is gonna hurt you. I promise.”

You fiddled with the edges of your quilt, playing with a loose thread. Sae made a mental note to cut it later, before it started unravelling.

“I just feel better sleeping underneath the bed,” you said.

He frowned. “If it actually made you feel better,” Sae pondered, “then why are you always crying?”

You went quiet, brow sloping up and eyes dropping down. Sae didn't pressure you to speak more. Instead, he tried again: "Do you think there's something else that could actually make you feel better?"

Hesitation. A shy look. You seemed almost embarrassed, and that's how Sae knew that you had an idea.

"You can tell me," Sae prompted. He reached out for your hand—slowly, in case you wanted to pull away, but you let him cradle the warmth of your palm with his own—and said, "You can trust me. I promise."

"...I also used to hide under the bed in my old home," you started, voice halting.

Sae waited patiently.

"...I was always too scared to sleep on top. But my brother noticed, and he started letting me sleep with him." Your eyes grew soft, your mouth curving into a gentle slope. "Nii-chan was the best. He made me feel really safe. But then he…"

Threw me away, Sae knew you were thinking, so he didn't let you finish. He just said, "Then you can sleep with me."

A surprised little blink. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother…"

"I won't mind. Rin and I used to share a bed together, 'cause he was afraid of ghosts, so I'm used to it…" His grip tightened. "And anyway, I'm your new Nii-chan. I don't mind doing things that your brother used to do for you."

You smiled then, fragile but sure. Sae got that warmth in that chest again, and he felt he was doing the right thing that night, letting you climb into bed with him. You waved at Rin, who was lying in his own bed, watching the two of you curiously as you settled under the sheets together. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sae thought he should talk to Rin about what was going on, but right now he was focused on making sure you were comfortable. He didn't have time to make things clear for his little brother, not when he was occupied with you.

This arrangement wasn't a perfect fix—after the lights went out, he could feel you shaking like a scared little fawn—so he shifted toward you, hoping he could help.

"Hey," he whispered. "Are you still feeling scared?"

"...a little." You sounded ashamed. "I'm really sorry, Nii-chan."

"It's okay," he whispered. "Just remember I'll keep you safe. I won't let anything hurt you."

"...I know you won't," you said after a little bit, and then you added, "I trust you, Nii-chan. I promise. I just… gotta get used to sleeping like this, again."

Sleeping on top of your bed, Sae knows you mean. Sleeping without hiding.

"Is there anything else your stepbrother did to make you feel better?"

Another silence—shy again, hesitant. Sae thinks it had been a sign of trust when you said, "He used to hold me. And he held my hand. But"—you sounded frantic, now, like you were scared you'd made a mistake—"you don't have to if you don't wanna, Nii-chan. I don't wanna bother you, so—"

"I won't mind." He inched closer to you. "Not if it'll make you feel safer."

Holding Rin isn't something he'd ever done, so it didn't come naturally to him, doing it with you. But he let his arms cradle your warmth, let you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, let your breath sweep over his racing jugular. Let you cling to him, the way you clung to your quilt during all those nights beneath the bed. Let himself shield you from whatever ghosts you'd been seeing—let him be your thing to hold onto while scared.

It was the right thing to do at the time: Sae had been sure of it. The easy rhythm of your sleeping breath told him so, as did the honest trust in your eyes every night—the kind of trust that a little kid could only give their brother. The kind of trust not unlike the blind faith that Rin would later have in their dream. The kind of trust that Sae had in his mother, who was always kind and loving even if she sometimes seemed a little shattered.

The kind of trust that Sae wanted, even at that young age, to honour.

It was the right thing for him to do, to hold you like that and keep you safe.

It was the right thing for you to do, to trust him so dearly.

He doesn't know when all the right things started bleeding wrong.

YOU ACTUALLY LATER FOUND, IN YOUR TEENAGE YEARS, THE NOTION OF HAUNTINGS A LITTLE FUNNY. You told Rin that you'd been desensitised to it from all the horror movies he'd made you watch; you could only see so many variations of Noroi and The Exorcist before getting bored. Even The Shining was losing its charm. But the slasher films never got old for you: you had endless patience for home invasions, serial killers, psychological stuff. They were more real, you said. People were tangible. Ghosts were not.

Once, on a visit from Spain, Sae had joined the two of you for a movie. Despite your disinterest in it, you still clung onto Sae the way you always had as a child. Your hold on him felt different now that you were grown—sly and silky, bare legs thrown across his lap and body pressed into his side, head on his shoulder. Every shift of your thighs over his lap felt precise, intentional: designed to distract Sae from the screen. You whined at him to hold you and when he asked why, you gave him a watery look and said you were scared.

You weren't even looking at the TV.

"You said you found ghost movies stupid," he said, in the sort of voice that clearly implied you're bullshitting me. You drew closer to him anyway, your arms looping around his neck. The cool mint of your breath swept over his lips as you laughed, and he was keenly aware of the thin space separating your mouth from his.

"Did I say that?" Your lashes fluttered. "I think you're misremembering. I'm terrified."

"Are you, now."

"Of course. Would I lie about something like that?"

Absolutely, Sae stopped himself from saying.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep alone later, Nii-chan. I might get nightmares." You tilted your head, gave him a pleading look. "You won't mind if I sleep with you tonight, right?"

"You already sleep with me every night," Sae pointed out flatly. You'd retained the habit from when you were a child, and he didn't know how to stop indulging you. "I should start kicking you out."

"If you're getting tired of me," you said, "I could always go sleep with Rin-chan instead."

Sae imagined it for a moment: you curling up in Rin's bed the way you'd been doing beneath Sae's sheets since childhood, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties—lacy, sheer, and colourful, Sae knew from the number of times you'd carelessly thrown your laundry into his basket. Bare legs tangled up with his, feathery breath on his cheek, strawberry fragrance in your hair. Seeking out his hand in your sleep, or settling into his arms, pressing your back against his chest and your waist against his hips. Baring your neck to him too, its slope pretty and delicate.

Once Sae pointed out that you shouldn't sleep in such compromising positions with other people; they might get the wrong idea. You'd tilted your head and asked what sort of ideas he was getting, and Sae had violently recoiled.

None, obviously. I'm your brother.

Okay, then, you'd said, settling into bed. You undid your bra beneath his t-shirt, took it off and threw it to the side; he tried his hardest not to look at it. Since you're my brother, there's nothing for me to worry about. Pretty eyes, innocent smile. You wouldn't do anything bad to me, right? I can trust you.

Maybe you'd offer that blind trust to Rin, too. And why wouldn't you? Rin was also your brother. He wouldn't ever think of doing anything to you, just like how Sae never would. You could safely sleep next to Rin, let him put his hands all over your silhouette, press all your curves into him—give him full access to your sleeping, vulnerable body, and…

Sae felt like he was going to throw up.

"No chance in hell you're sleeping with me," Rin shot down before Sae could, and Sae released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"What?" you exclaimed at Rin, feigning hurt. "Why?"

"Because you're way too clingy in your sleep and you're a blanket hog," he groused. "Now be quiet or get a room. We're getting to the good part."

Sae's gaze snapped to Rin. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

Rin gave him a funny look. "Because I've watched this movie before…?"

"No—I mean, how do you know that she's clingy when she's asleep?"

"Oh. Because of that time you went to football camp when we were kids. She got scared by herself at night, so she slept with me, and it was"—Rin shot you a disgruntled look—"the worst sleep of my life. Thought you were gonna suffocate me."

"You loved it," you shot back. "You were just as cuddly as me."

"What?" Rin sounded defensive. "No I wasn't."

"Yes you were," you practically sang, mouth curling. "It surprised me a lot—that's why I still remember it. You were very touchy with me, Rin-chan."

"I was trying to get my blanket back from you, dumbass." Rin rolled his eyes, then turned back to the screen, where Sadako had made it halfway out of her TV before Rin had pressed pause to argue with you. "Anyway, like I said. Be quiet or get a room."

Rin returned to the movie, and even you did—placing your head on Sae's shoulder, a haunting playing out before your eyes. But Sae couldn't focus, could only look at the pale glow of the TV on you, shining white in your irises.

Get a room, he kept thinking. Get a room.

Get a room for what?

The question brought up that swell of nausea in Sae's belly again, that urge to lie about the strawberry-sweetness of you. That violent repulsion when you'd given him with your big, innocent eyes, asking, What ideas have you been getting, Nii-chan? That oppressive heat that crept through his body every time he saw your colourful lace in his dirty laundry, or damp between your thighs whenever you bent over to turn off the lights.

That feeling of wrongness that was somehow born from all his attempts to do the right thing.

When you settled into his arms later that night and pressed a chaste little kiss to his jaw, his pulse raced, flooding heat into his veins. He looked at you, and he saw bare skin and pretty lashes and long legs wrapped up in his own. He looked at you, and he saw a fragile little thing on his doorstep, too scared to say a word to anyone, too frightened to sleep on her own.

He looked at you, and something in his chest split like porcelain.

Sae wonders, now, when he'd become the very thing that's been haunting you your whole life.

YOU WERE JUST A CHILD WHEN YOU KISSED SAE FOR THE FIRST TIME. Seven years old and tender in the dark, seeking comfort in his arms. Sae had just shaken you awake from a nightmare, held you close and told you that you were alright: you were here, you were in bed with your big brother, and ghosts weren't real so you didn't have to be scared—but even if they were, Sae would protect you from them.

It worked, but poorly. You stopped crying and quieted down, but then started clinging onto him, shivering and desperate.

Sae wasn't sure about how to handle this. Rin had never gotten like this before, not even while he was having his worst dreams about his funayuurei. But then he remembered how often you said you liked it when your stepbrother held you, so Sae did that for you: put his arms around you and let you cry. It felt easy doing it, instinctive. Something an older brother would naturally do for his little sister.

When you leaned back, thoroughly cried out, Sae cupped your face with your hands and started wiping away your tears with his thumbs: another thing your stepbrother once did for you. Another thing that came naturally to him.

He asked, "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Sae was ready to steal his father's camcorder back, spend more nights building pillow forts and hunting for ghosts. Or ready to grab your turquoise blanket and wrap it around your shaking body. Or ready to break into the kitchen and get you a midnight snack.

When you gave him a little nod, Sae expected any and all of those things.

He did not expect you to kiss him.

His mind went blank when he felt the shy press of your lips against his own. He wondered, for a moment, if he was dreaming, but you felt so real. So tangible.

  You waited patiently after you drew back, watching him carefully in a darkness thinned only by the fluorescence of plastic stars. His mother had put them on the ceiling for you and Rin, gotten a ladder so Sae could help too. He'd been the one to suggest that you and Rin be the ones to turn off the lights, each putting an index finger on the switch and flipping the room into darkness together. Wow! you'd both gasped, and your faces shone in the glow of those artificial stars.

It was the first time Sae's mother had seen you so full of joy. I didn't know that child could smile like that, she'd remarked quietly to Sae, watching you and Rin count the stars together. I was worried she'd never open up. But you've been so good to her, Sae. She's always happy around you.

Right now, your face was just as bright as it had been back then—and all Sae could think about was how he wanted to keep you glowing like that under his stars.

But something about that kiss unsettled him. It didn't feel wrong, exactly, but something that should be hidden—done in secret, made the subject of a lie.

And Sae didn't like lying.

As if sensing his hesitation, you gave him a guarded look, edging hurt. "You didn't like that?" you asked.

"No, I did," he said quickly. Instinctively. And then he remembered himself and added, "It's just… we shouldn't be kissing."

You tilted your head. "No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Sae stopped. Why not, he wondered as well. If you asked Sae nowadays—twenty-four, a proper adult—he could give you a laundry list of reasons, each one more damning than the last. But Sae back then—nine years old, a stupid kid—was at a loss.

"I… Well, it'd just be wrong."

"Wrong, how?" you asked, and now your voice was thick with anxiety and Sae needed desperately to ease it.

"Well… it's just not something siblings do, y'know? I wouldn't kiss Rin."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sae cringed. The thought of kissing Rin made him want to gag, and he knew he'd probably puke if he actually ever tried it. But you still kept staring, uncertain.

"Well," you said, "I guess I wouldn't kiss Rin either. But that's because I don't like Rin…" You gave him a little smile. "You're the one I want to kiss. Because I like you."

Sae's pulse fluttered. Pounded strangely in his ears, flooded his face with heat. He swallowed thickly as his mind played out your suggestion: closed eyes, your hand in his, the peck of your lips again—this time returned. A proper kiss, like the kind in movies. Oddly enough, the image didn't nauseate him at all, and Sae wondered if you were right: maybe his disgust at the thought of kissing Rin was only because he didn't like him.

Maybe Sae liked you.

But even though he wouldn't mind kissing you, something about the idea unsettled him. Family members just didn't kiss each other on the mouths—and even if he didn't know why, he knew it probably shouldn't happen.

In the absence of a concrete reason, Sae found himself unable to reply. It was especially hard to grasp at words when you were looking at him that way: so earnest, so shy, so pretty. Yes, you were pretty, Sae finally admitted—you were pretty behind chain link fences as you watched his matches, pretty in the sunset glow as the two of you walked home from practice, pretty even when you were a fragile little thing on his doorstep, with nothing but a stuffed toy and a satchel full of clothes.

You were pretty and sweet and kind, and Sae might have liked you, and he didn't know why he shouldn't.

In the end, all he could say was, "I think we'd get in trouble for it. And we're too young for that kind of thing, anyway."

You deflated, your brow crinkling as you looked away. "Oh. Sorry." Quietly, you added, "You're right. We would get in trouble."

