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synsacra · 1 month ago

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SNEAKING OUT OF HEAVEN

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

contents: smut, unprotected piv, mostly soft sanji bro is infatuated with u, creampie, face sitting, praise, lots of pet names in french (chérie, ange, cœur), multiple rounds kinda, strangers to lovers :3

words: 3.2k

a/n: i took french for 5 years in school so if any of it's wrong im blaming my french teacher. title has nothing to do with fic i just like the song anyways enjoy

The salty ocean breeze drifts through the open windows of the Baratie, blending with the mouthwatering aroma of seafood. You’re seated at a table nestled in the corner of the restaurant, absentmindedly fiddling with the napkin in your lap while trying to mask your growing boredom. Across from you, your date rambles on, loudly recounting his so-called “pirate adventures.” His voice is grating, and his over-the-top stories–clearly designed to impress–fall flat.

You nod every now and then, pretending to listen, but your eyes keep darting toward the exit. At least the lively atmosphere of the restaurant and the view of the ocean offer some small comfort.

And then, you see him: your waiter, Sanji.

Tall, elegant, and poised, he strides across the room with an unmatched confidence. His sharp black suit hugs his frame perfectly, and his blond hair falls effortlessly over his left eye as he gracefully balances a tray of dishes. He flashes a flirtatious smile at a woman's table as he delivers her food.

When his gaze meets yours, something shifts. Maybe it’s the silent plea in your eyes or the barely concealed discomfort on your face. Whatever it is, Sanji seems to notice instantly. His smile changes–understanding–and he adjusts the cuff of his sleeve before he approaches your table.

“Good evening, madam, sir,” he says smoothly, bowing politely. His voice is rich and warm, laced with just enough charm to turn heads. “I trust everything is to your liking?”

Your date barely spares him a glance, brushing him off with a dismissive wave. “Yeah, yeah, the food’s fine. Not as good as the stuff I’ve had at restaurants in the Grand Line, though.”

Sanji doesn’t react to the slight, his focus instead shifting to you. His attention feels so direct that it’s as though no one else exists. “And you, mademoiselle?” he asks, his tone softening. “Are you enjoying your evening? If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, just say the word.”

There’s something unspoken in his words, an offer that doesn’t need explaining. Before you can answer, your date cuts in again. “She’s fine,” he says curtly, leaning back with a smug grin. “Right, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? You grit your teeth behind a forced smile, but before you can let the moment pass, you seize the lifeline Sanji has so graciously offered you. “Actually,” you say, setting your napkin on the table, “I could use some fresh air. Could you point me to the deck?”

Sanji’s smile widens, a flicker of amusement lighting his eyes. “Of course. Allow me to escort you.” He extends a hand, and you take it gratefully, the touch of his skin against yours grounding you.

Without waiting for your date’s reaction, Sanji leads you through the bustling restaurant and onto the open deck. The cool night air hits you immediately, carrying the soothing rhythm of waves against the ship. The noise and chaos of the restaurant fade into the background.

“I had a feeling you might need rescuing,” Sanji says softly, leaning casually against the railing. His voice carries the kind of warmth that makes you feel at ease. “Forgive me if I overstepped.”

You laugh–an actual, genuine laugh that feels like a weight lifting off your chest. “Overstepped? Are you kidding? You saved me. That guy was unbearable.”

Sanji chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick. “I could tell. A beautiful woman like you deserves far better company.”

His words, though undeniably flirtatious, don’t feel forced or sleazy. There’s a sincerity to them that makes your shoulders relax.

“Thank you,” you say, meeting his gaze. “I really mean it. I didn’t know how to get out of that.”

He tips his head slightly, exhaling a soft plume of smoke that drifts into the night. “It’s my pleasure,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No one should have to endure an evening like that.”

For a moment, the two of you stand there in comfortable silence, the gentle crash of waves filling the gaps. Sanji turns toward you, his eyes soft and thoughtful. “You know,” he says, his voice dipping lower, “you deserve to be treated like royalty. Let me show you how.”

His words linger in the air, and though they’re laced with charm, there’s an earnestness that makes your heart skip a beat. You feel a warm flush creep up your neck as you search his face, wondering if you dare to say yes.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” you ask softly.

Sanji’s smile deepens, slow and deliberate. “Let me take care of you. Anything you want, mademoiselle.”

The invitation is thrilling, and for the first time all evening, you feel alive. With a breathless nod, you accept. “Alright,” you say, heart pounding. “Show me.”

Sanji’s smile widens; he puts his cigarette out and offers you his arm. You wrap your fingers around his bicep, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his suit. Together, you make your way across the deck and up a narrow staircase.

His private quarters are cozy and inviting, a bed covered in blue pinstripe sheets and lighted by a singular lamp. Sanji guides you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room is filled with the faint scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke.

He turns to face you, his eyes darkening with desire. “Why don’t you take off your clothes for me, chérie,” he says gently. “Let me see you.”

You hesitate for only a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head, and tossing it aside. Your bra follows, the cool air dancing across your sensitive nipples as they harden in response. You kick off your heels quickly, leaving you standing in nothing but your underwear.

Sanji's eyes trail over you, slow and deliberate, leaving you feeling both exposed and a little self-conscious. He steps closer, his voice soft but full of warmth. "Tu es tellement belle…" he says, his breath mingling with yours. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His fingers trace the contours of your body with adoration, caressing every curve. Sanji leans in, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmurs, "Thank you for blessing me with this sight, mon ange." His touch ignites a trail of goosebumps across your skin. He trails feather-light kisses along your collarbone, then down to the swell of your breasts.

Sanji cups one in his palm, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbles beneath his touch. He lowers his head, capturing the sensitive bud between his lips, suckling gently. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you at the sensation. You arch into him with a soft moan.

Sanji releases your tit from his mouth, a glistening thread of saliva stretching between the damp peak of your nipple and the tip of his tongue before breaking. “Tell me what you want,” He sighs, “I’ll fulfill any request of yours.”

"I want..." You trail off, your breath catching as Sanji's fingers dance across your sensitive skin. "I want you to make me feel good."

A knowing smirk curves his lips. "And how might I do that, mon ange? Tell me." He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, stirring the heat building between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation. "Sanji… touch me more."

He obliges, large hands smoothing over your thighs before one hand slides higher to cup your cunt possessively. His thumb finds your clothed clit and presses against it softly. He rubs slow circles around it, applying gentle pressure that has you biting your lip to hold back a moan.

"Like this?" he purrs.

You nod quickly, toes curling in anticipation. Sanji's eyes darken with lust as he watches you squirm under his touch. "You're so responsive," he mumbles approvingly. His ministrations become firmer, more insistent - working your aching nub until you're panting and arching into his hand needily.

With a sly grin, Sanji suddenly withdraws his hand, leaving you whimpering in protest. But before you can complain, he's falling back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. He grasps your hips and pulls you upwards, positioning you above his face. "Time for a change of pace," he whispers, his breath fanning over your skin.

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you realize what he's planning. But Sanji's hands are firm, guiding you into place. As he tugs your panties down to your knees, you instinctively help him, wriggling them the rest of the way down your legs. Your cunt is now poised above Sanji's face, and the feeling of his warm breath sends a thrill through you.

Sanji's eyes lock onto yours from below you. "Sit down, mon ange," he coaxes. "Let me taste you."

Your heart races as you slowly lower yourself onto his face. The moment his tongue touches you, you let out a strangled moan. Sanji's tongue moves with deliberate strokes, exploring every inch of your sopping pussy. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, sending shivers through your body as he laps up your juices.

As Sanji continues to lick at your cunt, you feel your body begin to tense, your muscles tensing with anticipation. His hands are still grasped firmly around your hips, holding you in place as he devours you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you find yourself rocking gently against his face, urging him on as he brings you closer to the brink of orgasm.

Your moans grow louder as Sanji's tongue probes deeper, his strokes growing more insistent. You can feel the pleasure building inside of you, a coil in your belly that threatens to snap every second. Your hands reach out, grasping for something to hold onto, and find the headboard of the bed, your fingers wrapping tightly around it as you grind against Sanji's skilled mouth. "Oh fuck, Sanji! Feels so good…"

He groans at your words, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Two fingers slip inside you, curling and stroking your velvety walls.

Your hips buck against him as he works his tongue and fingers, pushing you closer to the edge. "Sanji…’m close!" you gasp out.

The combined sensation of Sanji's tongue and fingers sends you over the edge. Your body convulses in his grip as a powerful orgasm crashes through you, your pussy clenching around his fingers. "Shit…cumming, Sanji!" You cry out, back arching as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins.

Sanji holds you steady, lapping gently at your throbbing pussy until the aftershocks subside. When they do, he guides you down to lay beside him on the bed. He tugs you close and captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

"Mmm...you look radiant when you cum," he murmurs into the kiss. His clothed cock presses insistently against your hip, but when you reach for it, he captures your wrist. "Not yet," he teases with a wink. "I want to enjoy this moment with you first."

Sanji tucks a strand of sweat-dampened hair behind your ear before nuzzling into your neck tenderly, peppering soft kisses along the column of your throat. Your breath comes in shaky gasps as you try to regain your composure from the intensity of your orgasm. Sanji's skilled mouth and fingers have left you feeling boneless.

As his lips trail lower, brushing over your collarbone and onto the swell of your breasts, desire stirs anew in your belly. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before grazing it lightly with his teeth. Your slick cunt clenches around nothing at the sensation.

Your hands find their way into his hair, tangling in the silken strands as he worships your tits. "Sanji..." His name falls from your lips on a needy moan.

He lifts his head, teasing eyes meeting yours. "Want me now?"

"Yes," you whine, arching into him. "I need you inside me."

A slow grin spreads across Sanji's face at your words. "Mmm...who am I to deny a lady what she wants."

You watch as he stands up to slip off his suit jacket and hang it on a hook beside the door. Next is his button-down, which he unbuttons with deft fingers before shrugging it off, folding it, and sitting it on the shelf at the end of the bed. Your breath hitches as his toned chest is revealed to your hungry gaze.

Sanji's hands move to his belt next, unbuckling and pulling the leather free before tossing it aside carelessly. He pops the button of his slacks and drags the zipper down achingly slow.

You swallow thickly as he pushes them down along with his underwear in one smooth motion, freeing his cock. It bobs heavily against his stomach, flushed a deep red, and precum beading at the tip.

“Do you see what you do to me, mon cœur?” Sanji purrs.

Your eyes darken with lust as they roam over Sanji's naked form appreciatively. His body is on full display, from the toned abs to his cock jutting proudly from neatly trimmed blond curls at his groin.

Sanji climbs onto the bed again, crawling up your body. He settles between your spread thighs, the heat of his skin seeping into yours as he presses against you. He captures your mouth in another deep kiss, tongue delving past your lips to tangle with yours.

"God...you’re driving me wild," he groans against your mouth breathlessly before nipping at your bottom lip.

