#second one doesn’t have an actual name yet

[ostaramoon]

TIMELOOP ― breaking down at daybreak diner 𖤐 dean winchester

【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader 【 summary 】 Dean is stuck in a time loop, and it doesn’t take long for him to notice someone else is stuck in here, too. He figures if he wants out of the endless Wednesdays, you’ve gotta be the key. He’s just not sure why. As for you, despite the absurdity of timeloops and the trickster god Dean keeps swearing to gank, a few Wednesdays with this man isn’t the worst thing that could happen.  【 cw 】 slow burn, part 1 won’t include anything besides explicit language but as always mdni, 18+ as the series will progress to that  【 wordcount 】 1.4k

Dean was pissed off and hungry, the cherry on top of the shit pie he’s been eating for the past three Wednesdays in a row. He knew it the moment he woke up the second day, but stubbornly tried to just not believe it was actually happening. Today, however, it was clear he really was living the same day over and over again. Better yet, Sam was two towns over at the nearest college researching with some professor for the case they originally came here for. In yesterday's frustrations he discovered not only that his phone didn’t work, but he couldn’t leave this town either. Three hours spent speeding along back roads just to be warped back into town, at the same random, quiet neighborhood street each time. 

 Wherever that trickster god was, hiding and delighting in Dean’s frustration, would have a world of wrath to deal with once Dean found him.

Sitting in a booth at Daybreak Diner, he watched everyone move in the same patterns as the days before. Old guy knocking over a cup of coffee, the couple in the corner laughing obnoxiously, a cook calling out ‘order up’.

That is until an abnormality rings throughout the diner. The bell chimes, at 8:36am. That was not part of the pattern. His grumpy eyes dart to the entrance, watching carefully as you rush through the diner. 

“I’m so sorry I'm late, Bets,” you sigh to another waitress, “I’ve been having the strangest morning.” 

For the past three days you have followed the same script, quietly taking orders with a sweet smile. He had certainly noticed you, in fact the only part of this mess he enjoyed was that he got to flirt with you twice and still got the same coy smile each time. 

He watches as you frantically tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears, quickly pin your name tag to the little dark blue dress uniform that matched the other waitresses. The way it fit snug against your body did not go unnoticed by Dean. 

None of this should be happening, he thought. When your eyes finally lifted, you caught his stare and he quickly diverted, focusing on the plate of half eaten food in front of him. A moment later, you were standing at his table with your little notepad and pen. 

“Can I get you anything?” You ask, voice sounding more meek than it did yesterday. 

“No,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I, uh, I thought you were working over there today.” He nods towards the opposite side of the diner. 

“I do, I mean, Wednesdays I take that side but today I’m over here. I’m always over here on Thursdays.” Your brows knit together, assessing the man, “I don’t remember telling you that yesterday, though.” 

So she does remember, he thought to himself and a wave of relief ripples through his body. The feeling quickly turns cold as he realizes that means whoever this poor girl is, she’s caught the eye of the trickster god. Now, Dean’s rage is turning white hot considering whatever perverse scheme she’s falling victim to. 

“No, you didn’t.” He answers curtly, “but I think you’ve noticed something’s off about today.” 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and pray that what you’re about to say doesn’t make you sound insane. You slip into the booth across from Dean, leaning across the table so no one can overhear your conversation. 

“I think I am losing my mind,” you start with big scared eyes, “I swear on my life I am reliving Wednesday. I didn’t notice until the radio station started talking about the weather and shit for ‘this beautiful Wednesday, best autumn day we’ve had all season’ which I heard them say—verbatim—yesterday.” you drop your head into your hands.

Dean goes to respond, to assure you that you are not losing your mind, when you cut him off with a loud huff. “I shook that off thinking I must still be asleep or something but then,” your eyes manage to grow wider, and Dean takes note of how you’re able to be both cute and completely wigged out of your mind, “I go outside to see my car with a flat tire that I literally just got fixed yesterday.” You pause long enough for Dean to raise his eyebrows and stare with disbelief, you really are stuck here with him. 

“Great,” you groan, “you think I’m losing my mind—  hell I think I’m losing it.” 

“No, you’re not. Actually the truth is probably worse than having a few screws loose.” He chuckles, quickly clearing his throat and wiping away that smile as your face contorts between bewilderment and horror. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” you squeak, suddenly feeling clammy and hot. 

“It means,” he strains, “you’re stuck in a time loop. Living the same day over and over, crafty work of a little bitch in the trickster god variety. At least that’s the only monster I know of that has the kinda juice to pull this sorta thing.” 

You stare blankly into the green eyes before you, reading his face, waiting for that handsome smile and some weird punch line. But he just returns your blank look, completely unphased by the absolute nonsense he’s just rambled out. He swallows uncomfortably, “You’re still breathing, right?” he tries, worry lacing his strong features. 

Slowly, you nod your head. It doesn’t make sense. It sounds like magic, or the work of fiction, but you’re also not quite sure how else to explain what’s happening. 

“Sweetheart,” Dean coos, “you’re kinda scaring me here, say something to me. Something, anything.” He’s used to giving the talk to civilians, it’s part of the job after all. But in all his years of navigating this world, nothing comes close to being trapped in a time loop, stuck within a set of coordinates, with a pretty girl who looks as if she’s about to pass out.  

“Trick-er god? Monster? And time loop?” Now your head was starting to hurt, working to wrap logic around the situation, “Wait, yesterday you said you were an fbi agent, is this what the government is doing?” 

Dean’s heart drops, completely forgetting he had mentioned that when flirting his way to getting your number on a napkin. “Right,” he laughs uncomfortably, “about that, I’m not. I’m a hunter. I hunt things, monsters, that do things like this to people like you.” 

A sort of relief hits you, wrangling with the fear of this newfound knowledge. If there is anyone to get stuck in a time loop with, surely someone who takes care of these sorts of things, isn’t the worst scenario. 

“Okay,” you nod, “So there are monsters. One of which is doing all of this,” you motion a circle in the air, “and you’re the kinda guy who fixes it. And lies about being a federal agent, for some reason.” You recount with a furrowed brow. 

“Uh huh,” he smiles, “so, don’t you worry, I’ll get us out of this.” With that Dean stands from the booth, dropping a few bills on the table.

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask, quickly leaving the booth. 

He looks down at you, “To go gank the son of a bitch that’s doing all this. Gotta find him first though.” Dean sighs. 

“Well, I’m going with you.” You assure. A smile tugs at his lips, while he wouldn’t mind spending more time watching you stumble your way through understanding his world, he’d never jeopardize the safety of someone with absolutely zero awareness of what kind of danger comes with hunting. 

“No way,” he shakes his head, a large hand reaching up to pat your head, “a pretty thing like you has no business around monsters and weapons. Stay alive for one last Wednesday and by tomorrow you’ll be back to your regularly scheduled life.” 

“Nuh, uh,” you press, swatting away his hand, “what if the god thing comes here when you leave, huh? Are you really gonna leave me alone and defenseless in this little diner?” Your doe eyes bat up at him, silently pleading that he doesn’t leave you on your own. 

He can’t deny you raise a good point. If you’re in his sights, there’s less of a chance the trickster might try to use your life as leverage. Besides, he can always cuff you to the steering wheel if he really needs to. Finally, Dean sighs, “Fine. But you do as I say, no questions asked, got it?” 

A bright smile breaks across your face, sending jolts straight into Dean’s chest. Great, as if he hasn’t got enough to worry about with hunting down the god, he’s gotta ignore the incredibly distracting feelings you seem to spark with just a pretty smile. 

[missmarveledsblog]

In love with its fate series and the oneshots can you do a hc or oneshot of how bradley proposed also nicknaming her sunny genius cause hes rooster and shes sunshine 😭😭😭💓💓

of course i will i touched on it lightly in Brooster but here's the full story of how brooster propose to the future mrs sunny bradshaw.

Soon to be Mrs Brooster

summary : rooster finally plans to put a ring on sunny's finger

warning : tooth rotten fluff , rooster being a simp

He was waiting for this , probably since the first moment he actually met her , talked to her.  He was ready to ask the moment their first date was ended but he bided his time much to everyone surprise bradley lasted two years before he was doing what they honestly thought was going to happen much sooner . a week back from their trip from visiting her parents and getting one of the most important yes which was their permission to ask her to be his. To finally make y/n “ sunny “ seresin his soon to be wife ( officially ) .  he couldn’t imagine his life not having this woman in his life from her laugh to her putting him and jake in their place ( he wouldn’t be surprised if mav had her on speed dial ) .  He went through so many ways to do it from writing it in the sky ,  on the beach as they flown above to even doing it in the hard deck randomly but none of that felt much right so he decided to bring it back to the first date , that night was something he would never forget he really pulled out all the stops and never stopped but that night was one both his and her favourites .  thanksgiving had just ended and christmas was now the next one , he could wait til then but he was sure he would explode if he was to do so . He had all hands on deck , from jake help as much as he love to annoy rooster he would help with anything he knew would make his little sister happy  even if that was actually rooster. 

The coming day bradley  was practising what to say wondering what would sound best but nothing was fitting , nothing stood out . then trying to get everything like it was that night felt impossible  the lights and candles seemed to needing to be replaced but yet out of stock giving christmas was the next approaching holiday . it was like everything was against the whole idea even jake was going out of his way to get what was needed. It wasn’t til the day before when nat and bob ran into the hangar panting and sweating holding boxes and bags in their hands . 

“ we got them , well nat got them , she almost beat up an old lady “ bob gulp when she glared at him. 

“ you’re welcome bradshaw also name that first born after me and we call it even”  she shrugged ignoring the look of slight fear and impressed that pete michell was giving her . 

“ not up to me but i’ll let sunny know … well if she says yes .. shit what if she doesn’t say yes” he went to from happy to panicking  in a spilt second all the nerves hitting in the one second making him to want to explode and every fear coming to the surface .  irrational fear not that he could see how much his love is returned  or how she was  just as crazy about him , no sense or reason could reach this man in the spiral of what if that spun around his head .   the face of fear and everything that was neighbouring on his face as the dagger squad offered reassurance . It was like something between the chaos and the signs of the universe  or grace of god that sunny walked into the door holding something as simple as his lunch and moment she saw him distressed and upset even not having a clue what was really going on, yet she ran to his side instantly hands on each cheek , she was speaking barely register til he saw the worry and concern all over her face .  pure love  in her eyes grounding him , melting every  bad negative feelings like a universal fate filled sign this was meant to be.  Feeling himself come back to his senses just by her touch not that it need to be said but he was truly and completely in love with this woman . 

“ brooster baby you  ok ?” her voice that sweet sugar sweet voice hitting his ears making him feel like he could breathe again .   

“ yeah it i’m ok just tough week is all “ a smile on his face he wasn’t completely lying he staying up a bit later  making sure everything would be perfect . 

“ why don’t you take rest of day off , we don’t have much to do today “ Mav smiled softly , he always did in a sense they were so similar to carole and nick in the way they were so taken with each other but yet so different in a way too. 

“ thank you pete , i’ll make sure he gets some rest “ she beamed not even waiting for her man to respond even when she threw his keys to nat . almost pulling him out of the bunker not taking any excuse that was bound to come out of his mouth nope she was not having it that’s for sure  not that he could , as much as he would work to the bone to make sure she was ok he did enjoy when she would look after him too something he had to get used to since most women before were so different  not that it was bad but it wasn’t like this . 

The day before the engagement maybe was something he needed that sort of reset and refresh now that he was looking back. But it also just made him want to do it more , it gave him the perfect idea’s that were staring him back in the face . as he sat in their shared space , their home . her little knick knacks that placed around the place , little cushions and pieces that made it a home. Something he thought he made it a home but clearly it was not like that until she came along and showed him how much of a home this house could be .   things that brighten up the area sort of like a representation of how she brightened up his life.   She busied herself while he was sitting eating the lunch she warmed up for him then once he was finished she led him up to the bathroom  only for him to see the bathroom covered in the scented candles , the scents of lavender and chamomile that hit his nose , a kiss on his cheek placing the beer on the side of the tub and heading off once more leaving him pouting that she wasn’t going to be joining him .  when he was out , clean and relaxed in every sense to see his pyjamas that he only ever wore as sort of lounge clothes .  only coming down to the living room more and more each thing she was doing was making it easier and easier for what he would do the next day .  eating dinner watching his comfort movies and comfort foods little things to put his overworked brain to rest. 

That morning rooster woke knew lease of life , knowing what he wanted to do and how to make it perfect for his girl. Letting her sleep he crept from the bed slowly got dressed headed to the cafe the one where the first properly talked got to know each other  . getting her a coffee and alongside her favourite pastry then he got breakfast on way home with her favourite flowers . waking her up with kisses all over her face looking down at  the smile on her sleepy face was something that always made his day better , if he woke in a foul mood all he would need to rectify that was seeing her smile . Then they went to the beach  like it was just a normal day but he knew it wasn’t , the dagger squad. Then for lunch he brought her to her favourite place seeing her excitement was always a highlight in his week. Then at home again like normalish  day maybe the fact he was spoiling her a little extra was there but he would shrug it off and say she deserved it  or when he told her they had a surprise date to which she excitedly expressed she got to wear the new dress she gotten the other day with nat for, one he got nat to bring her own  .  every single time she would leave him lost for words but then again it could be a potato sack and she would look the most beautiful woman to ever walk gods green earth.  

That night was like so many date only more special since it was the very restaurant they went to for their first date. She told him of her christmas plans for her kindergarteners all the fun and magic she wanted to give them before they were off for christmas as well as some plans for their own christmas like going to virginia so bradley could see his parents .

“ we can go texas for christmas “ he shrugged it  off. 

“ nah i already told my mama she got us for thanksgiving  , ok i may of booked the rental house which jake paid for  and  i will get our food in advance and have it brought with us “ she beamed. “ least this time you won’t be alone when you go and you get to spend christmas with your folks in a way “ she kissed his hand holding it close. 

“ you would spend your christmas in a graveyard just so i could have christmas with my parents?”. 

“ brooster radley bradley  i would spend christmas  in a dive bar in middle of nowhere if it was something you wanted but it not that it’s spending time with people you love whatever shape or form which is more important “ she giggled . 