"Yeah." Sae softened his voice a bit, already knew what to say: "But I'm not mad at you. You know that, right?"

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling—and he hated that, couldn't stand to see it, thought it was like seeing a dandelion being crushed—but you gave him a little nod. He drew up the blankets over your shoulders and tucked you in, hoping it'd calm you.

"Let's just forget about this," he said, and you hummed in agreement.

Still, as Sae watched you press yourself to him and close your eyes, you murmured, "But I really do love you, Nii-chan. I just wanted to show you how much. 'cause you asked me what would make me feel better. Showing you would have."

Sae felt something in him twinge at the new word—love, you'd said, a funny thing to hear outside of a Ghibli movie—but you were fading now, voice soft like cotton candy. He thought you were actually sleep-talking and dreaming things up, maybe thinking of that film that Rin loved so much. That part where the cursed prince talked about loving that feral, orphaned girl, and the savage wolf god had laughed at him.

He wishes now that he could rewind time, shake you awake and say so many things to you. He'd have crushed you, left you joyless for a little bit, but it'd have been for your own good. You don't need to show someone that you love them by doing something like that, he could have said. Or—Siblings don't show each other love by kissing on the mouth. Or—You only want to do this because you don't know any better.

Or, most importantly—You shouldn't feel this kind of love for me.

But instead, all Sae did was tighten his hold on you and whisper, "It's okay."

END EXCERPT

note on the title: "funayuurei" are the vengeful ghosts of people who died in shipwrecks, drowning at sea. many funayuurei myths involve these malevolent spirits coming across other vessels at sea and trying to sink them, thus condemning the living to sharing their fate. rin's childhood fear of a funayuurei that emerges from sagami bay to visit their home does not have any basis in real-life folklore; it is just a child's nightmare that I invented for this fic.

SPOILER ALERT (tw suicide mention) but rin's fear of funayuurei and the motif of drowning/water/typhoons/etc. is extremely significant to the universe of desire path. that's why they feature heavily in both versions of the fic. the reader's biological mother actually drowned herself in sagami bay, which is something that the reader discovers in her teenage years. in both versions of the story, she never really recovers from it.

thanks for reading!

[rayveneyed]

cw; suggestive / softcore smut, alcohol consumption (possibly dubcon), inappropriate workplace relationships, cisfem!reader

nanami kento is too old for fucking.

he tells you this at 1 am — in not quite as many words — a few too many somaeks in, lethargic and slow from the length of the workday. there’s enough alcohol in his system to have him silk-loose and soft, cursing more freely and allowing vulgarity (or what he considers vulgarity) to grace his ever-so-polite tongue.

you’ve never heard him like this before; you’ve never heard your straight laced coworker utter anything more than a family-friendly expletive (drat being a recurring character — old-fashioned, but endearing). but his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and his hair is mussed, and the blush of intoxication is rising to his sharp cheekbones — and yes, he curses. it almost sounds elegant when he does it. rolling over his tongue in his poorly-lit living room, where he’d only bothered to turn one lamp on; gathering with his voice like balls of cotton wool deep in his chest.

you yourself have had one too many drinks — that is why you find warmth pooling in your stomach at the sound of his confession, at the sight of his face illuminated in honey-soft light. after all, you’d never let the barrier of strained, charged professionalism drop otherwise. you’d never accept kento’s sudden invite for a nightcap after a night already filled with drinking, surrounded by tipsy coworkers at a local izakaya; you’d never let him help you slip your heels off, deft fingers unbuckling the strap from your ankle and lingering just long enough for you to notice. you’d surely never sit so close to him on his fancy 1.5 million yen couch — and you’d never, ever entertain the comment he’d made, one that he never intended for you to hear in the first place.

“what was that?” you say, coy, as if the comment hadn’t twisted something horrid in your gut. (as if you weren’t imagining him flushed from top to bottom, panting against your neck. it’s the alcohol, you’re sure of it.) “you’re too old for all that crazy stuff? like what?”

his adam’s apple bobs. he’s sitting slumped low next to you, his head hanging backwards against the back of the couch and his gaze somewhere on the high ceilings above your head, like he can’t face you. pretty. handsome. “sorry. i was just thinking out loud.”

“i know.” you take a sip of your own somaek. “but we’re both adults here, right? i mean, i agree. i’m not as flexible as i was at 20.”

his laugh is more of a surprised huff — like he’s just as surprised as you are that your conversation has steered into such uncharted territory. perhaps he’s surprised that he’s even responding to it — but he does, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. his thigh presses against yours through those infernal khaki slacks. “mm. me neither.”

you shoot him a cheeky grin. “you were getting folded like a pretzel, i presume?”

another laugh, tinged with incredulity this time. “mm. something like that.”

you both sit in silence for a moment. his apartment really is lovely — the kind of apartment you only get when you’re as diligent as nanami, putting aside money for years and steadily working his way up the hierarchal corporate ladder. high ceilings and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite his couch; a kitchen with a granite island; fancy furniture straight from an interior designer’s wet dream. it’s all neutral greys and browns, cozy and elegant and refined, and suddenly you wonder what his bedroom looks like. you take another sip of your drink.

“getting older’s not all that bad,” you say, almost offhandedly, speaking more to the tokyo skyline than your drinking companion. (you bet he has a double-king with fancy 500-count cotton bedsheets. probably some trinkets. man stuff like shavers and cuff links and aftershave.) “i like it slow anyways.”

a strange, choked sound leaves your drinking partner, and your eyes shoot over to him. you’re suddenly mortified at your careless blabbering — but drunk enough for your embarrassment to be eclipsed by a prideful ignorance. “huh? nanami-san, are you okay?”

he stares up at the ceiling once more. his throat bobs again. a slight blush has dusted the tops of his ears — but before you can linger in it, his eyes suddenly flicker to meet yours. you’re almost taken aback by it — the intensity with which his brown eyes suddenly bore into you, the sullenness and modesty from before pushed aside for something newer. something rawer. “…forgive me for my forwardness—”

“you’re forgiven.”

“—but, i…”

you swallow. he still hasn’t looked away. your breathing has stilted, stagnant and pressing, in your lungs. you fight the urge to press against the point where his thigh meets your own, already on the verge of squirming under his heady stare. “but…?”

straight-laced nanami kento breathes deeply, his chest moving with the force of it, and as his breath shudders out of him, he bites out: “i really want you, right now.”

your heartbeat rushes in your ears.

“but we’re coworkers,” kento continues, like he’s been sitting on it for a while — like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. his hand — the one not clutching his glass, the one laying on top of his thigh, flexes. “it’s unprofessional — completely inappropriate. i should be written up for simply confessing this to you.”

“but we—” you swallow around a dry throat — all moisture in your body seemingly gathering between your legs, hot and thrumming and nowhere to go— “we’re not working right now.”

a beat of silence.

kento finally looks away from you, and you can breathe again. you grapple with the sudden influx of air in your lungs, the anxiety of misstepping broiling in the pit of your stomach. while you internally struggle with yourself, nanami sets his somaek on the coffee table, before slumping back again.

“i suppose we’re not.”

unsurprisingly, kento does not make the first move. he just sits there, one arm behind his head and the other laying limp at his side, his chin tilted towards the sky and his eyes shut as if to sleep. it’s not in a way that might be construed as arrogance — this isn’t your high school boyfriend sitting back and waiting for you to pull down his pants — it’s pure and utter indulgence. climb over him if you want. kiss him when you want. cross the imaginary line drawn in the sand when it suits you — regardless, he won’t ever touch unless you explicitly make it clear that you want him to. desire curdles in your stomach, almost painful, and it's all you can do to scrabble onto your knees beside him.

before your anxiety takes control of your faculties — before you allow your cowardice to seize your limbs — you swing a knee to the other side of his hips. you're straddling him, close enough that you're sure you're sharing the same air, and — fuck, he's much bigger than you'd anticipated. he doesn't have the wiry, lean stature of the average salaryman — somehow, between sleeping overnight in the office and drinking at izakayas almost nightly, kento's frame is sturdy and large, muscular. like he works out often. you don't know how he does it with the long hours he puts in, but your thighs almost ache with the stretch of his hips between them — and pressed right against you, right where you're sensitive and aching and perhaps a little too needy, is his clothed cock. the slacks do little to camouflage the shape or hardness of it — in fact, you swear you feel it twitch when you seat yourself against it.

kento's eyes flutter open. his cheekbones are slowly reddening, his glasses hooked low on his nose bridge. his arms twitch where they lay, like he was about to move to hold you and thought better of it. you wish he didn't think better of it. "hi."

you give a little smile, hopefully looking less like you're brimming with excitable energy than you actually are. his lips really are quite close to yours. if you just leaned forward... "hi."

they're not chapped, his lips, but not shining with lip balm. they're soft looking and slightly pink, naturally down-turned in a way that makes him seem grumpy most of the time. but they're quirked up in a little smile, now, and all you can think about is how they might feel against yours. your lip gloss has long since rubbed off, between drinking and eating and drinking again, but would the remnants of glitter smear against his lips? would he come away tasting cherries?

kento clears his throat.

"i have to be honest with you," he says. he adjusts his glasses smartly, the way he does at the office, the way that has all the your female coworkers swooning. "i'm… passed the age of doing things no strings attached — that is to say, if—”

heart suddenly swooping in your chest — delighted at being indulged, of having your affections returned — and brain whizzing along like a child who's had too much sugar, you connect your lips with little fanfare. you're perhaps too enthusiastic — prodding his mouth with your tongue as soon as he'll let you, leaning forward until your chests press together and you can almost feel his heart beating through his skin. his lips are soft, after all. soft but weathered, moving so pleasantly against yours — and then his hands squeeze at the plushness of your hips, his teeth take your bottom lip between them, and—

you're panting when you pull away. panting and flushed and hot all over, barely an inch between you for fear of distance. you’re hot where you’re connected, so filled with nervous, excitable energy you think you might wither; nanami’s grasp on you, steel-tight and warm, does little to help. it’s all you can do to give yourself a second to recuperate, chest heaving — and nanami seems just as bad off. the usually well-kept salaryman looks a mess underneath you, with his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing uneven — even then, though, his eyes are far too intense for you to calm any.

“to be honest,” you say, "i’m — i’m a little too old for that, too, kento."

another small smile. the gap between you is filled once more. you both call in sick that morning.

[loversmantra]

FREE FALLIN' LOVE ADDICT!

synopsis. satoru's fingers look their best soaking wet.

content. gojo satoru x cisfem!reader. smut. minors do not interact. lowkey... househusband satoru and his working wife. making out. fingering. cum eating. drooling. size difference. not explicitly stated but this definitely reads as sub!satoru. foul language. "gojo satoru has the biggest praise kink in existence," i say from the top of my hill. he's kinda pathetic in this tbh but so am i so it's fine.

title from poplar st by glass animals

wc. 2.3k

message from noe. this started as something very different, very wholesome... then it became this. i was fighting demons. sorry. also this is lowkey my first time doing smut be nice to me pls. anyways @neptuneblue dis one is for you twiiin

satoru’s hands are much bigger than yours.

you’ve known this for a long time, of course. as a teen, he never missed an opportunity to remind you you were smaller than him: whether that be by holding something out of your reach or using that creature of an appendage to cover your entire face and muffle your complaints.

he didn’t outgrow his antics. his hands did, however, get even bigger.

but it’s one thing to know, to have the theoretic knowledge of it in the back of your mind. it’s another to have indisputable proof of it: his huge hand wrapped around your own, both warming it and dwarfing it.

satoru’s had his hands on you since the day you first met. rough, teasing — and later loving. soft. and you’re thinking about them a lot these days. you’re thinking of his hands everywhere.

his longs fingers wrapped around your throat. snug around your waist, tight on your hips. deep inside you. you’re thinking about it, a lot.

the wonderful contrast of cherry red flush on his cheeks, down his neck, down his heaving chest. the heat of his breath on your lips, crazed, feverish, delirious. wide smile, all teeth, as he puts his fingers on his tongue and sucks. baby blues rolling back, away from the conscious world and into something he keeps on a tight, tight leash. he’s so beautiful when he gets like this. you want him.

you’re thinking about it so much, these days. you’re thinking about him.

you’re thinking today might be the boiling point.

you’re thinking satoru looks way too good in this outfit… and his hand is just so much bigger than yours.

your workday ended with a text from your beloved, urging you to hurry home, because he had a lil’ surprise for you. knowing satoru, you were fully expecting to find him laying on the bed naked and oiled up, but the sight you were greeted with when you arrived home was very different — though no less delectable.

the "surprise" itself: satoru in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you. he turned to face you when the door closed softly.

and while this might seem strange to anyone — anyone except you — when paired with his text telling you to hurry, you knew exactly where his intentions lied. you’ve been experiencing him long enough.

he wanted to seduce you. and fuck him, it worked.

not like you needed much help there: you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones, among other things, twenty-four seven, for days. you’re wrapped around his finger. head over heels. thoroughly whipped.

but to be fair, who could blame you?

briefly, you pondered. how wonderful it is, you thought, to have this man taking care you after a long day. how wonderful it is, to be loved by such a cosmic being. to come home and find the house clean. to come home and smell dinner cooking.

you pondered — but not for long. something else drew your attention away from his loving acts of service.

black slacks stretched around his toned legs, glorious ass on full display — you could have bitten him right there. his pristine white shirt was tight on his torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he expertly chopped vegetables. his sleeves — struggling to keep his biceps in check, it almost seemed — were rolled up to his elbows. displaying his hands and forearms perfectly. damn him.

to top it all off: an apron tight around his slim waist. picture perfect househusband.

he looked good. good enough to eat.

and you could tell he thought the same of you in your tailored suit. you saw his eyes darken from all the way across the room.

this was all part of his plan, of course.

he smiled. washed his hands, didn’t wipe away the droplets. he raked his eyes all over you, dark, wanting.