Your hands slide down his back to grip his ass tightly. You roll your hips against his in a blatant invitation, and he lets out a strangled moan.

"You're playing with fire, mon cœur." Sanji smiles, punctuating each word with a grind of his hips.

You both let out twin gasps as the head of his cock nudges demandingly at your slick entrance. Your cunt clenches greedily around nothing, trying to pull him inside.

"Merde… You're so fucking wet," Sanji grits out before sinking into you fully in one smooth thrust.

A long moan tears from your throat at the sudden stretch of being so deliciously filled by him. As he bottoms out, you can feel every ridge and vein rubbing exquisitely along your walls.

For a moment, Sanji stays buried deep inside you, savoring the feeling of finally being inside of you. Then he begins moving–slowly pulling out and gently fucking back into your cunt..

Your hands fist in the sheets above you as you tilt your hips up to meet his steady thrusts, wanting to take him even deeper. The new angle has Sanji groaning deeply.

Sanji's eyes roll back, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he feels your walls gripping him tightly. "Nnngh...you feel so good," he pants out, one hand coming up to cup your breast. He rolls it between his fingers before giving a light pinch to your hardened nipple.

"F-fuck...just like that!" You keen, hands twisting into the sheets harder as Sanji’s cock bullies that spot inside of you that makes sparks shoot across your vision with each drag over it.

"Mmm...I knew this sweet angel cunt would feel like heaven wrapped around my cock," he whines filthily in your ear.

Your body trembles with each deep stroke, Sanji's words sending a rush of heat through your veins. The coil in your stomach tightens, your moans coming faster and higher as he drives you closer to the edge.

"Tighten up around my cock, mon cœur… let me feel you." Sanji hums, continuing his deep and deliberate thrusts into you.

You cry out sharply as he hits that spot again, hips jerking upwards to meet his thrusts. His hand leaves your breast to wrap around your thigh, hoisting it higher over his shoulder.

The new angle has him pounding against that spot with every snap of his hips, pushing you closer to falling apart underneath him. "That's it, cum on my cock," Sanji encourages breathlessly against your neck.

Your walls flutter around him wildly as you teeter on the brink. A particularly hard thrust from Sanji sends you careening over the edge with a silent scream, vision whiting out behind your eyelids from the force of your orgasm.

Sanji groans as he feels you tighten like a vice around his throbbing cock, the rhythmic squeezes of your release milking him for all he's worth. His hips stutter against yours, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his own high.

“Fuck-” He gasps out after a moment, voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. “The way you look when you cum makes me want to see you cum all over again.”

Your breath hitches at his words, already feeling the heat coiling low in your stomach again despite having just come so hard. Sanji notices and smirks down at you wickedly.

“Mmm...I think I'm going to make good on that promise.” He smiles as he flips your positions so you're now straddling him.

His hands land on your hips encouragingly as you sink down onto his waiting cock. You both moan at the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly once again.

“Ah fuck,” You whine lowly as Sanji bottoms out inside you. Your fingers dig into his chest for purchase before you start rolling your hips experimentally over him.

Sanji groans at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut in bliss as your walls clench around him needily. "Mon cœur...move," he urges breathlessly, giving your hips a squeeze.

You oblige by lifting yourself up until only the tip of him remains inside before sinking back down slowly. Sanji curses under his breath, hands guiding your movements.

“Harder,” He demands when you pick up speed, meeting each roll of your hips with a snap upwards of his own.

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room along with Sanji's deep grunts and your keening cries. You feel that telltale coil tightening once more in your stomach as he drives into you wildly from below.

“Gonna cum again,” You warn through gritted teeth moments before seeing stars behind your eyelids once more.

Sanji feels you clenching down on him rhythmically as you fall apart, the wet heat of your release coating his cock. The feeling pushes him over the edge, and with one last deep thrust, he buries himself inside you completely as he cums.

“Merde,” He groans out through gritted teeth, hips twitching sporadically into yours as he empties himself into you with short, sharp thrusts.

After a long moment, Sanji's movements still, and he collapses back onto the bed. His hands loosen their grip on your hips as they fall limply to his sides. You stay where you are for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of him softening inside your sensitive walls before finally lifting off of him carefully.

Aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you at the movement, but neither of you make a sound other than shaky breaths. Sanji pulls you down beside him so your fronts are pressed together.

“Tu es magnifique, mon ange,” He murmurs in satisfaction against your skin before pressing a light kiss just below your jawline.

“Stay with me tonight…forget that sorry excuse of a man. Let him find his own way home.”

You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest. "I'd like that," you reply softly, turning to press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

#one piece smut #sanji smut #sanji x reader #divider creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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fruittt-punchhh · 2 months ago

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useless

Synopsis: you were called in for the night shift unexpectedly, and now have to spend the next - 5 hours - with the on-shift manager, Sukuna. based on this ask.

Characters: Sukuna x reader. Other jjk characters mentioned, but not a major point in the plot.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, manager! Sukuna (sorry, no four-armed, two-cocked royal monster for this one unfortunately), suggestiveness, cursing, mentions of female masturbation, public sex if you squint (outdoors), pet/affectionate names, age gap kiinda, big dick! Sukuna (duh), cunnilingus (m! receiving), probably other stuff i forgot.

Word count: 11.6k (holy SHIT)

Notes: it's time for a new arc on this page bitches. Toji is my one and only forever as you all know but everyone deserves to read ab sucking off their fave fictional character at your imaginary place of work :) @scorpiosugar

“Behind!” you hear someone yell from, well, behind you for the tenth time that hour. It was well past the restaurant’s usual rush hours, but customers were steadily pouring in through the large glass doors you could see through the crowd up front.

You had clocked in a few hours ago, you remind yourself, peering at the ticking clock overhead, silently willing the hour hand to reach ten o’clock already. Only three hours left, you cheer to yourself, trying to remind yourself how good your paycheck would look after picking up the extra shift. Someone had called out earlier, leaving the on shift manager to ring you much too early on your off day, all but begging for your assistance. Regrettably you agreed, knowing the extra money couldn’t hurt. It’s not like you had plans anyway, unfortunately.

Your usual on shift manager was Shoko, and while she ran a tight ship, being in the kitchen was fun with her. She made sure things were done properly, but she didn’t mind if you slacked off as long as your responsibilities were handled first. She even let you take smoke breaks, knowing damn well you didn’t smoke. She recognized your work ethic and wanted to keep you around as long as she could, even if that meant letting you dip out the back door for a fifteen minute breather every now and then.

“Y/n?!” You hear a booming voice to your left, snapping you out of whatever daze you were in.

“You gonna’ run the food or not?” Sukuna asks.

The dreaded Sukuna. You’ve barely worked with him before as he switched to nights almost right after you started, and you were on day shift. While you’ve never had any bad interactions with him, everyone at the restaurant said he was such a pain to work for, and you weren’t willing to find out just how much of a pain he could be today.

You were usually in the back of the restaurant, quickly prepping and cooking whatever stupid order came out of the noisy ticket printer along with the rest of the kitchen staff. However, due to the short staffing on this fine Friday, you were held responsible for not only prepping the meals, but running them to a certain section of tables the other wait staff couldn’t cover. It was only a few tables, but you hated going into the main part of the restaurant. You chose the back for its seclusiveness, and the staff back here were much more enjoyable to be around. Plus, you weren’t a stranger to wiping your hands on your shirt or apron, dirtying up your all black attire soon into every shift. Walking out into the semi-fancy restaurant with a towel tucked into your hip, sauce stains on your apron, and sweat beading at your forehead was not your preferred method of presenting yourself to the…lovely customers.

“S-Sorry, yeah,” you say back quickly, grabbing your tray and hoisting it on top of your shoulder for added support. You bump open the swinging doors with your hip, rushing to your table. You can’t believe you missed the signature ‘ding!’ that accompanied a completed tray. You swore you heard that ding in your sleep, haunting your peaceful moments at rest more than a few times a week. Must have missed it this time, though.

—

Finally. You heave a sigh you had been holding in for the last hour. You had most of your tables cleared or taken care of, and you had a moment in the kitchen to yourself to catch your breath. The night was finally dying down, and you only had a little over an hour left. Maybe you wouldn’t die a slow and painful death in the back of the restaurant tonight, and maybe you’d be able to go home to your cozy bed in due time (almost as if you did every night).

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you turn to look for Sukuna, desperate for a break. It takes a minute, but you run into him (almost literally) as he’s taking a step out of his cramped office.

“Shit, sorry -“

“My bad-“

You both mutter, tripping over the words as you both look for an apology for nearly toppling over one another. You chuckle as he reaches his hand behind his neck, grabbing it and sighing as he lets his arm rest there. You take careful attention to note how his forearms looked like they might split the two buttons neatly fastened at his wrists.

“Can I go on my smoke break now? Just need a few,” you ask, hoping he wouldn’t bust your balls about it.

“Uh, sure, I’ll meet you out there,” he says before he turns back into his office, leaving the door only slightly ajar.

Meet you out there? What was this, a soccer match? You have no time to waste in responding and immediately turn on your heels, shuffling through the crowd of servers, cooks, and busboys galore to the back door.

Sure, he could just need a smoke too. He’s been here far longer than you today and the heavy bags that decorate his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you - or anyone for that matter.

You leave the door propped open behind you with a random piece of wood sitting outside, not wanting to have to bang on the door again for someone to let you in after it automatically locks - a mistake you only let yourself make once twice. The cool air hits you immediately as you search for your trusty milk crate you fashioned as a stool. You try not to get on your phone during your break, only using it to set a timer or check your texts if you had to. You liked to take this time to detach from the busy building behind you, taking in concentrated, steady breaths.

You set the too-short timer on your phone, raising up your hip to slide it back into your rear pocket. On busy days like these, especially days where you were supposed to be off, watching reruns of whatever peaked your fancy on the couch, you felt the need for a cigarette. You used to smoke in your college days at parties or if someone offered, never wanting to cross the line of buying a pack for yourself. You wouldn’t even know what to ask for anyways.

But on days like these, it almost felt necessary. You continue your breathing, leaning your neck down to stretch the sore muscles as you place your face in your hands. You rub your eyes, thanking god you didn’t accidentally pop one out as you received the biggest scare you had in a while.

“Jesus Christ!” You blurt, totally forgetting that your manager was planning on accompanying you for your break. You hadn’t even heard the heavy metal door creek and strain as it opened, there was no flash of light from inside the building, nothing. Weird.

“You meditatin’ or something?” He asks, seeming the most unconcerned you had ever seen him. He reaches behind him, pulling out a shiny, new pack of cigarettes, still tightly wrapped in cellophane. He rips the plastic packaging with his teeth, and it almost looks like he’s flashing a smile at you.

He raises his eyebrows at you with an attitude, non verbally demanding an answer as he hits the pack bottom down on his palm with a loud thwap! thwap!

