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southernimpala · 3 months ago

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backseat

sam winchester x fem!reader (ft. dean :)

summary ↬ you're in the backseat of the impala 'asleep', but really, you're just eavesdropping on sam & dean

notice ↬ pure fluff (i promise the angst is coming ya'll (and the smut ;)), dean is a shit as always but not really he's actually a good brother in this one, who else wants to fall asleep in the back of the impala like pleeaaaseee, no use of y/n, lowercase intended !

wordcount ↬ 1.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ read part two ↬ frontseat

the rough leather backseat of the impala itches at your legs as they lay curled atop it, your head leaning on the window, foggy and freezing against your cheek as the chilly temperature of north dakota bleeds through. you try to catch up on some much needed shut-eye on the way to the motel.

which, unsurprisingly, is very hard to do when sam and dean winchester are in the front seat, fighting over the stereo.

“if i hear one more led zeppelin song, dean—”

“woah, woah.” you peek your eyes open slightly to see dean’s finger pointed at sam, his face scrunched in a scowl, “there is no room for zep slander in this vehicle, sammy.”

sam laughs sarcastically, shaking his head, his growing, soft wisps swaying in front of the headrest, “fine, then, i suggest you play something produced past 95’.”

dean clicks his tongue in distaste and turns to look past the steering wheel again, “kids don’t know good music.” suddenly, just as you close your eyes, dean calls your name, looking at you through the rearview mirror, “what do you think we should play?”

“silence,” you grumble, trying to shield your vision from the bright street lamps as they flash orange light rhythmically past your closed eyelids.

“alright, ac/dc it is then,” he says, sliding in a new tape—the one you recognize instantly from memory, marked with ‘ac/deanc’ scrawled in messy handwriting on a strip of tape slapped across the front.

as angus young’s guitar starts to echo from the stereo, you slowly melt back into the seat, adjusting until you’ve found a comfortable spot.

you begin to drift off again, fading in and out of consciousness as the tapes change ever so often: metallica, black sabbath, and, when led zeppelin starts to play again, you can just envision sam’s beautiful eyes rolling.

eventually, you rouse awake to the low hum of some billy idol track, the volume way lower now that the car clock signals 3:31am.

you can hear the crinkle of a bag of chips sam is snacking on, dean’s fingers tapping to the beat of the music, and the rumble of baby underneath you.

you’re about to force yourself into more sleep, moving to cover your forearms with your hands to keep them warm, when sam’s soft voice lulls in the silence.

“do you think she’s cold?” he mumbles quietly, and you see, from your low hooded eyes, his head moves just slightly behind the headrest to examine your figure.

he’s right to question it. the temperature is becoming more frigid as the night blooms darker, and you’re sure the goosebumps on your arms are visible if he looks hard enough.

“it’s warm in the car,” dean responds, turning onto a backroad. the car is swallowed in darkness as the streetlamps fade into haunting trees stretching into miles of forest surrounding you.

sam’s tongue pokes his cheek in thought, and without prompt, he’s shrugging the brown carhartt off his body, turning in his seat—you’ve told him to start wearing a seatbelt—and delicately draping the warm material across your shivering shoulders.

a blanket of musk, campfire smoke, and something only described as sam winchester envelops you.

you shut your eyes quickly so he won't suspect you’re awake, but that means trying your damnedest to bite back the smile fighting its way onto your lips at the gesture. you snuggle deeper into the jacket to hide the bottom of your face while pretending to be asleep.

peeking through your eyelashes, you see sam not bothering to hide his own smile at the sight of you nestled under his jacket. your heart picks up.

he re-rights himself in his seat, clearing his throat as he focuses on the road ahead again.

“real smooth, there, romeo.” dean smirks, giving him a knowing nod.

“shut up,” sam shakes his head, picking nervously at a loose thread in his jeans, “she looked cold.”

“oh, did she tell you that, huh?” dean teases again, shoving his shoulder playfully.

sam moves away from his brother’s provoking hand, “eyes on the road, jerk.”

“bitch,” dean scoffs, but you know the grin is there: real and genuine, “just tell her you love her so i can stop watching these mixed signals.”

your stomach twists.

“dean, i don’t—” sam trips over his words, bringing a hand down his blushing face, “i just gave her a jacket in under 30-degree weather—”

“—and patched her up for over an hour after that werewolf got its claws in her, and walked her back to the room when she drank too much, and freaked out when that guy tried picking her up at that bar in minna—”

“that’s called being a gentleman,” sam narrows his eyes, growing more defensive, “and we both freaked out, so don’t try to—”

“i freaked out because the guy looked like a creep, you freaked out because somebody—anybody’s—hands were on her,” dean moves to take a sip of his melted slurpee from dinner, “there’s a difference, sammy.”

the things dean mentions start flooding back into your memory, the gestures at the time seeming so innocent, no possible way for there to be any underlying connotation if you hadn’t thought about it hard enough.

until now, when you’re thinking about it hard enough.

the way sam’s hands shook just slightly as they expertly stitched the gash on your leg, and how his eyes held something else under the concentrated look; a glimmer of worry, fear, even, at the idea that you were hurt.

then, how those hands, no longer shaky, gripped your waist tight to keep you on your feet as you stumbled back to the motel room from the bar one night. you were trashed, the hunt a particularly hard one, yet, he didn’t let you fall. tucked you in and everything.

you had no idea about the last one, of the gross drifter trying to get lucky with you. no clue that it’d bothered him—both of them—but, especially sam in that way. not until now.

and suddenly, they all make sense.

“whatever, dean,” sam says, his words lower than a whisper, like a child who's just been scolded, “it’s never been that way with us.”

“it can be,” dean argues, “‘think i don’t notice the way she acts toward you, too?”

sam laughs mirthlessly, like a light breath escaping past his lips, “drop it, already.”

“i’m being serious!” dean’s voice picks up just slightly, eliciting a “shhh!” from sam as he nods his head toward your ‘sleeping’ figure.

he quiets, “i’m being serious, you’re both idiots.”

well, he isn’t wrong about that.

maybe you had been looking at sam a certain way. with a twinkle in your eye you can’t control. a giddiness you only show when he’s around. the laugh that bursts through your chest at his jokes.

the gentle hand you placed on his, shaky and tactful, as it took care of you that night.

and the expression that met yours when you did so.

you see it flash the back of your eyelids as they flutter against the moon’s glow through the window. you melt further into the smell of him at the memory, wishing it was his arms around you instead. that he wasn’t so far away in the front seat.

“she’s good for you,” dean adds in the moment of silence, “and damn, is she beautiful.”

sam lets the corner of his lips curl into a gentle smile, the thought of you filling his head, of every moment where maybe he didn’t think hard enough either, “yeah,” he whispers softly, “yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

he looks back to you, lets himself take in the image of you underneath something of his keeping you warm, safe.

something in him bursts.

fuck, he loves you.

and, you think you love him, too.

dean’s music fades as you nod off for the last time till you make it to the motel. the impala shifts into park, and the engine growl is sharply cut. you groan as you’re awoken, stretching out your limbs as you yawn loudly.

sam opens the door on your side, peeking his head under the hood, “good morning, sleepyhead.”

you yawn a response, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. instantly, once your vision un-blurs, your chest clenches at the conversation overheard a mere few hours before. you can’t help the deer in headlights stare as you look up at sam’s gentle features, smiling softly at you.

and he has no idea what you heard.

he sticks his large hand out for you to take as you step out on wobbly legs. you refuse to let go of his jacket as it stays hanging on your shoulders.

yeah, you think, i love him.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ sam winchester masterlist !

#supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester one shot #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam x reader #fluff #works

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sirfrogsworth · 1 month ago

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In this scene, they are in the middle of the woods under a canopy of trees. They show the sky and there is no moon.

The light has absolutely no motivation.

Motivated lighting is a philosophy where all of the light sources on screen have a logical source. The light from a smartphone on someone's face. A lamp next to the couch. Sterile overhead office lights.

Often filmmakers will still use their own custom light sources, but they will simulate these things to give the impression the light has motivation.

Compare this to when all they really had were bright spotlights and insensitive film. An indoor scene just couldn't have this warm and cozy feel. And the light was just blasted in from everywhere.

Black and white helped a lot. You could still get dramatic effect despite things needing to be overlit. Or you could play with contrast ratios and shadow.

All the stuff you need to see was very bright and exposed well onto film and all the stuff you didn't was very dark.

But there was no graduation in between. It was hard to be subtle.

And when television and movies went color, this black and white contrast advantage was lost.

You can see EVERYTHING. And look at those sharp shadows. Everyone is just being blasted in the face with lights.

This sitcom lighting persisted long past when it was necessary. It became part of the sitcom language.

I think M*A*S*H was one of the first shows to subvert the overlit sitcom aesthetic. They began to play with lighting that had more motivation.

But aesthetic standards are hard to kill. And despite the heavy influence of M*A*S*H, sitcoms persisted all the way into the Friends era.

Her lamp isn't even on. Everything is just lit by God.

I don't think you will see a living room or kitchen scene lit like this very much from here on out.

People are getting used to lighting making more logical sense.