“hi, baby,” he purred.

you took off your shoes hastily, hurried to his side, pushed him against the counter and pushed your lips against his…

…to end up here, dress shirt wide open, tongue down his throat, arms pinned to the kitchen island by his large, large hands. his poor apron forgotten across the room.

there isn’t an inch of free space between the two of you — satoru simply refuses to let you drift away. you can feel his impatience all over him, little whines escaping his lips that you drink eagerly, narrow hips pressed to the furniture as if to give himself relief. you won’t have it, you refuse. his relief will be you or nothing.

“how was your day, satoru?” you smile against him.

he returns it, body shivering at his name falling from your lips. his hot mouth trails down to your shoulder, to leave no part of you untouched, untasted. “missed you,” he whispers with a push of his hips against you.

“hm, is that it?”

a hand leaves yours to flatten on your belly — he pushes you down easily and takes his rightful place, right on top of you. white hair tickles your skin as he makes his way back up until… “yeah,” he grins, eyes so dark you can barely breathe. his smile is all teeth. “that’s it.”

without your permission your thighs move to rub against one another. it doesn’t escape him. you try to turn your head away, to flee from his teasing. he follows. he always does.

“look at me, pretty,” he bites into your neck. “you want something from me?”

you do — you want his fingers knuckles deep inside you. and the absolute best part is, you know how bad he wants it, too, to see you come undone with his touch. you see it, you feel it in his every move. the need.

you feel it in the tight grip his hand has on your own, on your waist to keep you pressed against the marble. in the very, very slight tremor of his thighs close to yours, kept tightly under his control. in the tensing, untensing of his every muscle — restraint he’s giving his all to maintain. in the glorious pink of his cheeks, the sweat already accumulating on his flawless skin. he wants it. he wants you to ask for it.

but your satoru’s been quite spoiled lately. he’s gotten used to getting his way every time, little prince. it wouldn’t hurt him to work for it. you want to make him work for it.

you don’t answer him. instead, you keep him busy with your tongue tracing his lips, one hand trailing your nails down the soft hair of his undercut — earning you another full body shiver — while with the other you unbuckle your belt on your own.

it’s easy, after that, to shove your hand under your panties. satoru pushes himself off you, to better watch.

you make a show of it, just for him. making sure to really coat your fingers with your slick. two tight circles on your clit aren’t enough to relieve the pressure, but you trust him to come around and take care of it — he’s so good at taking care of you. you throw your head back with a soft whine, arch yourself into him, and in the hot air you share with him your hand comes back up, fingers glistening.

he looks jealous. already, he’s moving — moving to take your hand in his and taste — but you won’t have it. before he can do anything about it, you pop your fingers into your mouth, sucking yourself off them.

satoru’s eyebrows knit briefly, but his smile widens. his breaths are reduced to pathetic, shallow pants. if you push him a little more, will you get him drooling, tongue hanging out like a puppy? you bet you could. but today isn’t the day to find out. you want his fucking fingers.

he doesn’t let you think about it any longer. “can i?” he rasps, leaning down. his tongue runs over his teeth.

you don’t think about it. you nod your head, and he dives.

licking into your mouth desperately, moaning like he's having the time of his life. it’s so easy to meet him halfway, to suck his tongue in your mouth, to swallow all his little whimpers — so good, baby, fuck — you want it all, so you take it all.

he only stops to rest against your mouth and whine, “you taste so good, i wish you could eat yourself out.”

he catches you completely off guard. you have no answer to that, so brilliantly, you say, “huh?”

he noses at your cheek and explains, “i want to eat your cum straight from your mouth.”

and that’s enough of that — you’ve run out of patience. you think you’ve wrecked him enough, in any case, to hear such things spewing out of his mouth. you feel him throbbing. you are, too.

“can’t have that, angel,” you pant against him. “but you can make me cum.”

you can feel his smile. “i thought you’d never ask.”

his fingers slide down your body, under your pants, taking the same route yours did. only it’s much harder for him — they’re much bigger.

satoru wastes no time. the stretch is immediate, big finger pushing into you slowly. your hand knitted in his hair tugs him down to you. his moan is even louder than yours.

he stays there for a moment, savoring it, licking at your lips, your neck, the underside of your jaw — moaning like an animal in heat, like he could cry from the relief your hot walls hugging his fingers bring.

cherry red on his cheeks, down his neck and the glimpse of his heaving chest his shirt gives you. hot pants fanning your lips. crazed. feverish. delirious. wide smile, canines glimmering in the light. oh, you’ve been waiting for this. you want more of him, you need more of him. your hands move against your will, almost tearing open his clothing. a huff of laughter warms your cheek.

but your love is as impatient as you.

a second finger pumps into you, slow and steady. you mewl, and with your encouragement satoru rises on his elbow to increase the pace.

“feel good, sweetheart?” he pants.

you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried.

“yeah,” you smile. “i feel fucking good.”

then you sink your teeth straight into his neck and delight at the wild buck of his hips, the sinful cry he gifts you.

his entire body moves with him. his hips grind into you, shameless, desperate, following his hand’s movement — and so does his tongue, fucking into your mouth like he wants you everywhere, wants to be inside you everywhere, wants to bury himself into you. drool drops down his chin. you drink it.

every beautiful sound that comes from him, every whimper, every harsh breath, every high-pitched moan is rewarded with a soft murmur of yours — so good, angel, so good for me, so good! his pace increases, his bicep is bulging, his back tenses, his eyes cross, he’s so close, you’ve got him right where you want him.

the pressure in your lower belly grows stronger with every expert stroke. he touches everywhere, a tender caress pumped into you by the strengths of his arm and pelvis together. mimicked perfectly by his tongue tugging at your lips, stroking your own, invading your mouth. you feel it grow, grow, until—

you come undone right there on his hand, in your pants, with a loud cry of his name, digging his nails into his shoulders — in retaliation, and partly to stave of his own orgasm, you’re sure of it, his bites the soft flesh of your neck, a wail dying in the back of his throat.

you come down together, chests rising and falling against one another, hot breaths warming the air around you. he’s still throbbing against your thighs, fingers slowed to shallow thrusting, as if he couldn’t bear to let the moment end just yet. you force him to still by smothering his hand with your thighs.

satoru makes his way back to your lips, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses and a singular bite on your cheek, one you answer with a giggle.

“that was a good one, baby,” he says against your mouth. “how many more can i give you?”

“depends. how many more can you take?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he smiles. his hand resurfaces from your underwear, soaked, glistening. he takes a moment to rub his fingers together, admire the slick, the feel of it all over his skin. you take the time he gives you to admire him.

he’s so beautiful, when he gets like this.

his hand rises, heading for his face. your gut clenches, thighs rubbing together in anticipation, a deep breath filling your lungs—

his tongue lolls out and his soaked fingers come to take their rightful place right onto it. his lips close around his hand. his cheeks hollow as he sucks.

baby blues rolling to the back of his head, satoru trembles, wracked with a full body shudder and a moan so sinfully loud you swear it echoes against the walls. his throbbing cock rubs on your thigh.

he allows himself one, two, three finger-deep thrusts into his mouth, practically fucking himself, gagging on his own hand, putting on the most wonderful show for you. just to make sure there’s not a droplet left.

then his fingers leave his mouth with a loud pop! and he looks back down at you. crazed. feverish. delirious. eyes so dark you can barely breathe.

looking good enough to eat.

later on, after a lot more cum from both parties and a well-deserved bath, you rush into the kitchen, praying your apartment isn’t about to burn down. satoru was, after all, supposed to be making you dinner.

when you lean over the countertops, you find that the stove was never on.

LOVERSMANTRA © 2024, all rights reserved. do not translate, crosspost, or copy. steal my work and i'll steal your kneecaps. bitch.

[underskz]

➪ LET'S SEE WHO HURTS THE OTHER MORE

➪ seo changbin x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 3.2k (➪ cheater!choi yeonjun x same reader) — NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —

✰ NON-IDOL AU

pov: sick of your boyfriend's lies and infidelity, you've finally decided on your parting gift to both him and yourself...in the form of one of his best friends.

note: uhh i rlly can't explain myself on this one,, i've been listening to too many sad songs and my brain said write a cheating revenge plot fic and write it now >:) so here i am uhhh, going for it... sorry yeonjun ! (i'm not rlly that sorry lmao) also has anyone else noticed that i keep writing for 99s idols,,, even tho they’re not my biases… anywayz the title is from war by keshi lol

warnings: CHEATING like all around everyone's a cheater (except changbin but he's willingly sleeping w his bestie's gf so...), and isn't reader entitled to this 100% valid crash out ?? (i'm kidding...or am i???), toxic relationship, toxic behavior, unsafe sex (no condoms), spit (and a dream) as lube, bad language, slight manipulation from reader but changbin lets it happen lmao (might be a lil into it even), yeonjun is the worst in this….but it’s for the plot!!! i swear !!!!, open/ambiguous ending, excessive use of ellipses bc im dramatic :)

“I’m sorry.”

At least Changbin has the decency to look ashamed, the guilt of covering up for his friend’s transgressions clearly having eaten away at him. He keeps his head low, intent on pretending one of the cracks on the kitchen tiles requires all his attention. 

For a moment you consider throwing him out, screaming at him to never come back and to tell Yeonjun to fuck himself into the next century. 

There’s a part of you that wants to blame Changbin, because if he was gonna turn around and confess Yeonjun’s infidelity anyway, why didn’t he stop him? 

Instead you inhale slowly, exhaling as evenly as you possibly can and swallow down the venom building on the tip of your tongue.

“It’s okay, Bin.” And his head finally snaps up, shocked by your lack of surprise and borderline disinterest. Again you swallow back any scathing comments, a certain numbness swirls through your chest as a dull throbbing in the back of your skull threatens a headache.

“W-What?” He dares to meet your eyes for a second before pinning his gaze somewhere over your shoulder.

“I know, I mean I’ve known. And I know it wasn’t a one time thing.” You sigh, and a part of you wishes that your boyfriend hadn’t trapped his friends in his lies as well. 

“You knew Yeonjun was…” He clears his throat harshly.

“Cheating? Yeah, and I guess he hasn't really considered stopping, or at least being subtle about it. And after all those fights and promises to change..I don’t even know what I see in him.” It’s the truth, still unsure why you’ve bothered plodding along in this relationship after catching Yeonjun stepping out on you almost four months ago. 

You had found him in the alleyway of a club after he drunkenly called begging for you to come pick him up, only to see him wrapped up in a disgusting lip lock with some other woman with his hands shamelessly wandering. 

He hadn’t even apologized, just mumbled over and over again about how he was so drunk, how he thought it was you. At the time you chose to believe it, at the time you still loved him.

But now it’s different, now you’re left wondering how much more you can take, or why you can’t just end it.

Maybe it’s a fear of loneliness, or the pains of having to untangle your life from his after spending almost four years tying them together. Whatever it is, the strings have finally begun to fray, and the last remnants of that naive thought of him changing disappeared the moment Changbin stepped foot into your apartment with that kicked puppy look to him.

And now here you are, staring at your boyfriend’s proclaimed “ride or die”, in all honesty if you were to expect any of Yeonjun’s friends to fess up to the man’s wrongs for him, Changbin wouldn’t have been your first guess. He might be principled and righteous to a fault, but this is a man who would help Yeonjun hide a body no questions asked; morals be damned. 

You wonder what the tipping point was, wonder what Yeonjun could’ve done this time around that made Changbin force himself to make that choice. 

“How long?” You purse your lips, because even then you had doubted it was the first time, Yeonjun’s lies losing their efficacy somewhere between the third and fourth time you caught him fabricating his whereabouts— and who he was with.

“Um, well.” His eyes begin darting around once more. 

“The least you can do is be honest with me…he hasn’t been.” You cross your arms in a poor attempt of trying to brace yourself for whatever Changbin will say. Though your feelings for Yeonjun are practically nonexistent at this point, it wouldn’t make finding out more about his betrayal hurt any less.

“I think the first time was, ah well, it was…” You watch as he clenches and unclenches his fist, clearly conflicted, the morally righteous side barely able to push past his fierce loyalty to his friend. 

“Changbin, please.” You sigh, teeth digging into your bottom lip while making your eyes wide just so they’ll begin to water. If Changbin needs you to look like the heartbroken girlfriend to find his voice then so be it.

“Last year, when you were back visiting family…Wooyoung had this party and…”

His words seem to fade away, whisking through one ear and out the other. A year, an entire year of him lying to your face. You feel sick, used up and disgusted at the way you’ve been played like a damn fiddle. Like you’ve meant nothing to him and that all those years you spent in love with him— completely wasted.

Your knees start to buckle, a weak and nauseating feeling twisting in your stomach and Changbin in all his gentlemanly glory quickly catches you, dragging you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I should’ve said something earlier.” His voice cracks, as if he’s the one who’s so despicably wronged you, and you could laugh. It shouldn't be Changbin here with his arms around you, apologizing like his life depends on it. "I-Is there anything I can do?"

It's said so softly you almost don't catch it, and the thought that bursts into your head is so sudden —and rather devious— that it almost doesn't feel like yours. You decide to blame Yeonjun for whatever happens next.

Because there’s a lot that Changbin can do.

"Just...keep holding me." The words come out shakier than you expected, thankful for how tightly he’s holding you, keeping you from falling apart completely. You try to breath slowly, deep inhales and exhales that fill your senses with Changbin’s cologne, the warmth radiating off of him soothing your nerves.