“ i wish they got you meet you because jesus christ baby you are most perfect woman i’ve ever met you know that” he smiled feeling his eyes misty and lump in his throat , 

“ i wish i could of met em too , thank them for bringing such a handsome , funny man like you into the world , oh  it was suppose to be a surprise so can’t tell jake i told you apparently your not allowed to know he likes you” she shook her head wiping the few tears falling down his face  not knowing more would come then once dinner was done they headed to what she thought was the hard deck to finish the night off .  only for him to  to bring her near the entrance again tricking her then moving to toward the beach that sat behind .   the light and candle seemed even more magical she couldn’t place her finger on why but it was even more fairytale like than that night .   the add rose petal that place everywhere leading them to the sand except this time it wasn’t a speaker that await for them but a live music . he may of pulled a favor or two getting couple of people he knew could play their favourite songs .  it something she would of never experience in her life and yet with brooster radly bradley bradshaw he made those things possible .  the moonlight high in the sky hitting the water so beautifully . he held his hand out to her sway  wanting to capture the way she looked in that very moment burn the image into his mind for the rest of his life , the sound of her laugh when he twirl her around . this was it  granted he had both knees on the ground fixing himself and the confused on her face then the realisation when he pulled the ring out.

“ baby i can’t imagine what i did in this life to even begin to figure out how i got  lucky to get a girl like you in my life , ever since i was a little boy my mom told me of  soul mates , how i was going to find the woman of my dreams  and i would be so in love and i thought she finally was going off her rocker than i started seeing this absolutely breathtaking beauty everywhere and i was a goner and then i met her over coffee even though her brother warned me to stay away “ he chuckled and she shook her head but tear falling down her face . “ but i couldn’t not when i talked more and more with this beautiful way out of my league kindergarten teacher who just make the world so much better and brighter by being in it the love i have for you is the love my mom told me about all those years , the one that finally made me think i deserve love , one that without even thinking would spend her day to make me feel better or is willing to spend her christmas in a grave yard just so i can see my parents. Baby there is and never will be anyone in this world that i would or could spend the rest of my life with  than you and i don’t know how i waited so  long to do this but please would you do me the honor and marry me ?” he voice cracked looking up to see her tear filled face and smile so wide. 

“ yess i will marry you bradley radley brooster “ letting him place the ring on her finger what he didn’t expect was her to dive on him there and then excitedly on the sand kissing all over his face . “ i love you so much “ was all she could get out of her mouth before his lips crashed into hers .   he said it from day one she was going to be the future misses bradshaw and she always hope she would be mrs bradley radley  brooster .

[psychopomparia]

Drew two of my Honkai Star Rail OCs as those bean cake cats from the new event. We shall call them Dark Chocolate Cherry Cat and Grass Jelly Cat

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

reader x dog shifter 141 [pt.2]

(If you haven't seen it yet, here's part one.)

It’s been a couple weeks, and you’re starting to catch on to just how smart your dogs are.

Not that you know what they actually are—but they’ve got this weirdly human intelligence behind their eyes, and weirdly human personalities. The Great Dane likes to sit on the recliner in your living room, regal and commanding, often watching your front yard whenever the gardener would come over. The gardener’s son replaced him once for a job, leaving grass cuttings in the driveway, and he was all huffy about it. It amused you at first, but then you realized his judgement wasn’t reserved for strangers. He was even more huffy the time you accidentally burned a steak. (Jeez, since when was he a dad?) Not to mention the empty whiskey glasses he likes to keep around, but that's not right—dogs can't have alcohol, can they?

The German Shepherd, on the other hand, is surprisingly clingy—but not in a bump-into-your-leg or overtly cuddly kind of way. Instead, he follows you while never begging for attention, attentive and patient as though a soldier awaiting orders. You’ve been jump-scared one too many times by his presence, when you think you’re alone and he appears out of thing air. A massive giant of a dog, with paws as silent as a shadow. And he’s stubborn—doesn’t initiate contact, but you swear you’ve caught a subtle bashful glance. Especially when you scratch behind his ears and along the scar of his cheek and chin.

But what the Shepherd lacks in open affection, the Labrador makes up tenfold. He doesn't pester about it, though, simply hopping up to your side on the couch to curl up or placing his muzzle on top of your knees. Still, while probably the most obedient out of the four, you’ve seen him get roped into food heists with the Foxhound, or stalking as closely and silently as the Shepherd. Very much the little brother who tags along with whatever. But you can't stay mad at him for long, either—not when he knows how to apologize—bringing you a freshly chomped-off flower from the backyard whenever you get mad. Then he'll sit at your heels with a faint tail wag, whining 'til you're settled and appeased.

The Foxhound is perhaps the most talkative, in both a noisy and conversational way. His joy is unrelenting around you, and he greats you like you’d expect any other dog. Still, he’s awfully communicative. It’s how you’ve learned their names—with you wandering aloud what to call them, and him making faces at every suggestion. He eventually settled for playing retriever: playing charades by bringing you back bottles and bars of soap. For the Great Dane, he grabbed an old receipt from the trash. For the Shepherd, he threw on a sheet. He seemed awfully confused on what to do for the Labrador, though, and just kept whining as if in apology.

“So Soap, Price, Ghost, and…,” you trail off, glancing at the Labrador with a slight pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I really don’t know what to call you. And Soap here seems like he’s run out of braincells.”

Ghost snorts in amusement, which is returned by Soap’s unfettered glare.

The next morning, though, there really is no explanation as to how Soap learned the alphabet, how to write, or to arrange your bedsheets in the following name: GAZ.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

"Aha... what the fuck."

Price has face-palmed (face-pawed?) and Ghost just walks over and calmly almost slapstick-esque baps Soap on the head. Meanwhile, Gaz looks dejected, pressing his forehead to the front door, like he's expecting you to kick them out in the next five seconds.

Not that you would, of course—but we can queue the mild horror and existential questioning of what the hell these dogs actually are. You call your friend to rant about your theory—that they could be escapees from a top secret government laboratory, or spies from another country. She just says to enter them into a dog show, or make ‘em celebrities on social media.

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don���t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

[zorobff]

how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!” 

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 

“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?” 

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

[reidrum]

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai!GNreader X Yandere DC

Mix of neglected batfam and based of port mafia dazai with a small slice of ada dazai

Forgotten child

Pro. (You are here) Ch.1 Ch.2

A bastard is what you are

You were a result of a one night stand between Bruce Wayne and your mother who you don’t or will ever know the name of.

How’d you know his your father? A simple DNA test.

Who would’ve thought that a child of a billionaire Bruce Wayne would ended up in the mafia.

As much as you want to know more about your mother, it was quickly dialed down by one sentence.

“Traitors doesn’t deserve to have their name pass down”

Mori isn’t really the best person to look up to

You were at the very least 5 or older when the GCPD took you away, you don’t remember.

Alfred was the one who pick you up from the investigation.

He remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

You, a malnourished child who stayed still, staring into the darkness with no light in their eyes, bandages covering you.

It was a pity sight.

A few calling of your name to realized it time to go to your new ‘home’

You move as if you’re not even human, instead a doll who was abandoned and left to rot.

With what left of your belongings, if you even had any, Alfred with his gentle nature guided you to the car.

You didn’t even made a breathing sound, only blinking and constant fidgeting to your doll.

He tried his best to struck up a conversation with you, such as “how are you?” Yet only to be replied back with either a deafening silence or words barely above a whisper.

You were a child yet have suffered so much beyond to see the light of hope.

Only when you’ve arrived at the manor is when you started clinging more to him. Maybe it your nature as a child to be nervous to go to your new home.

With what left of your innocence, you looked up to him with a pleading look , “don’t…. Don’t let go please….”

Your voice was hoarse and dehydrated but it still sounded as if you were afraid of being left alone.

Probably the effect of losing the only person whom you know and trust.

When you cling onto him is when he took note of your entire appearance.

Yes you were covered in bandages but those bandages were not only dirty but also covered in red streaks of blood and was layered below the fresh white one.

Your clothes had some torn at end, hair being messy and full of knots, sections of your skin having bruises.

Alfred was more than ready to hold your hand while guiding you to wherever you two go together.

Yes the absent of your family saddened you but Alfred company was what you wanted.

You didn’t care for the others, not when they ignore you 90% of the time and not when Alfred is there with whenever he has the chance.

In your mind, Bruce Wayne is not your father no, instead it was Alfred Pennyworth.

But even that doesn’t stop you from being what you are now.

Bruce Wayne, the man who is your supposed father. Do you hate him? Not really.

You can’t really hate a man you barely know your whole life.

And it wasn’t hard to learn what does he do for a living other than being a man whore.

He bare- actually never even had a proper conversation that lasted more than 3 seconds.

The dude didn’t even notice the increasing amount of bandages when you first stared in the port mafia.

Richard Grayson, the second person to talk to you after Alfred. Do you also hate him? A mix feeling really.

You know about him more than you know about Bruce, on what he doing when he’s Nightwing, what he’s favourite food, and just the minimalist stuff.

You don’t exactly have the right feeling to describe your relationship with him.

Do you talk? Barely. Do you have a proper conversation? Never. Spend time together? Nope.

In short, you don’t think the two of you are fitted to be considered siblings.

Jason Todd, was probably the closest to you.

You saw him being taken in as a robin and died as a robin.

Yes you two mocked eachother in terms of whatever you can remember but at the very least there was interactions between the two of you in comparison to the others.

As much as you hated it, you did infact miss his presence when he died.

Timothy Drake was the most distant than all of them combine. The two of you didn’t have a single conversation or even a single sentence to eachother.

You knew well he’s a fan of Batman and probably didn’t even knew you existed or just didn’t care since you’re not one of the vigilante.

Not that you care, you never identify yourself as a Wayne anyway

Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon…… how should you describe them….

Just like Tim, you don’t exist in their world, but instead a background character.

You were sure that they can’t even remember your name properly without mispronouncing.

But You do sure as hell do love it when you’re given a nickname by someone

Last of all, Your half Brother. Damian Wayne, as much as the two of you barely talk, the first meeting wasn’t very welcoming.

Almost being impaled doesn’t give out a nice first impression after all.

You mostly try your best to ignore the insults and the degrading words from him.

The little kid barely met you yet for some reason hold a deep hatred for you like you did something illegal.

You’re currently standing in front of a grave….. someone who was there to take care of you in the port mafia.

You stare blankly at the grave, not knowing what to do, wether to breakdown and cry or to leave it alone.

You were trembling, sweating and on the verge of actually breaking down yet something is holding you back.

Oda Sakunosuke

Your father figure after Alfred is dead.

Ango is right by your side trying his best to comfort you.

As much as you were a demon prodigy, he knew that deep down there’s a child who’s unable to act like one.

You shrugged him off before walking away to do a phone call.

“Alfred….? I know it’s a sudden but…. Please clean up my room…… I no longer staying at the manor from now on”

You try your best to held in your tears but your voice betrays you, and Alfred knows that.

He swallow a lump in his throat before replying, “don’t worry Master [N], I understand. But do please remember that I will always be there to welcome you”

He was the only one who knows about your work in the Port Mafia and the only one who you trusted to told it too.

He knows about the people you met and the people who you befriended.

He understands how a death of one of them can put you on the verge of losing what left in your humanity and to live.

And he knows that the death of your second father figure can cause you distorted in many ways.

Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvampire silly little bat.

[stunie]

“FIRST TIME’S GOTTA BE SOFT!”

WIND BREAKER + SOFT SEX. ft. togame jo, kiryu mitsuki, hayato suo, & sakura haruka x f!reader

req 1 ﾉreq 2 ﾉ nsfw + explicit smut ﾉ contains : dry humping, praise, very mild teasing, overstim, you cum from just putting it in, size kink / big dick!togame, fingering, squirting, pet names

TOGAME JO.

“Gotta relax,” Togame coos from just above you, leaning down onto his forearms to press hot kisses against the side of your neck. “And just lemme in, yeah?”

You take in a sharp breath, embrace tightening around your boyfriend’s neck as he sinks himself deeper inside, inch by inch. Your thighs are trembling atop his shoulders as you try your hardest to just relax and let him in like he said, ignoring how your cunt feels so impossibly full— and oh- he’s only halfway in.

You always knew Togame was a big person, and that it implied he would be big there…but actually trying to take him was a completely different story. You think he might actually be splitting you in half.

“J-Jo,” your eyes clench shut as you whimper. “Big…”

“Shhh, shh, shh,” he coos softly against your sensitive skin before he’s messily kissing and licking at your neck in an attempt to distract you from the agonizing stretch. “I know. ‘S okay, doll. Doing so good for me.”

“So big…” you repeat, voice sounding just as cute as always to him, so sweet and syrupy and innocent— even when you’re practically being folded underneath him like this. His cock suddenly reaches a particularly sensitive spot inside you, and you cry out, walls instinctively clenching tightly around his length.

And you think the growl that rips out of togame is borderline carnal. “Oh, fuck,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Careful. Don’t do tha— don’t squeeze me in like that.”

“S-sorry,” you pant, arms wrapped around him tightly. You think you might be feeling dizzy, or maybe just sensitive— it feels weird. Electrifying. You can feel everything so vividly right now, and maybe it’s because you’ve never taken anything this big inside, but the way your core has balled up into such a tight and intense knot is different than usual.

“Jo…..wai—”

“Shit, doll,” he’s snarling from above you. “Not letting me in.. just a little more, ‘kay?”

The knot seems to tighten up impossibly more when he pushes a bit forward, and your eyes widen, the realization suddenly hitting you like a truck. “Wait!”

Your words come out a second too late, and he’s already pushing the last few inches inside all at once. He presses up against the spot that makes you gasp, vision clouded with white as the knot in your core abruptly snaps, head falling back as you scream.

“Whoa— whoa, you’re…? ” Togame stiffens up, eyes blown wide when your walls violently clench around him before you’re suddenly gushing, juices coating his cock and thighs in a messy layer of slick.

You’re gasping under him, chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high, and a part of him wishes he could have gone back in time and recorded that. He would’ve caught the way your face contorted at the fullness and catch how you’re looking now— eyes half lidded as you pant and tremble.

It would’ve been such a treat to save a video like that.

He’s suddenly aching, and he thinks that just sitting inside you like this wasn’t gonna be enough for him now. Togame’s looming back over you in an instant, labored breaths just above you as you peer up at him through teary eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” you start babbling. “Was just too much. Came so fast- I-”

“Haven’t even moved yet, doll,” he lulls, the amusement in his eyes obvious from the way he’s watching your lips press into a nervous line. “Too early for you to be squirting on me, don’t you think?”

The burn on your cheeks worsens, and you think you could die of embarrassment— but the excited flutter of your walls is practically shameless, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Feeling good on my dick?”

“..Good enough for another one?”

Your eyes widen, and he’s pulling out slowly until just the tip is inside before he slams back, and the noise you choke out has his cock just twitching in anticipation.

“Let me join you this time, yeah?”

KIRYU MITSUKI.

“My pretty girl,” Kiryu smiles when you perk up at the nickname. “Are you nervous?”

His voice is a soft whisper against the shell of your ear, hands steady on your hips as he guides you back and forth across his cock, your slick coating him in thick and messy layers. “Just a little bit..” you mumble, face buried deep into the crook of his neck.