With the advent of LED lighting that can be any size, shape, and brightness, as well as cameras that can interpret very dark images, modern shows can now use bright and dark as narrative tools.

I think Severance does this well, and still keeps everything properly motivated.

But this newfound flexibility has created new problems. If you can film dark things, how dark is too dark? And how do you make sure the audience can see all of the important visual information?

The two worst examples of unmotivated lighting are always space helmets and cars.

It's a conceit. You gotta see the faces so these things are usually forgiven.

But the biggest debate in the realm of unmotivated lighting is night scenes. People have lots of opinions on how best to use light in the dark.

This is because following a motivated lighting philosophy can be especially tricky. Particularly if your setting is a secluded area without any artificial light sources.

Many cinematographers will try to give some sense of moonlight. But moonlight is very hard to replicate, so the effect usually ends up looking pretty fake.

This scene during a blackout in Die Hard 4 looks like they took the brightest light they had, mounted it as high as possible and said, "Fuck it, that's moon-ish."

If the DP is hardcore into motivated lighting, they just make the screen really really dark, like the Long Night battle in Game of Thrones.

The really really dark option bugs a lot of people.

Froggie Tangent about Dark Scenes:

I originally thought people needed to adjust their display settings. But then I realized not everyone watches content in a darkened room like a vampire. But if you find a show or movie is too dark, turning off any room lights will help a lot. Watching it in HDR will also help. And watching it on an OLED will help even more.

Scenes this dark are mostly a fad. DPs are experimenting with the possibilities of new technology. But sometimes they forget not everyone has that technology yet. And they forget some people watch stuff on their phones in a room full of sunlight.

Eventually the fad will fade, we will all adopt better screens, and the darkness will land somehwere between "I can't see shit" and "it would never be that bright in real life."

[End of tangent]

In the olden days, since film wasn't sensitive enough to do scenes in the dark, almost everything needed to have unmotivated lighting just to make sure their film wasn't a grainy mess. And as a culture, we sort of got used to that style. They'd mess with the contrast ratios to give the feeling of night, but if you think about where the light is coming from too hard, it won't make any sense. They took a Broadway theater approach to lighting and so a lot of movies felt like they were on a soundstage.

The 1961 West Side Story is a good example.

They've got a spot light hitting them, but not the building behind them. I guess that could be an overhead street light. But street lights are meant to flood the area like an ever expanding donut of light. A spotlight is like a directly projected cone of light. It is perfectly pointed at the side of their face and not coming from above.

She has some magical purple light coming from... somewhere.

And then they are in an area under a bridge, far away from any lights, but they've got soft fill light with a bright rim coming from the right.

Speilberg's version has much more motivated light.

This one is a bit of a cheat, some very bright source off in the distance. But it feels more plausible to the brain and gives a better sense of darkness. It feels like some kind of industrial lighting. Or a security light at a junkyard.

Here he straight up shows you where the light is coming from. And his preference for anamorphic lenses.

And here he uses bright train lights to create silhouettes. This is clever because it allows everything to be very dark but everyone is still legible in the scene.

I'm torn. Because I study light. And so I am very aware of how shows and movies are lighting things. And unmotivated lighting sticks out in my brain. Like when I watch someone miming playing the guitar. Or using a camera improperly. When you know too much about something, inaccurate onscreen depictions just drive you nuts.

There are some techniques being experimented with to make night scenes more legible while maintaining lighting realism. I think the most promising is the infrared day-for-night process used in Nope.

But maybe it doesn't need to be solved. Maybe DPs should just light the night even if it doesn't always make sense. Maybe general audiences just do not care and I am a big nerd who should be ignored.

#long post #lighting

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julymusings · 8 months ago

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will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?

i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over

or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]

jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda

You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.

You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.

“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.

“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.

You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.

“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.

“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.

He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight, you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.

“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.

“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.

You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”

But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.

He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?

You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—”

He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”

You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear what you're not saying. You need him to hear you.

“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.

“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.

You start with his shoulder, which is decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but rather several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise which covers his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth.

His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him?

You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.

“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.

“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”

You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”

“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”

You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.

“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.

There’s a pause. Then:

“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.

You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.

You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.

His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”

“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.

“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”

He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.

After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.

You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.

“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.

“But if I’d just—”

“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”

“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.

“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”

He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.

“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.

He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.

The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”

He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”

Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.

“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”

He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.

It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.

And you know he can hear you.

love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3

divider is from here

#experienced immense grief while writing this #nightwing #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #damian wayne #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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calypsocolada · 11 days ago

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how they react to someone else hitting on you...ft. giyu, obanai, mitsuri, tengen, rengoku, sanemi & hotaru

authors note: this was requested by and dedicated to @callmenobodyyxx & @itscheshirecay. hope you guys enjoy!

cw: slightly suggestive, fem reader, not proofread, jealousy, hotaru being scary, use of y/n

wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

It takes a lot for Giyu Tomioka to get angry. It takes even more so to make him do something about it. Giyu internalizes a lot of things. Mainly his feelings for you. Those are shoved deep within the parts of him that can never bubble up onto the surface. And it’s damn frustrating. It’s even more frustrating that you're the complete opposite to him. Where he’s quiet and reserved, you are jubilant and attentive. You love to talk to people, to get to know someone and listen to their story. You like making friends and forming connections. You like being a hashira and having dinner with the rest of the hashira’s. You like being in the light. Giyu likes being in the dark. So why the hell do you affect him so damn much. Why the hell can’t he stop thinking about you. Why the hell does he crave that attentiveness and feel the twistedness of jealousy every time you smile that bright smile of yours at someone that isn’t him. It was quite simple. Something Giyu didn’t want to admit until it was forced to light. Because you kept handing out your time and smiles and conversation to people unworthy of it.

So as Giyu sat at his booth in the corner, listening to you charm the entire restaurant he was almost content with letting those feelings stay dormant. He felt like telling you these feelings would drag you out of the light into the depths with him. Who would want someone so gloomy dragging you down? He reached for his drink. These feelings, like nettles in his chest.

“Then what did you do?” An interested voice asked, leaning close to you. Giyu watched you smirk, you loved a story.

“The demon was crying out for its mother by the time I was through with it.” You sibilated and the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers. The interested voice leaned in and Giyu finally saw the face. It was a man, eyes lustful and moony. Giyu had seen you deal with quite a few people. Angry and sad and happy and interested. But never interested in the way this man was interested. The man’s hand slid along the back of your chair as his front barely pressed against you.

“Another round for the beautiful hashira.” The man beamed. Giyu stared for a moment, his heart bursting like pricks from a thorn bush. You happily accepted the drink and even turned towards the man, offering up to cheers with him. The man clinked his glass against yours and Giyu watched you both take drinks, eyes linked with one another's. The man placed his drink on the bar and leaned towards you, lips mere inches from your ear as he whispered something. You laughed and pulled back. Giyu couldn’t hear what you said but then you stood from your seat and followed the man out of the bar. Giyu felt his whole body tense when the door felt closed and that calming and bright presence you usually brought to every place ceased to exist. He should stay seated. He was wanting his feelings to die off and if he followed you right now he’d only make things worse for himself. He wanted you to be happy. You needed someone that could match your light. But was that some slimy guy from some seedy bar? Giyu was out the door in seconds, the cold air stinging his cheeks as the door slammed behind him.

“Mmm… right there.” He heard your voice off to the right and turned sharply towards it. “A bit higher.” Giyu rushed towards the side of the bar and rounded the corner. “Hold tight.”

“Y/n!” He called out and stopped dead in his tracks when he finally found you. You turned, the dim light of the lamp post illuminating the scene. The man was holding your sword, you were just behind him, adjusting his position.

“Tomioka? Everything alright?” You asked innocently. Giyu scowled as the man straightened, a smirk on his face. Giyu barely nodded his head. “You sure?”

“Head back inside.” Giyu’s eyes locked on the man, his voice even and eyes sharp. The man swallowed, handing back your sword.

“It’s fine. He was just curious about sword technique.”

“I’m sure he was.” Giyu didn’t take his eyes off the man until he was scurrying out of his eyeline. You slide your sword back into the hilt and step closer to Giyu.

“Did we get a mission?” You asked, eyes searching his face. His eyes met yours.

“Did something happen? Between you two?”

“Between who?” You asked, obviously not understanding his meaning. Giyu stepped closer.

“You and that man.”

“Hm? No.” You shook your head, smiling amused. “Are you sure everythings alright?”

“No. Nothings alright. Do you know how dangerous it is to leave with some stranger in the middle of the night?” Giyu asked, taking another step closer. You didn’t shy away because arguing with Giyu was something you enjoyed because you knew the moment you finally pushed him over the edge he might just reveal what was deep within. Something you were craving just as much as him.

“I was just having a bit of fun. No harm done.” You baited and smirked. Giyu’s eyes sharpened.

“He could’ve tried something with you.”

“No harm in trying.” You shrugged and walked [ast him. Giyu’s hand shot out.

“Are you… trying to make me mad?” He asked, eyes locked on yours. Yes. Yes you were.