"Yeah, uh, okay...yeah I can do that." He inhales sharply. "Do you wanna sit?"

"Sure." The affirmation coming out as a defeated sigh. And carefully, as if he knows you'll shatter at any moment— he guides you to the couch, letting you sit before settling beside you and slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You let your head fall back, resting upon a firm bicep as you try to make sense of the last few minutes. You consider your options, debating on just how far you’re willing to go in the name of revenge. 

It's not fair to drag Changbin further into this, not when Yeonjun has already done a fine job of testing his friend's moral compass— but at the same time the man has been complicit in these lies for a year, looking you in the eyes and laughing with you as if there was nothing amiss. Maybe Yeonjun wasn't the only one who needed to suffer consequences.

But if anything, in some twisted way, this could be a reward for Changbin’s honesty, a thank you and even a favor done for you as a proper apology.

So you inch closer, moving until you're practically seated in Changbin's lap while you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck, stilling as he stiffens in your hold. 

For a moment you wonder if you moved too fast. But not even a second later he relaxes, tightening the arm that's already around your shoulders and bringing up his other to run his hand comfortingly up and down your back. 

You let yourself melt into him, a tight coil in your chest starting to unravel. It's concerning how safe you feel, seated in the lap of your cheating boyfriend's best friend, maybe your sense of right and wrong and love and affection has been all screwed up courtesy of one Choi Yeonjun.

Yet you’re only allowed to revel in this moment for what feels like only a few minutes, too distracted by the warmth to even think of your next move, of how far you'll go.

Changbin starts to shift under you, his hands retracting and you can't help the needy whine that sounds in your throat. You could care less if it sounds desperate, you're vulnerable after all.

"Bin please, you said you'd hold me."

"I should go." His voice is hoarse, and you pull back just enough to see his eyes darting back between you and the door. "Didn't you say Yeonjun was coming by later?"

"I said he might." And Yeonjun said he would, but you doubted it, these days his promises fell through more often than not. "Who knows anymore, he's probably fucking some other bitch or looking for one." 

He frowns at that, and you're unsure if it's your harshness or disappointment over the fact you're most likely right.

"It's just that, I don't think...we should…I should go." He makes a weak attempt to push you off of him, stopping the moment you grab his wrists.

"But I don't want you to." Immediately releasing your hold on him, his hands hover, unsure of whether or not to drop them or to continue holding you.

"Yeonjun is, he's still my friend..." Changbin says carefully.

"And I'm not?" It's not like the two of you met because of Yeonjun, in fact you met Yeonjun through Changbin and a few other mutual friends back during university. But maybe that's what was making him so unsure, the social repercussions. The risk of everything falling apart as if Yeonjun didn’t create this. "I mean...I guess if you really wanna go Bin, I won't...force you to stay."

And slowly you let your eyes crawl up, peering through your lashes as you worry your bottom lip with your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. With a sharp inhale he follows the movement with his eyes, one of his hands thoughtlessly landing on your thigh. 

"We shouldn't." His fingers tighten for half a second, eyes darkening by a fraction. 

"Shouldn't what? We're not doing anything?" You lean in closer, and closer, until your lips are a measly inch away from each other. "Unless you think we should be?" 

He swears under his breath, your name following closely before he seals his lips against yours. And maybe a touch too desperately you scramble to rearrange yourself in his lap, moving until you're straddling his thick thighs and gripping onto his muscled shoulders.

"This is, it’s wrong?" There’s a strain in his words; but it’s barely a question, and one posed more for himself than you.

"You're comforting me, you're being a good friend and comforting me." You drag your lips across his jaw, trying not to grin as he tightly grips at your hips. "I'm hurting, make me feel better?"

"Are you sure?" You meet his gaze, the intention of not wanting to take advantage of your supposed vulnerable state clear in his eyes, because Changbin is (to some degree) a decent man.

"I need you." You keep your voice low, running your hands down his chest before dragging one up to run your fingers through his hair. "Please?"

You tilt your head, watching as he swallows down whatever reservations he has. He looks over you carefully, leaving you to try to not squirm under an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes.

"Fuck, okay yeah I've got you." His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, a gravelly tone overtaking his words. “I’ll make you feel better, the best.” 

And maybe he’s thought about it before, whether it was before you and Yeonjun started your (now regrettable) relationship, or if this was something he had been holding close, a secret that would’ve torn him and Yeonjun’s friendship apart– maybe it’s why he barely put up a fight. 

His lips are back on yours, still tentative and a little stiff but you didn’t mind, if anything your ministrations are a mirror image. Unlike some people, you’ve been loyal in your relationship and the nerves of kissing someone new after all this time was beginning to ricochet through your body, your heartbeat turning into a frantic staccato.

“Bin.” You rasp, not sure what you’re trying to say or maybe ask.

“I told you, I’ve got you.” He tugs off his hoodie then shirt before pulling off yours, goosebumps chasing after where his hands trail along your exposed skin. He manages to make quick work of your clothes, stopping you from helping in any way and allowing you to admire the way his muscles jump and move as he undresses you.

He keeps you in his lap, now stripped bare while he sits in his gray sweats with a less than conspicuous tent forming in them. You feel your mouth dry with anticipation, with nerves.

“Kiss me.” And he obeys, licking into your mouth eagerly, whatever hesitation held before long gone. It’s easy falling into Changbin’s ministrations, soothing in a way you can’t explain, and most of all, thrilling to be so craved. 

You press yourself against him, unable to stifle the shiver at the sensation of heated skin against heated skin, delighting in the way he kneads his calloused fingers up your thighs. Your mind races with anticipation, trying not to let the fact it’s been weeks, maybe closer to months since you’ve gotten any action.

Before you can even register it, he’s pushing you away, maneuvering you until your back is against his chest and your legs are forced to fall apart as they land on either side of his.

“Better this way.” He grunts, a hand coming up to cup at your breast while the other drags up your inner thigh. 

“Changbin.” You snake a hand back until you're gripping the back of his head, dragging him forward enough to catch his bottom lip with your teeth. “Hurry.”

Mercifully he wastes no time, bringing thick fingers up to your mouth and obediently your lips fall open. Pinning your gaze to his you make a show of flattening your tongue against his digits and dragging the muscle upwards oh so slowly. 

“Fucking, you-”

He interrupts himself, lips diving forward to meet yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth with reckless abandon. He swallows down each and every little moan and whine he draws out of you.

But with far more finesse his fingers press against your entrance, deftly circling and coaxing. At long last, he presses a single digit inside of you, slowly yet insistent; he’s surprisingly attentive, waiting for and listening to each demand of your body as he explores you so languidly.

“Faster, faster.” You’re not above begging, not here and definitely not now, bucking your hips to try and make him hear your pleas.

His other arm snakes around your waist, tightening just enough to keep you flush against him and barely able to move. 

“Let me take care of you.” He chases the words with a peck to your cheek and It’s startlingly nice, the words and affection almost unfamiliar. Maybe your relationship has long since fizzled out, unable to remember the last time someone had been this gentle and mindful during sex.

If you didn’t know better you’d think Changbin might be in love with you.

The thought melts away the moment he pushes two of his fingers into you, gasping at the sudden stretch but thankful for him picking up the pace.

You feel like putty in his hands, enjoying the tension in your shoulders being replaced by that telltale tension deep in your belly. Each drag of his fingers has you melting further into him, letting yourself be consumed as you sigh his name. 

Annoyingly he retracts his fingers, placating the whine in your throat with a quick kiss to your pulsepoint. He helps you shift in his lap, until you’re facing each other once more and you’re left trying not to melt under his fiery gaze.

Your eyes flutter down his chest, until you’re looking directly at the now blatant tent in his sweats. You bite back a groan.

“Oh.” You move to straddle him properly, adjusting so there’s just enough room between your bodies that you can hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and with a little assistance you manage to free his cock from the cotton confines.

You hook your nails into the meat of his shoulder, grinning when he winces as your other hand comes down to press his cock against your dripping cunt. 

“Shit, hold on, condom?” He looks a little sad to ask, likely annoyed by the extra step.

“No, m’clean I got tested…haven’t even, oh!” He nips at your throat. “…Haven’t let him touch me, you?”

“I’m good.” And you trust him, despite it all you don’t mind trusting Changbin. Besides, there’s plenty of things you’re regretting right now, what’s another for down the road? Though you highly doubt you’ll regret anything and everything Changbin could do to you.

“C’mon then pretty, ride me.” He brings his hands under the backs of your thighs, offering support but making no move to help you any further.

You tease your hole against the head of his cock, tongue caught between your teeth as you slowly begin to sink down. A stifling heat starts to curl through you, searing through your limbs and cutting across your face and building a sweat across your brow.

“Fuck! You’re so fuckin’ big, ah!” And maybe while Yeonjun beats Changbin out in length, he can’t begin to compare in girth.

The moment you’re fully seated on his cock you take a second to come to terms with the fact you're being split in two, the thickness unprecedented and dizzying and it takes every fiber of your being to not cum immediately. You squeeze your eyes shut, the hand settled on his shoulder tightening until your knuckles go white. 

Changbin takes this as an invitation to pepper kisses along your chest, letting his teeth graze along your shoulder and tongue dance across your throat. You find yourself relaxing under his attention, embarrassingly soothed in a few measly seconds by his lips against your skin. 

“Sexy.” He has the audacity to wink at you, and a weak chuckle escapes you as you wiggle your hips just enough to force a choked moan out of the both of you.

But it’s enough to have you brace yourself, not wanting to waste anymore time, hands coming down to grip at his solid forearms to bring yourself up an inch and sink back down. It sends a shock up your spine and you repeat the motion, again and again. 

You gather your energy, testing your leg strength today and properly starting to bounce on his cock, letting wanton moans and desperate whines fall freely from your lips.

“S’good, so damn good for me.” He grinds out. “You like fucking me more? Huh?”

You're hypnotized by the look in his eyes, always fascinated by the way that Changbin has always been candid with his emotions, how easy he can be to read when he puts down his shields. And now you have a front row view to a smoldering lust burning bright in those brown eyes, leaving you to wonder if it’s always been there. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You tug at his arms, silently begging for more, until his hands move to grip at your waist. “It’s better, better with y-you, Bin.”

“He’s so damn stupid, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby.” Ruthlessly he quickens the pace, forcing you towards the edge. Your vision starts to go a little fuzzy, that unmistakable tightness coiling in your belly becoming almost unbearable. 

“O-Oh fuck, Changbin!” Pleasure tears through you, a few borderline painful steps past mindblowing and you wonder if you passed out for a second. 

Faintly you hear the telltale click of the front door opening. 

[moistcl1tikal-ao3]

im gonna say this and im gonna stand by this,

life would be so much better if men could knot. like i want charlie LITERALLY balls deep inside me. PLEASE.

yeah. so yeah im. yeah

college roommate!charlie x cisfem reader. knotting and desperation ahead. omegaverse too. obviously

this is a part 1 because im getting pulled to do stuff I promise ill write the knotting later

The apartment was weirdly silent when you got back from class. Normally, since it was Thursday, your roommate was cooped up in his room streaming. You didn't really mind the idea of having a streamer roommate - at least, not one like Charlie. He was actually funny. Besides, free meals from TreatStream was a decent perk, all things considered. (Once you'd been convinced nobody would show up to your house from it other than literally the delivery drivers.)

But today, no laughter and bad puns were heard through the thin door of Charlie's room. The door was shut, but as soon as you stepped more than a few feet into your apartment the absolute smell of the place hit you.

Everything here absolutely stank of Charlie.

Your cheeks went red as the implications smacked you in the face. You didn't know your roommate.... well, they always said it was the goofy ones. With those arms and how boisterous he was, it actually made a lot of sense that he was an alpha. Strong.

Good to mate with.

Woah?

Something deep inside of you was already straining at your willpower. It wasn't like you were some freshly presented blushing omega, but holy shit, you needed to open a window.

Except... you'd always had a teeny tiny bit of a thing for your goofy, adorable, funny as hell and twice as hot roommate, and Charlie was... practically begging for it, right? He could have warned you. If he'd never been this bad before, clearly he wanted you to find out, right? Wanted you to have his scent coating the insides of your nose, worming down into your lungs and making your entire body warm.

You approached his room, toeing your shoes off, setting your backpack down and knocking on the door.

"Hey, Charlie, you okay in there?"

You heard a shuffling around, then the gangly form of Charlie appeared behind a crack in the door. The scent grew even stronger. You could see he'd just thrown his hoodie on, and there was no shirt underneath. His hair was a mess, his glasses weren't even on, and he was barely peeking around the edge of the door.

"Not feeling great, honestly-- kinda uhh," He sniffed to try and appear sick, but instead got a whiff of your own mild scent. You barely even had one, as far as you were aware, but with him like this... you probably smelled fucking delicious. "Kinda coming down with something--"

"Do you need any help?" The words tumbled out of your mouth without you meaning to, and your already hot face went even hotter. "I mean-- do you need anything, like can I--"

Charlie stared down at you, eyes flicking back to look at something in his room before looking down at you. "Look, it's not--"

Both of you stopped talking to blink at each other, the tension starting to thicken quicker than either of you could come up with a joke to cut it.

You decided to be the one to make the move, placing a hand on the doorknob. "...If you're open to it... I'd be willing to help you out. Just... Y'know, as a friends thing."

Charlie's brain seemed to short for a few seconds before he nodded. "Okay-- okay. If you're cool with it. I fucked up and missed my suppressant prescription and I haven't had one of these since like, middle school so it's-- okay it might. It might be bad. I--" His eyes flicked back and forth again.