“No,” you answer plainly, “just on my break.” He pulls a fresh cigarette from the pack before bringing it up to his lips. He pats his pockets, frantically searching for something to accompany his cigarette.

“Got a lighter?” He says, muffled by the thin stick.

“Nope,” you offer, not bothering to throw in an apology like you usually would.

He huffs, turning swiftly back into the restaurant after he mutters a low, ‘useless’ that he assumes you didn’t hear. He yells from inside of the restaurant, asking some shiu? for a lighter.

He’s quickly stepping back outside, cupping the lighter in both hands before he shields the end of his cigarette. He flicks the start wheel, and you try your damndest not to admire how good he looks softly illuminated by the flame. He pulls in a heavy drag as you watch the tip of his cigarette turn to hot ash.

He huffs, blowing out a large cloud into the wind, “Watchu’ starin’ for?”

You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Got nothin’ else to look at. Besides the dumpster, I guess,” you add, motioning to the container of literal hot garbage that was all too close to you two.

“Good to know I’m better to look at than piles of shit,” he says, not attempting to muffle the slight chuckle that escapes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, reaching back into your pocket to check how much time you had left. 8 minutes.

He huffs again, but decides to keep his quip to himself for time’s sake.

“Why aren’t you smoking on your smoke break?” He asks, trying his hardest to appear like he doesn’t actually want to know.

“Dunno’. I don’t smoke that much,” you respond. But it just wasn’t good enough.

“I could snitch on you for that, ya’ know?” He threatens, waiting to see if you’d stand up for yourself or cower meekly like the rest of his subordinates when he applied even the slightest pressure.

You laugh, “Do it then. Shoko doesn’t care,” you tell him truthfully. She knew from the jump you didn’t smoke and still allowed it, stating that if anyone tried to bitch at you for it to blame it on her. Which you wholeheartedly did.

“Good for her,” he adds, not knowing whether to be offended or impressed by your brevity. “But right now, I’m your manager,” he says as he crouches down, wanting to look you eye to eye.

You ignore the flush you feel rise up your neck. You felt yourself fawning under his gaze, paying too much attention to the purse of his lips as he took yet another extended drag of his cigarette.

You had to keep your composure, even though he wasn’t the ugliest person you’d ever seen. You were used to standing up for yourself in the kitchen. Being a woman in a kitchen environment is not for the weak, and this fact you knew too well. You didn’t even feel like you were that attractive, but you couldn’t count on all fingers and toes how many hands you’ve had to swat back or advances you’ve had to decline from the creepy older men that worked beside you.

You didn’t want to spend the - you check - 6 minutes you had left on your break arguing with a manager you barely knew.

“Then gimme’ one or I’ll go back in,” you offer. You hated to ask, but a cigarette may help you chug through this last hour of your shift.

He smirks, pressing his hand on his knee to help himself stand. You’re hidden in his shadow now, only faintly lit by the dim street light nearby. He reaches in his pocket again, letting out a sigh as he meets your question with a proposition: “Close for me, then sure. You can even restart your fuckin’ timer for all I care.” He adds, becoming annoyed by how often you were checking your phone in front of him, as if you didn’t want to be outside with him or something.

He has to be kidding. It was Friday and the restaurant closed at 1, and with how busy it was, you’d be lucky to be out of there by 2:30.

“Close?!” You say with the upmost attitude you can muster. He was insane if he thought you were staying that long.

“Choose,” is all he says before he reaches one hand towards the doorknob, the other outstretched to you, a fresh cigarette in hand.

Fuck. You ran through the pros and cons in your mind. The money wouldn’t hurt, but you were so tired. Your feet were aching and your back was in knots. But again, the money. The sole reason you took this extra shift in the first place. The extra fifteen minutes plus a cigarette seemed enough to convince you in the needy state you were in. You were ready to accept your fate before Sukuna butts in with a… countdown?

“Three,” he spits, growing impatient.

You wanted to test that patience. Maybe it was the rumors you’d heard about big, bad Sukuna.

“Two.”

But maybe it was the way he looked towering over you, presenting you with options he had selfishly picked, not caring for a compromise. He was the manager after all.

“O-,”

“Gimme that,” you interrupt, reaching to grab the cigarette out of his cold hand. You hate that you noticed his hands, but the dim lighting outside provided you little room to work with in terms of hand eye coordination. Your fingertips brush his lightly, and you would have thought he was losing circulation if you didn’t know any better.

He leans back against the wall as he watches you restart your timer, purposefully ignoring the previous brush of your manicured hands against his.

You motion for him to hand you the lighter, to which he smirks, crossing his large arms across his chest.

“Nope,” he mimics your word from earlier, putting extra emphasis on the ‘p’ sound with a pop of his lips. He was doing anything to get under your skin.

“What do you mean nope?” You ask as you take the cigarette back out of your mouth.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he teases.

14 minutes.

You were too old for this shit.

You stand abruptly, turning back into the restaurant as you swing the door open with a huff. Sukuna squints behind you, the bright kitchen lights burning his sleep deprived eyes. You rush to his office, pilfering through drawer after drawer to find a lighter. You knew the desk well - it was shared by all the managers. You and Shoko had many conversations in this office after closing time, enjoying each others company as she complained about the weird customers you’d have throughout the night.

Bingo. A bright red lighter peeks out from underneath some old mail, a faint, small ‘s’ written on the side in black sharpie. How cute. Maybe his mom sewed his initials into his undies, too.

You’re already lighting the cigarette before the door closes behind you, pulling in a much needed puff as you sit down back on your crate, and you are far from the picture of grace. Hair messy, face sweaty, and you nearly tumble off the crate from the sheer force of sitting down with such an attitude.

Sukuna tries to avoid your gaze as you come back out, instead occupying himself with following the small beads of sweat that fall down your temple. The sweaty, curled hair by your ears. The sleepy, heavy eyes that cut him such a nasty look.

You pull in and sigh, thankful for the fifteen minute vice you’ve allowed yourself for the night.

“Hm - that’s mine,” he taunts, surprised you were so forward to go through his desk. He’d have to talk to you about that later.

You hold it up, showing him the little ‘s’ on the side with a sarcastic smile. You toss it to him without warning, laughing to yourself as he misses entirely, dropping it on the ground at his feet.

“Clumsy,” you mutter, and you swear his eyes widen slightly, followed by a barely noticeable pink hue across his nose.

No one ever spoke to him like this. His employees seemed so frightened by him, although he couldn’t say for sure why. He was stern, but he noticed most of his attempts at ‘bonding’ with his workers fell short. He felt himself fulfilling the role of the angry, harsh manager more often than he’d like to admit.

You grew uncomfortable with each moment - the silence was deafening as you tried to find something to say, but he beats you to it.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier,” he professes, actively avoiding your gaze. Although you were busy looking at the dumpster as opposed to him, he wouldn’t know. He kept his eyes trained on his feet. He hated apologizing.

“What?” You ask simply. You knew what moment he was referring too, but you needed to milk this rare vulnerability he was showing.

“Jesus.. earlier. I raised my voice. The fuckin’ bell’s messed up and I guess you didn’t hear it.”

So you weren’t going insane! It made you feel better knowing it was (or wasn’t?) a figment of your imagination. But you felt a little bad for the guy. His macho attitude was long gone as he tokes his cigarette, still avoiding eye contact.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you offer, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m not,” he spits, meeting your gaze with his once more. You hate that it gives you goosebumps.

“Sounds like it, to me,” you say, trying to hold your smile.

“Just explaining. Not apologizing. Two different things.” He says harshly. He really did not appreciate you trying to take advantage of his half-apology.

You fail at finding something to say, letting the silence linger for too long again. You were desperate for his break to be over, but he seemed to be intent on staying with you the entire time.

6 minutes.

“Why’d you switch to nights?” You begin, needing to cut the tension with something. You were curious if he was maybe in school or had some responsibilities that kept him busy during the day.

Again, that small blush. The barely there crimson hues spreads further than last time, covering his cheeks and if you weren’t mistaken, his ears. With his hair, he was turning to a pastel strawberry before your very eyes.

He clears his throat, “You looked like trouble,” he admits.

You’re hit with a flood of confusion. Most importantly, the reason he switched was because of you? Secondly, why did he have to use that phrase? It was more demeaning than he knew, and quite frankly -

“For me,” he finishes.

“What?” You huff, growing frustrated with his choice of words.

“You looked like trouble for me,” he corrects himself.

What the hell does that even mean?

He notices the utter confusion painted on your pretty face. He throws his cigarette on the ground beneath him, smushing it out before he grabs the lighter from his feet.

Turning back into the restaurant, he answers your unsaid question.

“I tend to go after women that look like you,” is all he says before he’s back in the restaurant, making sure to close the door tightly behind him.

Go after? What was he, a fucking tiger?

You can’t lie and act like the compliment (?) didn’t make your ego swell a bit. But switching his entire schedule because he was, what, scared of you? Worried he might “come after” you? You needed to know more, simply to have gossip for when you work with Shoko next.

Your timer still reads 4 minutes left, but your craving for the cigarette has long since subsided. You snuff it out, wringing your hands together before rubbing them on your jeans, desperate to get the sickly smell off of your fingertips.

From inside the restaurant, you can sense an influx of tickets printing. You hear feet start to bustle about, pots and pans clanging together, and that same loud voice barking orders at his employees. You only had three minutes left, but you couldn’t get the last 20 out of your mind. You’d find a point to bring it up to him later, you were sure of it.

You stand with a grunt, stretching your arms over your head before you turn to face the door - that Sukuna had so graciously shut behind him. You bang on the door with a closed fist, a loud boom! boom! boom! echoing through the nearly vacant lot behind you.

After your eighth or so hit, the handle turns, and you’re met with tufts of pink hair before anything else. You scoff.

“Missed me that much, huh?” He teases, and you’re taken aback. All of the previous conversation you had with him could be taken totally innocently, all except for that last minute or so. But you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking he was outright flirting with you.

You roll your eyes, shoving past him as he chuckles. You weren’t going to be stuck here with him until the wee hours of the morning, so it’s best you get started on your closing tasks asap. You didn’t close all too often, and you didn’t want to get overwhelmed with the responsibilities of shutting down the restaurant for the night.

You get back to your station, quickly catching up with what entree is currently being prepped. You try to keep your hands and mind busy, well aware of Sukuna’s looming presence in the kitchen. Before your actual smoke break, you tried your best to avoid him, not wanting to become subject to his bitching if you weren’t on your A-game. Now, you felt like being on this supposed A-game was impossible. You were exhausted, your body ached, and you were somehow convinced to close despite the very loud voice in your head protesting that decision.

Now, you had to deal with Sukuna’s gaze peering into the back of your skull. It made you nervous and you hated that, hated that you allowed him even an inkling of control over how you felt. But you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend it didn’t affect you. You had to remind yourself that this was your manager, at least for tonight, and you were his employee. His stare was probably nothing more than a desperate attempt at calling you out on a mistake.