“Like I said. No harm in trying.” You gave him a smile. Come on, Giyu… His fingers tightened around your wrist for a couple seconds before he loosened enough for your arm to fall out of his grip. You knew what he’d say next. That he was heading in for the night. You had told yourself before tonight that this was the last night you’d try for his affections. There’s only so much you could do. It’s not something you could force. It was quiet. You cleared your throat. “Goodnight then, Giyu.” More like goodbye. You brushed past him, a step away from the corner when his cold hand grabbed you again. Hope sparked in your chest.

“Don’t go back.”

“Where do you want me then?” You asked and that hope tightened in your chest.

“Nowhere near that idiot.” He said and you wondered if that’s all he’d do. Just hold your wrist and hope you'll get it. You got it just fine, you just wanted him to show some initiative.

“He seemed fine enough.” You said and Giyu shook his head quite resolutely. “He was interested in me, in learning how to hold a sword, he was-“ Giyu pulled your wrist and you along with it, his free hand sliding against your face, silencing your words by pressing his lips to yours.

“Enough.” He mumbled against your lips. “I get it.”

“You want some?” You offered, you were covered in baking powder, a bit on your nose and cheeks and all over the front of your smock. Obanai sat across the kitchen near the window, pouting as he usually did. You were cooking for the trainees on this rainy day and one particular trainee had followed you into the kitchen under the guise of learning how to cook a scone. On days where you spent most of your time baking Obanai would sit at the table just to be close to you but not up in your space. This trainee was up in your space.

“Yeah!” He answered as you spooned some of the filling off the plate and held out the spoon. Obanai had been watching pretty closely this entire time. Those sharp snake eyes making sure no funny business would happen. And that’s when it happened. Instead of taking the spoon and feeding himself, the trainee leaned towards you and let you feed him.

Obanai slammed his book shut. You didn’t jump but the trainee did. He jumped so far back his back slammed into the kitchen island.

“You want some too?” You asked innocently towards your fuming partner. Obanai pushed off the table and nodded his head as he forced his way past the trainee, holding back the temptation of choking him out. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, it was clear you didn’t expect him to take you up on it because time and time again he’d just sit across the room from you and not say much of anything. He paused just before getting to you and turned back to glare at the trainee.

“Make yourself sparse.” He demanded with a calm fury. The trainee tripped over himself to get out of the kitchen. You laughed slightly, watching him go.

“He’s a nice kid, Iguro.”

“He’s not a kid.” Obanai rebounded as he watched you grab a different spoon and scoop some filling out for him to try. You give him the option of taking the spoon but he reaches up, gently pulling off the wrapping around his mouth. Your breath hitches as his eyes never leave yours. You're sure he’s looking for some kind of disgust, some kind of uncomfortableness but you show none of it as you guide the spoon to his mouth. The kitchen grows three sizes smaller as his hand reaches up and grasps your wrist, spoon a few inches from his mouth. You swallow as he steps into your space. “I'll have some later.” He says and leans to press a kiss to your lips. You're just about too stunned to do anything when he pulls away, guides your hand back towards his mouth and tastes the filling on the spoon. “Good. Sweet.” He notes and you stare unblinking, lips parted as he fastens his mouth coverings back on. “Next time no trainees in the kitchen with you.” He says and meets your eyes. You blink finally, clearing your throat.

“Uh huh, sure thing.”

“You need help with that?” A trainee asked to your right, you turned and smiled, nodding your head as you handed off some of the practice swords. He fell in step with you as you waved down Mitsuri who had been finishing up her last session for the night. She waved back, eyes darting to the man beside you before an unsure smile fit to her lips. “Miss?” The trainee asked as you turned back towards him.

“Yes?” You asked.

“You’re a hard worker.” He smiles and you purse your lips, smiling gratefully.

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“A lot of the other Hashira are scary but not you. You have really given me hope to keep going.” He says and the smile on your lips gets bigger.

“So you’re feeling better about the training?” You ask as the training behind you two ends, the trainees all walking out of Mitsuri’s lesson groaning from exertion.

“A lot better.” He affirms and you reach out, gently squeezing his arm.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“Miss… I have to ask…”

“What’re you happy to hear?” Mitsuri chirps from a few steps behind. You turn, half smiling at her.

“Kanroji, I was just talking with,” You turn but the place where the trainee was just standing was completely vacant. You blinked a few times, looking all around the training yard until you spotted him running full force away. “Hmm. He’s actually gotten faster.” You laugh, turning back to Mitsuri. She gives you an almost tense smile.

“Can I carry those for you?” She asks and before you can answer she’s gently grabbing the few practice swords out of your hands.

“Oh… thanks.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” She smiles brightly, heading towards the field.

“Kanroji, aren’t you tired? I don’t wanna trouble you-”

“It’s no trouble.” She calls over her shoulder as you jog to catch up with her.

“You sure?” You ask as you fall instep with her. She nods her head resolutely. There wasn’t much to clean up, just a few broken practice swords.

“Hungry?” Mitsuri asks as the sun sets in the distance. You straighten up, stretching a bit.

“Starving. But I’m cooking this time.” You say as Mitsuri shakes her head slightly.

“I like cooking for you.”

“I’m sure you do. But I’ve had an easy day and you haven’t.” You say, taking off and jogging towards the main house. Mitsuri calls after you, laughing as you beat her inside. She follows you into the kitchen. “Miss Kanroji, take a seat already.” You laugh over your shoulder as Mitsuri scoffs.

“Let’s cook together.”

“You’re relentless.” You laugh as Mitsuri just gives you a smile. You work together on dinner for a bit, you chop up vegetables and Mitsuri frying them up. You set up the table as Mitsuri prepares the tea.

“No sake?”

“I have an early morning. Would you like some?”

“Mhm.” You shake your head, you weren’t going to drink alone. Mitsuri sat beside you at the table as you two tore into your food. One thing you had in common was your appetites.

“Y/n?” Mitsuri asked in between bites.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip of your tea.

“That trainee you were talking to… Is he always quite friendly?” Mitsuri asks. You hike up a brow and meet her eyes. You thought about it for a moment.

“He… I guess so?” You say, unsure of what she meant.

“He helps you clean up a lot?”

“Yes… yeah he sticks around after training.” You answer nonchalantly, grabbing at your chopsticks. “I’m quite proud of him. He’s come a long way.” You say, smiling a bit. When Mitsuri doesn’t say anything you look over at her. With her chopsticks she’s poking around at her food. You immediately know something is wrong. “What is it? Did I use too much seasoning?” You ask as she immediately perks up just to shake her head.

“No no… darling it’s perfect.” She answers and you both have your own similar reactions to the nickname. Furious blushes. Mitsuri clears her throat. “I meant…” She staggers off, not finding the right words. You decide to show her some mercy.

“What is it then? You don’t play around with food. Is that trainee bugging you?”

“Bugging me?” She echoes, shaking her head but something was bugging her. You set down your own chopsticks and turn fully towards her.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You. You mostly.” She relents. You suck in a breath.

“Me?”

“Yes you!” She affirms, blushing red like a sunburn.

“In what way..?” You ask and Mitsuri pouts.

“In a lot of ways!” She blushes even more, covering her face with her hands. You find yourself blushing too, noticing now that your knees were barely touching under the table. You blushed again at that too. Mitsuri huffed into her hands. “I don’t like being… I don’t like that he…” She can’t seem to finish her thoughts, her voice muffled into her hands. You reach over, pulling her hands away from her face. You were going to say something but the moment your eyes met your mind went blank for a second. “I… I’m jealous.” She admits. You exhaled a breath held in your chest.

“That… that’s okay.” You say, swallowing, you were still holding her by her wrists. “But… you have nothing to… to be jealous about.” You say.

“I don’t?” She asks and you shake your head, letting her go. Because did you eat dinner with that trainee every night? No. Did you look forward to talking and laughing and spending time with that trainee? No. This was all something reserved for Mitsuri. And friendship didn’t even come close to covering what was brewing between you and the love hashira.

“Absolutely not.” You affirmed and hand sliding just under her jaw. Her eyes got wide a bit and for a second you have this crippling fear that you misread the moment but then her face lights up and her lips curl into a soft smile. She doesn’t wait for you to make the first move, she makes it herself. She reaches across the table and tugs you to her lips. Warm and waiting.

“Here you are, Miss.” the bartender greets, placing your drink in front of you. You give him a tired smile and take it. “It’s on us.”

“I have money.” You say and the man shakes his head.

“No good here. You and that man saved our town. We’re grateful.” The man smiles as you give a half hearted smile. You were exhausted, you and Tengen had just fought a couple tough demons and you were surprised you could even sit up in this chair right now. Tengen was outside, basking in the glory of the townspeople fawning over him but you weren’t one for the spotlight so you slinked into the closest bar and hid out the best you could. The bartender stayed close, cleaning off the bar and shooting looks at you. “Did you… have you worked as a slayer for long?” He asked nervously. You took a long sip and smiled.

“I’m a Hashira, which means I’m more important and always exhausted.”

“A Hashira, huh?” The man curiously asks. You nod your head. “That must mean you’re mighty strong?” You can hear the smirk in the man’s voice, you look up, expecting mockery but he doesn’t look amused, he looks impressed.