You’re so wet. You were never this wet when you touched yourself, and truth be told, you didn’t know it was possible to be this soaked. The sounds of your pants and Kiryu’s deep sighs are drowned out by the lewd noises your cunt is making when you’re humping so desperately against him, face contorting each time your clit grinds against his tip.

He hasn’t even gone inside you. Not his fingers, not his cock. Nothing— and you’re aching so badly for it.

“Ah!” You gasp when his cock suddenly twitches against you, slapping against your clit before he’s pulling you right back down, moving you back and forth with a little more urgency this time.

“Ah, sorry,” Kiryu’s chuckle comes out strained, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s a little hard to control myself, I guess. You just feel so good, love. Can’t help it..”

A part of you is thankful that his lights are off. the faint glow of Kiryu’s gaming leds are just barely enough to illuminate the two of you, and it gives you the courage you need to sneak glances downwards, eyes catching the way the muscles of his arms flex as he guides your hips back and forth.

It’s only when your gaze shifts further downwards that you notice it. Tue subtle flex of his abs, and just below, his hips. Completely soaked in your slick. Were you really that wet? Your thighs are also trembling more wildly now, and you’re unsure if it’s because you’ve been hovering over him for so long or if it’s because he feels so good against you.

Another part of you thinks it’s because of nerves— his voice sending a shiver straight down your spine each time he whispers something so lewd into your ears.

“I-it’s okay,” you stutter, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “Want more, Suki.”

“Hmmm?” His hum comes out amused. “More? Can you handle more?”

He chuckles a bit when you nod without even a small trace of hesitation. “But you’re shaking so much.”

Kiryu is certain he’s fallen in love with you all over again. His gaze softens at the sight of you, watching with a smile as your shaky hands move to shyly line his cock up with your hole, thighs trembling even harder trying to keep balance without his help. It’s only a few seconds later when you’re letting out a distracted whine, pleading eyes coming to lock with his. “Suki..”

“I know. Leave everything to me, angel,” he says with a soft smile, grunting when he adjusts his position on his mattress, hands coming to steady your hips.

“Let me know if it's too much, okay?”

HAYATO SUO.

“Mmm,” Suo lets out a slow hum from beside you, chin rested gently atop your shoulder and his eyes fixated on the way his fingers are moving in and out of your dripping cunt. “I don’t think you’re quiet ready yet.”

Your eyebrows furrow— not ready? This had to be the third, or maybe even the fourth. You’ve lost count of the exact number of orgasms he’s pulled from you tonight with just his fingers, but you’re certain it was more than enough to prep you.

“No….” your protest comes out strained, voice weak and weary, but your cunt seems to be the opposite— still greedy, still eagerly swallowing his fingers whole and sucking him right back inside each time he’s trying to pull them back. You’re gushing with every curl of his fingers, slick lewdly dripping onto your mattress to form a puddle right beneath the two of you.

“Please….need you— need you so bad,” you babble, unsure if your words are coming out coherent with how hot your head feels. “Please, please, please.”

His lips tug into a gentle smile, eyes softening at your current state. “..And what is it that you need?”

He’s feigning innocence, but he swears he’s not being mean to you. He would never, not when you’re asking him so sweetly, crystalline tears collecting along your lashes from the overstimulation— but he knows the extent of your greed. fingers aren’t enough for you.

“Y-you. Need you.”

The soft chuckle that leaves his lips has your cheeks filling with heat, but you don’t get to wallow in embarrassment— not when you’re gasping loudly as soon as he’s pressing against your ass, heavy cock rubbing against you. He feels so big against you, and you think your senses have been heightened from how clearly you can feel each and every vein on his cock drag along your skin.

“This?” he asks. “You can have it. I’m yours, after all.”

You’re quick to shake your head, looking almost too innocent for someone who’s making such a mess on your sheets just for some dick— and he hasn’t even stuffed you full yet.

“No— not like that. Need it inside..” you whisper, voice trailing off into a needy and frustrated whine.

“Oh? You meant inside?”

You ignore the way your cheeks burn at the suggestion, head nodding desperately. He’s humming when his hands come to delicately circle at your clit, cock slick with your juices when he finally prods at your hole. It’s slow and steady when he pushes inside, forcing himself deeper and deeper as your eyes widen, strained moan ripping from your throat at the stretch.

“You should have specified, love,” he coos, but his voice comes out a little breathless from the way you’re squeezing him. It takes everything in him to go slow for you— inch inside until his cock is finally nestling against your cervix, and oh- you’ve never felt so stuffed.

“You okay?” Suo exhales shakily, hands subconsciously tightening their grip around your hips.

You’re barely able to choke out a “w-wait,” tired eyes narrowing and blinking to rid of the dizzying stars dotting your vision. “‘M not sure.”

Suo’s lips are back on your neck the next second, planting a wet trail of kisses up the skin as you shiver beneath his hold. “You can handle me, pretty girl. I know you can. I’m already inside, aren’t I?”

Your walls flutter eagerly against him at the sound of his voice just beside your ear, and you nod, mumbling something about how you wanna try, and that he feels so good— you just aren’t sure you can take it.

“Sure you can. And you know exactly what to say if it’s too much, don’t you? My sweet girl.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

Sakura’s hands roughly slam beside your head, face contorting to a grimace as he inches inside, your walls sucking him up with desperation. His face is red with heat, jaw clenched so hard that he thinks he can hear the way his teeth are grinding against each other— but you just feel so good. He’s drunk on the feeling, and he hasn’t even gone all the way in yet.

“Ah—!” You gasp when his hips stutter against you, the rest of his length slamming inside as he chokes out a strained groan.

He never would have guessed that he’d be buried in your cunt by the end of today. It started off as a sweet movie date, with you cuddled against his side as you shared snacks. He doesn’t quite remember how that led to such a heated make out session, or how the two of you starting marking each other up— lips attached to the other’s neck, or even how that led to desperately grinding against each other … and now he’s sinking his cock into you.

“S-shit, sorry,” he sputters, hands balling into fists as he forces himself to keep still. His cock twitches once, twice, so eager and desperate for more of you— but he holds himself back. He would never ever dream of hurting you.

“Did that hurt..?”

You shake your head.

“Need you, Haru,” you whine, and your arms reach to wrap around his neck, pulling him flush against you— but you accidentally pull him deeper inside, both pairs of eyes widening when his cock roughly shoves against the deepest spot inside you.

“Fuck—” his voice is just above a growl. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“But I want all of y-you,” your voice is so sweet, so soft, and it’s a challenge for him for hold back the knot threatening to snap in his core. You feel so damn good, so fucking good— he just can’t handle it.

“No,” he protests, lips parted in heavy pants. “Don’t know if i can hold myself back if you act like that.”

[sacharinee]

pairing: bf!peter x reader

synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time

wc: 630 ish

a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D

there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.

“pete,” you whisper.

peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.

your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.

ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.

it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.

a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(

but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.

this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.

in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”

“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.

“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.

“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.

his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.

peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”

you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”

not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”

he scoffs, “oh yea?”

“yea. a total pain in the-”

peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”

you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.

[g0dlyunsub]

don't pretend.

spencer can see through all of your lies, including the bruises you’re hiding behind makeup.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of prisons, physical violence, bruises, reader gets injured, patching up, fluff

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: oh, looks like i’ve spawned another hurt/comfort fic yet again…

accompanying song :: who hurt you by role model

you’re an ambitious profiler. 

you’re such an ambitious profiler that you interview offenders with the most extensive list of records whenever you have time. you want to understand more than just the simple question of why they did it. you want to explore the how’s and what if’s.

and you’re soft-hearted, so much so that you jeopardize your own safety. 

things should’ve gone smoothly with your fifth and last inmate of the week, had you been a little more aware of your surroundings.

but you placed too much faith on your ability to make peace with the man who unyieldingly worshiped violence.

that was your only mistake, but it was a costly one. 

you had kindly asked the guard to release the handcuffs, even though he insisted that they stay on. 

it’s alright, you told him with the wave of your hand. 

but you should’ve noticed the look of challenge on the inmate’s face. it was like he was taunting you, almost as if to say, do you really feel safe being in the same room as me?

it was your soft-heartedness that almost got you severely injured. 

he managed to land punches to your left cheek and scratched his nails into the flesh of your leg as he fell, right as he was tackled to the ground. 

he laughed when he saw you holding your hand against your throbbing cheek.

you arrive at the office as early as you can, a layer of makeup thicker than usual coating the bruise swelling your left cheek. 

you pretend to bury your head in the case file that you retrieved from your desk when the rest of the team started to flood into the room.

when spencer arrives, he gives you a nod and gleefully chirps good morning as he takes his seat beside you. 

spencer knows your routine like the back of his palm – he knows you’re busy with interviews at the federal prison on saturdays and sundays, and he knows you always need a caffeine boost the next morning. you gladly accept the cup of coffee that he sets in front of your hands with a small smile.

as hotch is debriefing the case with garcia, however, you can’t help but feel his eyes drilling into the side of your face, as if he can see through your cover. 

your makeup can’t be that obvious, right?

your thoughts are interrupted when hotch closes the cover of his case file, stands, and announces wheels up in 20. 

you lift yourself with the support of the table and wait for everyone else to exit before you follow, doing your best to disguise the limp in your walk.

---

“alright. jj and prentiss, go to the morgue. morgan and reid, go to the crime scene. dave, you and l/n can set up with the local p.d. i’ll go talk to the victims’ families.”

as hotch assigns roles to the team, everyone nods when their names are called out. but spencer raises his hand slightly and clears his throat.

“actually, hotch, do you mind if i switch with rossi and set up with l/n and the locals instead?”

hotch hesitates for a second, but nods slowly. 

“sure. dave, you okay with that?”

the italian agent cocks up a questioning eyebrow but gives a warm smile. “i don’t see why not.”

you’ve never heard spencer contest hotch’s orders before, so you’re stumped as to why he’s suggesting an alternative role this time. but you soon brush off the thought, and decide to occupy your time re-reading the case files before the jet lands.

you sink into your seat with a heavy sigh, forcing your eyes shut as pain travels down your legs. you’re thankful that hotch assigned you to set up at the local p.d., since it doesn’t require much locomotion and spares you the struggle of getting up constantly. you watch as spencer spreads the corners of the map and sticks push pins into the corkboard. 

“how did your interviews go yesterday?” spencer breaks the silence first and moves to grab a red marker. with his practiced hand, he quickly circles the areas of the crime scenes on the map.

you gulp.

“they went pretty well, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

spencer caps the tip, and a click sounds as the plastic edges meet. he nods, wets his lips with his tongue, and turns to look at you. you meet his gaze for a brief second before you look away, pretending to busy yourself with the m.e. reports that jj sent over.

“green neutralizes red.”

his sudden remark startles you. you drop the papers in your hands and look up. “i’m sorry?”

“green contains the wavelengths that are missing in red light, so when they mix, the colors neutralize each other. that’s why concealers with a green base are better at covering up more reddish bruising,” spencer elaborates, and starts to match up the photos of the crime scenes to the locations marked on the map.

you blink. oh.

there’s no way he’s talking about you, right?

“um, yeah, green’s a common color corrector,” you mutter as you nervously tap your fingers against the wooden table. “but there weren’t any bruises or marks of assault on the victims.” 

spencer scoffs as you finish your sentence.

“it’s not about the victims. you. i’m talking about you.” 

you swallow slowly. 

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, a fake smile plastered over your face as you shake your head left and right. 

spencer studies you with a scrutinizing stare, eyes boring into yours like he’s counting the number of times you blink.

“could you grab that for me?” he asks at last, pointing to the book that’s two tables away, the one titled florida’s topography and bathymetry. without thinking, you nod and stand.

fuck.

what a clever way to set you up. now you have to somehow mask the limp in your steps and pretend like the pain coursing through your legs is nonexistent.

you do your best to walk normally, but it’s hard to tell if you’re doing a good job from his unreadable stare. you hold the book out with a bemused smile, hoping it’s enough to cover your pained expression.

he doesn’t look convinced. 

“that,” spencer points to your leg with an accusatory gaze, “why are you walking like that?” 

he swiftly takes the book from you, and your hand instinctively grips the side of the table for support.

“like what?” 

you’re going to make him pry the confession out of you. 

“like you’re hurting,” spencer utters quietly. his last word catches your breath completely.

“is that why you asked rossi to switch with you? so you could interrogate me?” 

“who hurt you?” spencer ignores your question, setting the book aside and leaning over the table to get a closer look at your face. 

instinctively, you retreat and look down, but he walks around the table and kneels in front of you. your brain buzzes with the words he’s just declared. it’s not what did you do, or what happened to you. instead, it’s who hurt you. 

“i… it’s nothing.” you shift in your chair, but he stops the seat from turning completely by laying a hand on the headrest.

“tell me. please.” 

you can’t fake it anymore, especially when he’s already hammered the nail into the hole perfectly.

you rub your sweaty palms on your lap. “one of them tried to hurt me during the interview. i-it was my fault, i asked the guards to take off the cuffs. i thought they’d be more willing to cooperate that way.”

spencer’s expression mellows as you speak, but he doesn’t return a comment. somehow, this makes you even more nervous.

a second after, he lifts his hand and slides a finger along the slightly swollen area of your cheek. he hesitates when you start to wince in pain.

tapping his knee with his index finger, he instructs, “let me take a look at your leg.”

you comply.

when you lift your leg, spencer’s hand slips between the wedge of your platform's heel, and gracefully sets your foot on his knee. 

you observe him gently push the thin fabric of your trousers upwards. you hold your breath when he leans in to inspect closely, and you almost shudder when the vapor of his warm breath tickles the gash on your flared shin. 

spencer steps back to retrieve a first-aid kit lying nearby and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. without saying a single word, he pulls a cotton pad and a gauze roll from the bag.

as he wraps your leg with the gauze, he looks up to meet your lowered gaze.

“tell me his name.”

you bite your lip.

“it’s fine. you should focus on the geo-profile instead.” you exhale as spencer unfolds the rolls on the hem of your trousers to cover your leg again.

“you do know that it won’t take me long to go through every incident report,” he retorts back with a challenging glint in his eye. your cheeks heat up with a hot flush of red.

goddamnit, spencer reid. 

you hastily brush yourself away from him.

“what are you going to do?”

he pauses, every second of silence only feeding your suspicions. you watch the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

“you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

you huff.

“don’t use my words against me.” 

he shrugs with an indifferent expression, but chuckles before standing back up.

“his name. or do we want to do this the hard way?”

[peachesofteal]

Deckhand Simon Riley / female reader 18+ mdni, dubcon. Simon is very no good terrible and kind of mean. Predator/prey. Excessive alcohol consumption, manipulation. Spitting, size, praise, a little bit of breeding/daddy - kink.

Simon arrives to town on the last summer wind. 

It’s cold for the shoulder of the season. Not the coldest he’s ever felt, but cold enough his scars become rigid, inflexible swaths of skin littered across his body pinching at every hinge. 