Right?

Is all you can ask yourself when you turn towards the trash can, potato peels in your cupped hands, when you catch him staring. He was leaned against a wall behind you, notepad in hand with the end of his pen affixed between his teeth. His eyes were glued to your ass before he scans your full body, taking in all of you before his eyes meet yours. Both of your eyes widen, shocked at how openly he was ogling your body. You feel the familiar blush rise up your neck again, and you couldn’t mistake a similar one appearing on Sukuna’s face. It was a brighter pink under the fluorescence of the kitchen lights. He threads his hand through his hair before he rushes to Nobara, quick to reprimand her for overcooking a steak. As if he wasn’t just drinking in the image of you.

You had to find time to talk to him, and soon. While you weren’t incredibely angry that he seemed to be interested in you, you didn’t want to assume he was incorrectly.

Another ticket prints as you’re placing the rest of your current ticket on the tray in front of you, ringing the stupid bell extra hard to ensure the wait staff hear it. You grab the ticket before you let out an exaggerated heave - it was a dessert order. Almost all of the desserts at the restaurant were pre-frozen or in the walk in, and there was never any actual cooking involved for the most part. You wipe your hands on your apron, turning for the walk in.

You yank on the comically large handle, the freezing air covering you in chills. The particular order had a side of ice cream, so you walk through the cool part of the walk in to the freezer door, yanking again on another stupid handle. The air in the freezer was nothing compared to the cooler, and you could already see your fingers turning red underneath the LED bulb above the door. The walk in was a mess, and the freezer even more so. You squat near the door, pilfering through the many items adorning the shelves. It didn’t help that the ice cream container was in a large cardboard box, similar to nearly every item in the freezer.

You stand, ready to step to the next shelf in your quest for ice cream, until you feel a nudge on your back, followed by a brief ‘scuse me’ from a now familiar voice. For the second time that night, he scares you so badly you think you could faint.

“Why are you so fuckin’ quiet?” You hiss, to which he shoots you a confused look from over his shoulder. He was pulling in a cart from the make line, full of containers and sauce bottles. He walked in back first, leaving nothing to your imagination as his tight black button up hugged his… very muscular back. It’s not like you knew him well at all, but you didn’t know him to be an avid gym-goer.

“Gonna’ help me or you wanna’ keep eye fucking me?” He grunts, failing to notice how all of your breath was caught in your chest.

Eye fucking? I mean yeah, you were admiring him. But you hadn’t even thought about anything sexual. Up until now. You felt delirious being up so late, and it had been a while since you got laid. And he still wasn’t the ugliest person on the planet.

He shifts to the other side of the cart, grabbing the necessary items and putting them on their applicable shelf. You notice how he’s able to grab nearly everything single-handed, whereas it took you both hands and a hoist of your knee to get some of the heavier items up on the high shelves. His hands were large with clean, neat nails trimmed short underneath a layer of shiny black polish. His sleeves were bundled at the midway of his forearms, revealing two black banded tattoos that wrapped around each of his wrists. You wondered if those were the only ones.

He lifts a heavier box over his head, shoving it in a back corner of the top shelf. You can’t miss the slight untuck of his shirt, the hardened ‘v’ that appears from underneath, and the tufts of blonde hair, starting at his belly button, trailing down to his -

“Eye fuckin’ it is then, huh?” He laughs as he turns to face you, leaning on the cart with one arm. His other arm is busy lazily tucking his shirt back in, his large hand repeatedly dipping underneath his waistband to smooth his shirt over his pelvis. You swear the shirt is tucked in enough, and has been for the last few seconds as he continues tucking and smoothing the fabric. He notices your eyes dart to his hand and he decides to leave it in his waistband, a feeble attempt to warm his cold hands and keep your attention trained to his waist. You stumble over your words, not even bothering to find an explanation.

“What is going on here? Like.. what are you trying to do?” You ask.

“What?” He scoffs, refusing to believe you’d call him out on his long glances and repeated attempts to be near you.

You cross your arms, shivering, as you wait for him to respond with an answer.

He pauses.

“Can we talk about it not in the freezer?” He asks, crossing both arms over his large chest as he’s shivering now too.

“Where then?” You ask, surprised that he even knew what the ‘it’ was you were referring to.

“Meet me in the cooler when you’ve finished your tickets,” he adds before he’s grabbing the cart and pushing the freezer door open into the cooler to leave.

So it wasn’t just your imagination. You had no clue where this conversation could lead, but you were eager to see. Now, finishing your tickets was the priority, which brings you back to the ice cream. Oh. Sukuna had replaced it when he came in and you were too busy gawking to notice. You grab the container, rushing out of the walk in to be met with a loud yelp from Nobara, exclaiming that she thought you’d died in there. Seems you weren’t the only one getting scared tonight.

You only had four more tickets, and one was a drink order for the bar, thankfully. You rush to finish, needing the customers gone as soon as possible so you could start fully cleaning the back. You definitely weren’t rushing so you could talk to Sukuna. Definitely.

In your hurry, you spill sauce onto your workstation close to the edge, some of it spilling onto your apron. Instinctually, you scoot your hips back from the table quickly in an attempt to avoid further dirtying your clothes, to no avail. In your motion, you accidentally thrust your hips into something - no, someone, behind you. While bumping into someone in the kitchen is no rare occasion, you could tell by the huff of breath let out behind you that the hips you just pushed your ass on belonged to Sukuna.

Was he hard?

You felt embarrassed even thinking of a question like that, but it was for good reason. The half-second you had your hips aligned with his allowed you to feel some sort of.. length pushed against you. There was no mistaking it. You look back to him over your shoulder as he’s stepping away from you, and he rolls his eyes at you. Not in a good, ‘oh god her ass is heavenly’ type of way. In a, ‘you can do better than that’ type of way.

One more hour.

You finish your tickets, taking extra precautions not to make any more messes. You go to look for Sukuna, but he’s nowhere to be found. He’s not in the kitchen, and his office door is propped open to an empty seat. You ask a coworker if they’ve seen him, and they only answer with a shrug. You glance to the back door, and it’s closed shut. You head to the walk in anyways, assuming he’ll meet you there in due time.

Until the door is pushed into you. A large hand grabs your wrist, pulling you in. You’re yanked into the cold and backed into the door before you can even let out a gasp. Sukuna stands opposite you, eyes too hooded and low for you to discern how he may be feeling (not that you care).

“Talk,” he says, waiting for you to lead.

“I’m the one that asked you the question. Remember?” You ask, adding a sarcastic smile for good measure.

“You asked me two questions. Remember?” He asks, pitching his voice an octave or two to mimic you.

At this point, you didn’t remember what the hell you asked specifically. You were so drained from the day you could have asked him ten questions and you’d be none the wiser. You nod your head 'no'.

“You wanted to know ‘what’s going on here’ and ‘what I’m trying to do’. Two different questions, woman.”

The nickname makes you squirm internally. You felt desperate - too desperate even. You knew he had a few years on you, although you didn't know how many. You were in your mid-twenties and he couldn't have been more than thirty-five. But still, the difference was there. Even if you two shared a birth year, he was still in a position of power over you. Regardless of how often you two worked together, he was a manager, and you were a line cook. Every voice in your mind is begging you to leave, but your feet are glued to the cold metal floor.

“Yeah, s-sorry. What is going on?”

He notices your nervousness and he wishes it didn’t make him feel so fucking flustered. Last time he checked, he wasn’t a horny teenager anymore.

“Well, we’re unfortunately at our place of employment, on the clock. I’m your manager. You’re my employee,” he says, taking the smallest step towards you, ”and that about covers it. Unless you think there’s something else going on.”

There’s no way he’s trying to pull the fucking stupid card.

“I know there’s something else going on, Sukuna. I saw you staring,” you spit. You caught him swallowing after you said his name, which would have been cuter if you weren’t currently freezing to death.

“Just because I stare doesn’t mean something’s going on,” he says with a smirk, shamelessly letting his eyes trail your body again, lingering when his eyes meet your chest to commit to memory how your nipples cut through your shirt in the cold of the walk in.

You huff, raising your voice to emphasize your point, “Then why are you walking around with a fuckin’ hardon?”

You barely notice the muffled ‘I wasn’t’ before Sukuna’s eyes widen as you feel a weight leave your back. You could barely process someone was trying to come in the walk in by the time Sukuna is crowding your space, one hand flying to the bulky handle to keep the door closed, the other reaching to cover your mouth. His body is slightly pressed to yours and his scent is invading your every thought. He smells masculine - musky and woodsy, like he had been out in the rain. His hands were harsh on your face, pushing down onto you with more force than you thought necessary. His thumb cupped under your chin, long, thick fingers nearly touching your ear as they stretch across your now beet-red cheeks. His chest and arms flexed in front of you as he kept the door shut, and you had to shut your eyes for fear of being caught staring.

The almost-intruder gives up, releasing the handle as the both of you let out a breath. The white, smoke-like air leaving his mouth in the cool air of the walk in clouded your vision as he removes his hand from your mouth, but not the door. He couldn’t risk having someone else barge in and it gave him an excuse to have you against the wall in front of him, albeit not in the way he would have preferred.

You two lock eyes, almost panting from the intensity of what just happened. You both look at each other’s lips, with Sukuna’s eyes flicking between your lips and eyes more often than yours.

You lick your lips, feeling like you were under a spotlight with how intensely he’s meeting your gaze. He was about to speak before you interrupt him, suddenly remember his admission from earlier.

“You weren’t hard?” You ask, and he laughs. The first real laugh you’ve got out of him the entire night.

“No, no I wasn’t, hah. Why do you care?”

You felt stupid but there was no way he wasn’t hard. He must be lying because you couldn’t have imagined what you felt. There was no mistaking the size, the length, the heat. It had to be.

“Then what was it?” You ask, patiently waiting for him to find an excuse.

Until he hits you with a, “my dick,” that knocks the wind from your gut. The shit-eating grin that plasters his face sends a warmth to your groin you haven’t felt in a while.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask, and he pouts, mocking your sheepish attitude.

“I don’t understand what you’re so confused about, girl. You’re the one that rubbed your ass on my dick. Doesn’t mean it was hard,” he shrugs.

You remember how big he felt even through the layers of clothing, and it scared you. That was him soft? You were starting to wonder what you’d gotten yourself into. But you had no clue how to respond to that. You couldn’t just compliment him on his soft dick. Weird.

“Well, you still didn’t answer both questions.”

He huffs out a chuckle, remembering the previously avoided ‘what are you trying to do?’

He looks at you, lost in thought. He scans your face before he’s reaching his hand towards yours shoved in your pocket. He extends his palm, motioning for you to place your hand in his. You oblige, pulling your hand out of your pocket before he’s grabbing your wrist, completing enveloping it in his large palm.

He leans closer to you, placing his left cheek on yours as he speaks into your ear.

“I think you know what I’m trying to do, y/n.”