“I’m strong enough.” You answer wearily and he smiles, eyes trailing across your body before nodding his head, as if to affirm to himself you looked strong. You blow out a laugh and take another drink.

“I own this bar, and the restaurant across the street.”

“Ah?”

“Can I treat you to dinner?” The man asks, you meet his eyes and there’s no doubt in your mind he’s flirting. You wonder how long it’ll last before…

“Can you treat us both! I’m starving.” Tengen slides into the seat next to you, the smile in his face practically glowing from the crowd of praise he’d been receiving outside. The bartender seizes up a bit and clears his throat.

“O-of course, sir. Anything for the saviors of our town.” He says quickly and Tengen’s smile grows. He gently nudges your arm.

“How hospitable.” You ignore him.

“Can I have another?” You ask, pulling out some money but the bartender shakes his head and pours you another without taking your money. He also pours one for Tengen.

“Get to know my partner any better?” Tengen asks the bartender who blushes instantly.

“Uh— we were just—.”

“She’s a locked door this one.” Tengen smirks, looking over at you. You look at your drink. “I don’t fault you for trying.”

“Trying?” The bartender echoes.

“To ask her out. She’s something, I get it.” Tengen says unabashedly. You huff, glaring over at him as the bartender fumbles over his words.

“Leave him be.” You say and Tengen relishes in your attention.

“You like him?” He asks with a smirk. You down the rest of your drink, tossing money on the bar before hopping out of your seat and heading towards the exit. You shoulder out of the door as the cold hits your cheeks. You walk in the direction of the inn you and Tengen were staying at for the night knowing you had about five seconds alone before he was at your side again. “He’s not your type is he?” He asks and you’re so used to him popping up beside you that it doesn’t even faze you much anymore.

“None of your business.”

“He can’t be.” Tengen says to himself, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. You don’t fight it, just pull it close. “I think you like someone taller than that.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this.” You say but he’s not listening.

“Or does height not bother you? You don’t seem very picky.” He looks down at you, smirks when he sees he’s gotten under your skin. So you decide if he’s going to pester you you could dish it right back.

“I don’t care about height.” You say as he towers over you. “He did have nice eyes.” You say and watch in real time Tengen’s face drops. He was wanting to annoy you but you had turned it around on him and he wasn’t expecting that. “And good hair. And a hard worker.”

“He seemed meek.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrug. “I’m not the talkative kind myself.”

“You need someone that challenges you. Ever heard of opposites attract?”

“Hmm.” You hum and shrug your shoulders. “He gave me free drinks. And offered dinner.”

“I offer you dinner all the time.” Tengen argues and you have to hold back the laugh as you stop walking.

“I should go take him up on his offer.” You turn back towards the bar when suddenly Tengen catches your arm. You pause, looking back at him.

“You’re joking.”

“I could settle down here. It’s quiet and-“ Tengen pushes you back against the concrete wall, hand behind your head so you don’t bump it. “I’m joking, Ten-“ he smashes his lips against yours, your eyes widened in disbelief. But the kiss is warm and consuming and all jokes and frustrations were forgotten.

“Done joking?” He asked against your mouth. You cleared your throat, cheeks red.

“Uh huh.”

You sat back in your train seat, arms crossed. Rengoku sat across from you, tearing through his second bento box. You watched him, took a sip of your drink, then sat back again. He didn’t look up for quite a bit.

“Do you want some?” He asked and you just shook your head. You had absolutely no appetite after your disastrous first mission with this eccentric Hashira. Your arm was in a cast, bandages on your cheek and stomach from being tossed about by a demon. You were almost food to be digested if Rengoku hadn’t swooped in to save you. “You should eat.” He pushed a box across the train table. You stared at it for a long moment so he reached over and opened it for you. Your stomach turned and you made a face.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sure you are. You worked hard today.” He says and you look up at him, he’s all but beaming at you. You pout slightly.

“I almost died… like ten times.”

“But you didn’t.” He counters, smiling. You furrow your brows as he motions to your food. “You’ll feel better.” Reluctantly you reach out and pick at your food, eating just a bit to appease him. But once you started to get a bit more in your stomach you did feel better and you ended up eating the whole box. He slides another across the table and you don’t fight him on it this time. He watches you eat with a curious expression on his face. You look up at him.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” He says, a fondness in his eyes as you shrug and continue eating.

“I guess I should thank you.” You say.

“I’ll share my food with you anytime.”

“I meant saving me from the demon. I was useless out there.”

“You most certainly were not.” He says matter of factly and waits until you're looking at him to continue. “Most slayers don’t make it past their first missions. Not to mention you held it off successfully until back up arrived.”

“But I had to be saved.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” He admonished you and you feel slightly embarrassed. You look down at your food. He was right. It was your very first mission and you were alive, eating food on the train back to the butterfly mansion. You were alive. That’s what mattered. When the train docked you and Rengoku stood as a man bumped into you. Rengoku’s hand slid around your back as you stumbled back into his arms. He steadied you.

“Oh… I’m very sorry Miss.” The man who bumped into you apologized, he’d lost his briefcase to the ground and had bent to retrieve it. When he stood back up his eyes met yours.

“It’s alright.” You gave a polite smile as patrons walked around you towards the exit.

“Oh… my you-- your that pretty slayer from the town over right?” He asked as you blushed deeply. You blinked, motioning to yourself.

“Me?” You asked as the man smiled brightly.

“It is you. I wouldn’t forget a face like that.” He smirks as you bite your lip to keep from smiling in embarrassment. “Can I help you with your bags?” He asks, you part your lips to answer but Rengoku beats you to the punch.

“She’s alright, I’ve got them for her, young man.” Rengoku says, stepping between you and the man, yours and his bags in one hand, his other hand gently guiding you towards the exit, hand softly on the small of your back. Once on the train platform the man clears his throat.

“Can I buy you dinner, Miss? As a thanks?”

“I just ate.” You answer and notice Rengoku’s hand still around you. You blush even deeper.

“Breakfast?” The man tries.

“I appreciate the offer but we’re catching the next train.” You say. The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dance along your body and you consciously step closer to Rengoku.

“Well… how about a tour of town?”

“How about you get going?” Rengoku answers for you, his face still cordial, though the tone of his voice was definitely stern, something you hadn’t seen unless he was fighting demons. The man looks Rengoku over and you wonder for a moment if he’ll try something, it was almost laughable. But he relents, giving a halfhearted wave before disappearing into the crowd.

“He was persistent.” You huff as Rengoku looks you over.

“You alright?” He asks as you nod your head, giving him a soft smile.

“Thanks for the save… again.” You blush and he reaches for you, ruffling your hair a bit. “I can carry at least one back, Rengoku.” Rengoku simply shakes his head as he leads you towards the next train.

Sanemi had been seething the moment you smiled. He leaned against the wooden fence, watching over your training session as you helped teach some of the newer slayers. When it comes to flirting and attraction most of it goes straight over your head. It was like your mind only had so much room and most of it was demon knowledge and the occasional sweet. Alot of slayers liked your training sessions and Sanemi was noticing more guys than girls. He noticed they were staying longer after the sessions and he definitely noticed the flirting. But you sure as hell didn’t. Nor did you care as you beat each of them with ease with your wooden practice swords.

“Are you guys retaining anything?” You call out, taking one of the guys to the ground, pressing the dull end of the blade to his throat. He smiled up at you, almost lovingly and Sanemi almost vaulted over the fence and killed him himself. You helped the boy up and sent him back with the others as you had the next one step up. Slayer after slayer was easily dispersed by you. That was the small retribution Sanemi felt, seeing you dish out punishment. You dismissed them a while later and started cleaning up. Sanemi waited for you near the gate and listened as the group of boys walked by.

“I think tomorrow I’ll ask, you think she’ll say yes?” One boy asked as the others gasped and laughed.

“Absolutely not! Miss Y/N is way out of your league!”

“I could make her happy!”

“Could not!” The boy laughed as Sanemi felt his blood cool.

“You’d have a better chance with a demon.”

“I’m gonna ask her to dinner tomorrow.”

“You wanna keep your neck intact, I'd keep your questions to yourself.” Sanemi growled. The group of boys hadn’t noticed him and when they did they all went paper white.

“Oh-- w- we were just messing around, Mr. Shinazugawa.”

“Just like you’ve been wasting her time during training sessions?” Sanemi asks and the fear on the boy's face was sweet justice. But Sanemi wasn’t done. “She’s busted her ass trying to keep you all from being eaten by demons but you're talking about pathetic crushes?”

“We-- we’re sorry sir.”

“Not good enough.” Sanemi crosses his arms. “I’ll be watching tomorrow and If I don’t see visible proof that you all are taking it seriously you’ll be going against me. And I won’t use some pathetic practice sword.” The boys run off to train as you jog over.

“Everything okay?” You ask as Sanemi turns, nodding his head.

“You're too easy on them.” He says as you give him a soft glare.

“You’re too hard on them.” You say and Sanemi reaches for your hand, tugging you towards the main house.

“You should hear the things they say about you.”