He can already feel the burn. The stretch and strain of his upper back, his arms, his legs. Can already feel the weight of the pots, sharp metal slamming and crashing, teeming with things that look more like creatures than they do delicacies.

Hook. String. Pull. Block.

The people stare at him, wide, wind whipped eyes peeking out underneath knit wool hems, gagged and confused, whispers passed back and forth like children with a lolly. 

Did you see him? 

Look at the size of ‘im- 

Is that Ernest’s new deckhand? 

Fucking monster of a man, I tell you. 

He keeps his head down. Eyes fixed to the floor, old instinct still churning in his blood, shoulders stiff and squared. Captains are all the same, whether on land or at sea. Says “yes sir” as Ernest sizes him up, asks about his previous two seasons, and then sends him away with a perfunctory nod and a departure date. 

The Old Man leaves in two weeks. See you then.

King crab fishing is the closest he’s felt to having a foot in the grave since he was actually in one. Opponents in a firefight are known, predictable. Monsters of their own kind, but ones he knows intimately. Minds of a killer, the lot of them, a certain subset of consciousness nearly shared. 

The ocean shares its mind with no one. Its secrets are its own, buried in the briny deep, never to be revealed. 

And the Bering-  

The Bering is its own horror. Savage and cruel to those who would tempt it, willing to swallow anything offered and pull it down into fathomless black water. Cold enough to kill a man in seconds. Violent enough to toss them all to sea. 

He’s seen it happen. More than once. The environment is uncontrollable, unpredictable, lethal, and the work is arduous. 

The company is tolerable at best. The season is short, yet taxing. Deckhands live dozens of years, in a few short months. They stare off into nothing, watching the horizon, long gone look in their eye. 

Still, he sees familiar flickers in them, same firelight he’s seen in the many men he’s killed, or worked alongside of. 

At the base of it, these types of men, his kind, are all the same. 

Rabid and dangerous in packs. 

The cove is nearly derelict. The town spills up into white and black spruce, houses nestled in the grove of tree trunks twice Simon’s size, all doors facing the warped and tilted wooden slats of a long-loved dock. 

There isn’t much here, a small grocery, a liquor store, a petrol station and of course- 

A pub. 

Aptly named The Wharf, the bar is as old hat as they come, seedy and sticky, sunken into the soft earth. It’s everything he’s come to expect in a fishing town this far up north, where the season is variable, and the money is too. Dark wood from floor to ceiling, over polished oak horseshoe, neglected stools and booths. Everything creaks, and The Wharf is no exception. The pub, the dock, the trees. Wind whistles and bark groans, a rasp you can only find here, in these places where time is too slow, and the world forgets. 

There are rooms above the bar, usually rented to his ilk, deckhands biding their time, greenhorns rattling with excitement. They all filter in weeks before the season opens, and when he checks into his, he’s not surprised when the woman at the desk tells him he’s got the last one. 

There are only ten, after all.

The Wharf’s side door swings open in a gust of blistering wind, yet not a single person turns their head. 

None except him, though he doesn’t need to look to know it’s you. 

He can smell you. Can feel you, clear across the floor. Sea salt and lavender, it whirls in your wake wherever you go, and when he lingers on the sidewalk outside of your little workshop, he swears he’s standing in a cloud of it. 

“If y’need jackets, bibs mended from last season, there’s a place on the corner, next to The Wharf. She’ll get ‘em done before season.” 

You’re the bloody seamstress. The tailor. Nimble fingers twisting and tying, threading and looping inside a faded light blue storefront, working into the small hours of the night. Your workspace is small, and overflowing with bright orange polyurethane covered clothes, long lengths of neoprene, socks, shirts, wristers. A mass of work, it seems, one that keeps your light on after all others have gone dark. 

Except The Wharf’s. 

It’s the second time he’s seen you here. 

He doesn’t count the times he’s seen you without you realizing it. Doesn’t count the times he’s finished a cigarette on the street at the perfect angle, a solid perch to peer right in through your window. He doesn’t count the times he’s watched you from The Wharf’s one dark window, when you step outside to take a long breath of air, stretching your back and shaking your arms out, rolling your head in a circle- 

and baring your throat for the slaughter.

The first was days ago, close to zero hundred, when you swung in to settle on a barstool with your back to the door. You look like you’re made from spools of silk, even underneath all of your winter layers, big coat, knit wool hat. There’s a coruscated dapple in your eye, one that manages to shimmer even in the darkest shadows of the bar, voice saccharine as he’s ever heard, dipping into a melody as you go back and forth with the bartender. 

He hears it now when he closes his eyes at night, awash in a sea of bourbon, cigarette stench sunken into his skin. A gentle rhythm, a syrupy voice, saying his name. 

Screaming it. 

You catch his gaze across the bar. Catch him watching you, peeling you, picking you apart, but you say nothing. Blink a few times, glance down at your beer, pretend to busy yourself with something else. It’s not a flinch, but close enough to it. 

He knows what you see. What you should see. 

A monster. Licking his lips at a girl. A fire breather bearing down on top of a princess. 

If he crossed this room right now and yanked you off that barstool, who would interrupt? Intervene? They’re all men of the same vein, born from different battlefields. The rules of engagement become status quo, regardless of whether you’re baptized by the Bering, or by fire.

Rabid, dangerous in packs.  

Eleven days left, and he’s finally found something worthwhile to occupy his time, besides lurking in the dingy corners of The Wharf like an old, decrepit sailor. 

You. 

You live above the shop, an old fire escape leads to a wooden door with a big window, one covered by a curtain hung from the inside. 

The Wharf’s rooms have a fire escape too. A metal catwalk. 

Metal. Who’s the idiot who decided metal anything would be good in a place like this? Iron nearly turned red, rusted to all hell. One shift, and it all falls down. 

He takes his watch there, at night. A gargoyle at his post, waiting for the flicker of your kitchen and bedroom lights, shapes and shadows dancing behind the thin drapes, a ballerina on stage for the masses. 

For him. 

He brings you his gear. Looms over you at the desk where your sewing machine is grinding out an industrial stitch thicker than what he’s seen on parachutes. 

“H-hi.” Hi. Aren’t you cute? A little lamb, alone in the woods.

He nods. Stays silent. Enjoys watching his catch twist herself up on his hook. 

You glance at the noxious orange pieces draped over his arm, and half timidly reach.

“Need those patched? Er, like… have any tears or rips?” Not really. He keeps his gear in good condition. Throws out his underclothes after every season- can never get the stench of fish out of em, but his outer gear is well cared for. 

It almost pained him to rip them apart last night. 

“Simon.” He gives it expectantly, jogging your manners to the forefront. You have the good grace to look embarrassed with how fast you spit out your own name.

“Bibs have a few holes. Big ones. Jacket’s got a rip under the armpit.” You reach, tiny little fingers stretching across the barren space between him and you, and he lashes down the urge to snatch your wrist out of midair and bring it to his teeth. 

Do you taste like lavender? Sea salt? Is your cunt briny like the Bering, slicked sweet and brackish? 

“Okay, well, I should have them done before-“ 

“You better.” You startle, eyes wide and confused, before they find your feet, cowed little girl before an awful man. “Jus’ need em, is all.” He softens the approach, not willing to cut you down just yet (that comes later), and you respond well, perfectly, pushing your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose with a genuine smile. 

Live bait on the line. Set, cast, hook.

“Got it.” 

His control is becoming a house of cards. 

You’re in The Wharf earlier tonight, asking Jimmy for a double, whiskey over ice and nearly to the brim of a rocks glass. Just one, you say. Neck is sore as hell.

He maintains a distance. More inclined to watch you devolve, fascinated by the way you unravel with each sip. Lightweight. Figures.

You pull your glasses off and rub your temples, hopping off the bar stool with a quick word over your shoulder, a request for another drink. “Just goin’ to the bathroom.” You explain, walking away with a hardly detectable sway in your step- 

directly into the side of the wall the bar juts out from. 

Someone, a woman who never so much as looks up the entire time she’s here, furrows her brow at where you’re rubbing your forehead and tsks. 

“Your glasses!” You turn, embarrassed, downright mortified, and sheepishly slide your fingers across the bar until you find them. 

“Oh, right. Thanks Laurie.” Laurie, says nothing. Not until you’ve turned away and almost disappeared into the bathroom. Then, she mutters to herself, into her fresh pint. 

“Damn girl is blind as bat without those things.” 

He buys Laurie another round before he leaves for the night. An eventual thanks. 

"Can I bum one?"

His neck nearly snaps. Where did you come from? You're timid in the mouth of the alley, lichen washed red brick flanking you on either side, your hands folded together at your navel.

"Little girls allowed to smoke 'round here?" Now your neck snaps.

"I- I'm not a little girl, thank you." It's like you're trying to turn your nose up at him, but he's a giant above, and it's hopeless.

"Sure you're not." He plucks the cigarette from his lips, and then holds it out to you. Your breath hitches, top teeth digging deep, an instigation, invitation. His hand whips forward, too fast for you to realize, gripping your chin, pressing his thumb into the flesh of your bottom lip. "Want a drag or not?"

"S-sure." He's got your cheeks squeezed together, just so, enough that the fat of them crowds your mouth and makes the s sound more like a whistle.

He doesn't let go as he feeds it to you, stopping just before the filter touches your teeth. "Go ‘head then." You draw, deep, eyes closing as that first hit of nicotine rushes your blood, undoubtedly making you light headed, and his cock thickens with dreams of his fat head pushing between your lips instead of this cigarette, dreams of you split open on him with a soaked pussy, neck bared for his teeth.

Hook. String. Pull.

He squeezes himself overtop his jeans, heavy weight pulsing between his legs, a dangerous affliction growing larger and larger with each second. He could rock against his palm, right here in front of you, and it would feel worlds better than the last measly meal he had, months and months ago. Nothing will compare to you, he already knows.

You see it all. Frozen like a deer in headlights, your lips part, transfixed, confused. Will you run? Will you shout? Will you tell?

"I uh, I better... get going. Have a lot of work t-to finish." Good girl. He nods, letting go of his aching cock, slipping the cigarette back in his mouth, searching for even a hint of lavender and sea salt lingering in the filter.

"Goodnight."

Four days left, and his gear is finished.

You leave a message for him, letting him know he can pick up whenever is convenient. During shop hours. Cash or card accepted. What a dutiful business owner.

You’re in the back when he arrives. It’s long past close, but no one locks their doors here. Anyone could walk right in.

“Be right out!” You yell, slightly muffled. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t opt to give himself away, just waits at the front desk, where a mug of fresh coffee sits, still hot, still steaming.

Desperation for claim, for possession, claws up his throat to his tongue, thrashing in a fit until saliva pools in his cheeks. He sucks through his teeth, rolling the pockets behind his molars forward, pulling as much as he can, his soul even, up and out, landing it in a glob on the surface of your evening caffeine fix.

It sits there, tiny bubbles and all, an island in endless ocean, unable to break apart or disappear. Blatant. Obvious.

So, he sticks his finger in it and gives a quick swirl. For good measure.

There’s rustling in the back, and then you pop through the doors, glasses sliding to your nose. “Hi! So sor-“

You grind to a halt, spine curling forward, as if you’re trying to protect your precious organs from his fingers, avoiding his grip around your ribs, his urge to rip you open and devour you whole.

He smirks. “Got a message my gear is done? Nick o’ time.”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s done. I’ve got it, one sec.” You fidget, gun shy and shuddering, flitting away on the turn of a heel, eager to escape where he hulks in front of your desk, no doubt.

When you come back, you’re a bit more put together. Polished. Glasses in their rightful place, you place his bib and jacket on the counter unceremoniously, lips pressed together. He hands you a wad of cash, and you count it carefully, keeping your eyes pinned on the bills as he inspects the stitching, taking stock in your sharp attention to detail. “Like new, great work. Thank you.”

You go doe eyed, demure, flattered, and then confused, trying to reconcile this man, this version with the one from last night. “T-thank you.”

It all comes to a head, two days out.

There’s a party of sorts, a gathering. Entire boat of deckhands crammed into The Wharf, plus others, town residents and even some from the next over.

Too many, for Simon’s tastes.

Too many, except for one.

You’re crammed between the wall and someone’s shoulder, occasionally saying hello, accepting thanks for work well done. You keep your idle hands busy, accepting drink after drink, a shot of tequila, another of rum.

You’re even dressed up, cute as a button. Sweet as cream, honey on the hive.

Your hiccups ring out from across the room directly to his ears, chest shaking with each one. The bar is at max volume, shouting, cheering, chattering, but he can hear you crystal clear. Can hear the high pitch echo of each one, can hear your throat bobbing, the long exhale singing from your nose after trying to hold your breath. “I need some air,” you say to your neighbor, “be right back.”

He downs the last of his bourbon, subtle fire in his throat, and then makes for the back door.

Your arms are crossed, leaning against the brick with your head tipped back, eyes closed. Wearing a knit sweater, a skirt, and wool leggings, for fucks sake. “Dangerous place to be, a little girl all alone.” Your eyes snap wide, startled.

“Simon,” you don’t stutter his name, liquor easing your nerves, sweetening you up to a slaughter like the little lamb you are. Your ability to assess risk is long gone, and when you peek over at him, head rolling, the usual skittish haunt of your gaze is nowhere to be found.

“Out for a smoke?”

“No, just some fresh air.”

“Poor lamb. Drink too much?” You shrug, steadying your balance against the wall. Trying to appear more with it than he knows you are.

He stalks closer, closer than you should be comfortable with, but you only sigh, wilted as the grass withered by the impending winter.

He tests. Probes. Brushes a hand against yours, watches how you tip a little to the side, his side, eyes glassy between hard blinks. “You’re so sweet, little lamb.”

“Oh,” you make an o with your lips when you say it, like you’re suprised. “T-thank you.”

“Do you taste sweet, you think?” You jolt, but he handles your hip like he’s afraid you’ll fall, though you have a better grasp on your balance than you think you do. “Hmm?”

“I’m… I’m not sure.” It’s a race now, one you’re desperate to catch up in, but falling behind faster and faster.

Hook. String. Pull.

“Open your mouth.” You do, on instinct, and he hums with approval. “Good girl.” He sticks his thumb inside, depressing your tongue, shoving back and to the side, hard enough he stretches the corner of your lip, and then tugs.

Hooked.

You’re too drunk to process it, not really. Enflamed with a rollercoaster of shock, shame and disgust. But beneath it all, something else rises, breaks at the surface for air. Desire.

He doesn’t waste the moment, hands splayed at your ribcage, shoving you back against the wall, your shoulders slamming into it. He’s on you, rabid, wolf at the throat of a lamb, tongue forcing its way between your teeth without permission. You jerk, tense, muscles shifting like you might put your arms up, but instead they fall limply to your sides, and you moan.