"It might get a liiiittle rough."

You took a deep breath, infecting your mind even further with the warm, musky, addicting scent of your roommate.

"I can handle it. I'm on the pill, too, so you can--"

The door opened further and you were dragged into Charlie's room by your wrist. He was in literally just the hoodie and some loose boxer shorts, the window wide open and letting the cool air in. Well, the boxers would be loose, but he was completely tenting them out, making them tight as could be. As soon as you were inside the room you shut the door behind you and it was on, Charlie pulling you in and locking his lips against your own. You let out a little hum and grabbed at his hoodie, gripping onto it tightly. You pulled back to mumble about taking it off and he complied, breaking away from you to pull it off with one clean motion. His muscles rippled as he did, tight stomach flexing and triceps bulging as he bent his arms.

You made the approach as soon as he was free of his hoodie, your palms colliding with his chest to push him onto the bed. Sure, you felt a little bad for getting to indulge your crush all because Charlie had fucked up his rut medication schedule but with the way he outright arched into your touch, his feverish hot skin against your fingers... you just couldn't care. You pulled off your shirt, leaving you in just a bra. You would have taken your pants off too, but Charlie had already grabbed you and pulled you down to the bed. Your crotch slotted against his hips and you could feel the throbbing cock beneath you. Charlie let out an utterly pathetic little whimper and you grinned, settling your hands onto his shoulders.

"You're really hot like this, y'know."

"I mean, I do get fevers when I'm--"

"Oh, my god shut up," you giggled, kissing him again. His hands started to roam up your body, feeling over your waist before moving down to keep moving your hips against his own. You idly mumbled a "holy shit" as you looked down, staring at the huge wet spot already starting to stain his underwear.

"Please don't stop moving," Charlie's big blue eyes stared up at you and you couldn't help but kiss him again.

"How about you fuck me instead, then?" You grinned down at him, grinding down hard. You were already starting to soak through your underwear - sure, you weren't some blushing omega, but you were still going to react. Biological imperative, and all that. Being on birth control didn't hamper your own instincts, after all. "C'mon, Char. Why don't you use those big, strong arms to pin me down and--"

Your taunt was his command. The next thing you knew, you were lying on your back on the bed, Charlie's hands yanking at your leggings and underwear to pull them off all in one fell swoop. Your face went red as a string of your own fluids connected to the crotch of your underwear, snapping and landing on your thigh to shine in the ambient light from the window. Immediately, Charlie's eyes shot to it, and after throwing your pants to the floor he dove for your thigh.

His tongue rasped up the soft skin, nose diving into the crease of your hip and thigh to trail along the scent patches there. The spot was so sensitive, and you just couldn't help the moan that rolled out of your mouth. Charlie laid down on his stomach, wrapping his toned arms around your thighs and pushing his face into your pussy. He let out an audible groan as he buried his face in you, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin to try and swallow down all of your fluids. You wrapped your legs around his head, hands grabbing his messy hair and gripping it tightly. Arching up, you could see that he was grinding into the bed, clearly desperate but just aching to taste you.

"Charlie-- Charlie, fuck, please," you gasped as his teeth grazed your clit, the extra gentle bit of friction driving you crazy. You needed his teeth digging into your most sensitive spots immediately. "Please mark me. I fucking need it, holy shit!"

Like a proper gentleman, he obeyed, but like a true alpha, he was fucking brutal in the execution. He pulled his lips off of your aching, swollen clit to sink his sharp canines into your inner thigh. You cried out, legs trembling as you bucked up into the stimulation that was no longer there.

"If I'm gonna mark you," he mumbled around a mouthful of your thigh, "I'm gonna mark all of you," Charlie pulled off and moved his head to target your other thigh, using his arms to keep you spread open even when your legs wanted to squeeze around him.

"And I'm gonna do it properly."

[solaiced]

it’s mating cuffing season!

cw: hybrid geto, mating, geto in heat, breeding, not really sub geto, also slight dub-con, piv, reader is cisfem, and creds to yerchokito for the hybrid ideas (im ur biggest fan)

solace: surprise and happy new year late.

cat!suguru, who you found shivering at a nearby temple. you brought him home, determined to help him, even though he was fighting you every step of the way.

cat!suguru who you loved with every crevice of your heart, knowing he’d eventually love you too.

cat!suguru who slowly gave up trying to ward you off, wrapping his tail around your wrist or ankle whenever he could.

cat!suguru who loves to sleep on your chest and meows until you crack if he doesn’t get to sleep there.

cat!suguru who’s actually a fox. you were wondering why he was growing to be so long, have such pointed ears and such an elongated maw. his tail, once completely bare, had long, shaggy fur now. but it’s weird. shouldn’t foxes be… orange? or white, depending on their region? why was he black?

fox!suguru who will /not/ be taken away no matter what. who cares if he’s a rare breed of fox? no one will get his claws out of your skin. he’ll yowl and cry if anyone other than you holds him.

fox!suguru who hates going to the vet because there’s a fucking snow leopard there who won’t stop pawing him and they get into fights all the time.

fox!suguru who you named purple because of the light reflecting on his fur.

fox!suguru who you discovered was a human when you came out of the shower and discovered a naked man with long black hair, ears and a tail that matched (all three meticulously groomed), a purple collar (with suguru’s name on it, also too tight for his neck) around his throat who was sitting diligently on your bed. where your pet was supposed to be sat at.

“what the fuck.” is all you said, gripping the towel around your body with sheer fear.

“hi.” he shyly waved, half of his hair covering his face, like he was shameful.

so, fox!suguru who turns out to be human!suguru explained his situation (all after calming you down and assuring you he was, in fact, suguru, proving it by telling you that you have a mole under your left asscheek… weird, but he’s the only one who knew as you changed when he was in the room when he was a fox), from the world of sorcerers, to curses, to what made him become a fox.

“so, how did you…become human again?” you asked, now dry but still covering up with your towel.

“i have no idea. maybe because my cursed energy replenished fully, or i felt comfortable… but either way, thank you for taking care of me. you truly didn’t have to.” suguru blushed, looking down at his lap, that you had covered with a pillow.

“i mean, with how loud you were, someone else less patient would’ve killed you, so i had to.” you smirked, leaning toward him, “also, i couldn’t have let you out into the wild, you were too stuck to me.” his tail hit the mattress like he was distressed, and his ears flopped.

“i‘m really, truly sorry,” he whined, facing away from you.

you put your hand on his shoulder, smiling the way you would if he was still… well, a fox.

“it’s fine. it’s not i minded, anyway. i liked the company.” you weren’t lying, you were kinda dying of loneliness.

“i’m glad you did. now, i’ll… leave. thank you for keeping me, feeding me and taking care of me, i guess. i owe you, now.” suguru sighed, turning to you.

“oh, you don’t need to—“

“once i find my phone, you can call me anytime, anywhere and i’ll be there, and i’ll help you.” he was already writing his number on your hand, holding it gently in his.

“oh.” you flushed, blood rushing to your cheeks. it’d been months since a man even touched you with no bad intentions.

“u-um, suguru,” you prompted once he was done.

“yes?”

“why don’t you stay a bit more? i’ll buy you clothes so you can go out without any weird looks.” it would be weird, some random man, naked with weird ears and a tail.

his tail flicked behind him, you learned that that meant he was interested, but his ears twitching compromised that.

“i don’t think i should overstay my welcome—“

“please.” you cut him off, hand in his.

suguru sighed again, nodding. “it would be nice to be lazy a bit more. you’re sure you’re not doing this out of obligation, yes?” you nodded happily, seems the pet distribution system understood the assignment. and gravity hated you.

“your towel.” suguru pointed to your very exposed chest, shameless in his staring.

the next day, you went out and bought him clothes, cooked for him, and pampered him the way you would an actual pet, which he complained about.

“please, i can do this myself, i don’t want to impose on you.” suguru leaned down, face to face with you.

you flushed, smiling nervously, “i just want you to be comfortable.”

“i know, thank you. but please, let me do one thing in the house so i can repay you.” his ears flopped, and it was so cute you had to touch them, rub them and scratch behind. just like before. he moaned, knees buckling like he was literally liquifying.

you gasped at the sound, and suguru pulled away abruptly, straightening.

“no, wait, come back, your ears are fluffy.” you reached up, on your tippy toes, yet you couldn’t reach them.

“no, this… this was a mistake. i need to go.” he scrambled away, tail wrapped around his own thigh.

“sugu…” you huffed, wrapping a hand around his wrist to stop him. “please stay. i’m really lonely, y’know?” looking down in shame, you knew he might not even bat an eye at your ‘problem’.

“i…” suguru started, faltering when he sees the look in your eye. “it’s not like the jujutsu society will accept me back.” he muttered lowly as he exhales.

“um… what?” you’re confused, rightfully, but… what the hell is he talking about?

“nothing. if… if it doesn’t bother you… may i stay until further notice?” he looked embarrassed while he talked, but you’re very happy that he agreed.

“yes! please stay!” you excitedly jumped into his arms and hug him tightly.

“woah..!” suguru stumbles backwards but manages to catch you, automatically wrapping an arm around you and putting his left one under your ass.

you dropped down, managing a nervous chuckle.

“sorry, got a little too excited.” you apologized shyly.

“it’s fine. it’s been a long time since i even had a hug.” he smiled, and you realize, he still looks like a fox with it.

and that’s how you got a roommate. suguru has been here for about two months and you’ve never been so happy for days upon days consecutively. you celebrated christmas and new years together, drinking the worried away happily.

you’re now laying on the couch, lounging around, waiting for suguru to return home from the grocery store. your eyelids feel heavy, and before you know it, you’re falling asleep, snuggled up in his sweater. even though it was mid-january, it was still chilly enough to wear two layers under a blanket.

“i’m home.” suguru’s tired and breathy voice pierced through your sleepy haze.

“welcome home…” you yawn, stretching and flicking the blanket off of you.

his eyes zero in on his sweater, narrowing.

“did you get everything?” you get up, oblivious to the stare.

he takes off his bonnet and frees his twitching ears. he lifts his sweater after taking off his coat, revealing a tiny teensy bit of skin to let his tail loose. “yeah. but the usual brand of milk we get was out of stock so i bought the other one, hope that’s okay.”

“oh no, yeah it’s fine. c’mere.” with your hands outstretched behind you, you bend backwards over the couch’s back rest and make grabby hands at him.

suguru walks toward you, waist fitting your hand perfectly as he leans on the couch.

you flip over, facing him correctly, “i wish there was a way to hide your ears and tail when you go out. because these,” you rub the tips, causing him close his eyes in satisfaction, “are for me to see. only me, okay?” you joke, scratching behind the fluff.

“mhm…” he pushes his head in your hands, almost purring.

later, when both of your bellies were full and the tv show you watch every week comes on, suguru lays his head on top of your lap, enjoying the attention you gave to his furry parts.

he laughed tiredly at one of the jokes while your hands carded through his silky hair.

“what do you wanna do tomorrow?” you detangle a knot with gentle fingers as you ask him.

“i don’t know.” he shrugs, then looks up at you. “how about we just stay in? i don’t think i’ll feel energetic enough.” you chuckled.

“energy? who’s that?” and suguru chuckled back, squeezing your thigh.

“so, stay in tomorrow?”

“let’s stay in.”

you kept your word, sleeping until the late hours of the afternoon. but when you woke up and went to kitchen, you didn’t see suguru. weird, considering he wakes up very early naturally. so, you head to his room, knocking softly, in case he was still sleeping, but you still wanted to see if he was home.

a low groan answers your knock.

“you okay, sugu?” the nickname rolls off your tongue easily, like you were addressing an old friend.

however, instead of answering, suguru just throws something against the door, making you yelp.

“suguru?” you open the door with great effort, and, much to your surprise, it wasn’t an object that hit the door. no, it was far worse. it was suguru himself.

“oh god, suguru, what happened—?!” the mass that once was your roommate leaps onto you, sending you tumbling on the bedroom floor.

suguru’s hair tickles your face as he scans it with dilated pupils. he looked bloodthirsty, teeth sharp, shown by his open mouth.

“you’re finally here. i need… i need you. now.” he growls, hot breath hitting your face.

“what are you talking about— suguru!” you yell when he drags you to his bed, throwing you like a rag doll, like you weighed nothing, bouncing on the mattress.

“need…” he pauses to pant like he just ran a marathon. “need to mate.” mate?! is he going insane?!

“w-what do you mean ‘mate’? are you okay?” you ask again, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. gosh, it was burning. “i think you have a fever, sugu—“

he cuts you off with his explicit behavior, biting your wrist.

“suguru, what are you doing?” you sigh, figuring he was just pranking you.

suguru doesn’t respond, only rips, yes rips your shirt in half. and, knowing you didn’t wear bras to sleep, attacked your nipples until they hardened.

“suguru!” you should push him off. you seriously should. this isn’t appropriate.

.

.

.

who says you can’t fuck your roommate?

certainly not you. suguru is on top of you, suckling on your nipples like a newborn, humping your thigh like an animal. well, he is an animal, but this is basically your wet dreams, intensified by a thousand. and it wasn’t a dream.

“i need you.” he huffs on the hickey he created, sending shivers down your spine. “want you…” suguru trails his clawed fingers down your navel, stopping where your pants met your skin and pulling them down to press down on your panty-clad pussy. “here.”

your cheeks heat up, hands grasping at the sheets, “don’t just say that…”

“but it’s true. and i can feel you throbbing. you want it too, right? please tell me you do.” his rough tongue flattens against your core, and you could feel it dragging through the fabric.