“What do they say?” You ask as Sanemi shakes his head.

“Let’s just say it’s a test of patience for me.” He says as you laugh slightly.

“You’re just easily jealous.”

“Yeah. And?” Sanemi asks as he ushers you inside, something he’d been wanting to do all day. Inside, with no one around, no peering eyes, just him and you.

“They’re good boys.” You say as he makes a face at you before pulling you against him.

“They're not.” He argues, hand on your cheek as he kisses you, pressing you into the wall. “Stop being so nice.”

“I’m-- not.” You argue back against his lips.

“Are to.”

“Quit arguing with me while kissing.” You groan and he deepens the kiss, hands possessive.

Relaxing after a mission was something very sacred to you. In fact it might have been the sole reason that got you through each mission. Halfway through slicing a demon's head off you were already thinking about hot springs and all you could eat and warm blankets. This time was going to be even better because your sword, which you had broken on multiple occasions, was completely intact, which meant you didn’t have to visit your terrifying swordsmith, Haganezuka, at the beginning of your rest and relaxation trip. The few times you visited him you felt more likely you’d die by his hands than a damn demon. So this time as you were escorted to the village you were on cloud nine. You lounged in the hot spring, breathing in the night. You ate your fill at the village diner and drank yourself drunk at the tavern. One of the swordsmiths walked you back to the inn and offered to meet you for breakfast which you heartily accepted. The next morning you were ready to do it all over again as you headed to the diner.

“Y/n?” A voice asked as you walked down the stony path. You turned, smiling.

“Good morning, Kanamori!” You greeted cheerfully as Kanamori cleared his throat.

“Morning…Did… Did you just get here?”

“I got here yesterday morning.” You said as the man fell in step with you.

“And… you visited Mr. Haganezuka?” He asked as you smiled brightly.

“Nope! No need. My sword is great. I’m actually on my way to have breakfast with one of the villagers, can’t recall his name but he had a sort of spooky looking mask.” You explained as Kanamori stopped walking. You stopped a second later and glanced back at him. “Everything alright?”

“That’s Mr. Haganezuka’s competition.” Kanamori explained as you nodded slowly.

“Ah, really? Some drama there?”

“You could say.” Kanamori says as you smile slightly.

‘Well, fill me in while we walk.” You say beginning to walk again. Kanamori picks up his pace to walk in step with you.

“You… Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. Mr. Haganezuka is… hm. Trying to think of the correct word... He’s… protective over his clients. Mainly the ones he… is… fond of?” You continue walking, the diner coming into view.

“Fond?” You echo. “Are we talking about the same swordsmith?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Mr. Haganezuka is not fond of me. I can assure you that.” You laugh heartily, waving him off.

“Miss, I can assure that he is. I’ve known him for years.” Kanamori stresses. You reach for the door but he steps in your way.

“I am hungry, Kanamori.”

“Miss Y/n, dining with his competition is… He… he will be very…”

“Why don’t you join us? It’s not a date or something, just breakfast.” You say as Kanamori shakes his head so hard his mask almost topples off.

“Like I said… he’s fond of you and I’m not-” You reach out, grabbing Kanamori by the shoulder and guiding him out of your way.

“You are overthinking, alright?” You step inside the diner and glance around, the man who invited you wasn’t here yet so you took your seat and ordered some hot tea. You sipped on it, watching the trees sway outside of the window when suddenly someone sat in the seat across from you. You turned and met the mask you had been dreading to see. You sucked in a breath as Mr. Haganezuka stared across at you. “Mr. Haganezuka… good morning.” You blushed, clearing your throat.

“Good morning.” He answers tightly, ordering himself a tea. You trace the top of your glass anxiously.

“Beautiful day out today, hm?”

“Hm. Quite beautiful.” He agrees but his eyes stay firmly planted on you.

“My swords fine.” You say but it comes out in a rush.

“That’s good to hear.” He says as a tea is placed in front of him, he angles his mask up a bit and takes a sip. “And are you enjoying the village?”

“Uhm… yes. Yes sir.” You say, blushing slightly.

“Did some relaxing at the hot springs?” This small talk was killing you. You felt like any second he was going to explode. But you entertained it all the same.

“Yes. It was… rejuvenating.” You answer and he nods his head.

“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks and your heart skips a beat or two.

“Hm? Waiting on-- no… no. Not waiting on anyone.” You say and wish you had heeded Kanamori’s warning. This man took his swordsmith position very seriously. It wasn’t like you were going to drop him for another swordsmith. It was kind of a long way to go to keep your business. Haganezuke nods his head. You two eat breakfast, a tense silence growing and once you were done Hanganezuka paid and when his back was turned you tried to make a break for the door when suddenly the man who walked you home came in and you ran smack into him.

“Ah! Miss Y/n! Sorry I’m late for breakfast, I had a last minute client.” He greets as you look at him wide eyed. “What?” He asks then glances behind you. He goes white and you just know Haganezuke had to be erupting in flames by now. The competition hit the door in a sprint and you wish you could have laughed. You turn, a guilty grimace on your face.

“That wasn’t-- I don’t-- I don’t know that freak.” You explained in a rush.

“May I walk you back to your inn?” Hanganezuka asks as you nod your head in a rush. He opens the door for you and you fall in step with the taller man. In the distance you see a cloud of dust and the man you were supposed to meet halfway down the street.

“Mr. Haganezuka-”

“Hotaru.” He interrupts.

“Hm?”

“You can call me Hotaru.” He says as you nod your head quickly.

“Hotaru… You know… I value the swords you make me. No one caters to steel better than you.” You fumbled through your sentence blushing. “And--- I would… never as long as I live… settle for someone else’s sword making over yours.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.” You affirm. “Especially like… someone who’s your competition that I didn’t know was your competition.” You ramble, looking up at the tall man.

“Yeah?” He humors you.

“Yeah!” You decide foolishly to continue. “That guys… a hack. So I've heard.”

“You hear a lot about him?” He asks and you swallow, preparing to lie.

“A bit. All bad things of course, Mr. Haga- er uh- Hotaru.” You say, the morning sun is blocked by the shaded trees that line your path. You and Hotaru were alone on this path, and shaded from any and all prying eyes.

“And you share those sentiments?” He asks, stopping, you almost bump into him.

“Of course I do.” You say hurriedly. Hotaru nods his head slowly, you feel like you're walking on eggshells, hoping you don’t set him off.

“You sure?”

“Yes!” You affirm and watch in real time as Hotaru blows out a breath almost like relief. You furrow your brows slightly.

“That’s good to hear.” He says, stepping closer to you. You freeze, like a deer in headlights as his hand reaches across the expanse between you two and tucks a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. You blush like crazy, heart skipping four to five beats. “Visit again before you leave, Miss Y/n.” He says, leaving you alone on the path, a few steps from your inn. You stare after him and after a moment sit right down on the path. Kanamori’s words come barreling back to you, his words about Mr. Haganezuka being fond of you. You couldn’t believe it before but… now you didn’t know.

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homehappydreams · 4 months ago

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Best Smart Table Lamp FOR LIVING ROOM [INSPIRING] LINK IN BIO

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months ago

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Idk if you wright for him. But sense I saw you wrote DMC Dante x reader...... Could you possibly do a White Rabbit x reader but..... The reader is kind of like his 'Alice' or smth......

A/n: Excellent...low key feel like this man would have a breeding kink

The room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small table lamp casting a warm, amber glow. You sit comfortably on the couch, a book resting in your lap, though your eyes keep drifting away from the pages. The sound of passing cars lingered out side the window.

And yet here you were — his Alice.

White Rabbit stands a few feet away, his back to you, adjusting the cravat around his neck with delicate, almost dainty fingers. Despite the mask, you can sense his focus — the meticulous way he straightens every ruffle, smooths every seam. You can’t help but smile as a soft hum escaped your lips.

"You don't need to do that you know."

He pauses, head tilting slightly in your direction, the light glinting off his glasses. “It’s not for you, Alice,” he says, his tone playful but with a soft undertone of affection. “It’s for me. Gotta keep up appearances, after all.” That was a lie of course, while he was still adjusting to this, to your love the man was still scared that you'd leave him.

You hum, leaning back against the couch. “I still prefer you without it.” You snap the book shut giving him a coy smile. "Don't get me wrong, you're handsome like that but with the mask off you are sexy as fuck

White Rabbit’s hands still, his fingers lingering on the ruffles around his wrists. His shoulders tense for a moment before he lets out a soft, almost reluctant sigh followed by a snort. Slowly, he turns to face you, his mask catching the light, casting a faint shadow across his stitched scars. "Do you truly feel that way?"

You nod, patting the spot next to you. “Come here.”

He hesitates, those bright yellow-orange eyes studying you intently. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty that has your chest tightening.But he moves. He moves with that same fluid grace, folding himself down onto the couch beside you. He’s careful, as if afraid to touch you too much, to get too close. But you don’t let him stay distant for long.

You reach up, fingers brushing the edges of his mask, and he stiffens. “It’s okay,” you murmur. “Let me see you.”