String.

The length of his torso, chest and stomach press against you, hold you in place, allowing him free rein to wrap his fingers into the fine fabric of your wool stockings and rip. The shocked little gasp falls from you as expected, but you’re too far gone to fight. Prize on the line, he tugs them aside and strokes over your folds, already wet for him, dipping into your cunt, tight and fluttering around his invasion.

“Si- Simon- stop.” You push at him shoulders, trying and failing, squirming and whining. He shoves deeper, one nearly too much, two an impossible fit.

“Why would I stop when you’re so wet f’me little girl?” He presses the swell of his cock against you, your walls clenching at the contact, and he chuckles darkly. “Gonna say you don’t want this, sweet lamb? Gonna lie when this little pussy is dripping all over my hand?” You’re scandalized. Ripped from your comfort and thrown ashore, a fish out of water, gasping on land. He breathes into your neck, biting and sucking his way back up to your mouth where he distracts you for a brief moment, long enough to tip your balance to the side, a stutter step disrupting your focus, and delivers an opportune strike to snatch your glasses off your face so fast you flinch backwards in the confusion. He manages to cup your head just in time and cushion its bounce against the brick.

Pull.

“My glasses.” Your voice trembles, and he’s surprised to feel a twinge of guilt. Don’t worry little one. He’ll pull you apart, but he’ll put you back together. Eventually. “Simon… my- my glasses, do you see my glasses?”

“No, sorry. It’s too dark, sweet thing.” You tear up, horrified, and they spill down your cheeks, fat and wet, leaving tracks all the way to your neck.

He licks them with glee.

“I need to-“ he pays you no mind, returning to his work, his meal, shoving your knee to the side and lifting you up the wall, until the smear of you cunt weeps all over his jeans. “I need-“

“Know what you need, little girl.” He shreds your leggings wider, tearing a hole big enough to expose your thighs, your lower belly. Later, when he has you pinned to his bed, he’ll eat you until you can’t speak or see, but for now, bludgeoning the entirety of his cock into this too tight space will have to do.

You hiccup again. It’s too sweet, rots his soul. He wonders if you’ll be here, when he gets back. If you’ll run, or if you’ll wait. Maybe he’ll give you something to remember him by, knock you up, nice and fat by summer, heavy with a piece of him. Maybe.

He slides his zipper now, pulling the weight of his cock free, sliding the head through your slit as you look down. You can’t see, how big, how thick, how impossible it looks, head trying to push into you, your body unyielding, spasming as he batters his way inside. You claw at his shoulders, spitting out a half moan, a half sob, and he taps his forehead to yours. “It’s too m-much, too- hurts-“

“Don’t fight it. You’ve got plenty of room, be good.” He soothes with a lie, probably. You’re so tight he can feel you in his bones, restricting, bearing down. He pushes, heat and slick closing in around him, making him dizzy, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Fuck- that’s it. Feel that?” He drags your hand to the root of his cock, splaying your fingers around the base. “Feel yourself splittin’ open on me?” You moan some nonsense, some sort of garbage mixed with a yes, and a no. “Perfect little pussy, stretchin’ for me, yeah?” Only for me.

He fucks you so hard you’re shoving higher and higher up the wall, cunt choking him with each thrust, your fingers twisted in his sweatshirt, clinging on for dear life, a sailor in a storm. Lost in the fuzzy, blurry world without your glasses, he gives you a port in the dark, a lighthouse calling you home. He spreads you wide, rolling over your clit, pinching, thumbing, finding the rhythm that makes your buzz, hips starting to jerk, swallow him up.

Unbelievably, you tighten up even more, eyes slamming shut, and he holds you steady at your hips, driving deep, mouth on your ear. “Gonna be good and cum? Gonna show daddy how good you can be and cum all over his cock?” You gasp, and he drags you to it, pushes you over, rolls your shoulders back against the brick when you curl forward, pussy so tight it tries to force him out. You scream with it, but he covers your mouth, palm to your tongue, elbow at your collarbone. He’s relentless now, shoving himself until there isn’t a space inside you not filled with him, as fast as possible, body like a ragdoll. When he’s on the edge, teetering so close, he pinches your cheeks. “Open up, little lamb.” Your brow furrows, but partially blind, you’re more trusting, and you do as you’re asked. His hips piston, a rough saw, chasing, sprinting towards the end, heat climbing down his spine and across every muscle until he’s shoved so deep inside you he thinks he’s in your belly, and rears back, sucking a glob of spit to his lips and launching it into your mouth, just as he floods your pussy with cum. He jerks inside you, slow strokes, and you hang limply against him, fucked out, still drunk, docile as a lamb.

You hiss when he pulls free and lurch forward against his chest, not able to stand on your own. “C’mon, let’s get you a bath.” He murmurs into your hair, and you protest weakly.

“My glasses.”

“I’ll find ‘em.” He vows, patting their safe spot in his front pocket. “Don’t worry.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[hiraiologist]

i don't know why i like you (but i do)

minatozaki sana x f!reader

8.7k words

synopsis: maybe there’s a reason they tell you not to mix business with pleasure. but with a coworker like minatozaki sana, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

tags/warnings: set very loosely in tdoong ent universe/office setting, smut (cunnilingus, fingering, begging, restraints), fluff, super super mild angst like its so brief it barely counts as angst, miscommunication, not actually unrequited feelings, lowkey switch!sana, coworkers with benefits to friends with benefits to lovers

a/n: i’ve been rewatching TTT quite a bit and tdoong ent office worker sana is too cute. i combined her character here with sha rich bc i'm a sucker for her ngl like okayyy shes serving high femme realness….. anyway this is not my best & i lowkey hate it SAWRY but i just wanted write Anything to get myself back into the groove again :p i'm trying to find motivation to finish some other works too!! next up is gonna be either a short halloween thing for momo (if i finish it in time) orrr what ive been working on for tzuyu ^-^  title from i don’t know why i like you but i do by the wombats.

you don’t know your newest coworker, minatozaki sana—not really. but there are a few things about her that you’ve started to learn.

for one, she is one of the loudest people in the entire office. it doesn’t bother you—after all, your close circle of friends includes plenty of other loud people from the office, like nayeon and jihyo and momo—and it normally wouldn’t even cross your radar. and yet, every time you hear sana’s high pitched giggle from across the room, you can’t help but lift your head from behind your computer. 

another thing you’ve learned is that she is, to put it plainly, a brat. the second she showed up at the office bragging about how her father owns the company, always reminding you that it’s her family name controlling your future, you knew this about her. she’s spoiled, privileged, pretentious, condescending, lazy, richer than anyone should be allowed to be—

nearly a month after sana’s first day, you’d grumpily proclaimed to some of your coworkers that sana was the most irritating person you’d ever met in your life.

chaeyoung told you that you were being unreasonable and you should just talk to sana. tzuyu told you that you were being insufferable and you needed to get laid.

naturally, you’d decided to kill two birds with one stone.

two months after sana joined the company—her father’s company, as she always reminds everyone—you found yourself in her massive apartment, her pink lips hot and wet against your throat as her hands fumbled with your top. “this is pretty,” she’d said when she greeted you at the door, fingers playing with the fabric.

not ten minutes later, that same top was thrown carelessly on her bedroom floor, followed immediately by sana’s prada skirt.

which brings you to now, in sana’s enormous bedroom, where there is a third thing you’ve learned about minatozaki sana: she’s the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

maybe you already knew that.

but you don’t have time to think about anything beyond that before plush lips brush against your collarbone, and you let your mind go blank as her mouth moves down, down, down—

maybe minatozaki sana has learned a few things about you, too.

the two of you make a habit of late-night meetings at her apartment.

it’s nice. the sex is incredible—mind-blowing, actually, you must admit—and you learn a fourth thing about sana, which is that she’s actually not nearly as annoying as you once believed. at the office, sana’s rambling has become less migraine-inducing commotion and more mildly tolerable background noise. you almost listen for it now, actually, just to know she’s around—not that you’d let any of your coworkers know.

because when your whole arrangement starts, you ask sana if she could keep things on the low, giving a sheepish explanation about not wanting your nosy coworkers to ask questions. you tell her you want this to be a no-strings-attached situation, just casual sex between two people who happen to be coworkers, and you don’t want anyone else knowing about it. sana agrees easily, giggling about how quickly it had gotten around the office that one of the interns had a crush on your department manager mina, and, to your relief, you figure that’s probably the end of that discussion.

you take it a little too seriously, maybe. truthfully, you sort of ignore her. at work, you both operate directly under dahyun, though you work with everyone on coordinated projects—“work” being a loose term; sana never does anything she’s supposed to do, mostly spending her days just chatting with whoever’s willing to engage in a conversation or be distracted for more than two minutes (typically momo—though chaeyoung, nayeon, and jeongyeon are common targets too) or watching an absurd amount of youtube videos whenever she’s meant to be doing something useful. regardless, you act like there’s nothing between the two of you; you don’t acknowledge her unless it’s absolutely necessary and only exchange words about work-related topics. everyone else constantly talks to her or invites her to hang out, but you attempt to keep your contact to a minimum. whenever you join the girls for a drink after work, if sana shows up, you find an excuse to leave as quickly as you can. if sana’s already in the cafeteria, you find a place at another table on the other side of the room (even if you’d really wanted to sit where momo and chaeyoung are chatting animatedly across from sana). you try as hard as possible to ensure that there’s minimal interaction between the two of you when you’re in public.

but sometimes, sana stares at you a bit too long when she’s standing by the printer, or she greets you a little too comfortably when she bumbles towards her desk in the morning. you don’t necessarily say anything to discourage her, but you think about it—especially when momo smirks knowingly at you as you watch sana bend over to pick up a stack of papers she’d clumsily dropped—when nayeon glances meaningfully at you for half a second as sana starts to whine and complain at lunch about being single and bored—when jihyo approaches you on your birthday and gifts you two tickets to a concert for an artist you’d shown to sana (while wrapped around each other under her sheets) but never mentioned to anyone else before.

whenever they ask, you say to your coworkers that you barely know sana. it’s sort of a lie, but sort of a truth, too.

“maybe you’d know her more if you weren’t always avoiding her,” jeongyeon says one night while you’re grabbing some drinks from the bar together. “i think you’re being dramatic. sana is perfectly sweet, really. i don’t know why you run away every time she looks at you.”

you shake your head. “i’m not avoiding her. but i don’t have to be friends with everyone in the office.”

“well, i think she wants to be friends with you,” jeongyeon responds casually. “just talk to her. i have a feeling you two would get along really well.”

“you know, you should try minding your own business.” you ignore jeongyeon’s eye roll. “whatever. if she wants to be friends with me, maybe she should be more obvious about it.”

if you think too long about being friends with sana—or just about sana—your heart starts to beat a little faster in your chest.

you don’t know minatozaki sana, not really. but you can’t help but think you’d really like to.

about a month after your first night together, sana starts sending you random photos and videos—cute animals, most of the time, or just simple things—usually followed by a short message. this reminded me of you! hehe, she types. you typically respond with emojis—the smiley with the halo usually, or a butterfly sometimes—always non-committal and vague, just enough to let her know you’ve seen her messages. sometimes you send a couple words—so cute!! you say. your texts aren’t long or particularly engaging—still, the frequency of her messages never decreases. there’s a fifth thing you learn about sana: she’s addicted to texting. you don’t know if you prefer that or not.

it’s at this point that you stop putting in so much effort to avoid her. if she happens to sit next to you at lunch, you don’t look at her, but you don’t get up and leave anymore either. whenever she greets you in the morning, instead of responding with silence, you give her a small nod. you let her sit with you any time you meet the girls for drinks, staying the entire time without giving an excuse to go home.

when dahyun asks if you’re friends with sana now, you shrug. “i don’t know. not really? still just coworkers.”

the words feel wrong, taste acrid in your mouth. but they’re also half true, because you’re not friends—not really.

after all, you barely know five things about her.

sometimes, when you have sex with sana, it’s a game. sana says or red light green light, maybe. tonight is one of those nights—lie down, sana says, so you comply. no touching, sana says, so you nod. you’re lying on the bed, wrists and ankles restrained, gaze following sana as she struts towards you, a dangerous glint in her dark eyes. the cool air of the room has you shivering lightly, although it might just be from the hungry look sana’s sending you, lips curled into a proud smirk as she watches you tug a little at your cuffs. she’s spent the last hour teasing you, touching you everywhere except where you hopelessly crave, working you up until you’re dizzy with lust.

“please, sana,” you whine softly. “i need you.” you watch as she crawls towards you on the bed, stops at your chest.

and here’s one more thing you’ve come to learn about sana—sana likes it like this: when she’s in complete and total control, with you begging for her permission for everything. she delights in the way your voice cracks and breaks, too consumed with desire to be embarrassed at your desperation soaking the bed sheets.

“need me how?” she tilts her head teasingly, glancing at your glistening slit and grinning. “use your words.”

“need your fingers,” you whimper. “need you inside me, please.” you yank at the cuffs around your wrists again, impatient. sana hums and leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, her tongue moving against your own.

“cute. ask properly,” sana murmurs against your lips, “and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” her mouth moves down to your collarbone and you can feel yourself dripping onto the sheets as she sucks a hickey there.

shuddering, you manage to croak out, “will you please fuck me with your fingers? please, i need you so bad, sana.” she lets out a satisfied chuckle and brushes her lips against yours again, nipping at your bottom lip. a second later, she runs two fingers along your entrance, gathering your wetness before pushing one finger inside. you moan in delight as she begins to pump in and out. “will you add another, please sana?”

“my good girl,” she purrs, “asking so politely.” she crooks another finger inside you and starts to fuck you deeper, faster. you moan louder, gasp and whine when she curls her fingers into your g-spot, struggle against your cuffs as pleasure spreads throughout your body. sana snickers smugly, lowers her head to your chest, wraps her lips around your sensitive nipple. her teeth graze lightly against the peak. “does it feel good, baby?” she uses her thumb to rub at your clit—she’d teased too much, and now you’re positively overwhelmed with desire at every touch.

you try to answer, you do—your mouth opens, but all that slips out are more moans. sana doesn’t berate you this time, just giggles and continues to draw you closer and closer to the edge, fingers moving deep inside you, eventually moving to tease her tongue against your other nipple.

it’s not long before you’re tearfully confessing, “sana, fuck, i’m so close. please, i’m gonna cum.” she circles your clit more intensely then, and you gasp. “sana!” she nips playfully at your breast before letting go and looking down at you.

“what do you say, baby?” her dark eyes bore into your own and you whimper knowingly.

“can i cum, please?” you beg, breath catching in your throat as you watch sana bite her lip, fingers still pumping inside you. you have only moments before you might just explode. tonight she has mercy on you, gives you what you want without a fight.