“sugu—!” you push his head away reflexively when he reached your clit, making you jerk. he groans, forcing his face back in between your legs.

“don’t. you can’t take me without this.” he doesn’t waste time, shoving his mouth onto your pussy and slobbering all over it, even going so far as to nibble on your cute clit.

you mewl, back flopping against the mattress as suguru ate you out like his life depended on it, and he didn’t hold back. he inserted two fingers inside of you, curling them, pulling and pushing and making a disgusting ‘squelch’ sound each time his calloused fingertips left your slightly agape pussy.

once he deemed it prepped enough, he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit to gather the slick, straightening to undo his embarrassingly tight pants.

“that’s not gonna fit.” you back up against the wall fearfully, with reason, because the monster he pulled out was terrifying. did the curse make his cock bigger or something? that’s inhumane!

“i prepped you. it will.” suguru puts his hands over your knees and spreads your legs, kissing your entrance with his tip.

“um—“ you were already losing your mind with it all, unable to form coherent sentences as you grab his shoulder. “be gentle. i swear i’m gonna tear if you don’t go slowly.”

“don’t worry. i’m not a monster.” or maybe he was, pushing into your pussy so fast you almost didn’t feel the pain. almost.

“SUGURU!” you claw at his forearms, writhing in his arms.

“i- i’m sorry—“ he curses, tongue lolling out to lick your neck apologetically. “i c-can’t… control m-myself— oh-fuck!” your dearest roommate, who you have cared for for more than 3 months, was turning out to be the most vile dick you’ve ever had in your life.

suguru trembles as he holds your waist like it was his lifeline, pushing deeper and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. not that he was small, but because he reached a point in your cunt where he could not go deeper.

he growls to himself, thrusting in and making you yelp in pain.

“suguru, be careful, it’s sensitive.” you warn with your fingers in his hair.

“i need to go deeper if i wanna breed you correctly.” the dark haired man snaps, his thumb spreading your folds that were already bulging around his thick length.

“what? oh, no, no, no—you are not breeding me. what am i? breeding stock? don’t fucking—“ suguru cuts you off with a kiss, rubbing your clit as he pulls out achingly slowly. you were already so close to cumming even after the mind blowing one he had just given you, legs twitching around his waist.

he tuts, hands under your knees to push them against your chest and presenting your cunt to him. “much better. maybe i’ll even go deeper.” you try to protest but he’s right, you realize that because when he sinks inside of your dewy pussy, you can feel all of him. and it’s evident that he feels all of you, too, letting out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard, right in your ear. you might’ve gotten just a bit wetter at that sound.

“o-oh my—“ suguru gasps, finally thrusting the last inch into your warmness.

you’re struggling to breathe yourself, nails dragging his skin red for the nth time. at this point, people would ask him if he had a cat instead of you.

“thank you—thankyouthankyouthankyou—“ he babbles, roughly licking your jaw and chin as an attempt to kiss you. “you feel so good— i don’t know how i’ll live without you, please-“ you don’t know what he’s pleading for, but his tone had you in a chokehold and you’d do anything for him right now.

“please let me knock you up, please— i need it, i’ll die, i swear i’ll be good for you.” oh, it’s so dangerous. his whines combined with his strokes made your brain mushy and your thought incoherent. you would give in sooner than you thought you would.

“f-fuck, cum inside—“ you moan, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. and suguru is gone. he’s gone and a mindless, pussy drunk version of him has replaced him.

he plants his hands on the mattress and smacks his hips into you, balls slapping your asscheeks in a resounding plap!

he can’t control his eyes, rolling to the back of his skull as he bites his lip to keep his whimpers in check. but it was so hard, the way your walls clung to his cock, the wetness, the way—

“fuck!” suguru bites your shoulder, breaking skin as he paints your cunt white from the inside out. you wince at the bite, gritting your teeth.

your roommate comes back to his senses after a minute, panicking for all the wrong reasons.

“wha-what’s wrong?” you ask, trying to gain his frantic attention.

“it’s leaking.” he brings his fingers to your pussy and pulls out, scooping up the cum that was expelled by your walls spasming and stuffing it back in.

“are you serious? get off me.” you don’t know why you’re irritated, but you’re all wet, sweaty, and you smell like sex. unless he wants a second round, you don’t want to stay dirty like this.

suguru’s ears flop, he looks so pathetic, you don’t know what to do.

“what’s wrong with you?” you finally ask. why is he acting so needy?

“i don’t know.” he grumbles, cuddling up to your chest.

“agh, don’t hug me, i’m dirty!” you try to gently push him away but he’s stronger than you, caging you in his arms.

“i don’t care. let’s make more babies. we need to be sure—“

“we are not making children. i don’t know why you suddenly want to fuck so bad, but keep it down. i need to shower.” you order firmly, after all, an owner needs to be nice but not lenient… right?

“babies.” suguru pins you down on the bed, spreading your legs like he owned your body.

“suguru.” you shut your thighs. “no round two. i’m sore.”

“but… we need to make sure it takes. plus, you didn’t cum.” he makes a point. but that doesn’t mean you want to have children. even if you have a not so obvious crush on him.

“you made me cum once already.” you remind him, patting his head and rubbing his ears the way he adores. the man just purrs and leans into your touch just like he did before he turned back human.

“but—“

“but no. get off me. i’m serious.” he pouts uncharacteristically and rolls off of you to sulk.

smiling, you kiss his shoulder and saunter to the shower, pleasurably sore in all the right places. it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked well.

after showering (and cleaning out your pussy, unfortunately you would have to take a plan b since your roommate/situationship/whatever the hell you were didn’t use a condom), you cover up with a fluffy towel and see suguru on his bed, jerking off.

…jerking off?!

“oh—! i’m so sorry!” you jump back and hide your gaze. you would forever have the image of his pink veiny cock in his hand, but for his dignity you didn’t watch.

“what’s the- the matter? i told you… i needed a round two. i’m not satisfied.” his tail quivers underneath him.

“are you in heat, you dog?” you lightheartedly joke, mouth already watering at the sight. but you can’t give in yet.

“yeah. mating season. aren’t you supposed to help me, master?” suguru breathes as his hand blurs from how fast he jerked himself off, the precum beading at the tip along with your shared juices being used as a lube.

this is going to be a long night.

[mintmatcha]

if makki and mattsun are gay for each other. why are they having sex with reader.

bisexual men exist

[punks-never-die205]

Happy Birthday Cap'n

cisfem!reader x Eustass Kid

No Summary, just lots of smut... about 4,838 words of it.

CW (deep breath): vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, dildo, vibrator, wax, degradation, swearing, messy sex, impact play, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, Master, begging, oral, biting, reference to omegaverse but this is not.

@icy-spicy @standfucker @thecaptainsdeck @zoros-sheath here’s the story I mentioned the other day 💕😎

You look at the small toy, clearly unimpressed. The series of beads get a little bigger as it progresses, but for one of Kid’s toys it’s really small.

“Don’t let how it looks now fool you, Mouse.” He says with a wicked grin. “It’s coated in latex but the stuff inside expands with heat, and body heat is enough to trigger it.”

“Expands by how much?”

“Not enough to do damage. I’ve tested it a lot, and then we did trial runs before now. But I can put this in that sweet little tight ass of yours now, and by dinner you’ll be gaping and ready.” He promises.

“If you say so.” You mutter, bending over the bench and putting your ass in the air. “And today I’ll just stay in here the whole time?”

“Yeah,” you can feel him pressing lube into your ass even with the toy’s small size. “Me and the guys have been through it, but I want to be sure with you before you spend a day with one of these in while you’re out and about.”

“Ever the cautious one.” You muse, humming as his finger pushes into your ass. “I do love that about you when it comes to your inventions.”

“You love all of me, Mouse.” He asserts, smacking your ass cheek and getting you to squeak and squirm a little.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You moan the words arching your back, knowing his face is flushed at the declaration.

Kid lubes up the toy too, and then starts to push it in. It always feels weird at first, and he works it in slowly. By the 3rd bead you’re holding onto the bench and melting into the sensation. It’s not just the toy - Kid knows what the fuck he’s doing.

“This is the fourth one, three more to go.” He informs and teases you at the same time, the next slightly larger head pushing in easily.

“Fuuu-Hnnngh, ah. Shit. It’s not fair how good this feels.”

“Heh, you’re like one of those omegas in those comics you and Heat like. Thirsty little fuck no matter how or what hole is getting filled.”

“It’s just cause it’s you.” You pout.

“Oh?” Kid leans over you, pushing the toy to where you can feel the next bead stretching you a little more. “Want me to mark you when you cum then? Drive my teeth,” his words are hot against your back and you can feel him moving to the nape of your neck. “Nice and deep,” he pushes the next part in and you gasp. “Right here?”

“Fuck, fuck, Kid, dammit -.” You squirm but he has you well and pinned. “That spot, you’re, hitting!”

“Heh, man or woman, some people are just blessed to be sensitive in all the best places.” He huffs into your hair, toy seemingly laser targeted onto the spot that’s sending jolts through your body light electricity.

He reaches out with his free hand and grabs one of yours. You hold onto that hand with both of yours, legs and toes curling as he works the toy until you can feel the unavoidable rush of an orgasm building.

“Am I going to bite you, Mouse?” He questions, voice low and commanding.

“Yes, yes please!” You gasp the words, desperate to know how it feels.

“Gonna mark you as mine,” he growls. “Let you warm my cock while this toy expands in your ass. Keep you all to myself today, Mouse.”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck, Kid, I’m kuh-cumming!” You nearly scream the words, and as the pleasure tears through you the bright sting of Kid’s teeth piercing your skin rips pleasure and pain both to new heights. The pleasure wins out as he thrusts the last two beads into your ass.

Kid leans back as you melt into the afterglow. He smacks your ass and you moan, shifting sweetly beneath him.

“Nice work, if I do say so myself.” He muses, running his fingers over the bite mark on your neck. “Let’s get that cleaned and bandaged, then you can sit in my lap while I work.”

“Keepin’ yer cock warm?” You mumble, as Kid helps steady you on your feet.

“Heh, fuck yeah. If you’re good and patient I’ll reward you.” He promises, leaning down and giving you a greedy kiss. “Make you cum so much you’ll work that behemoth out of your ass all on your own.”

Kid gets the much deeper than he’d usually do bite mark cleaned and bandaged, and then gets settled at his work bench. You settle into his lap, facing him, and begin to work his thick cock into your wet cunt.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the girth makes you more aware of the slowly expanding toy in your ass. The shared intrusion has you shivering, panting into Kid’s chest and your legs trembling as you try to work yourself into a comfortable position.

“Sounds like you’re gonna cum.” Kid teases.

“C-Can I?” You gasp, looking up at him. Your face is flushed, and you’re desperate for relief, so full like this, you know how you must look. “Full, I’m so full, I just… need a little bit.” The words fall from your lips like sweet treats, and he swears he can taste them on his tongue.

“No.” He says finally, tearing his gaze away from your face and turning toward the work bench. “Stay still, Mouse.”

The commanding tone is enough to make you clench and you gasp as you hold onto him. Sometimes you would argue, sometimes you would play at being a brat and relish in him putting you in your place, but you were so full. The bite on your neck felt like fingers slipping gently down your back, cowing you and turning you on.

You wanted to melt at his command today.

“Yessir.” You mutter it softly because you barely trust your own voice.

“Listen to you,” he purrs the words, hands already busy with work on the bench. “Try a better word, slut.”

The way he says the word so evenly. There’s no love or disdain on the word, it’s just a statement of what you are. Something about it licks against your cunt like it was his tongue.

“Yes, Master.” You say the words clearly, hands on his sides, keeping yourself steady and still with his pulsing cock inside your pussy, and the expanding toy in your ass. You could feel the soft shift of it, the way the lube would move like cum inside you every time it shifted.

“That’s better little whore.” You can almost hear the grin in his tone, even with how he’s focused on the work between his palms. The degrading word presses against your skin like it was his tongue.

He works in silence for a few minutes, and you try not to feel every single thing.

You swear his heart beat is in his shaft, thumping against your shivering walls. You can feel each fiber of his pants against your thighs, and the coarse tickle of his pubes trying to caress your clit. He moves a little while he works, shifting the world around you only the smallest bit, but it feels like such a large movement.

He smacks your ass with his flesh hand without warning and the surprised sound that parts your lips turns into something truly whorish once it passes your teeth. The impact and your own surprise nearly lifts you off his girth.

“Get your fucking cunt back where it belongs,” he growls and you sink back down. Despite the growing size of the toy in your ass, you’re so wet you sink even lower onto him, your throbbing cunt nestling into his pubic hair.

You lean back a little to keep it from bothering you, and Kid puts a hand on your back, pressing you into his chest and pushing you down a little further.

“Haannngh!” You groan in pleasure, on the edge of an orgasm you’re about ready to start begging for, but it’s only been a few minutes and you know the answer.

“Don’t lean back,” there’s less dom in his voice and more regular Kid. “I don’t want to solder your hair on accident.”

“Kay, okay,” you gasp, shivering against him.

“Gonna cum so soon?” He teases, the edge back in his voice. It sits against your throat and you almost want to ask him to bite you again. “Gonna start calling you Dumpster instead of Mouse.”

“Fah-fuck you,” you gasp. Okay, maybe you couldn’t let go of that bratty streak entirely.

You hear him push back whatever he’s working on before he grabs your hair and leans you back. His cock is still buried inside you, and you swear you can feel your stomach stretch against the new angle.

“What was that, little pet?” He questions, a toothy grin on his face as he looms over you. He looks like a wolf, teeth bared and a glint in his eyes. If he had claws you imagine you’d feel one trailing down your stomach right now.