A shiver runs through him, but he nods, the movement jerky, tense. You gently lift the mask, sliding it off his face. Beneath, his dark hair falls in unruly waves, framing a face marked with scars, stitches that wind over his cheekbones, down his jaw. His eyes, now unobscured by the lenses, are even more intense — molten gold, sharp and yet so terribly soft.

You place the mask aside, then cup his face, thumbs brushing over the stitched seams. His breath catches, and he leans into your touch like a man starved.

“Better,” you whisper. “My White Rabbit...my love”

His eyes flutter closed, and when he breathes out, it’s a soft, broken sound. “Yours,” he echoes, his voice a rasp, a prayer.

You press your forehead against his, feeling the steady thrum of his artificial heart beneath your palms. “Always,” you say, fingers trailing down to rest over his chest, where the demon blood pulses in time with his heartbeat. “Always, my White Rabbit.”

His arms come around you then, pulling you close, and he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in like he’s trying to memorize your scent. You let him, fingers combing gently through his hair, grounding him, holding him, loving him.

“And you’re beautiful,” he countered easily, his nose then brushing against yours, his eyes half-lidded and intent. “My Alice, the only one who’s ever made me forget the chaos. You’re my wonderland.”

His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin just beneath your ear. The world seemed to fade away, the distant sounds of the city drowned out by the rapid pounding of your heart.

Your heart ached at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentle, unhurried rhythm.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, a rare vulnerability shining through. “You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “In this mad world?”

You smiled, leaning up to press another soft kiss to his lips. “Always, White Rabbit. Always.”

He exhaled a soft breath, his smile widening as he pressed his forehead against yours once more. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, Alice. Not ever.”

Because that’s what you are to him. His Alice. The one thing that keeps him tethered to the light.

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writingunderneathawillow · 4 months ago

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dozed off (bucky barnes x reader)

content warnings: none, just good old fluff, unless you count sweetest bucky as a warning (i do), gender neutral reader word count: 815

You quietly fumbled with the door of your and Bucky’s joint apartment, your purse and phone clutched in one hand and keys in your other.

When you slowly pushed the door open, excitement flooded your veins as you took in the soft glow of the lamp on the side table next to the couch.

Bucky wasn’t supposed to be home yet; he had texted you earlier that day that he was not going to be back before tomorrow morning. But there he was, his large frame spread out on the couch, chest rising and falling in steady motions.

His eyes were closed, lashes just brushing up against his cheeks as gentle sighs tumbled from his lips.

He looked heartbreakingly endearing, one arm slung out, hovering above the floor as if sleep had taken him while he was reaching for something. You took a few steps towards him, moving as silently as possible in order not to wake him.

Usually, his super soldier hearing would have picked up even the faintest sounds, but exhaustion had knocked him out completely, pulling him into his dreamlands without disturbances.

As you made your way towards him, you couldn’t help but break into a bright smile. Adoration that bordered on worship filled your system as you kneeled down in front of his sleeping figure and gazed at his face. Your eyes traced the contours of his jaw, the point of his nose and wandered to his soft pink lips, which parted slightly as he breathed in. Instinctively, you reached out but stopped yourself just before your fingers could brush up against his cheek. Reluctantly, you pulled back and extended your hand towards the blanket on the back of the couch, draping it over him to keep the cold away.

You wanted to join him on the sofa, burying yourself against his body that you knew like the back of your hand, every dip, every muscle and every scar. Sleeping alone in your shared bed was out of the question, not when he was so close. But the idea of interrupting his slumber, as much as you wanted to see the beautiful blue of his eyes – it would feel like a crime to rip him away from his rest.

So instead, you cozied up on the floor, right beneath him, pulling a blanket and pillow from the armchair to ease yourself onto the ground. The sound of his soft breath was stronger than any sleeping pills, seemingly cradling you and filling your ears like the sweetest melody. Your eyelids grew heavier with every second of his breathing and soon, your own dreams welcomed you.

When Bucky woke up the next morning, he groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he looked around. The couch had been unkind to his neck, which twinged a little with every movement. He was disoriented, surprised to say the least, to have woken up on the couch.

When he had sat down the evening prior, it had been his intention to stay awake, to wait up until your return home. But not ten minutes after his head had hit the pillow, fatigue had caused him to drift off hours before you had arrived.

As his gaze wandered, it stopped on you.

Crumbled next to the couch, blanket pulled up to your chin and fast asleep, you laid there, a content smile plastered across your face despite the fact that your position couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

His heart fluttered as he reached out to you, warmth spreading through his chest.

“Sweetheart?” He asked softly, dragging his knuckles across your cheek.

You stirred lightly, a tiny yawn breaching your lips as you looked at him through heavy lidded eyes.

“Hi,” you greeted him, smiling brighter as your eyes adjusted and you finally got to see his half amused, half concerned face.

“What are you doing on the floor?” His voice was gentle, love seemingly intertwining with his vocal cords.

You chuckled and sat up, scooting closer to him.

With your arms propped up on the cushions of the couch, you rested your chin on your hands and beamed up at him.

“I didn’t wanna sleep without you,” you explained, and his heart might have burst.

“You coulda woken me,” he said and extended his hand to brush a few loose strands of hair from your forehead.

“You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t have possibly done that.”

A sheepish grin snuck onto his face as he pulled you up to him, letting your body melt against his as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What could I have ever done to deserve you?” His question was a whisper, a soft inquiry that tugged at your heartstrings.

You kissed his cheek tenderly, feeling the scruff of his beard beneath your lips.

“I wanted to wait up for you,” he continued and looked at you, “But I must’ve dozed off.”

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

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cumironi · 1 year ago

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HOW TO FUCK 101 .ᐟ

megumi fushiguro you're gojo satoru's sister and megumi fushiguro was the kid that your brother adopted— you're two years older than the boy. one night you caught him having a wet dream about you and he's never fuck before, so you decided to make his dream come true.

beware. nsfw!megumi. 19!megumi. 21!fem x reader. virginity loss. degrading. raw sex. suggestions words. name calling. unprotected sex.

your eyes flutter, try to adjust from the brightness of your lamp— blink for a few times before your blurry vision becomes clear. you look to your left and right around your room. “what—oh fuck..” you groan as you feel the sore in your throat. again, you groan before sitting up and wince when the pain starts kicking you in the head.

“oh fuck! I'm gonna kick satoru for allowing me to drink this much,” you curse your brother under your breath— head resting on your palm for a moment before you stand up abruptly, unintentionally making the pain worse.

“that's it, I'm never gonna drink alcohol ever again!” you make a promise to yourself— which is a lie by the way. slowly, you walk out of your room to the kitchen.

you grab a glass of water to drink. “why is it so quiet in here?” you mumble to yourself and put the glass down after you finish. realize your house feels so quiet and calm. only the sound of soft wind and the cricket faded in the background. only the moonlight filling the room through the big glass wall.

you're about to go back to your room when you hear someone whimpering softly, followed by a moaning and someone calling your name in a whisper.

the sound of soft whimpers, mewled moans and whispers of your name in the dead of the night had captured your full, focused attention— and that curiosity and curiosity alone was the only thing that made you venture down the hallway and closer and closer to the source of the sounds.

while you were unsure of who it was, there was a small, little part of you that was already forming an idea of *who* it was. as silent as possible, you pad closer to his door, careful to avoid the creaks of the floorboards, before leaning in and listening closer, wondering if you had really heard it or if it was all in your head.

but then, faintly, you hear it again—the whimpering, the faint whispering of your name, and a shiver runs down your spine.

the skin of your forehead crinkles as your eyes narrow. your hands make contact with a cold metal door handle. the sound of the door crickets faint as you push the door of megumi's room open. there he is, sprawling on his bed.

megumi's form is illuminated faintly by the moonlight trickling in through the windows, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him asleep on his bed, with nothing but boxer. he's sprawled out on the sheets, limbs splayed out as if in the grips of a dream, the blankets pushed off and tangled at the foot of the bed. his chest rises and falls in soft, rapid breaths, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, caught in the thralls of a dream— his face, flushed and twisted in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

there's an odd tension in the air, something that make your heart flutter in your chest.

his hands move, caressing his body, his neck, and his stomach until it goes down to his dick that only cover with a black boxer, hugging his thigh perfectly. you can see the outline of his dick faintly, how each stroke makes it bigger.

“oh, y/n, fuck..!”

you stupefied. the sound of megumi keeps on moaning your name while moving his hand on his dick, squeezing it gently and your brain work fast enough to know he's having a wet dream about you.

megumi's moans grow louder, more desperate, as his hand continues to stroke and squeeze his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. his hips twitch and buck slightly, riding out the pleasure his hand is giving him as he calls out your name over and over again.

you smile to yourself, and suddenly feel the happiness rush through your blood. you know megumi is a virgin, never had his first kiss, even a girlfriend, but here he is having a wet dream about you while unconsciously moaning your name, don't realize how loud he is.

“megumi,” you wake him up.

the sound of your voice tears megumi from the clutches of his vivid dream, and he blinks blearily up at you, his mind sluggish with sleep. his hand stilling on his crotch as he blinks up at you in a daze. a deep flush creeps across his cheeks and down his neck as he realizes the state he's in, the evidence of his dream still pressing against the fabric.