“cum for me.”

at her soft command, you cum instantly on her fingers, sana moaning at the feeling and fucking you through your orgasm. “oh, fuck, i—fuck, sana,” you cry out, twitching, pulling at your restraints, tears leaking from your eyes as you finally come down from your high and settle into the bed with an exhale. sana slips her fingers out, kisses you tenderly.

there’s a brief moment where both of you just lie there, breathing heavily. you close your eyes, feel her press a kiss against your jaw, hum at the gesture. then she’s moving once more, spreading your legs, kissing along your thighs, biting playfully at the soft flesh there before you feel her warm tongue licking into your slit, lips wrapping around your clit and—

sana uses her tongue to lick up all your cum, looks up at you with lust-filled eyes. she sucks at your bud, fucks into you with her tongue. “sana,” you moan wantonly. you’re still not really recovered from your first orgasm, but that doesn’t deter sana, and you don’t tell her to stop. she suddenly fills you with two fingers again and you whimper as she picks up the speed, mouth moving to your clit once more. the suction is incredible. “oh fuck, yes, sana, just like that.” you grind down against her mouth subconsciously.

she angles her fingers like she had before, presses into your g-spot, flicks her tongue against your clit. “you taste good,” she mumbles before taking your clit into her mouth again. you let out a low groan in response, unable to form words—all you can focus on is sana, her mouth and fingers bringing you closer to your peak with every thrust, every lick, every movement.

she lets you cum two more times that night before she’s undoing your restraints, her own juices sticky on your thigh, then using a damp towel to clean you, offering you water and sweet kisses as she checks in on you.

“as always, you were so good for me tonight,” sana praises you with a bright grin as you sip at your water, your eyes half closed. her fingers trail lightly over the hickeys she’d marked along your thighs, breasts, chest. so maybe that’s another thing you’ve learned about sana—she has somewhat of a possessive streak. “so perfect.”

hours later, as sana sleeps next to you, you watch her chest rising and falling evenly, peacefully, before you collect your things and glance at her one last time, slipping out of her apartment with your stomach filled with butterflies.

it’s going on three months since you’d first slept with sana—and something shifts.

she starts messaging you things that both makes your heart flutter and your stomach flip—things like this is so us underneath a video of two dogs cuddling—a picture of her having a small picnic by the river followed by the words wish you were here.

half the time she doesn’t even add pictures or videos to her messages anymore—i miss you baby, she sends. or just good morning! with some variant of heart emojis. sometimes you get something a little more lengthy—watching the drama you mentioned the other day. have you seen the latest episode? maybe we can watch it together!

you think this means you’re probably actually friends now. the thought makes you grin.

eventually, sana begins leaving little gifts at your desk: your favorite iced coffee, packets of gummies, even a delicate—and expensive—necklace.

you hide the necklace underneath your shirt when mina pulls you aside to gently remind you about the company policy for disclosing personal relationships between employees. you insist you have nothing to say and look away with red cheeks when mina’s eyes drift towards sana’s desk.

it burns against your chest when you wear it, but you can’t bring yourself to take it off, either.

a month passes by, sana’s present never leaving your neck. you meet chaeyoung for coffee one morning over the weekend.

“i’ve been meaning to tell you, but i like your necklace,” she remarks, her thin fingers gesturing towards said piece of jewelry. “it’s really pretty. where’d you get it?”

you fight off a blush. “thanks. uh, someone gave it to me as a gift.”

“someone?” chaeyoung looks at you and notices the pink dusting your cheeks, her eyebrows shooting up. “hold on. you mean like a special someone?” she looks at your necklace then at you again, curious.

“well…” you look away awkwardly for a moment. “i don't know.”

“you've worn it every day for a few weeks now,” she points out. “must be someone at least a little special for you to wear that so often, yeah?”

a small frown starts to form on your lips. “maybe i just really like the necklace.”

chaeyoung hums. “maybe. it does look like something you’d pick out yourself.” she glances appreciatively at it once more before a mischievous grin tugs at her mouth. “but i know you. you like the necklace, sure, but you like the fact that it came from”—she pauses like she’s about to say a name—“this person more.”

and, well. she might have a point.

you’ve learned a few more things about sana over the past few months—like that she tries really hard to do things for you before you even consider asking for them, says things that make you melt and smile softly, giggles at even your worst jokes and talks to you when you’re lonely or upset. it’s all very sweet. sana is sweet. truthfully, you do like knowing she spent time picking out a necklace she thought you might like. the mental image of sana browsing through multiple shops with a cute little pout on her face until she finds the perfect gift for you makes you want to grin like an idiot.

you like sana. a lot, you realize.

but you’re not sure where she stands, because you’ve seen her gift mina and momo things before too. maybe it doesn’t mean anything special to her. that’s something you haven’t learned about her. so you simply scoff and shove chaeyoung in the shoulder, hiding your scowl in your cup of coffee, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at the thought of sana, sana, sana.

sana’s wearing that same cute little prada skirt today, the one she wore the day you’d first slept together. there’s one more thing you’d learned about sana: the woman loves her prada. you watch her walk in, greeting everybody with a charming smile and enthusiastic wave.

sana has really nice legs—not that you needed a reminder.

for a few moments, you let yourself stare at her and think about her smooth skin, her breathy whines, her long legs spread open just for you, her soft thighs quivering as you lower your mouth—

“have you already started on that presentation for new concepts for the upcoming quarter?”

dahyun’s voice breaks you from your reverie. you manage to drag your eyes away from sana and look up at dahyun. she seems tired, looking at her computer with her brows furrowed as she taps at her keyboard. you blink.

“uh—no, not yet. i was going to start on it later, though.”

she nods, still staring intently at her screen. “work on it with sana,” she requests. you open your mouth to respond, but she speaks again before you can say anything. “it’ll be better to have both of you coming up with ideas. i know you haven’t really worked with her before, but she’s not a bad worker, really. she usually has quite a few good ideas if you can get her to focus for long enough. but right now she needs something to do, and i can’t get her to work for more than ten minutes. maybe you’ll have better luck getting somewhere with sana.” she exhales loudly then and finally glances at you with pleading eyes, looking worn out despite the day just starting.

you sigh. “okay. i’ll see if there’s a conference room available to book today and grab sana.”

two hours later, you drag sana into one of the smaller conference rooms in the hallway next to your desks so you can speak a little louder with her, hoping to brainstorm together.

you’re wildly unsuccessful, of course.

sana spends the first thirty minutes of your two reserved hours playing papa's freezeria on her laptop while you try to work on your own. eventually, you can’t take it anymore. you look up from your laptop and clear your throat. sana glances at you.

“what are you doing?”

sana angles her laptop towards you a little so you can clearly see her sundae platter on the screen. it’s overflowing with toppings. her customer frowns, gives her zero stars and no tip. sana whines and turns the laptop back towards her, pouting a little before shooting a bright grin at you. “mina showed me this game,” she chirps. “have you played it before? it’s actually pretty fun.” she clicks a few more times, taking a new customer’s order. immediately, she begins creating another ice cream monstrosity. you just blink at her.

“seriously, do you ever do anything productive around here?” you try to sound serious, but you can hear the fondness in your voice, a small smile forming on your face.

“nope,” sana responds cheerily, looking up from her game. “well, i talk to momo. that seems pretty productive to me.”

you roll your eyes good-naturedly at her serious expression. “sana, that’s not productive. that’s distracting.” you tap her lightly on the wrist. “come on, we need to finish this.” you get up from your chair and make your way to the whiteboard on the wall, getting ready to note the major ideas you’d already thought of on your own.

she smiles brightly at you and closes out of her game. “okay, whatever you need.”

twenty more minutes go by, and you’re actually starting to get somewhere. just as dahyun had mentioned, sana’s a good worker when she puts her mind to it, creative and thoughtful. that was something pleasant to learn about her. she’d even gotten up to write a few notes of her own on the board. you’re in the middle of jotting down a few more details on the whiteboard when sana sets a hand on your shoulder, leans in a little closer next to you to peer at your handwriting and you can smell her perfume. you inhale a little, squeeze your eyes shut, try to retain your focus. it doesn't work.

“you smell good.” you don’t even really register your voice relaying the words to sana until you open your eyes and find that she’s looking at you, honey dripping from her eyes. instantly, you blush.

“cute,” sana whispers, gaze dropping to your mouth. she leans in then, brings your lips together in a slow kiss. you drop the whiteboard marker and your hands instantly fall to her waist while she curls one hand around your jaw, the other playing with your necklace and resting lightly against your chest.

kissing sana is familiar, easy, but it’s the first time you’re kissing her like this: in public, outside of the comfort of her apartment, where, theoretically, anyone could see you. the thought makes your heart race rapidly. maybe you should be more concerned about the fact that you���re kissing sana not even ten feet away from your coworkers, barely concealed by the translucent door of the conference room, but the swipe of her tongue against your lips pushes every thought out of your head. you grip her waist tighter, trying to fight back a whine and failing. 

she makes a sweet sound against your lips in return. “sana,” you say hoarsely, pulling back just enough to take a breath, resting your forehead against hers. she just hums. “we—we need to finish this.”

“okay,” she replies easily, drawing back and giving you an innocent smile. your eyes drop to her lips. she smirks.

“okay,” you repeat, unable to look away from her mouth. she bites her lip. you stare.

“i thought you said we need to finish this?” she cocks her head, blinks at you. but she’s leaning in again, her breath fanning against your lips.

“uh huh,” you say dumbly. “yeah. we should… finish this…” you close the gap, kiss her deeply, let out a quiet gasp when she sticks a hand up your shirt and rests it against your stomach, stroking your skin. your back hits the wall, and it’s only then that you realize sana had been gently pushing you backwards. “sana…”

sana presses you into the wall, licks into your mouth. your thoughts become hazy as she kisses you languidly. the hand she has under your shirt brushes against your bra and you shiver. her other hand rests on your waist, warm and firm. you whimper into her mouth and she pulls away, giggling. “you’re too cute,” she whispers against your lips. she drops her hand from your bra so she’s grabbing at both sides of your waist, then pushes you against the wall once more as she leans in to kiss you again. all too soon, she pulls away again, shooting you a playful smile as she sits back down in front of her laptop. you stare at her, breath catching in your throat. “back to work!” she says with a teasing wink.

you ignore her triumphant grin when you impatiently drag her out of her chair and lay her on top of the conference table, not caring that anyone could walk in on you at any moment.

the soft adoring look sana gives you when you help her pull her skirt back on is worth the embarrassment you feel when dahyun winks at you later and tells you she knew you’d get somewhere with sana.

you’re at the office one morning, on your way to the bathroom, when you overhear it.

“you’re so good at this,” a muffled voice groans out behind the corner of the hallway.

“mmm.” another voice. this one is familiar to you—extremely so. “does it feel good?”

it’s sana.

“yes, feels so good,” the other voice whimpers. they gasp and moan. you hear sana giggle.

you briskly turn back around.

well.

it seems like you aren’t sana’s only plaything.

(that’s something you didn’t really want to learn about sana.)

six months.

half a year since the first time you’d let sana’s hands roam all over your body, let her bring you to the edge again and again and again.

you finally stop sneaking out of her apartment, instead starting your days with her arm thrown over your waist, legs tangled in her overpriced sheets. you also find yourself spending entire weekends at her place. you’d taken to going over to her place every friday night and staying until sunday. sometimes you even spend most of the week there, making sure to go to work in separate vehicles. it’s a little more domestic than you’d imagined things would be when this had all started, but you like it—maybe a little more than you should.

it’s dangerous for your heart.

as it turns out, sana’s an awful chef; on one occasion, she starts a small fire in her kitchen attempting to make your favorite breakfast. to ensure you don’t starve, you put yourself in charge of all cooking related activities, lightly swatting at her whenever she hovers around you in the kitchen. but you always give in when she slips her arms around you from behind, rests her chin on your shoulder, croons appreciatively in your ear when you feed her small bites here and there.

she’s annoying.

she’s lovely.

it’s terrifying, because you know you’re falling for sana. you know her now, and you like everything you’ve gotten to know. but what you don’t know is how sana feels. you know you’re friends by now. but sana hasn’t said anything and, based on what you’d heard that one day at the office, clearly she’s not exclusive with you, so you begrudgingly admit to yourself that she doesn’t think it’s become anything deeper than that. it hurts, and you’re sort of embarrassed. of course you’d fall for someone who only sees you as a friend.

it’s this fact that prompts you to shut down sana’s request to tell even just one person about your private time together. she insists that momo can keep a secret, but you give her a firm refusal, almost bordering on hostile. you can tell she’s disappointed, maybe even a little surprised at your aggression, but she quickly presses a kiss to your lips and assures you she’s still okay with keeping things secret. you think maybe you overreacted—it was just one question, after all.

“i’m sorry, sana,” you murmur as you pull her closer. “i just really don't want to risk everyone being all up in our business, you know?” it’s more like you don't want to give anyone a reason to analyze your unrequited feelings for sana, but what sana doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“i understand,” she mumbles into your ear. “i suppose the girls are sort of gossipy, huh?” you’re grateful for the olive branch, and you accept it quickly.

“more than just sort of. i’ve learned more about nayeon’s favorite sex positions than i’ve ever wanted to know,” you joke with a grimace, and sana giggles and hits your shoulder lightly.

later that night, you try not to pay attention to the churning in your stomach when you think about your gossipy friends dissecting how you’d fallen for the company’s daughter all while she’d been making some other girl moan just ten feet away from your desk.

you wouldn’t be able to handle the humiliation of everyone knowing you’d been dumb enough to break your own boundaries and fall for your fuck buddy, only for her to not feel the same.

sana shifts in her sleep, cuddles closer into you.

it’s enough for now. it has to be.

the next weekend, you find yourself getting lunch with tzuyu. you’re sipping at your water when your phone lights up with a text.

it’s sana. can we have tteokbokki for dinner tonight? i’ve been craving it all day!! i’ll even be your sous chef!!!

you grin as you type back a response. sure. but as my sous chef, you should know that if you blow anything up, you’re fired immediately…

you go back to eating when tzuyu speaks. “who are you texting?”