He grips your wrist tighter, leading it to his groin to present you with his now undeniably hard dick. You stifle a gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of his breath on your ear, cold cheek against your burning one, hard length now sitting heavy in your palm, twitching under your light touch. Now you know why you thought he was hard earlier. He was a shower and a grower, and the sinful thoughts that filled your mind did nothing to stop you from sliding your hand down further, to see just how much of a grower he really was. You knew you should protest this firmly, tell him he’s wrong for lusting after his subordinate, and clock out to seal the deal. But the stifled ‘mmph’ you hear to your left after you squeeze around his tip, precum leaking through his pants, has you questioning why you’d even think to leave. The wetness you thought you had under control was becoming a problem as it slowly soaked through your panties.

He pulls away from your ear, flicking your hand away with a tsk before he’s closing in on you once more, grabbing your chin so you can look up at him properly.

“Since when are you so greedy, huh? So eager? Didn’t tell you to start strokin’ it, now did I? Or are you that much of an overachiever like I’ve heard? I had to beg you to close f’me so I doubt it’s that.” He trails off, bombarding you with questions that warm your face again and you’re sure you have a fever at this point.

You huff out a hushed ‘fuck you’ to which he laughs.

He raised his fist up and starts pounding on the closed walk in door. His force is so brutal, he has to grab the handle to keep it closed as he hammers away at the door.

“That a promise?” is all he asks before he’s shoving the both of you out of the walk in, tripping over each other’s feet as you shoot him a confused look.

He ignores you, yelling out a loud “helloooo?” to the kitchen staff that just witnessed you two stumble out of the cooler.

Nobara rushes up, worry painted on her face as she grabs your wrists, stabilizing you as you catch your balance.

“Sir?” She mutters, looking just as confused as you were.

“We were locked in there for like, ten fucking minutes. No one noticed me beating the damn door down?” He yells. Your face grows redder as you look at Nobara struggle for a response.

“I-It’s fine, really. The handle just got stuck and he was too weak to get it open. He's kinda' useless,” which earns a laugh from more than just Nobara. Sukuna cuts you a look, flaring his nostrils as he’s walking off with a pout to his office. How pathetic.

You dust off your clothes, relieved to see there’s no more tickets printing off. Most of the remaining staff had started on their closing tasks while you and Sukuna were busy fraternizing in the walk in. Although Sukuna left with an attitude, you still couldn’t ignore the pool in your underwear and the ever-present pulse you felt throb with each tick of the clock.

The restaurant has mostly died down by now, with only a few lingering patrons at the bar and a couple or two still left in the dining area. Clean dishes were piling up on the right side of the sink and you were only left with the bare minimum cookware at your station. You see Sukuna walk into the lobby of the restaurant, not so subtly urging the remaining customers to leave. Most of the patrons pack up their things, only leaving a few stragglers behind.

By now, all of the wait staff had clocked out and left long ago. The clock read a depressing ‘2:23’ as you wipe down your workstation with a damp towel, sweeping the crumbs and leftover trash into the floor. Sukuna is busy finishing off the tills, counting the last of the register’s change. The dishwasher is finally packing his things, heading to the front computer to clock out with a tired ‘see ya’.

You were busy sweeping around your station, leading all the way to the walk in.

“Move,” he says, grabbing the back of your pants by the belt loop and pulling him behind you. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed his touch, sighing with relief as you realize you two were the only ones still on the clock. He had a piece of paper in one hand, reaching up with the other to remove the thumbtacks from the old schedule on the bulletin board in front of you two. You glance at the schedule and your neck nearly cracks with how hard you do a double-take. You expected your usual 8-4, maybe some 9-5 shifts on the days you usually worked. But this new schedule has you scheduled for nights only. Conveniently, nights that Sukuna is the manager. You peer at the schedule, looking for the large, bold-printed ‘OFF’, and you see that you’re off in two days. You look at the top of the schedule, nothing that Sukuna’s ‘OFF’ day is the same day, too.

Sukuna had already started to walk off as you processed this new schedule. You take a step towards him, grabbing his forearm in an attempt to pull him back to you. His walk is so confident and assured that he pulls you almost an entire step forward before he turns on his heels, suddenly mere inches from your space. His proximity has you at a loss for words, mouth agape as you search your mind for whatever it was you were about to say.

“Yes?” He asks, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth daring to turn into a smile.

“U-uh.. sorry, why did you schedule me for n-nights?” You mutter, spiteful at how the words seemed to die in your throat.

He takes a step back, releasing his arm from your gasp as he straightens his tie, giving you room to finally breathe.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that the employee that called out earlier has the flu.”

“But-“ you try to interject.

“She won’t be in the rest of the week, and how you’re looking at me right now tells me you’d like to be here with me again tomorrow,” is all he says before he’s returning to his office, crumbling up the old schedule as he’s closing the door behind him.

You clear your throat, trying to regather your dignity as you continue sweeping. You were frustrated with how much of an affect he has over you in the short amount of time, but your interactions throughout the day has left you craving more of his presence. His touch still lingers on your skin, reminding you just how often he had touched you during the shift.

You start to gather the trash in the dustpan, standing up to turn around to Sukuna leaving his office. Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks out in nothing but a black tank top, silver chain adorning his neck. You have full view of his numerous tattoos trailing down his arms, over his shoulders, even some that look like they might reach down his chest. He was walking to lock up the front as you finished sweeping and mopping. You grip the broom tighter, trying to ground yourself. Your body temperature was higher than usual and your hands were so sweaty. It felt all too hot in the restaurant, even hotter than it felt with the rest of the kitchen staff on the clock, ovens and fryers ablaze. You take a deep breath and lean the broom against the wall, heading for the back door. You needed some air and being in the same building as Sukuna made you feel like you had to fight for breath.

The cool air instantly calms your nerves as you walk to the side of the building, leaning down to put your hands on your knees. You take a deep breath, running your sweaty palms on your jeans. You had to get yourself together, you tell yourself over and over again. Regardless of how good he looked, how… intrigued he made you feel, you were stuck with him for the rest of the week. You couldn’t take a smoke break every time Sukuna cut his eyes at you or let his hands invade your personal space. While you couldn’t lie to yourself like you didn’t enjoy it, you’re still a grown woman that wouldn’t be caught dead melting under another man’s touch so easily. You preferred things the other way around, enjoying the power you felt when you -

SLAM!

A loud, resounding boom echoed through the parking lot as Sukuna crosses your peripheral, two full, black trash bags slung over his shoulder. He fails to notice you around the side of the building in the dim light before he reaches the dumpster, flinging both heavy bags into the can with ease.

He startles slightly as he sees you, fully expecting you to be inside the restaurant finishing your sweeping. You were too busy admiring him to process that the door had slammed. As in, shut. As in, no way to get back into the building unless Sukuna has the keys, shut. You both seem to realize your grim fate simultaneously, eyes widening as you scramble to find the answers you both needed. You take steps towards him as he’s rushing to you, frantically searching his pockets.

“Please tell me you have the keys-“

“Since when are you outside?”

“Do you not have the keys? How are we supposed-“

“You were supposed to be inside, y/n,” he interrupts yet again, turning out every pocket in search of the large loop of miscellaneous keys. His face is flushed as he peers down at you, obviously embarrassed he was so foolish to trust you’d be inside the restaurant and irresponsible enough to leave the back door without the keys in hand.

He sighs as do you, unsure of what step to take next. He starts pacing, hands running through his hair as he searches for a solution. You gasp quietly, searching your pockets and praising god your phone was still on you. You rescind that praise when you realize that was the only one of your belongings you had. No keys, wallet, purse, anything. In your panic, you rush to the back door, putting all of your body weight into twisting and pulling the handle. It’s locked without a shadow of a doubt, but Sukuna still shoves you to the side as he attempts to open the door. Although his strength seems incomprehensible, he still struggled to open the door. Every muscle in his arms, back, and chest were rippling and contorting as he fully leans back with force in an attempt to rip the door from its hinges. Nothing.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” You ask, dumbfounded at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

He huffs, leaning against the wall beside you as he puts his hand into his pocket, still silently hoping the keys would magically appear.

“What all did you have left in there?”

“Uh, just the sweeping and mopping. Did you finish the tills?” You ask, trying to assess the damage that the morning shift would be subject to.

“Yeah, yeah all my shit’s done, just had to do the fuckin’ trash. Shit.” He curses, rubbing his face in his hands.

You hadn’t realized just how close you two were now. There was still plenty of breathing room between the two of you, but as you both lean against the wall, his arm brushes yours and both of you linger at the contact, consciously continuing the skin on skin exposure.

Sukuna had plenty of plans that were so rudely interrupted by the stupid fucking door. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how your hands felt on his length, how you looked up at him, hopeful that he would do something more to you. He had plans of ravishing you in the restaurant - partly to boost his ego, and partly to have you reminisce on the experience each time you walked into the building, with or without him. But all plans were effectively crushed as soon as that back door shut.

“Do you not make it a habit to keep the keys on you? Like, at all times?” You ask, confused as to why he would leave them sitting around anyway.

He turns to face you, rolling his eyes as he does so.

“No, I don’t keep the thirty-pound key ring on me at all times. You’re the one that came out here without letting me know!” He adds, throwing his hands in the air, trying to find anyone to blame except himself.

You scoff, surprised he was trying to turn this on you, “Well I needed some fucking air. You want me to tell you every time I go to the walk in or the bathroom, too?”

He laughs, offended, “You need to tell me when you leave the premises. The premises being the inside of the restaurant.”

You start to respond before he’s interrupting you per usual, closing in on your space as he places his right hand to the side of your head, leaning it on the wall to face you directly. You avert your gaze, embarrassed at how meek you felt when he looked at you in this way. But you knew he wanted you, at least in some way - that you knew for sure.

“Why did you need air? Closin’ too much for you, huh little baby? Can’t handle all that… responsibility?” He asks, making your knees almost buckle. Sure, girl was one thing, but baby?

But you still had to hold your ground.

“I am perfectly capable of closing, thank you. I needed a break from you,” you admit, not realizing how harsh it sounded until after you spoke it.

And he is appalled. With the way you were acting, you seemed like a break was the last thing you needed.

“A break? From me? What makes you think that, hm?” He asks as you still avoid his gaze, eyes glued to the way his chest moved in an even, up-down motion as he took steady breaths.

“W-Well, I -“

“Uh uh. Look at me when you speak, y/n,” he commands, taking just his pointer finger to draw your chin up to him, meeting your eyes with his.

“I-I dunno’, you just make me feel… weird? Not bad weird, just… different,” You admit, trying to say anything but ‘you make me wet’. Your response makes him chuckle.

He reaches his hand towards your forehead, prodding it with an exaggerated poke as he asks, “Do I make you feel weird here?”