“y/n...?”

“what are you doing here?” he asked you, dripping in sweat.

“no, megumi, what are you doing?” you asked him in a teasing tone as you pointed to his hand that still squeezed his bulge with your eyes.

megumi's cheeks flush a deep crimson, his eyes widening as he realizes the compromising position he's in, and the state of arousal he's clearly in. he tries to pull his hand away, but the lingering warmth and moisture make it cling to the fabric.

“I... I was just...”

“i can help you, you know..” you smiling sweetly to him.

before megumi got a chance to talk you already laying your body beside him, head resting on his shoulder. your warm hand touches his arousal making megumi moan in pleasure, for a second throwing his head back. his reaction making your smile bigger.

“y/n—stop..!” he stutters.

megumi's pleas fall on deaf ears as you continue to touch him through the fabric, your movements growing more confident and demanding with each passing moment. his breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your hand bringing him closer to the edge far sooner than he expected.

“y/n...”

you stop but your hand doesn't move as you look at megumi. you pushed yourself up a little, with one arm working to support your body. the spike-haired boy's hooded eyes gaze upon you before shifting to your bare leg that resting above his left thigh. megumi can feel the warmth of your pussy behind that thong you use on his thigh.

“megumi..” your honey voice calls him softly.

his blue eyes instantly meet yours. his hot breath close enough to fan your face. “do you want me to help you?” you whisper, alluring. your hand touches his cheek, moving your thumb across. “do you want me to make your dream come true?” again, you whisper, forehead barely touching.

his eyes look down to your lips before back to your eyes, “yes,” he breathes out. a smile growing beautiful on your lips, “okay.” you stuck out your tongue a little before giving megumi a sloppy kiss. “kiss me,” you nibbled his bottom lips making the boy startled for a moment before he closed his eyes and kissed you back.

megumi's lips meld against yours, his hesitation quickly giving way to a growing passion as you nibble and tease. his own tongue darts out, exploring the warmth of your mouth. his hands find their way to your waist, fingers digging in slightly as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss.

you take his right hand, bring it to your boobs, guiding him to squeeze it. with a shaky exhale, megumi complies, his hand hesitantly cupping the supple flesh of your breast through the fabric of your top. his touch is tentative at first, unsure, but as he feels your softness, he grows bolder, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple hidden beneath.

megumi shudders at the sound of your moan, his breath hitching as he realizes the effect he has on you. his grip on your breasts tightens, fingers rolling and teasing your nipples. your moan sends shivers down megumi's spine, causing a jolt of pleasure to rush through his body. he gasps slightly, pulling away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. “you like that?” he asks in a husky voice, fingers still massaging your breast.

his heart races, pumping blood through his veins and into his growing erection. the sensation of your breasts in his hands is exhilarating, the excitement making it hard to breathe.

you nodded, “yes, megumi, keep going,” you wanted him to keep on track, feeling the warm hand of his playing your hardened bud. your tongue tingling with his as the saliva drops from the gap between your mouth and his.

your hand moves, sending an electric jolt into his blood with each stroke until it lands on his bulge, squeeze it. in an instant megumi groan vibrates on your lips.

at your words, megumi can't help but feel a sense of pleasure and satisfaction. his confidence grows, fingers teasingly tugging and rolling your nipples. his other hand moves down to grab your ass, pulling you closer and grinding you against his growing erection. a groan escapes his lips as his mouth is assaulted by the sweet taste of saliva mixing with yours.

megumi breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. both of your tongues stick out a little, a string of saliva attached form one another. his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, eyes closed as he continues to massage your breasts. your hand on his bulge sends a shock of pleasure through him and megumi can't help but groan at the sensation.

“lay down, let me take care of you.”

just like magic, megumi lay down on his back. his breath hitch when your hand moves inside his boxer. your cold hand directly touching his cock and just by that megumi feel like he was about to cum. he closed his eyes, and a long moaning left his pink lips.

“never felt your dick touched by a girl, does it feel good, ’gumi?”

“y-yes...” megumi stutters, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. his hips jerk reflexively as your cold hand wraps around his throbbing cock. the sensation is overwhelming, sending electric shocks through his veins. “it feels...amazing...” he manages to whisper, his voice trembling with desire.

as you free his cock from the confines of his boxer, he can't help but let out a low moan of pleasure. the feeling of your touch is electrifying, and megumi can feel every nerve in his body come alive. “fuck!” the moment his dick is free you can see how big his cock is, thick, veiny, swollen, angry red on the tip, standing tall.

seeing how your reaction after seeing his cock megumi feels kind of proud. your eyes popeyed and the way your cheeks became crimson red sending a smile on megumi's face. you can feel his cock throbbing and twitching under your touch. “do you love it, y/n? is my dick big enough for you?” like a kid he ask you.

“so big megumi, I wonder how it feels to be inside my pussy,” you smile at him as you move your hand on his cock up and down, giving it a light squeeze.

a low growl escapes his lips as he hears your words. the thought of being inside you is almost too much to bear. he takes your hand and guides it up and down his shaft, showing you how he likes it. “mm, yes, just like that,” he moaned.

“like this, gumi? feel good, hm?” you give his hard-rock cock light pressure as your thumb caresses the tip, smearing the pre all over his tip.

“fuck, y/n, that feels amazing...” he moans, bucking his hips up into your touch. the feeling of your thumb on the tip of his cock is almost unbearable, causing him to twitch and throb in your hand.

“fuck,” he groans as you keep touching him. he can't believe how good it feels. he watches as your thumb spreads his precum over the tip of his cock, making it slick and ready for more. he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes locked on yours.

been alive for nineteen years and he never knew getting a hand job was gonna bring him to the seven skies. his head spinning with only thinking about how good it must feel to fuck you, his throbbing dick being hugged by your velvet wall. the thought made him more horny than before like he was in heat.

“ahh... y/n, you're going to make me cum so hard if you keep that up,” megumi warns through gritted teeth, his eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in the pleasure of your touch. his cock pulses and twitches in your hand, the tip glistening with precum.

“cum for me gumi..”

“ahh, fuck... y/n...” megumi moans loudly as he cums hard, his body trembling and a string of semen shooting from his cock onto your hand and his stomach. he watches in amazement as you keep squeezing his cock, milking every last drop from him.

“good boy, good, good boy,” you whisper in his ear, nibbling his ear before going down to his neck, biting and sucking his soft, sweaty skin while your hand keeps on messing with his cock. megumi lets out a high-pitched whine as you bite and suck at his neck, his cock still semi-hard and sensitive from the intense orgasm. “y/n, ahh! that feels so good, but I'm so sensitive right now...” he gasps, his fingers digging into your shoulders.

his hips buck against your hand, wanting more and more. he loves the feeling of your teeth and lips on his neck, sucking and biting at it, leaving hickeys.

“i know you want me, your body couldn't lie, look at you moving your hips against my hand, wanting for more,” you tease, leaving his neck in the void as you look at his midnight blue eyes. “it is your first time getting a hand job, megumi? I can't blame you if you want more,” you whisper seductively. your feet tangled with his as your half-body above his side. your hand slowly going up and down on his cock. a soft whimper escaping his lips as your hand continues to stroke his sensitive cock.

under the moonlight megumi's cheeks became crimson red, flustered as you caught red-handed. seeing how sweet your smile to him makes him wonder what those lips could do besides talking too much.

as his cheeks burn a deep shade of red, unable to deny or confirm your teasing words. he finds himself moving his hips, fucking your hand as he watches you with those alluring eyes. he loves looking at you and can't look away from your face. he feels so vulnerable and exposed at this moment, but also incredibly turned on.

“words, megumi..”

megumi's breathing becomes erratic as he nods in response to your question, his eyes locked on yours. the sensation of your hand on him is foreign yet incredibly pleasurable. “y-yes, it's my first time... with anyone,” he admits, his voice trembling slightly as your skilled hand works its magic. megumi's breaths quicken, his chest heaving with each stroke, desire coursing through his veins. “I-I want more, please...”

“tell me what you want, gumi, I'll do anything for you.”

megumi's hips buck involuntarily as your words ignite a fire within him. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as his moans grow louder. megumi's gaze intensifies, his lips parting as he struggles to form coherent words. the desire in his eyes is palpable as he looks up at you, his body arching into your touch. “I-I want your mouth on me, please... s-suck me, taste me,” he mumbled.

“anything you want baby,” you bit his jaw before positioning yourself between his legs— spreading it open a little more. you lying there, cheek resting on his cock as you look at him, smiling, sending butterflies fluttering in his stomach. megumi groans seeing the state of yours, shining under the moonlight.