“huh?” you look up at her. “oh, nobody.”

her eyebrows go up. “you’re an awful liar, you know.” she shrugs, watching you blush. “but whatever. keep your secrets. something tells me i might already know the answer anyway.”

you can’t tell if the feeling spreading through your veins is nausea or relief.

the following monday, sana sits next to you at lunch, and when her hand brushes against your wrist, your breath catches in your throat. you act like you don’t see the smug, pleased look she sends you. she stares at you with a grin—something bright sparks in your chest.

you fiddle with your necklace and try not to think about sana, but you find it’s next to impossible when every other thing reminds you of the woman.

you let your pinky rest against her hand for the rest of lunch. a confession. momo has the decency to pretend she doesn’t notice.

on tuesday, you walk into the office with a cheerful smile on your face. you log onto your computer, work on a few assignments, collaborate with nayeon and jeongyeon on a presentation for the upcoming quarterly report.

during lunch, you sit with tzuyu and chaeyoung and pretend like you aren’t staring at sana across the room—like you aren’t watching how momo’s leg brushes against sana’s, pinky fingers innocently laid across each other atop the table—like you aren’t following how jihyo’s hand reaches across the table to gently fix sana’s hair, tucking it behind her ear neatly—like you aren’t wondering what it might be like to really touch sana in public, to interact with her so easily, to love her freely, loudly.

later, when you’re reporting to mina that you’ve finished your department’s presentation, you try not to stare beyond her shoulder at dahyun and sana giggling together over some sort of inside joke of theirs. you barely manage to push the giddiness down enough to keep your focus on mina, and you falter when sana catches your eye from across the room, her playful grin momentarily turning sultry when she notices your heavy gaze. you pretend it doesn’t affect you and give mina a half-hearted apology before you continue to review the contents of your presentation, sana and dahyun disappearing around the corner as mina nods approvingly at your words.

a few hours later, you’re making your way over to a meeting to discuss the upcoming quarterly budget when you hear it again.

“oh sana,” you hear a breathy voice groan out.

sana and… whoever else she’s hooking up with who isn’t you. they’re in one of the conference rooms. you avoid looking at the door.

“is this good? or do you want it harder?”

“this is perfect.”

sana hums. “that’s what i like to hear.”

you rush towards your meeting, holding back tears as you speed away.

later that night, as you watch sana wash the dishes after dinner, you feel your heart breaking but you know what you need to do. “hey sana?”

she puts the last dish away and turns to you with a little grin. “yeah? what’s up?”

“i think maybe…” you look at sana. “maybe we should… stop.”

“stop?” sana starts to frown.

“you know… stop. this.” you gesture between the two of you half-heartedly. “us.”

sana just stares at you, standing stiffly in the middle of the kitchen. her lip wobbles. “but… why?”

you try to keep a neutral expression. “i just think it’s for the best.”

she’s silent for a long moment. then she looks up at you, eyes hardened. “okay. then i think you should go.”

“oh. uh, okay.” you gather your things as she stares at you harshly. you make your way to the door, then look back at sana. “wait. we’re still okay, right?”

sana just looks at you. she scoffs and turns back around, heading to her room. you try to take a step to follow her, but she puts her hand out. “leave. please.”

so you do.

you text her a few hours later. are we okay?

she doesn’t respond.

you do, however, receive a text from momo a few minutes later. it simply reads give her space.

it’s better than nothing.

(you still cry yourself to sleep that night, not knowing that on the other side of the city, momo simply holds sana in her arms as she does the same.)

the rest of the week goes by slowly. it’s awful. you’re not sleeping, not eating, not functioning.

during your lunch break on friday, tzuyu stares as you shovel rice into your mouth, unimpressed. you ignore her, but eventually her silence makes you shift uncomfortably. you glance around the room, looking for sana. you find her at a table across the room with jihyo and momo. you stare at her as subtly as you can.

by the brokenhearted expression on sana’s face and the uncomfortable frown jihyo gives you—not to mention the way momo is openly making eye contact with you—you’re sure it wasn’t subtle at all.

you look away and catch tzuyu’s eye. “what?”

she blinks at you, shrugging almost imperceptibly. “is there something going on with you?”

you freeze before scooping up another bite of rice. “no.” you try to sound unaffected. “why?”

tzuyu hums. “no reason. it’s just that both you and sana have seemed a little… strange the past few days. i thought something might have happened between you two.”

“and why would you think anything’s happening between sana and me?” it comes out a little less convincing than you’d intended. tzuyu’s brows furrow slightly and she leans back into her seat.

“well… you’re…” tzuyu pauses, clears her throat as she eyes you carefully. “you’re… friends, right?” you don’t answer and tzuyu stares at you again. “come on. i’m not blind. you clearly have something going on with her. why won’t you tell me?”

there’s a flash of movement in front of you and momo suddenly plops down into the seat next to tzuyu. “what are you two talking about?” she takes out her food, immediately biting into her lunch.

“nothing,” you grumble.

“we’re talking about how someone here is in love with sana and is really awful at pretending like she’s not.”

“tzuyu!” you glare at her, then look down at your food, shy. “that’s not exactly what we were talking about.”

in between bites of her sandwich, momo hums. “oh, right.” momo’s next words make you frown. “i heard you guys broke up.” the expression on her face is anything but innocent. you glance over to where she’d been sitting before with sana. sana and jihyo are pointedly not looking in your direction. you look back at momo, who’s trying a little too hard to act nonchalant.

“are you spying on me for sana? also, we weren’t dating. i don’t—what did sana tell you?”

“uh, it’s not spying if i’m speaking to you in front of your face. but i did maybe tell sana i’d come over here and see what you were talking about. also, she didn’t have to tell me anything.” momo snickers, takes another bite. you stare at her as she chews. “you guys aren’t that great at hiding when you’re hooking up in the conference rooms. plus, i know the code to her place. you really shouldn’t leave your panties on the couch so often.” she grins crookedly. you squeak in embarrassment.

tzuyu grimaces. “didn’t need that mental image, thanks.”

momo finally realizes something. “hold on. you weren’t dating?” momo’s next words make you frown. “wait, but you know she thought this whole time that you were dating, though, right?”

you shake your head. “no, that can’t be right. the other week i heard her and someone else hooking up in the hallway. she was doing something right, because they just kept moaning and telling her it felt good. and i heard them again on tuesday in one of the conference rooms. sana was asking them if they wanted it harder, and…” you trail off.

tzuyu tilts her head. “uh, actually.” you look at her and she coughs a little. “i don’t think she was hooking up with anyone.”

“what do you mean?” you frown.

“one of the A&R interns just had surgery on their shoulder. sana’s been giving her massages to help with the pain every now and then.”

your heart stops. what?

momo nods. “oh yeah. sana’s pretty good at giving massages. did you seriously think she was hooking up with someone else? aren’t you, like, practically living at her place?”

you groan, drop your head to the table. guilt washes over you and you swallow roughly. “oh my god. i really fucked up. what should i do?” your voice comes out a whisper. “i… i’m in love with her.”

momo shrugs, shoves the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. she chews thoughtfully, swallows down her food, then takes a sip of her lemonade. “i know i told you to give her space, but as her best friend, i know for a fact that she misses you. i have a feeling that if you went to her place and explained why you did what you did, she’d probably be willing to hear you out.”

you exhale. “really? you don’t think she’d be mad if i just showed up?”

“nah. well, the other day she did mention wanting to stab you with a steak knife.”

“momo!”

she bursts out laughing. “i’m just kidding. she’ll want to have a mature conversation. she just needed time to think about things. i’m sure she won’t stab you and she’ll hear you out.”

“you’re not very helpful,” you grumble. momo grins at you.

“oh, one more thing. if you ever hurt sana again, she won’t need a steak knife, because i will kill you myself. you’d make an excellent stew, i think.”

“momo!”

you decide to follow momo’s advice, despite the slight worry of sana pulling a knife on you, and find yourself outside sana’s apartment on saturday morning.

deep breaths, you think. sana is a reasonable person. she won’t stab you. she’ll talk to you.

you ring the bell.

a few moments pass.

“what are you doing here?” sana’s voice comes through the speaker. you glance at the doorbell camera.

“i wanted to talk,” you say slowly, “and apologize. and clear some things up. if you’ll let me.”

silence.

then sana’s buzzing you in, and you nearly shed a tear at the sight of sana opening her door for you, wearing one of your worn-out t-shirts and her too-short sleep shorts.

“okay.” she sighs. “come in.”

you give her a soft smile and step inside. she closes the door behind you and turns to face you.

“hi,” you say dumbly, playing with your fingers nervously.

sana cracks a small grin. “hi,” she replies. “want some coffee?”

you can’t help but brighten and smile wider at her. “i’d love some, thanks.”

sana walks towards the kitchen and you follow her. you stand behind her as she pours coffee into your favorite mug. her fingers brush against yours when she hands it to you and you inhale sharply. you look at her and her cheeks redden slightly. “let’s sit down, yeah?” you nod at her words and make your way to her living room, sitting gently on her couch and sipping at your coffee before setting it on the small table in front of you.

“thank you,” you begin, “for letting me in and for hearing me out. i know you could tell me to go away and i’d have no right to complain. so thank you again. but i really want to make things right between us and explain myself.”

sana nods. “okay.”

“i guess i should start with saying i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean to hurt you. to be honest, i didn’t think me ending things would even matter to you.”

“oh.” sana frowns. “why wouldn’t it?”

“i…” you sigh. “i honestly thought you didn’t see me as anything more than a friend. like, a fuck buddy. but i was okay with that because i thought maybe… if we spent more time together… anyway. yeah. but then a couple months ago, i heard what i thought was you and someone else hooking up at work. and that hurt so much—to think i wasn’t the only one getting to spend that kind of time with you, you know? and then i heard the same thing again a few days ago on tuesday, and that was just. you know. all i could take. so… i thought it would be better for my heart to make a clean break.”

sana’s quiet. then she looks at you in confusion and says, “okay, sorry, but—what? i haven’t been hooking up with anyone else since, you know, our first time.”

you blush. “i know. or, well, momo and tzuyu told me literally just yesterday that i’d grossly misheard things. they told me you were just giving an intern a massage for their shoulder surgery recovery. but yeah. i’d already ended things with you when i found out that i was mistaken. so. here i am.”

“i…” sana blinks. “okay. so… you ended things with me because you don’t want me to hook up with anybody else. well, i’m not. so… is that all?”

“actually, there’s something else i need to tell you.”

sana slowly nods, her eyes shining with something you recognize as hope. you take a deep breath.

“i like you—i love you. i'm so in love with you, sana, and i've been falling for you for months and i just—you're all i think about. when i'm with you, i'm the happiest i've ever been, and when i'm not with you, i'm just thinking about the next time i can be with you. it's like… it’s like my life is just measured in moments of with sana and waiting to be with sana. and i’m terrified. because i—i thought you were hooking up with someone else, that you didn’t like me the way i like you. or, well. the way i love you.”

sana lets out a breath, leans forward into your space. you blink and before you can register what's happening, she’s kissing you.

the kiss is—different. it's wet, for one, because someone’s crying. in the back of your mind, you register it's probably you. but this kiss is also all-consuming, like sana’s been holding back every time you’d kissed before this, like this is the first time she’s really kissing you the way she’s always wanted. this kiss is full of love, you realize. sana pulls back slightly and you subconsciously chase her lips, blushing and looking down when she lets out a laugh. she gently leans back in and rests her forehead against yours.

“you’re an idiot,” sana breathes out against your lips. you can feel her smile.

“i am?” you pull back to look at her. she just smiles at you and brings you in for another kiss before sighing.

“you’re so stupid,” sana murmurs, pressing a small kiss against your lips once more. “i…” she trails off.

“you…?” it’s hard to form words with her lips gently brushing against your own. she pulls back again and takes a deep breath.

“i’ve been in love with you,” she says quietly, “ever since you agreed to come over to my place for the first time.”

“wow, okay, i am an idiot,” you whisper. sana just nods, lips twitching playfully into a smirk.

“it’s okay though.” she sighs, leans back in to give you another soft kiss. “because i love you, and you love me.”

when you walk into the office on monday morning, it’s with sana’s hand in your own and matching smiles on your faces. you can see all of your friends gawking at the sight.

mina spots you as you round the corner and purses her lips slightly when her eyes land on your fingers tangled with sana’s. “good morning, you two. anything you’d like to tell me?” she fights back a smile at your bashful expression.

sana wrinkles her nose. “mina, i’m pretty sure you sort of work for me. do i really need to tell you that my girlfriend’s your employee?”

mina’s grin only widens when seven voices start yelling excitedly from around the office.

you roll your eyes as sana giggles. your friends are stupid.

you’ve never been happier.

sometimes, when you have sex with sana, it’s a sanctuary. long-awaited touches and whispered praises. tonight is one of those nights—you’re so beautiful, she says, so you kiss her neck. i missed you, she says, so you lay her down on the bed. you’re settled between her legs, one hand in her own warm grasp while your other hand caresses her skin where you’re pushing her leg up. you kiss along her thighs before you press a kiss against her wetness and hum as she shivers lightly. you squeeze her hand then lick against her slit once, slightly tangy slick coating your tongue instantly. she lets out a breathy moan as you lick again, tongue brushing against her clit. you’ve learned that sana likes it like this, too: when she surrenders to you, lays herself bare for you to adore, attentive and loving and intimate.

you wrap your lips around her bud and suck. she clenches your hand so hard it turns white. you dip your tongue between her folds, lick and suck and lose yourself in her heat.

“fuck,” sana sighs. “just like that, baby. you’re so perfect.” distractedly, you think about how sexy she truly is. skin slightly sweaty, girlish moans and whines slipping past her lips every few moments, body heaving with uncontrolled gasps and breaths every time your tongue swirls around her sensitive clit. you moan into her cunt and feel how she squirms and shivers.

you push her leg up more, hook it around your shoulder to make her more comfortable. as you dip your tongue inside her, you feel her use one hand to reach down and grasp at your hair. she tugs a little and you smirk, knowing she’s enjoying herself.

her slick is all over your mouth and chin. it’s intoxicating, being surrounded by sana’s presence, being covered in it. you pull your mouth away momentarily and use your hand not currently being squeezed by sana’s to lightly drag down along her skin before running it between her folds, teasing her. “shit, sana, you taste so good.” then you kiss her clit, ease two fingers into her, marvel at how easily they slip into her wetness. “oh baby,” you simper. “you must’ve wanted this so badly, hm?”

you bring your mouth back to her pussy, savoring her taste. sana lets out a strangled noise as you find the right angle inside her, curl your fingers slightly, lick against her mound. you bring her clit into your mouth again and suck the way you know she likes. you keep fucking her with your fingers as you eat her out enthusiastically, never wanting to stop.

after a while, sana starts twitching around you. her breathing gets even heavier as she gasps and grinds down onto your tongue. she opens her mouth to say something, but instead she releases a long, drawn-out groan. pleased, you suck a little harder at her clit knowingly, wait for her to speak.

“i’m gonna—fuck,” she gasps. “fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.” her voice is deeper than usual, thick with desire. it sends a thrill down your spine. you hum, don’t stop what you’re doing, finger her a little deeper and keep licking at her.

a few moments later, sana’s letting out a cry and cumming hard on your fingers and tongue. you continue to pump your fingers in and out, slowing down a little, swallowing her juices and lapping at her clit until she’s gently laying a hand on your collarbone. you pull away and take your fingers out and stare up at her, pupils completely blown.

she’s no different—her eyes are unfocused, totally black. she pants and bites her lip as she watches you take the fingers that were inside her into your mouth and suck her release off them. you grin at her. “i love the way you taste,” you say casually. “and i love making you cum. you look so pretty when you do, you know?

sana blushes all the way down to her chest. “yeah?”