“I’m… I’m not a cum dumpster.” You try to assert.

“That’s not what you said, slut.” He growls, tugging your hair and making you gasp. He leans down enough to lick a heavy stripe against your clavicle, stopping before he comes around to the bite he left earlier.

“Say.” He licks up the side of your neck. “It.” His teeth tease the soft lobe of your ear. “Again.” He sucks the soft flesh into his mouth, biting on your earlobe and sucking hard enough to bruise it a little.

“Fuck you!” You cry out, the sting of the harsh hickey on your ear making you answer him more loudly than you meant.

“Mmm,” he breathes the sound into your neck. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You feel him shift, and hear his belt being pulled loose. “K-Kid, wait, I mean, Master, I didn’t-.”

“Color, Mouse.”

“G-green, I think. Green.” You stammer hastily and Kid kisses you. The soft rush from the contact makes your heart skip and then helps settle your nerves.

He reaches past you with the belt, hooking it to something before having you raise your hands over your head. Looping the belt around them, he makes it snug, but you can free yourself if you need to, and has you hold onto the strap.

The position has you arched and exposed beneath him. Toy in your ass, his cock in your shivering pussy, your shoulder just barely making it to the edge of the bench, and your arms above your head. It leaves your breasts exposed, and keeps your clit from rubbing into his body.

“Hold onto that belt nice and tight,” he commands, roughly palming your breasts. “And I won’t use it on you, bratty little shit.”

You gasp from the pleasure of his hands, one hot and rough, the other smooth and ice cold, against your tits. The sensation causes you to squirm and Kid grabs your hips, holding you still.

“Cum without permission and I’ll use it on your cunt, got it whore?” He growls, and you nod your head. “Say it.”

“If I leggo, you’ll punish me, and if I kuh-cum without permission you’ll,” you whimper, enticed by the idea and afraid of it at the same time. “Use your belt on my cunt.”

“Good girl,” he hums, leering down at you and taking in everything with his sharp golden gaze. “Now, what to do. You couldn’t leave me alone to work, so I’ll have to pass the time a different way.”

You do your best to stay still with him looking at you like that. You can feel the heat rolling through you, on display like this, that darkness dripping from his tone. Kid was always a little rough, always moved you how he wanted, always satisfied you deeply no matter what he did, but sometimes he’d get a little extra mean.

Sometimes you knew before the session started, and sometimes he’d just push and push until you started to crack a little.

A metal candle holder, complete with candle, moves easily into Kid’s hand. A couple snaps of his metal fingers and the candle lights. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t promise anything. He just stays there, watching the flame slowly melt the wax.

You know what’s coming.

“Please,” you gasp, and Kid’s eyes slip from the small flame of the candle down to you.

“Oh right,” he says sarcastically. “I can’t punish you, if you don’t cum without permission.” He holds the candle in his metal hand and puts his right hand on your stomach. “Fuck, I really can feel it.” He hums, rubbing the taut part of your stomach. It wasn’t an obvious bulge from what you could see, but the lack of squish in your stomach was obvious.

“Not a bad angle.” He hums, shifting his hand just enough to press his thumb into your clit. “You’re not gonna get permission.” He warns, his thumb pressing and rolling against your clit.

“Oh gods, fuck no, no, no, Kid—AH!” You gasp and hiss in a breath as a hot splash of wax licks your stomach, biting roughly before it cools.

“It’s Master, you fucking slut, get it right.” He grumbles.

“Master, master, please…” You gasp, fingers gripping the belt so you don’t let go.

“Now, the faster you give in, the less wax there’s gonna be.” He explains, rolling the candle lazily in his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll start fucking you before there’s too much.”

“Please, please, please let me cum,” you sputter, the pleasure was already tight in your stomach and it wasn’t going to take much more.

“Oh you’re gonna cum, Mouse.” He promises you. “But you’re not gonna get permission.”

“Ki-Master! Master please!” You beg, squirming beneath him. You were too stretched out to move much, and what little movement you could do did nothing except expedite the growing need in your gut. “Fuck, fuck, please, Master, please, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” You gasp the words.

“No,” Kid rolls his hips, thrusting into you lovingly.

“Fuuuu-Nnnnnnnngh!” Your entire body tenses, the orgasm pulling your stretched form even more taut as your pussy throbs against his cock. The toy in your ass expands as you clench against it, and it almost feels like you orgasm in the middle of your orgasm.

Just as you pass the peak, body still tense as the pleasure abates slightly, the hot splash of wax on your chest dribbles right over your nipple. Screaming you curl from the harsh sting that bites deeper so close on the heels to your orgasm. The action causes you to fuck Kid and the sweet pleasure of his cock burying into you and against the toy eases some of the pain of the wax.

“Holy… fuck!” You gasp the words, gulping in big lungfuls of air. The contradicting sensations have you a mess, sweat already dappling your skin, sliding coolly down your back.

Kid drips single drops onto your stomach randomly as you come down from your high. His eyes are glued to each little twitch and jerk as the single drops land.

“Shit, fuck,” you hiss and swear, squirming beneath him. You’re trapped, no movement you make will set you free and every jerk and wiggle just makes your stomach tighten, the pleasure skittering through your limbs on the heels of the hot sting from the small drops of wax.

Kid starts to roll his hips into you, and you whimper. The pleasure is going to boil over and if he’s helping it means there’s a good bit of wax still left.

“Please, please,” you nearly sob the words. You don’t know if you want to cum, or just want him to pour the wax at this point. “Fuck I can feel it expanding in my ass,” you whine, squirming and pushing back into him as he thrusts lazily into you.

“Cum,” the word claws out of your mouth in desperation. “Gonna cum!”

“Don’t you dare, whore.” He commands, even as he teases your clit and bullies your cunt. “There’s so much wax- oh, there you go.” He purrs the words as your body tenses in silence. Your legs go rigid against his sides, your toes flexing as you hold onto his belt white-knuckled.

He doesn’t wait for you to come down this time, cutting a line of wax against your lower hips and stomach. The harsh line seems to want to hit your clit but he doesn’t go that far down. You suck in a gasp of air, pussy grinding into him as the sting from the wax makes your hips shake to try and throw off the already cooling substance.

“Yuh-yellow,” your word is airy and tired, fingers shivering and flexing against the belt. Kid sets the candle aside and has you let go of the loops of belt.

Cradling you in his big metal hand, the cool metal feeling wonderful against your hot skin. You catch your breath for a moment and Kid gives you a little water.

“How’s your ass?”

“If this thing vibrated I’d be passed out by now.” You admit with a soft smile. “But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s expanding very slowly, despite all the heat and such.”

“Afraid of it coming out?”

You shake your head. “Nah, but, uh…” your face flushes hot despite the moment of reprieve. “I’d rather… you.”

“Me?” Kid prompts, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers and thumb and making you look at him. “Say it clearly, Mouse.”

“I-.”

“Look into my eyes you shameless little slut.” He commands and you feel the embarrassment rush you again. “You’re my whore, I know you want to beg me like the dirty fuck you are.”

You bring your gaze to his and your cunt throbs against his cock from the look on his face alone. The devilish grin on his lips lets you know he could feel it.

He leans down, keeping your gaze trapped. “Call me Captain when you beg, Mouse.”

The breath you breathe in shivers at the command.

“Please, uh…” you swallow thickly, bracing against him and slowly riding him as best you can in this position. “Fuh-fuck me in the ass, Captain, please. Take, take this toy out and fill me with your cum, please, Captain, please.”

“Need me that bad?” He muses and you nod.

“Fuck me up Kid, I’m begging like a good Mouse.” You nearly demand it, hands on his face. He lets you pull him into a kiss as his hand overs down to your breasts, the rough grip peeling cooled wax away carelessly. You whine and squirm into the kiss, but you don’t break it.

“Everything for you, Mouse.” He says, breaking the kiss and lifting you off his lap.

You moan at the feeling of his cock leaving you empty and wanting. Turning you over he puts you face down on the work bench. You grab onto the belt just to have something to hold onto, and Kid’s hands are on your cheeks, squeezing them until you kick and squirm from the sensation.

“Fuck… every squeak you make is perfect.” He husks before putting his metal hand against your back again. It’s not as cold as it had been earlier, warmed by the heat of your skin, but it’s still colder than you and it feels good.

He grabs the base of the toy in your ass and starts to pull it free. The first bead is the largest, and you gasp as it stretches the tight ring of muscles of your sphincter. You do what you can to help ease it out, having learned from Kid that you could push and your body would do what it could.

The sensation as it pops free as has you squirming beneath his hand. He pushes it back against your entrance, as though he means to push it back in, and you moan so deeply it’s almost a growl as the beads rub your insides.

He pulls the second one out and does push it back in and your back arches against his metal hand as you gasp in pleasure and surprise. He pulls it out and then keeps pulling, slowly but steadily freeing each bead as you moan and wriggle, trapped between his hand and the workbench.

“Fuck! I need to fill you up.” He growls, tossing the toy aside and standing up behind you. “You’re gaping and soaked in lube, I’m just gonna-.” The head of his cock is pressed into your ass and slips in so easily you nearly cum from the intrusion.

“Fuck!” You both swear, his hands on your ass cheeks again, spreading them apart as he sinks in deeper and deeper.

“Gods, fucking, seas, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out as his fingers knead the meat of your ass cheeks. Kid doesn’t sink any deeper, instead grinding the point he’s at. “Not, not there, shit shit I’m gonna-fuck!-hnnngh!”

You release your hold on the belt, beating your fists into the table as you cum hard against his cock. You can feel the slick drip down your thighs without him in your pussy, the sensitive walls fluttering against nothing as your ass spasmed against the rock hard beast buried in it.

“I love the way you cum,” Kid hums, pushing in deeper even as you’re still shivering from the orgasm. “The way your whole body feels it. The fucking sounds you make,” his voice is getting husky as he presses his hips flush into your ass cheeks. Hands by your shoulders, looming over you, watching you tremble beneath him.

The sweet mewl he pulls from your lips as he licks up your spine between your shoulder blades nearly makes him cum.

He shifts, using his legs to force yours wide. Gasping you grab back onto the belt as the new position has you braced against his legs more than the table. You aren’t surprised when the bulb of the wand vibrator nestles against your clit.

“Oh gods, oh gods, Kid, Kid - wait, wait - I…” you whine but your body betrays as your hips wiggle into the toy.

“Color,” he commands and you nearly sob.

“Yellow, green - fuck don’t stop! Please, please it’s gonna take me out.” You whine. “I’m gonna scream, I swear!”

“I’ll turn it on when I cum.” Kid says, thrusting into your ass until there’s loud wet smacks from the excess lube on your skin. It’s not even a minute and he throws the vibrator on, pushing in deep as the vibrations rock your clit and he empties his balls into your ass.

He fucks you through his orgasm and pushes you over the edge in the process. Kid growls a swear between his teeth as he overstimulates himself with your body, and you scream a mix of swears and his name as you squirt your orgasm onto the workshop floor. His metal hand is braced on the table in front of you and you hold onto it for dear life as your body shudders uncontrollably with euphoric pleasure.

“Fuck,” Kid growls again, dropping the wand and thrusting into you roughly until you can feel him twitching and unloading into your ass a second time. “Shit,” he huffs, sweat dripping from his brow onto your back. “Fuck I haven’t cum back to back like that, in a fucking hot minute.”

Leaning down, he kisses down your back as he slowly pulls out of your ass. You mewl and gasp softly, shivering against the pleasure and strange sensation of his exit.

“Good job, Mouse.” He hums as he pulls out completely.

Rolling you onto your back he leans down and kisses you. You’re both a sweaty mess, hair clinging to skin, sex and exhaustion heavy in the air, skin salty from everything. He’s kissing trail down your jaw to your neck, and he leans back enough to start peeling the errand bits of left over wax still on your skin.

His fingers carefully flake away the hard and cooled wax as he licks and suckles your nipples gently. The soft pleasures almost make you giggle as you sigh happily.

“I’m sweaty,” you hum and he makes a soft knowing sound, still kissing and licking your skin.

His eyes meet yours as his kisses descend lower. You bite your lower lip, and shift in anticipation. He brushes away the wax along your lower abs and hips with his hands as his tongue presses heavy against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck, Kid - Captain, if I cum again you’ll have to carry me.” You sigh, your hips pressing into his mouth greedily.

“It’s my birthday, Mouse.” He hums into your mound. “I’m going to carry you out of here, wash you, and fuck your pretty clean pussy all over again.”

You whimper, but you can feel the orgasm building again. Deciding not to fight it, or him, you put your hands in his hair and listen to him moan against your clit. He licks long heavy strips against your folds and clit, working you up slowly and inevitably. Lifting your legs with his hands, he spreads and bends them back enough to plunge his tongue into your vagina, his pointed nose pressing into your clit.

“Wait, Kid, I think, I think I’mma squah!” The word breaks from a rush of pleasure, and you need a second to try again. “Squirt again, if you do that I’ll -!” The focused look on his face makes you clench against his tongue and the heat rush through you. “I can’t, I can’t - it’s like peeing on you, and I can’t,” you gasp as Kid leans back.

“I’d drink that too,” he answers easily, lifting one of your legs up into the air and slapping your soaking clit. The slap sounds louder than the impact feels, but the strike still has enough force behind it to send a powerful jolt through you. You nearly came from it, gasping in a heavy breath and scrambling to know how he managed to ride the line like that.

“Mm, one day I’m going to spank your cunt until you cum from it.” He muses, hands on your ass cheeks again as he uses that grip to pin your pussy between his hands and mouth.