You smile, furrowing your brows as you let out a simple ‘no’ with a shrug. He nods in understanding, motioning for you to follow him as he grabs your wrist. He pulls you around the side of the building, in an area much darker than previously. You look around as your back meets the wall, noting how the only visible cameras were pointing at the spot you two just occupied. Sukuna moves closer to you, leaving multiple points of contact between you two as you mentally count them all - how his knee is between your legs, how his hand that was on the wall before is now back, but much closer to your head, resting somewhat on your shoulder, how his other hand has now left your wrist, being replaced on your hipbone. His thumb presses in, harder than you think he realizes, and with how pent up you’ve been feeling it takes a great deal of strength not to ravish him on the spot.

He leaves his hand there for a brief moment before he takes the same thumb and slides it along your stomach, stopping when he reaches your navel. His thumb shifts only an inch downwards before he presses into the squish underneath your belly button multiple times, akin to a doctor feeling for abnormalities.

“If it’s not your head… is it here?” He asks with a particularly hard jab for emphasis.

“I make you feel weird in your tummy? Hm?” He finishes with a smirk, now soothing his pokes and prods with gentle circles traced with his thumb.

If you thought you were plenty wet earlier, you had no idea what this type of touch would do to you. He wasn’t even touching you anywhere important yet, leaving you stuck trying to suppress even a hint of a whine from escaping. Your clit was pulsing with your heartbeat which was at an all time high. It’s almost as if Sukuna realizes this as you do, chuckling as he moves his two fingers and thumb up to your neck, wrapping around it slightly as he searches for your pulse. Worry flashes across his face for but a moment before he’s laughing again, removing his hand before he reiterates his question with a simple ‘yes or no?’.

“A-A little, yeah,” you admit and your breath hitches at his response.

His voice was darker now, barely audible over the hum of the street light.

“Oh, I see,” he says as he dares to reach his hand lower, impossibly lower. You refuse to let your eyes trail, instead relying on the feeling of his single fingernail scraping through the outside of your clothes before he stops at your belt.

He catches you off guard, moving a mere inch away from your face as he cups your jaw, pulling you into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. You barely have time to react, kissing him with your eyes widened in shock. He pulls away too quickly, only allowing you to taste him for a short second before he continues his diagnostics.

‘S’not your head, not really your tummy,” dragging out the vowels in ‘really’ to make you wait another second longer.

His hand cups you through your pants, immediately rubbing small circles beneath your mound, stimulating your clit so roughly with the seam of your jeans you have to grab onto his arm for leverage.

“Must be your cunt causin’ all these problems,” he finishes as he meets your lips with his again, all tongue and teeth - which was a necessity for the both of you at this point. The tension that built slowly throughout the night had left you both eager for one another, and it was obvious with how frantic you were for him, whining as you throw your other arm over his shoulder to bring him even closer than he already was. You feel his now half-hard length push into your upper thigh before you reach your hand down to play with the hem of his pants. His abdomen clenches under your touch, rigid muscles flexing enough to be noticed through his tight shirt.

His hand that had found place in your hair tugs lightly as he pulls away from your lips, instead kissing along your cheek towards your ear.

“I thought this was all about her,” he whispers, pushing his two middle fingers harshly into your clit for emphasis, rubbing down firmly on your bundle of nerves as you threaten to fall apart.

“But now you wanna’ be greedy again? You already got to touch me once, y/n,” and you can hear the smile on his face as he says it, “If she’s the one makin’ you feel weird, maybe she’s the one that deserves my attention, yeah? Don’t you want me to make her feel better?” He says, swirling his tongue on the shell of your ear before biting your lobe, playfully pulling it until it snaps back into place. He knows your answer without hearing it, even before the furious nod of your head in agreeance.

He has you so pliant, so willing underneath him. You can’t resist bucking your hips into his hands when he fiddles with the buttons on your jeans, unzipping your pants ever so slowly before he has his mouth on your neck again, sucking and leaving marks that’d be sure to stay for days.

In the suspended unzipping, your mind wanders to the last time you’ve had sex with someone. It had been so many months, you weren’t sure if you remembered who it was. You cared less and less about how things looked down there, shaving every now and then when you got the urge. Which leads you to your current predicament.

“S-Sukuna, I.. I haven’t shaved. In like, a-a week or two,” you stutter quickly, trying to get the words out before he discovers on his own.

His fingers dip beneath your panties regardless, palm flattening against your lower stomach to reach down towards your heat. He lets out a grunt as he finally makes contact with your mound, stating a blunt, “good,” in response to your previous admission.

His long, deft fingers reach further to part your slit, his middle finger running through your folds to gather your slick as he works hard to keep his eyes from rolling into his skull.

“Knew I wouldn’t need any spit, ain’t that right?” He coos, not expecting anything but a gasp from you as his finger makes contact with your clit, finally.

And by god, how have you never been touched like this before?

His fingers rub you so skillfully, even better than you were able to. You were no stranger to masturbation, but the way his fingers felt on you now was unlike anything you’ve felt before. He circled your clit with planned, assured movements - if the smug look on his face wasn’t enough to show you just how confident he was in his ability to please you. His touch was perfect - no movement too under or overstimulating. He was so carefully bringing you closer to your peak with each intoxicating circle, steadily building his pace as he watched you fall victim to your pleasure with each passing moment. His lips are latched to your chest now, his other hand undoing just enough buttons so he can grab you properly without your pesky clothes in the way. He pulls your restrictive sports bra down with a harsh tug, freeing your tits for only a second before his mouth is latched to you, pulling and sucking at your nipples.

“Can’t believe - mmph, you’ve been.. hiding these from me,” he says, entranced at how the light hits your chest as it heaves up and down, your frantic breathing becoming more erratic and choppy, signaling your oncoming breaking point.

“K-Kuna, I’m -“ you try to warn him that you wouldn’t last much longer until your breath is ripped from your lungs.

“How cute,” he says, chastising the nickname you gave him. In one fluid motion, he takes his two middle fingers and slides them down and inside of you, replacing his thumb on your clit, quickly continuing the dizzying circles on your bud as he pumps into you - one thrust, then another, and you lose it entirely as he clamps down on your nipple with his teeth. You look down at him, making brief eye contact before involuntarily letting your eyes roll back, your lip pinched between your teeth as you succumb to the pleasure he so expertly gave you.

He looked surprised that you were finishing so quickly, eyes wide when you look down at him as you clamp so tightly around his digits. You continue clamping around him repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm, becoming louder by the second before he kisses you again, attempting to stifle your moans from echoing in the vacant lot. With one final swipe of your clit he pulls his hand free, immediately backing away to suck you off of his own fingers, grunting once he finally gets a taste of you properly. As if on instinct, his hand snakes his way underneath your panties again to caress your pussy, rubbing his hand in sloppy motions to coat himself in your juices thoroughly. He pulls away again, licking his fingers one by one with an eager grin.

“Ever had a taste?” He asks, wiping his filthy mouth clean.

To be fair, you had, but you wanted to see what he’d do if you said no. So you did.

He responds by taking your chin in his still wet hand, lolling his tongue out as he ravishes you in an open-mouthed kiss. You return the gesture, tasting yourself from his mouth and you were shocked at how intoxicating it was. How intoxicating he was. You so desperately want to return the favor, and then some.

He has the back of your head grasped in his palm but you resist, trying to get the words out as he all but devours you, groping your tits and reaching a hand behind you to grab your ass in a large, firm hold.

“Can I - mmph, can I.. be greedy… now?” You manage to get out before you reach down to palm his length, to which Sukuna lets out a focused, long breath through his nose. He pulls away from you with a smirk, hips leaning towards your touch.

“Dunno’ if I should - mmh.. let you, hah. I wasn’t tryna’ make you cum yet,” he admits, looking down with a ‘phew’ as you hook your fingers tantalizingly under his waistband, pulling him closer.

“That was you trying to make me not cum?” You ask with a laugh.

“Not yet. Wanted to make you wait for it, but you’re too much of a brat to be patient. You've been one ever since you showed up tonight,” he says and to prove his point further, you grab him by the arms and spin the two of you around, gingerly pushing him against the wall. He makes a face like he’s unimpressed before he reaches to the back of his tank top to pull it over his head. You gawk at his musculature and even more tattoos that are revealed to you as he throws the shirt at your feet.

He reaches down to undo his belt, the loud clang of the metal sending chills down your spine. You look down at the shirt then at him, shooting him a questioning look as he looks like he’s waiting for something.

“For your knees, stupid,” he says and as if on command, you drop to your knees onto his shirt, placing your palms in your lap in anticipation. You subconsciously lick your lips as he unzips his pants ever so slowly.

He stops his movements, grabbing the top of your head to tilt it upwards at him, “If you’re that desperate, you can get it out yourself,” he says with a pat of your head. He leans back onto the wall further, crossing his arms over his cold chest as he waits.

You smooth your hands over the top of his briefs and across his happy trail, dipping your fingers below the waistband before you ask, “How long has it been?”

The question takes him aback as his breath catches in his throat. He tries to still his hips from pushing into your feather-light touch but it’s inescapable. It had been a while for him, too.

“A minute,” is all he offers before you reach up to press a wet kiss to his lower abdomen as you pull his briefs down over his length. You pull for so much longer than you assumed you’d have to; after what seemed like so many inches his cock finally springs free, lazily jerking up as it hits the cool air. If it wasn’t for the heavy mass, his dick would stand at attention in front of you. You grab him in your palm, shocked at the sheer weight present in your hand. His angry tip was beading precum as you slowly worked your hand up and down his shaft, sticking your tongue out below him to catch it before it drips.

He starts to speak before you interrupt him, “I’m gonna’ try to make you not cum, okay?” He peers down hungrily at you, cock twitching at your filthy words. You take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue to gather the bittersweet precum before you start to suck. You feel as if you can only take a few inches of him before he’s already prodding the back of your throat, making you cough around him.

“Don’t wimp out on me now, woman,” he says, grabbing himself at his base with a squeeze, using his thumb to line himself up with your throat perfectly.

“You wanna take my dick then fuckin’ take it,” he adds, grabbing the back of your hair to tilt your head back and your chin up towards him. He hums to you a simple ‘relax’ as he slowly pushes his length further into your throat, stopping when he meets a resistance with a throaty groan that has you whining around him, too. He tried his best to keep quiet, but your watery eyes and furrowed brows looking up at him with his dick shoved down your throat made his resolve disappear.

“Breathe,” he commands as he slips out of your throat, leaving you a coughing, sputtering mess with your lips still pressed against his tip. You follow his lead, taking a deep breath in and out before he pulls your mouth open with a thumb on your chin.

“Deeper this time, yeah?” He asks, quickly shoving his length further than before, nearly balls deep into your throat as your eyes shoot open and you swallow on instinct, earning a breathy ‘fuck’ from the man above you. You breathe out slowly through your nose, focusing your mind on doing anything but gagging. You squeeze his thighs to anchor yourself, pulling back from him almost entirely with a gasp before you force your head down again. You feel your throat start to relax as you continue your slow back and forth motion, trying to take him deeper with every thrust into your mouth. His hips are bucking lazily now as he tries his hardest to be somewhat gentle. As gentle as a man can be with a hand gripping your hair and the other guiding his monstrously large cock into your wet heat.