“well, actually, i don't know,” you say, tapping at your chin. “i might need to see it again, just to make sure.”

she squeals and giggles when you kiss her, sighs adoringly when you bring a hand down between her legs again.

you spend hours after that watching her body and expressions when she cums—on your tongue, your fingers, your thigh, your stomach—and each time, she looks impossibly prettier than the last.

after you both become too exhausted to keep going, you clean up, get ready for bed together, showering and going through your nightly routine. it’s soothing, and you finally flop into her bed and start to drift off. sana’s still in the bathroom. everything starts to fade as you begin to succumb to your fatigue.

you don’t even register sana coming to bed, pulling the sheets over the both of you, turning off the lights. time passes; you’re not sure how much, but it must be a while, because you keep drifting and waking slightly, on the very edge of finally letting yourself fall asleep. sana seems to be in the same boat. her body has relaxed to the point that you know she’s about to pass out in the next ten seconds. you’re barely conscious, nearly fully asleep, also seconds from slipping into a deep slumber when—

“good night, baby. i love you,” sana whispers into your neck, so low you almost don’t hear her—but you do.

sana settles her arm around your torso, pulls you impossibly closer to her body before all her muscles slump and she enters a deep sleep.

your eyes start to close as her words replay softly in the back of your head.

i love you.

sana’s gentle murmur, soft lips pressing the syllables into your flesh. i love you.

when you finally fall asleep, you dream of warm skin and sweet lips, of lithe hands and wide eyes, of sana and love.

i love you, i love you, i love you.

of all the things you know about sana, this is your favorite.

[daisynik7]

[M4F] Husband Catches You Listening to Audio P*rn, Teaches You a Lesson [Soft Mdom] [Established Relationship] [Mild Degradation] [Praise] [Overstimulation] [Multiple Orgasms] [Creampie]

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, sex without a condom, creampie, overstimulation, soft dom!Nanami, breeding kink, mild degradation (use of slut and whore), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (honey, sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: Nanami comes home early from his business trip and catches you doing something naughty in your bedroom. Author’s Note: Inspired by all the audio porn VAs that I listen to! Special shoutout to @mrsackermannx for raving about AugustInTheWinter with me. If you have not listened to him yet, PLEASE check him out, he’s incredible. Also, I’m clearly very delulu for Nanami currently, considering this is the third piece I’ve written for him within a week, but hey, this is my outlet! So I hope you enjoy! MDNI divider created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Your skin is sweltering against the sheets, sweat damp on your forehead and neck. Thighs are apart, vibrator buzzing on your clit, sleek with lube and arousal. You’re home alone; Nanami doesn’t return until tomorrow morning. Still, the thought of the audio porn playing on speaker makes you shy, so you have both earbuds in, listening to the sultry tones of your favorite voice actor moaning expletives directly into your ear. Such a good girl, oh fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart. Take that cock for me. You are so fucking tight, holy shit. The added sound effects of thwapping and wet squelches in the background immerse you into a state of erotic bliss, gushing for the second time tonight from the sensation of the toy pulsing on your throbbing bud.

“What do we have here?”

You jolt up when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway, startled to see him standing there, leaning against the frame with a serious look on his face. His spectacles are on, covering his eyes, which you can tell are boring into you in this lewd position. 

Popping your headphones off, you hide the vibrator under the pillow, as if he hasn’t already caught you red-handed. Closing your legs, you bat your eyelashes, feigning an innocent expression. “Honey! What are you doing here?” More heat rushes into your cheeks, scorching hot from your recent orgasm and current embarrassment.  

He steps forward, sitting at the far edge of the bed, avoiding your gaze by staring at the floor, acting disappointed. “I managed to catch an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.” Dramatic, he turns to face you, eyes narrowed through his tinted lenses. “It appears that I am the one being surprised.” 

Biting your lip to hold back your laughter, you crawl towards him, naked from the waist down, your panties discarded on the floor near his feet. He’s not actually upset; having been together long enough and in tune with each other’s emotions, you can tell that he isn’t seriously mad at you. This is a role he indulges in occasionally: stoic, strict husband with a mean streak when things don’t go his way. And you know exactly where this will lead to, so naturally, you play along. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t think you would be coming home tonight. I just thought I’d have a little bit of fun.” You massage his shoulders, nuzzling your face to his nape, giving him a loud smooch. 

He shifts around in the bed, confronting you. “What were you listening to?” There’s legitimate curiosity in his voice, and now genuine guilt builds in your chest upon his question. 

You swallow hard, anxious to admit the truth, too ashamed to lie to him. “Um, I was listening to porn. Audio porn.”

He raises a brow at you, confused. Then, he says, “Let me hear it.”

Reluctantly, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, resuming from where you paused. Wet slaps blare through the speaker, then a man’s voice, moaning, “Ah fuck, let me hear you. Let me hear you moan on my cock. Let me hear you take this cock. Yeah, like that baby, take it just like that.” 

You bury your head in your hands, absolutely mortified as the pornographic dialogue continues. The audio comes to a halt when Nanami stops it, silently tapping at the screen. You’re still hiding in disgrace, squeezing your legs together tightly to conceal the evidence of your supposed sin. The tension is palpable, with neither of you speaking or making any sudden movements. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking, simultaneously terrified of his judgement. 

He clears his throat; you peek through your fingers to catch him loosening his tie around his collar, removing the glasses from his face. He’s blushing, brows tight with contemplation. “Did you come to this?” he asks, almost breathless. 

You lower your hands, fisting them into the sheets beneath you, nodding. Anticipating. 

“Show me,” he demands, eyes at your lap. Too eagerly do you spread your legs, displaying your sopping cunt to him, staring at his lips part slightly, a barely audible growl resounding within his throat. Your uneasiness gradually slips into arousal, aching to be touched, even punished, by your formidable husband. He bows, licking his mouth, inspecting you like prey he’s about to devour. Flicking his eyes to yours, he mutters, “You’re a dirty slut for listening to this filth. Have you no shame?” He kneels before you, unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the white tee underneath. Chiseled chest and abs carved into the fabric like fucking marble. 

Losing composure, you blurt out, “No shame, absolutely none. I’m fucking filthy.” Your pussy aches, toes clenched, thrilled. 

“I can’t stand you listening to another man’s voice while you get off. It makes me sick thinking about it. Makes my blood fucking boil.” His tone is menacing in way that titillates every inch of your skin, has you shuddering from the low growl at the end of each sentence. 

“Are you going to punish me?” you goad, saliva collecting on your tongue, heavy with lust.

“I can think of something better.” Reaching for your phone, he navigates through it, finding your voice recorder app. He taps on the big red button, setting it beside you. “From now on, you only come to my voice. Got it?”

You swallow hard, almost chocking on your spit when you respond, “Yes. Yes, baby.”

He grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Good girl.” His thumb traces the outline of your parted lips, your mouth inviting him in. But he doesn’t, leaning back on his wrists, observing you with the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. “Get that vibrator. Show me how you do it.”

Obeying, you search for it under the pillow, retrieving it to rub the tip up and down your folds, finger on the trigger. “There you go,” he encourages, a cocky smirk on his face, slowly unbuckling the belt around his waist, sliding it from the loops and tossing it aside. “Tease it a little before you turn it on. Make sure it’s exactly where you want it.” 

You tap the toy on your swollen bud, already sensitive from your earlier climax. You meet his gaze, waiting for a signal. He slides out of his pants and briefs, revealing his erection sprung against his belly. Before he does anything else, he grabs your phone and sets it on the bed between you. Palming his length, he grins. “Go ahead.” 

What a fucking menace he can be.

Pushing the button, the vibrator immediately pulsates on you, causing you to twitch from the intense sensation. He watches, fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself, thumb grazing the slit. “Look at you. My gorgeous girl,” he purrs. “My perfect angel with the prettiest pussy. Can’t wait to stretch you open with this cock. Bury myself deep inside you. Fill you up with my cum.”

“Fuck, Kento,” you whimper, pressing the fluttering tip firmer, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You’ve always loved his hands; how pristine they are with his knuckles tight on his skin. Large, strong, then rough on the pads of his fingers from hard work and constant use. They’re even prettier in a fist surrounding his cock, wrist jerking hastily, precum glistening at the tip. Your entire focus is on him touching himself while he watches you do the same, the toy’s low hum enhanced when it’s snugly nestled to your clit. 

“You like it when I talk nasty to you, huh?” he huffs, readjusting himself nearer to you. He’s so close, you can practically feel the tip of his cock at your quivering pussy. “Is it better than listening to your ridiculous pornography?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, jutting your hips out, attempting to close the gap. 

“Unlike them, I can actually touch you,” he muses, his tip teasing your entrance. “I can do whatever I want, whatever you want. They don’t get to fuck this sweet cunt like I get to. They don’t get to taste you the way I do.” 

Suddenly, he grabs the vibrator from your grasp, shutting it off and setting it back under the pillow. He shifts down the bed, positioning his head between your thighs, diving in tongue first onto your puffy clit. Pleasure resonates from your core throughout your limbs, legs shaky and mind hazy as he slobbers all over you, covering your bud in his frothy spit. It’s sloppy, salacious, straight up nasty. After only a few strokes of his tongue, it’s already enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night, more powerful than the first two combined when you were alone. 

You’d be a fool to expect him to let up after coming once with him; still, it shocks you when he doesn’t stop. He latches to you harder, suckling on your sensitive clit until it’s plump between his glossy lips and you’re crying out, “Too much!” overstimulated and spasming above him. Sometimes, when he’s in one of these moods, he forgets his own virility, always so keen on making you orgasm multiple times in one go. Tonight, he forgets that you had already been prepping yourself since earlier. With a gentle kiss, he relents, indulging in his work by running his tongue along your gushing pussy, drinking up your cum. He reaches for his cock, stiff between his stomach and the bedsheets under him. On his knees, he returns to his spot from earlier, stroking his cock with the tip just barely in your entrance. 

You’re absolutely spent, but you yearn for him inside you, desperate to be filled with his load. “Come in me, baby,” you beg, gripping his wrist to pull him closer. “Fuck me.” 

He lets out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head. “Not yet, princess. You have to be patient. We’re just getting started,” he smirks, stroking himself faster. “Are you just so fucking needy for my cum?” You nod erratically, tempted to thrust yourself onto him. 

“Then beg for it,” he orders, sliding his cock the slightest bit further inside you. “Convince me that you deserve it.”

Understanding what he wants, you retrieve your little toy again, rubbing small circles with it on your bud, smearing whatever is left of your orgasm around it. “Please, Kento. Please. I need it. I need it.”

The sight of you like this has him dangling on the very edge, so close to climax. “Turn it on,” he demands. You do, the buzz electrifying all the nerves in your body yet again. You chant his name over and over until he shoots insides you, spurts of opaque cum flooding your pussy. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Take that fucking cum. Take all of it. Fuck.” His voice is hushed, breathy and trembling from the high. 

You stop the vibrator, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nanami crawls next to you, cradling you in his arms. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “Are you okay?” 

You smile, turning to face him, nuzzling his chest. “Of course.”

He caresses your face, trailing down your body to rest his hand at your waist. He glances at your phone beside you. “We’re still recording, you know.”

You giggle. “And…?”

He kisses you softly, tongue flitting past your lips, guiding you flat on your back, spreading your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hand glides to your loins, toying with your swollen clit before teasing your entrance, brimming with his creampie. “Can you still take it, sweetheart?”

You nod, breath hitching, cuddling closer to him. Smiling sweetly at you, he eases a finger in, cum overflowing your pussy and trickling out from your slit. He slides in another easily, stretching you open, a whine escaping you. His mouth is hot on your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Me finger fucking my cum deeper inside you. Taking it like an obedient whore.” He picks up the pace, your cunt clenching his digits. “I’m going to get you pregnant tonight. Breed you, make you mine. You want that, sweetie?” His fingers writhe inside you, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tight around him, ready for another orgasm. At this point, you’ve stopped keeping count, lost in a sex-fueled craze instigated by your husband. 

“Yes, Kento. Give it to me. I want it. I want it so bad.” You notice he’s hard again, his erection stiffening against your leg. Reaching for him, you rub your hand on his length, feeling it twitch from your touch.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling out from you. He sits up, back to the headboard, beckoning. “Get on my lap. Hurry,” he urges, hoisting you towards him. You straddle him, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Sink down on it. There we go,” he instructs, eyes wide, desperation etched in his tone. He needs this just as much as you do, and it drives you wild. You follow his command, lowering yourself onto him, his dick sliding in smoothly, bottoming out. “That’s my good girl. Fuck. You’re so good to me. So fucking good to me.”

You start riding him the way he likes, your ass slapping loudly on his thighs. He’s moaning endlessly, throwing in the occasional fuck and pet name as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep steady, holding him tightly. “Want your cum,” you manage to utter, enraptured in the scorching pleasure he surrounds you in. 

He's fucking up into you, feet planted at the end of the bed. The mattress creaks with every thrust of his cock. In a huffy breath, he says, “Milk it out of me, honey. Milk me fucking dry. You can do it sweetheart; I know you can.” The praise encourages you to ride him faster, rougher, your bodies in tandem, springing on the bed, moaning into each other’s mouth with a passionate kiss. 

Soon, he pulsates inside you, stuffing you even fuller with his cum. You climax once more, gripping his cock with your fluttering pussy. He cradles you in a cozy embrace, catching his breath, nuzzling his nose to your chest. You giggle, running you fingers through his hair, smooching the top of his head. “You okay?” you ask, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

He nods, exhaling deeply. “Just let me hold you. Need to calm down.”

You laugh, amused by his current state of post-coital euphoria. Fetching the phone teetering precariously at the edge of the bed now, you tap on the red button to stop the recording. Seeing this, he mentions, “You know I don’t actually mind you listening to that kind of stuff, right?” 

You smile, noticing the guilt in his voice, massaging his back. “I know, honey. I know you don’t.”

He squeezes you, taking a deep breath. “Okay, good. Just want to make that clear.”

You cup his cheek, thumb caressing the stress lines along his face, gradually relaxing to your touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather listen to this than some stranger on the Internet.”

Chuckling, he replies. “Maybe it makes me feel a little bit better.” He snuggles closer to you, hugging you tight, reluctant to let you go. Eventually, the two of you slip beneath the covers, getting comfortable with Nanami spooning you from behind.  

You glance at the screen, showing the several minute long recording and the play button adjacent to it, ready to be tapped. “So,” you start, craning your neck to smirk at him. “Should we give it a listen?”

He returns your grin, shifting beside you, cock growing hard between your ass cheeks. “Absolutely.”