Your shoulders are still barely on the work bench, and from this angle you can’t see what he’s doing, you can only feel it. Your legs and arms flail for a few seconds until your body realizes it’s not going anywhere no matter how to squirm, and the relentless pleasure from his mouth between your thighs left you little recourse except to lay there and take it.

Breathy swears babbled from your lips like a soft and delirious prayer, your body slow growing more and more tense as the pleasure you couldn’t escape coiled tighter and tighter. Your toes curled as the inevitable began to crest, your chest rose as your back arched from the tension building in your muscles.

Your babbled prayer became a panting rush of almost fearful whimpers, the slow build reaching a height you had expected to already peak. The same grip that kept you from getting away, also held you steady even as your curled body began to tremble. The tears that pooled in your eyes spilled over as the tension snapped.

Gushing against Kid’s face you can barely hear the splatter against the floor this time. You can feel him swallowing even as his lips kept bullying your clit. Spots dance over your vision and your hands smack on the table as your heels drive bruises into his shoulders. You can’t control any of the movements, and when you heave in a breath the only sound that escapes you almost sound angry, more war cry than moan of pleasure, but it helps ease some of the tension in your muscles.

Stiff arms and a curled back collapse into the workbench reaching out for Kid with sobs on your lips as his continued licking is hurdling you into overstimulation. His tongue teases toward your ass before he stops short and licks one last heavy slurp all the way up your slit.

“Fuck, you’re delicious.” He says it like he’d just devoured a full course meal. Kid moves you so you’re laying out as comfortably as possible on the workbench for a moment while you catch your breath. Your hazy gaze is full of love and bliss and if he could stop any moment, it would always be this one.

“That’s my girl,” he hums softly, never really sure if you hear him or not, kissing your forehead, and caressing your face.

When you have your senses gathered enough you reach out for him, and he scoops you into his arms easily, cradling you against his chest and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, cap’n.” You mutter lovingly, snuggling into the mountain of warmth that held you just a little bit closer.

[razbrry]

i don’t remember if i requested this already but may i request an nsfw scenario where cisfem reader and grelle get steamy in the office pls?

note— yes yes yes 30x yes!! imagine grell in this ... she is so majestic i can’t. mama mama mamaaa.—☆💋💄

rated: smut! includes: (risky sex, riding, nipple play, biting, drawing blood??? a little, noisy&needy grell :3)

tire out— ft. grell sutcliff w/c: 864

the office was dimly lit, filled with the quiet hum of paperwork being processed and cinematic records being sorted. grell, ever the vibrant death connoisseur, strutted among her office, files in hand. 

“honestly, darling… they’re just piling up today… like a mountain of paperwork!” she tuts, prompting a snort from you.

“your job is ridiculous.”

“pardon?!”

a tense silence follows her gasp as you try to find the right wording. 

“treating human souls like mere paperwork is so oddly dehumanizing, don’t you think? it’s funny.”

“well, dear, that’s the whole point,” she collapses onto the chair at her desk, spinning around on it idly. “us reapers have to do repeat that process to revise the cinematic records then to find if they’re worthy of death.. ughhhh… *so* exhausting.” 

her rambling was nothing short of endearing, that’s for sure. grell throws hear head back, leaning back on her chair dramatically. she sneaks a peek at you, who stands over her desk, lost in thought.

“did you hear me?”

“your bitch and complain? yeah, i did.”

grell’s eyebrows furrow. 

“oh, you wound me! you have no idea how *exhausted* i ammmm….” she trails off, giving you another hinting side eye. 

you bite back a chuckle, taking the hint too well before sitting right upon her desk while simultaneously pushing aside her paperwork.

“oh yeah? how exhausted?” 

like a moth to a flame, grell finally sits straight on her chair, her thighs clutching shut at your purr.

“quite… quite exhausted yes,” her ears flush along with her glasses lightly slipping down that bridge of her nose. 

so gorgeous.

you run your hands through her long, fiery hair before tugging her in.

“you couldn’t use any extra exhausting, could you?” 

your voice was lightly taunting with a gentle pout to your lips, down to your working fingers that teasingly trace her open collarbone, thanks to grell’s classy striped blouse.

the reapers green eyes sparkle with delight before looking around in a tiny excited panic.

“i could certainly use a change of pace…”

before you two knew it, you were straddling grell in her chair, your hands roaming freely against her chest. you could feel grell's breath hitch as you settled yourself on her lap, her crimson painted nails digging lightly into the fabric of your clothes.

you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear. "let's see if i can help with that exhaustion," you whispered, your hand slipping down to unbutton her trousers.

grell's eyes fluttered shut, her body trembling with anticipation as your hand found its way to her already stiffened cock. "darling..." she breathed, her voice a mix of desire and desperation.

you began to stroke her slowly, savoring the way her body reacted to your touch. her hips bucked against your hand, seeking more friction. "so needy, grell," you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

her response was a low, throaty moan as you increased your pace, her grip on your waist tightening. you could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps. her teeth sink down on your neck, initiating a sharp stinging sensation that made you cry out in a miserable attempt to be quiet. just when she was on the brink, you slowed down, drawing a frustrated muffled whine from her.

"patience, love," you cooed, your fingers now tracing her collarbone and slipping beneath her blouse to tease her pretty pink nipples. grell withdrew her mouth from you, proudly tasting a hint of your blood from that harsh bite.

"please," she begged, her voice cracking slightly.

you couldn't resist any longer. standing up briefly, you lowered tugged down her panties lightly. you straddled her again, guiding her inside your cunt with a slow, deliberate movement that had you both groaning in unison.

as you settled into a steady rhythm, you leaned back, allowing your fingers to play with her nipples. grell's head lolled back against the chair, her hands clutching at your hips as you rode her.

the office was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the papers and cinematic records forgotten. you kept your movements slow, savoring every sensation, while your hands continued to tease her sensitive nipples.

"how’s that feel, sweetheart?" you murmured, your voice dripping with tenderness.

"so good," she gasped, her hands gripping your thighs as she tried to maintain control. "don't stop... please..."

you quickened your pace slightly, bouncing on her lap and letting out a couple of squeaks here and then…

“dear… o-oh dear, m’ gonna… ngh! cumming…” grell whines onto your neck, her thighs quivering uncontrollably. “shh, lower it down, baby,” you murmur as you oush her face onto your cleavage to muffle her up.

with a final, deep thrust, you both found release, your bodies trembling together in the aftermath. as you collapsed against her, grell's arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

"you certainly know how to... change the pace," she panted, a satisfied smile on her lips.

you chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips. "anything for you, darling. now, about that paperwork..."

grell groaned playfully, her head falling back against the chair. "later," she murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. "much later."

. . .

[jisokai]

…dabihawks threesome goes crazy because they good cop/bad cop dom you lol

(smut, degradation and praise, implied cisfem reader)

“Quit moving, brat,” Touya nearly growls. 

Two rough fingers thrust through your folds, eliciting a string of whimpers from your throat. You obey the best you can, but your hips rut with his movements, meeting his knuckle halfway. The heat is dizzying, all consuming as the thread of pleasure coils tighter and tighter within you.

Touya grunts, tearing his hand away. You whimper, protesting your loss when you had only just begun to crest the hill.

“Hah…” he laughs above you, a drawn out sound. His fingers trace your thighs meanly—to remind you what he’s refusing to give. 

You manage your eyes open, just enough to catch the glint of his hair: slivers of moon in the dim room. His grin matches his tone, a sharp display of teeth. It fades as his fingers trace back to your center, slipping slowly—tauntingly—where you’re soaking for him. A thumb presses harshly against your clit and you shudder, slipping back into fuzzy darkness.

You plead while he edges you again, stringing you along only to slow down once more. Tears clump in your lashes as you succumb to begging, babbling pleas for him to let you finish.

But he laughs again, coming to a stop. You whine, a ring that echoes through the room.

“What makes y’think you deserve it?”

He’s meaner than usual, dragging it out a little longer than you’re used to. You release a shaky exhale.

Then he grunts, Keigo’s elbow jutting into his side. The noise startles your eyes open.

“She’s been good,” Keigo says firmly.

Touya’s face twists in annoyance, challenging Keigo’s glare. The latter glances at you and smiles, a gentle curve edging into his cheek. His hair fluffs around him, the golden wisps of the sun.

“Isn’t that right, pretty?”

You nod on instinct, tilting into the blond’s touch as his hand lowers to caress your cheek. 

Touya tsks as he elbows Keigo back, nudging him away from you. When your eyes drift to him he’s softened. He sighs, head dipping to kiss your temple. His hand trails along your thighs—still quickly, but softer this time. You gasp when three fingers sink inside you, all the way to the knuckle before curling in long strokes.

“So good baby… so pretty,” he mumbles against your skin as he works you back up to your high.

More tears well along your waterline, this time from the buzzing in your chest. You finish with a cry, covering the slick sounds of Touya’s hand drawing out your release.

“M’sorry for taking longer to say it today.”

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Magical Intrusion | Chapter 3

!NSFW! male companions x cisfem reader read the first chapter here

This chapter contains: reader pov, sexual dreams, dubcon, vaginal sex

You have a very vivid dream.

~~~~

You're absolutely exhausted from the day, and it seems your companions are much the same. Gale turns in first, and Wyll and Shadowheart are quick to follow. Then, in silent agreement, you and everyone else share weary goodnights and disappear into your own tents.

Your eyes are closed before your head even hits your pillow. The relief to finally be lying down, the exhaustion from travelling all day...your bedroll has never felt this good.

You fall asleep almost immediately, and find yourself in a dream. Someone is touching you, softly, shallowly, their hand between your legs. You open them, greeting the finger that slips inside of you with tentative eagerness.

But who is it? Your mind asks, just as the finger delves in deeper. Who is touching you so sweetly?

In the dream, you see a figure above you, but the face is obscured by your uncertainty.

'Please,' You whisper in your dream, wanting to know their identity.

But then you feel something bigger at your entrance--spongey and hot and already pressing into you. Fear shoots through your body, but you realize what you had said--your late night visitor must have thought this is what you meant.

And then you feel them enter you. It feels so real, the pressure of their cock tip so vivid in your mind, the slight ache of your hole being stretched.

But they don't start thrusting. Maybe they can sense your apprehension. You take in a deep breath and look up again. Who is it?

You can feel the cock throbbing inside you so perfectly. The person is obviously excited, but they're waiting for you.

You raise a hand and cup the cheek of the person above you. Is it Astarion? No, even if he spends a good time flirting with you, you don't see him being so gentle. You swear you can feel the cheek's warmth as soon as you rule the vampire out.

So Wyll, then. He would be gentle like this, taking his time, making sure you're ready. You can almost see the shape of his horns in the darkness. But would he really sneak into your tent for something like this? He'd be more of a gentleman about it, surely.

The horns above you seem to melt back into the darkness, and now you can feel stubble under your fingers.

Gale. Of course it's Gale. Not too long ago, you had pictured a kiss with him, and he had rejected you. The sting of it still makes your heart clench, but maybe this is him making up for it. Maybe he had been holding himself back, but now, he can't any longer...

You feel him push in just a little deeper, as if rewarding you for figuring it out. There's still a knot of apprehension in your gut, but there's also relief. You can see his face clearly now, the twinkle in his dark eyes and the smile pulling at his lips.

'Gale,' You say up at him, but your voice feels weak, distant. 'Why are you doing this?'

You can feel his cock retreat a bit--he's pulling out. Did you do something wrong again? You try to grab him in your dream, but your arms are so heavy and aren't wanting to move. You call to him again, voice muffled and weak, but you aren't sure that he can hear you.

But then he pushes in again, and again, and you realize with a cold thrill that he's fucking you. It's shallow, only serving to stretch your entrance really, but it's still electrifying. You don't care if his dick's small and this is as deep as he can get-- it's Gale, he doesn't hate you after all, and that's enough to make it feel amazing.

The thrusting picks up speed and your arms are finally able to wrap around him as you rock with his efforts.

'Gale,' You moan up at him, 'Gale, please..."

He goes faster still, a breakneck pace that seems nearly impossible. Your pussy throbs, desperate for more stimulation, your clit unhooded and begging to be touched, but you just can't get your hand between your legs to give it what it needs.

But you don't get to try for long, because you feel a blossom of heat flood your entrance. It's so profound in your mind that you can even feel it trickle from your hole and run down your ass. It feels so real, in fact, that you can feel sleep falling from you, a gradual sense of your body and mind returning to you.

And then, all at once, he shoves every inch of himself into you, and he's evidently not so small after all. You're being stretched full, suddenly and without warning.

You sit up on your bedroll, disoriented and panting, still feeling the weight of something buried deep inside you, even as your dream dissipates. You blink blurrily around in the darkness, sleep-clumsy hands fumbling under the blanket to cup at your pussy.

There's nothing there.

You wrestle with your waistband and slip a hand past it just as you feel the pressure inside of you retreating--sliding out of you wetly, leaving your hole pulsing and hot from being used. Panic boils in your chest as you reach down and feel over your folds. You're positively soaked, and you can feel yourself still throbbing.

You kick off your blanket, adrenaline spiking as you peer around your tent, looking for....nothing, evidently. There's certainly no one else in here with you.

But it all felt so real. Is it really possible that you just dreamt all of that up? And even after you sat up and felt the thing leaving you...was that just part of the dream too?

You draw your legs up against your chest as you listen to the crackle of the fire and the soft snores of your companions. The strong, uneven thumping of your arousal slowly ebbs away.

It had to have been a dream, you rationalize with yourself, eyes starting to feel heavy again. Just a dream.

CHAPTER 4 (coming soon!)