“Hah, l-look at you. I’ll have that throat trained for me in no time,” he praises, admiring how incredible you look as you throat him, watching how the dim parking lot lighting illuminates you enough for him to see the noticeable bulge in your neck. He can’t help but thrust more powerfully now, seeing as you were already taking his dick with ease after such a short amount of time. You meet his thrusts with your hand wrapping around the remainder of his shaft, stroking what you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

You pull off from him and you swear he pouts, bucking into your continued stroking as you kiss his tip.

“Who says I need my throat trained for you? Who says this will ever happen again?” You ask, curious how he would react.

He laughs, biting his lip to hide the moan that nearly slips.

“Oh, s-so you don’t want me to fuck you?” And he had you there. You start to run your hand furiously over his weeping tip and the sudden increase in sensation has him buckling over, mouth agape as heaving breaths signal how close he is. You’re barely able to suck his tip again before he’s removing your hands, pushing you back to sit on your feet.

“Fuck..y/n, open up,” he says as he strokes his length meticulously, grunts leaving his mouth as his fingers run over the tip repeatedly, “gonna’ paint that - fuck, pretty.. fuckin’ face,” he manages, smiling with an almost pained look as you loll your tongue out obediently. He can’t warn you any further before he’s cumming, white hot liquid pouring into your mouth as you jump in surprise at the sheer volume. With each spurt he’s moaning, strings of profanities leaving his lips as he sees white. You reach your hand up to finish the job, giving him a few final strokes before you suck on his tip a final time, swallowing his gift for you with a smile on your face. You wipe the remainder of your face with your sleeves as you stand to your feet.

“Come here,” he says, drunk on the feeling still as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss.

You pull away, “Now what?”

He chuckles, “hah, we go home,” he says, checking his watch that reads a depressing ‘3:17’, “unless you need my dick that bad.”

While you did actually need his dick that bad, that wasn’t the problem bothering you in the moment.

“Sukuna, I don’t have my keys. Just my phone,” you offer. He reaches down to dust off his shirt before he puts it back on. He motions for you to follow him as he grabs his keys out of his pocket.

“Guess you’re getting what you want after all.”

(pt. 2 in the works)

#jjk smut #fruit punch #fpoc #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #smut #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #Spotify

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penkura · 2 months ago

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Late Night Talks: Zoro

Summary: You and Zoro have a small talk on your back porch while your son sleeps in his crib.

Warning: Just pregnancy mentioned that's all

Note: In the same style as the Law version, we have Zoro this time! :) Just something i thought up and put down as soon as I could, hope you enjoy!

“You don’t have to stay.”

“What, you don’t want me here?”

“That’s not what I said, Zoro.”

The way you roll your eyes while you sit beside him makes Zoro smirk just a bit. He knows what you mean, he’s just teasing you, even as you lay your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand in his. It’s late, he’d been outside enjoying a drink while you tucked your son in for bed, expecting you to join him as soon as you were done.

Well, join him outside anyway. You’re not exactly where you can drink alcohol at the moment, being pregnant and all that. Another surprise that led your crew to Shimotsuki Village for a time, though everyone else seems to be getting antsy to be on the sea again, you’re more comfortable with the idea of staying, just for your children and their safety. Pirate ships and babies don’t normally mix, even if your husband is Zoro and your captain is Luffy.

You’d rather not worry about enemies for a while.

“I know what you meant,” Zoro takes a drink while you hum with a nod, “Did he fall asleep easily?”

“For once, yeah. I think Luffy wore him out with games while we saw Law.”

“Probably,” chuckling a bit with a nod, Zoro glances down to you, before setting his hand on your stomach just in time for a kick, “I still can’t believe it’s a girl…”

You can’t either, the excitement over it was still over your and your crewmates, Nami nearly started bawling, she was so happy when you told everyone. Most comments were that they hope she’ll have your hair, they can’t imagine a little girl with hair as green as Zoro’s, which just pissed him off hearing it. You both just hope she’s born happy and healthy, that’s all that matters. Whatever she may look like isn’t a concern.

You’ll love her no matter what.

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“Zoro—”

“Luffy said I can stay as long as I need, as long as you need, so we can take care of our kids,” finishing off his drink, Zoro puts his arm around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head, “Together, that’s what we said, right? We’ll take care of them together, keep them safe. They’re our kids, it’s our job to protect and raise them.”

“Yeah, together,” you smile a bit, before remembering part of why you’d joined your husband outside in the first place, “Oh, I’ve decided on a name for our little girl.’

“Yeah? Am I gonna like it?”

“I think you’ll love it.”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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ninguitar · 2 months ago

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୨୧　GUESS　˒˒　AU ( PT.2 )

─── ﹙🎱﹚with the label of "casual" put on yours and giselle's relationship, all you could do was continue it, which meant letting your feelings linger, or break it off completely, but fuck, was it difficult with aeri uchinaga being just so, her. INSPIRED BY GUESS BY CHARLI XCX FEAT. BILLIE EILISH.

pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. fluff & a lil angst wc. 1k+ notes. hope this ending was good enough for u guys ♡ part 2 of guess !! (MASTERLIST.)

now playing ⋆ i've seen this movie before by hyejin

AERI, AS MUCH AS SHE DIDN'T WANT TO ADMIT IT, was smitten by you; sure, you were just a hook-up at night, but during the day, you were her best friend—the one person she could depend on. you were the girl who she confided in—the one who knew everything about her, down to the brim.

so why continue a casual relationship with you? giselle didn't know either; it just felt all too perfect, like a dream, being able to find solace within the warmth of you. why ruin something perfect, aeri thought. and in giselle's head, you were the only exception to every single, little thing in her head; she never cared for sappy, sentimentalities, but your existence had completely eroded that. as mere "friends," she'd let you get matching bracelets for the two of you, and she always claimed they were childish and silly. nonetheless, she wore them always.

it was like you guys were attached to the hip surgically.

truthfully, you were everything aeri wanted—the perfect girl. and she almost poured out everything to you—keyword, almost. you may not see it, but each and every "unrequited" confession of giselle's consume her thoughts daily.

and today, the thought of you consumes her mind. it was like a mantra in her head, hearing your name in it over and over again, until aeri could come to terms with herself. against her will, the memory of your guys' argument flashed through her mind. staring at the ceiling, giselle felt tears crack down her cheeks, curling into a fetal position.

fuck was she stupid.

she squeezes her eyes before grabbing her phone, hastily dialing ningning's number. if anybody could give her an honest opinion, it was obviously ning yizhuo. her phone ringing omits through her bedroom, as aeri huffs, rubbing her temples.

"hello?" ningning's voice echoes through giselle's phone, as the japanese girl quickly sits up, leaning against her bed's headboard.

"fuckin' finally, ning. you took like years to pick up," aeri exaggerates, extending her groan.

"be grateful i'm even giving you the time of day. what do you even want anyway?"

"just… issues with a girl—one of my "situation-ships," or whatever. we had some fight about our label, and i think i ended it with her, i don't know, ning. 's just all weird and shit," aeri rants, a sigh drifting from her lips, as she bites the inside of her cheeks.

a giggle escapes ningning's breath, "shit, you want her, don't you? that's like so, unexpected given your history."

as much as giselle didn't want to admit it, she did have a lot of hook-ups that mattered nothing to her, but you were an exception, just like you were to everything else.

"shut up; she's just, well, her," aeri mutters against her phone, pulling her blanket to her chest.

"just talk to her, gi. it's not that hard; just grow some balls," a chuckle escapes ningning's throat, before she continues, "anyway, 'rina says hi."

"are you serious? you're airing this out to jimin too?" giselle huffs, embarrassed, as her cheeks flush.

"winter, too," ningning snorts before hanging up the call, leaving aeri to dwell on the chinese girl's words. maybe ningning was right, and giselle should talk it out, but how would she get you to listen to her?

your eyes open to the faint knocking against the glass doors of your balcony arch. a soft groan lingers in the air, as you get off your bed, your eyebrows furrowing. as you approach the balcony, you reluctantly pull the curtains open.

a soft gasp escapes your breath, "aeri?" you mumble under your breath, as you freeze in your position. it was like, 1 in the morning—what was she doing here, especially after your guys' fight?

"jesus, if you think i'm letting you in—" before you could continue your threat, giselle huffs audibly, despite the glass barrier separating the two of you.

"please?"

and it was like no other plea, especially when aeri uchinaga gently mumbles it, her tone dulcet, making you indulge in your temptations. you slide your glass doors open, inevitably making giselle fall into your arms, her weight resting on yours.

"so, talk," you mutter, your voice dull and monotone.

"i—" aeri begins, her tongue heavy with the weight of the words she's trying to form, "i'm sorry, okay? i just couldn't come to terms with my feelings. i fell in love with you—not from the hook-ups, but from the real you."

"gi—aeri," you correct yourself before continuing, "no- no, no—"

giselle sighs, and it's as if months of pushing and pulling her heartstrings burst all at once, "you're the one i want—not those stupid, snobby one-night-stands i have."

"don't say no just to make me go away; i know you, and you know better. only say no if you don't want me."

you're practically at a lost of words, your mind sent into oblivion, as your hands rest on aeri's chest, keeping distance between the two of you. you're so sure you've already lost your voice, a hollow breath of air lodged in your throat.

instinctively, you press giselle against the rigid glass doors of your balcony, closing the distance between the two of you. your head continues to reel, though this time, it was due to aeri's eager, tentative kisses against your lips.

pulling apart, you mumble, "i'm not settling for a situation-ship, or something casual." your hands rest around aeri's neck, while giselle's arms are snaked around your waist all tuck.

"whatever you want, 'm fine with; i just want you."

her blunt admission sends a chain of shivers through your body, as you nod, "girlfriends, that's all."

"then we're girlfriends," aeri pauses while whispering against your ear, before planting kisses trailing down your jaw. the warmth of your guys' body envelopes you guys, as giselle presses her lips against yours, deepening the kiss. her eyes, baring a glaze of tears, bore into yours with sincerity.

"I JUST WANNA BE YOURS," AERI UCHINAGA SOFTLY HUMS.

i don't wanna say too much

shouldn't have to wait for your love

taglist. ୨ৎ @yoohtonyy @yeetaberry127 @ourlovesarang @multiliker @eunzkkrua

@le3-r1n @imfearlessblog @spidrgamer @r4cjh

#fics 　.#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa giselle #aespa giselle x reader #giselle uchinaga #aeri uchinaga #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader

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scarletttries · 10 months ago

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When The Straw Hats Fall In Love... (One Piece Request)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader

Monkey D. Luffy

- When Monkey falls in love he's not even sure he can put his finger quite on what's happening to him. All he knows is that he likes it. A lot.

- Luffy gets excited when any new pirate joins his crew, his constant ability to see the best in people never ceasing to amaze the rest, but when you first set foot aboard the Merry it's better than he could have ever imagined.

- When you're around he feels a new level of confidence, like he's two steps closer to achieving his dream and everything is working out for him just how it's supposed to be. He wakes up every morning and practically bounces out of bed at the thought of seeing your smile and sharing his thoughts from the night before with you.

- He loves all his friends, but with you he feels a thousand feet tall, stomach bubbling up in excitement, no matter how much he's eaten. He's always bothering Nami at her desk trying to find cute islands to stop off at along the way, just in case that would make you smile and his life would feel complete once again.

- It would be Nami too that first helped Monkey realise just what he's feeling. The first time he skipped a meal to keep you company on your watch she'd realise this is more than just the usual Luffy charms. She'd be surprisingly thoughtful as she sat him down and talked him through what his feelings might mean, and if he thought it was at all possible he might like you more than a friend. What she wasn't expecting was for him to cheer at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of the whole crew as he climbs aboard the table and screams for all to hear 'I'M IN LOVE!"

- Naturally the first thing he has to do is find you. He doesn't worry about if you don't feel the same way, because honestly that wouldn't make this feeling any less sweet, and if someone loved him this way, he'd definitely want to know. You'd be pulled from whatever you were concentrating on with a quick rap of knuckles against the door frame before Luffy charged in anyway, limbs flying everywhere as his feet skid to a halt just in front of you.

"Hey (y/n)! Nami just helped me realise I'm in love with you! Isn't that great?!" It's hard not to be taken aback by this, but with his big smile beaming at you, the young man practically vibrating with excitement at just the presence of his love, your heart quickly follows suit. Before you've even finished telling him that you feel the same his arms around wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into a hug of fierce adoration that he plans to repeat at least 100 times a day.

- Prepare yourself for; Surprise hugs and kisses when you least expect them, Luffy clinging to you every night without fail, afternoons spent on the ship's figurehead while he shouts echoing compliments to the oceans, midnight feasts, island adventures passed hand in hand, being told you are one of his new dreams, and unwavering support and loyalty.

Zoro

- Zoro knows exactly what that uncomfortable aching deep in his chest is, he just wasn't expecting to find it so distracting.

- Your voice calling his name echoes through his mind as he tries to practice his sword training, stirring enough that he finds himself glancing over his shoulder periodically just to ensure you haven't snuck up behind him, probably to check on him in that soft, selfless way you often do.

- Your face is the last thing that flashes before his eyes whenever he's in the throes of a sword fight, an extra consideration in how hard he has to fight to survive, to make sure he always makes it home safe to you. He'll never admit it but after a particularly dangerous day he'll often be found sleeping against the wall beside your cabin door. He finds he can't sleep sometimes unless he knows you're safe, and he'd never be so bold as to invite himself in.

- Your laughter always manages to bring a smile to his face, so much so that he envies Sanji's ability to make witless retorts that always manage to draw that sweet sound out of you. He asks Usopp to teach him a few jokes, but quickly leaves that lesson when he realises all these 'jokes' are just long stories of his so-called bravery.

- Zoro finds when he lays down to sleep, you are all he can dream of. The times you spoke that day, the way you looked as you shared a meal with the others, the efforts you put in to keep the crew safe and well. It floods his chest with warmth as you dance through his thoughts, spurring him to try and find even more excuses to be close to you the following day. To have a few extra moments by your side to help him drift off again.

- Zoro may think he's a stoic man of mystery, but after the first time he falls asleep leaning against your doorframe you start to get an idea of the depth of his feelings. You watch him warm to you and you alone, chasing your company every chance he can take it, and keeping a watchful eye over you whenever the situation turns dangerous. So after one of your more dangerous adventures, you listen out for the tell tale clanging of his swords as he sets up his camp outside your door, and finally you pull it open just a touch, enough for your words to escape without the swordsman having to face you.

"I always feel safer with you near Zoro, but why don't you come in so you can rest a bit more comfortably too?" You listen to the heavy pause your invitation leaves in the air until finally the door pushes slightly more open, and Zoro steps into your cabin, more bashful than you've ever seen him. As you take him gently by the hand and lead him to the untucked edge of your bed, you can feel your own heart swell with anticipation, the threshold of your door crossed and an invisible boundary broken down along with it.

- Prepare yourself for; furtive smiles thrown your way when no-one else is looking, a firm hand on yours whenever you two have to leave the ship, nights passed in peaceful quiet with Zoro's head resting on your lap, Zoro never far away when you're going about your day, grumpy grunts whenever Sanji flirts with you, and quiet confessions of the depths of his love when all is dark and still.

Nami

- Nami is furious. She's spent so much time and work putting up walls and barriers to keep her heart safe. To keep herself undistracted. To make sure she's a lone wolf that can look after number one when she needs to. And you hopped over every wall of her fortress with a simple hello and a trusting smile.

- Nami's the type to be in denial at first. She can't get lost in your beauty if she barely makes eye contact with you. She can't hang on your every word if you two hardly talk. She can't be in love with you if she convinces herself that she can't stand you, and keeps herself busy and out of your way.

- Unfortunately for her, absence only makes the heart grow fonder, and all of her efforts to change her mind only leave her craving your company even more. When she relents and sits next to you for the next cabin meal she feels a surge of guilt at her avoidance when you offer her the widest smile and say you're so happy to see her after she's been so busy. You were worried she wasn't looking after herself so you make sure Sanji gives her the biggest bowl before Luffy can come and claim it. At that point Nami knows there's no use fighting her feelings for the one person she can trust to look after her and her heart, even if she's spent most of her life convincing herself she doesn't need that. Her hand slides slowly across the bench until her little finger brushes against yours, the brief contact enough to light a spark in you both.

"I'll be around a lot more now."

- Prepare yourself for; Late night confessions under the stars, sitting with your legs intertwined as she works on maps, Nami always taking the seat next to yours and giving a death glare if one of the boys gets there first, evenings passed in small town bars learning card games and scooting your seats ever closer to each other, arms wrapping around your waist whenever you're working on something that requires your full attention, and being the safest place for one another in a chaotic pirate life.

Sanji

- Sanji has felt the aching touch of affection before, the ever flirty chef finding himself distracted by the beauty of many passing women, but from the minute he lays eyes on you, he knows he's never felt like this.

- He wants to flirt with you the way he's been practicing for years, but he finds whenever you smile up at him he gets short on breath and can only stare helplessly at you while you fill in the awkward silence. It takes him weeks of desperate longing before he can even hold a conversation with you, the sly smile plastered on his face more sincere than he would ever let on.

- He makes all your favourite foods, as often as he can get away with, putting in extra care and attention to the plate he plans to give to you. Every time you hum happily and praise his work, he feels weightless and euphoric, grateful for the hours spent honing his craft for the opportunity to impress you.

- It becomes a running joke amongst the crew that you're the only person Sanji won't flirt with, the behaviour all the more obvious by how red he turns whenever Zoro points it out to him, taking the chance to do an awful impression of Sanji flirting with you and coming out with lines Sanji views as completely unworthy of your ears. The truth is there's nothing he could say to make you love him with the unwavering depth that he loves you, no words that could capture the sheer wonder of your essence, the light that shines on him with every moment spent in your presence.

- You decide to take mercy on the chef one morning, waking before the rest of the crew and joining Sanji in the kitchen while he prepares to make everyone breakfast. He thinks about making a heartfelt comment about 'to what does he owe the pleasure of your company' or 'how it's unfair to visit him so early as it means his day will have already peaked' but he can't find the combination of words you deserve to hear so instead he just beams and says good morning, eyes devoted following your movements as you settle onto the kitchen counter beside where he's working.

"Sanji, why don't you flirt with me?" The question has hung in the air unspoken a dozen nights before, but today it's fired directly at him, sending his pulse racing as his mouth seems to seal shut of its own accord. He puts down the bowl he was intently stirring and approaches you instead, carefully tiptoeing the so obvious line between you.

"Well when I flirt with everyone else it's just harmless fun. It doesn't mean anything."

"And what would it mean with me?" He should have seen your follow up coming, the knowing look in your eyes spurring him to finally voice the affections that have plagued him for weeks.

"Everything." He watches open mouthed as your fingers run down the length of his tie before capturing the end, pulling him slowly towards your grinning lips and finally letting him find his confidence again.

- Prepare yourself for; breakfast in bed that quickly descends into heated kisses, being lifted onto the kitchen counter so Sanji can periodically stop by to kiss you while he cooks, cakes with soppy sentiment iced on top left outside your door throughout the day, unwavering physical affection regardless of whose around, a litany of sweet nicknames muttering directly into your ear as he nuzzles into your neck, and your lips being the sweetest thing the chef has ever tasted.

Usopp

- Usopp is no stranger to the feelings of love, having already stilled his heart once for a love that couldn't be, he finds himself once again falling head over heels when you enter his life.

- A man of outlandish tales and dramatic exploits, the first hint that you might be someone special to him is the fact that when he's alone with you he only wants to tell the truth. No dramatics, no exageration, when he's with you Usopp just wants to tell you everything that he's ever experienced exactly as it happened. He needs you to know the truth about his life, he needs you to see the real him, he needs you to look at him for exactly who he is, so you can decide if that's an Usopp you can love.

- He often offers to make you a warm tea before bed, when the ship is quiet and he can steal a moment of privacy, so the two of you can stare out the small rounded windows in your cabins and just let your thoughts and feelings spill out like water bubbling too close to the surface. He finds himself enthralled with your reactions to his tales, the kindness you offer him when he speaks of his mother, the genuine praise to even his minor accomplishments, and the shared joy when you two recount you time with Luffy.

- When he ends your talks, when you're both struggling to keep your eyes open and threatening to drift off in each other's arms and he finally gets up the resolve to excuse himself so you can rest, he always ends them by telling you that you're the only person who knows that story. You think he's just making you feel special, that he's known for sharing these glimpses into his past, but the truth is that you ARE special and only you have ever heard this side of Usopp before.

- Usopp speaks so honestly and so freely around you that he finds himself having to hold back describing his feelings for you most nights. He hates that that's the one thing he's yet to be honest about, but he knows that with every passing night, his confession only becomes more inevitable. What he doesn't expect is you leaning across the small bench you two are curled up on and placing a soft kiss on his cheek at the end of one night, and telling him you hope he will always share his stories with you. The beaming smile on his face as he promises he'll keep telling you stories forever, leaning back in for a kiss of his own, reveals as much as his words do.

- Prepare yourself for; Usopp dancing with you at inopportune moments, you being the greatest source of his strength and bravery, hunting through markets for little matching accessories, lying on the beach together whenever an island's weather allows, never keeping any secrets, and the arms of the bravest pirate boyfriend constantly wrapping around your waist.

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