“do I look beautiful like this, gumi?”

megumi, can't help but let out a low, guttural moan at your question. he reaches down, his hand gently caressing your hair as he stares down at you with a mixture of lust and affection. “Yes, y/n...you look incredibly beautiful like that,” his voice barely above the whisper. for a few seconds, he admires you before his eyes darken with desire as he nods fervently, his voice low and husky when he responds. “so stunning, y/n. so fucking beautiful, just like this.” his hands move to grip your hair, gently tugging you closer to his cock.

megumi's eyes glint with a feral intensity as he pulls your head closer to his cock, his breath hot against your hair. he rocks his hips slightly, his length nudging the back of your throat as he grunts. “open up for me, y/n...”

with a subtle growl, megumi tugs on your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into your warm, inviting mouth. he leans back against the bedrest, his hips instinctively bucking forward, seeking more of your lips and tongue on his aching cock. “fuck, y/n..”

megumi's fingers tighten in your hair as he gently but firmly pushes your head down further, his cockhead nudging past your lips, the tip brushing against your tongue. he hisses through clenched teeth as he feels your mouth envelop him. “that's it, baby, take me deeper...”

megumi groans loudly, his breaths quickening as you work your magic on his cock. your tongue swirls deftly around the head, flicking at sensitive spots and causing him to shudder. “fuuuuck...y/n, just like that…”

as you move your mouth up and down, swirling your tongue around his length, megumi can't help but let out a string of filthy curses. he's panting heavily, gripping the sheets underneath him tightly with his free hand. your long nail pressed against his thigh hard.

with an eager groan, megumi begins to thrust his hips upwards, slowly at first, then quickening the pace as if he refused to let you breath. he lets out a moan as he watches you take his cock in your mouth, feeling the wet heat of your tongue wrapping around his length.

his hand tugging on your head rough enough to make you moan sending a vibration to his cock. “oh, fuck!” megumi groans as he throws his head back. your hands grip his thigh and try to push your head away but megumi doesn't seem like he's on the same page as you. “no, y/n, don't— fuck!” his grip on your hair doesn't fade when his palm is clamping down on your throat. with light force, you thrust his cock back into your throat, choke you in the process as you feel the pressure of his palm squeezes your throat.

megumi's grip tightens around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he starts to fuck your face with increasing urgency. his cockhead hits the back of your throat with a wet slap, making you gag and choke around him.

“take it all, y/n...”

megumi's eyes are wild with lust and possessiveness as he watches you struggle to breathe around his cock. his grip on your throat tightens, just enough to make it difficult but not impossible, as he starts to thrust into your mouth with increased urgency. “y/n, my perfect little cocksleeve...” he smiling to you.

megumi's hips snap forward, plunging his hard cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. the wet, slurping sounds of you gagging and choking around him fill the room as he fucks your face relentlessly, his grip on your hair and throat unrelenting. “fuck, yes!”

tears mass around your eyes, threatening to rain on your flush pink cheeks. hooded as you look at megumi, eyes never leave each other. smile never leave, “so perfect y/n, your pretty face getting fuck by me. cry for me, cry for me y/n...” his hand on your hair before moving slowly to wipe your tears away.

“that's right, y/n,“ he coos, wiping your tears away with a gentle stroke of his thumb before returning his hand to your hair. “cry for me, let me see how broken you are from taking my cock like the good girl.” seeing your tears only fueled his desire, the twinge of guilt, but it was shoved back down and ignored. “you're so pretty, y/n... pretty when you cry, pretty when you choke on my cock...”

your tears only heighten his arousal as he continues to thrust into your throat. his touch is gentle, despite the harshness of his thrusts, as his hand gently brushes away the tears that manage to escape your eyes. his heart races, knowing how he has the power to make you cry and he loves this power.

the sister of gojo satoru's, the special-grade sorcerer here in his room, getting fuck in the face by a virgin boy. seeing the strongest become the weakest under his touch, megumi had never known the feelings before until now. the thought only brings him so much joy and pride.

megumi's hand moves to grip your hair, tighten it, and starts to thrust harder, chasing his orgasm. his balls slapping against your chin with each brutal thrust. “almost, ah fuck— there, y/n...” he growls, his voice strained with the intensity of his impending orgasm. “h-here it comes, y/n...” with one last hard thrust, megumi cums deep down your throat, filling you with his warm release as he continues to hold you in place.

“take it all.. my perfect little cumdump...”

he emptied his ball into your throat, filling it with his cum beautifully before he pull his cock out. you gladly gulp his hot seed whole before sitting up. your finger touches the side of your lips, sucking a tiny drop of his cum that remains on there. “so sweet,” you smile at him, face wet from the crying.

megumi watches intently as you eagerly suck his cum from your lip swallow his cum and then lick your lips, savoring the taste, a possessive gleam in his eyes. he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your wet face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “you look so beautiful, all flushed and covered in my seed...” a satisfied grin spreading across his face. he stroke your cheek, his touch gentle compared to his rough handling moments ago. “so cute, licking my cum from your lips...”

you crawl to his lap as he happily hugs your waist. his large warm hand soft and gentle brushing your hair, hoping it could ease the pain from tugging it too rough. your arm clinging around his neck. “let me see, baby, did you swallow it all?” obedient, you open your mouth.

megumi leans in, his eyes locked on your open mouth, inspecting it for any remnants of his, his work. a pleased hum escapes him when he sees none left behind. “good girl, swallowing every drop like a good little cocksleeve for me.”

“i am, now give me a kiss,” you demand. megumi raises an eyebrow at your request, a hint of possessiveness flashing across his face at your request. “you want a kiss after I just treated you like a whore?” he asks, his voice low and husky. his lips curling into a slight smirk before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a possessive kiss, his tongue invading your mouth to taste the remnants of his cum.

while kissing your hand move to open the buttons of your white shirt and toss it somewhere you don't pay any attention to. leaving you with nothing but a black tong.

megumi's eyes glimmer with lust as he breaks the kiss, his gaze traveling down to your exposed chest. “like that, huh?” he murmurs, his hand trailing up your bare side, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, his thumb brushing over a hardened nipple.

megumi's hand trails down your body, slipping between your thighs and rubbing against the fabric of your black panties. “such a needy little thing,” he comments, his smirk growing wider. “you want me to fuck you, don't you?” you nodded eagerly.

“fuck me, fuck me with your virgin dick.”

megumi's eyes darken with primal desire at your words. he yanks your panties down, exposing your slick, bare pussy to his hungry gaze. megumi’s fingers twitch, a dark hunger flashing across his face. “you’re so desperate for it, aren't you?” he whispers against your lips. “so filthy, begging for my virgin cock.”

“yes, please megumi, fuck me,” you begged him. knowing you're gonna be his first sending an electric jolt in your blood and the more you thought about it the more excited you are. megumi smirks as he sees the desire and desperation in your eyes, his cock throbbing for the nth time at the sight of your wet, bare pussy. “I'll fuck you,” he says, his voice hoarse with need. “i'll fuck you so hard gojo gonna know how such a slut his sister is.”

megumi pushes you back onto the bed, his hands roughly gripping your thighs as he positions himself between them. he trails his thick cockhead through your dripping folds, covering his cock with your essence, teasing you with the promise of penetration.

he wastes no time, aligning his throbbing cockhead with your entrance. he grunts as he enters you, breaking his barrier. he freezes for a moment, his body tensing in both pleasure and pain when his cock throbs, fully embedded inside your tight, wet heat.

“oh fuck!”

the new level of pleasure sends megumi to the bridge of death, he can't move, he doesn't want to move. he wants to appreciate the pleasure, the warm gummy wall of yours hugging his cock. you can feel him twitching and throwing a veiny cock touching every corner of your pussy.

“fuck, you're so tight,” he mutters, his voice heavy with a mix of pleasure and pain. he groans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he slowly keep his composure and starts moving in and out of you. his hips rocking back and forth, creating a gentle rhythm that sends waves of pleasure through your body.

“fuck, so big— Ngh! so.. so big!”

megumi chuckles darkly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. he thrusts harder, his cock driving deep into your pussy with each stroke. “i know, i know... you're a tight little cunt, aren't you? gonna make me cum so hard...” his thrusts becoming faster and harder.

“yes, yes, faster— fuck.. me.” you choke on your own saliva as you keep moaning.

“fuck y/n, you're such a slut, asking for my cock like that..” megumi smirks as he speeds up, his hips thrusting harder and faster into you. his thrusts becoming more forceful, pounding into you with a reckless abandon. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room.

megumi can't help but be drawn to your bouncing breasts as he fucks you relentlessly. he leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

“fuck, you're so hot,“ megumi grunts. his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and biting it gently as he continues to fuck you. his other hand reaches up to grope and squeeze your other breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

your hand gripping on his hair fistful. the pleasure of getting fuck by his big cock and his mouth on your nipple making you seeing stars. this new side of megumi you never know exists is making you feel something new.

once he was only the boy who your brother adopted a few years ago. shy, timid, introverted, calm, always collected and respect older— except your brother, he can't stand that guy, , megumi fushiguro, hanging around with the first-year, yuji Itadori and nobara kugisaki.

but here he was fucking you to oblivion and lost his virginity. swearing, cursing, and treating you like a slut you are, degrading you with no shame, relentless assault on your body. “you like that, don't you? you love being fucked like a little whore.” he grunts, his voice rough and unyielding. megumi's head jerks up from your breast, a look of wild abandon in his eyes as he sees the intensity of your reaction.

seeing the way your eyes rolled back to your brain mouth-opened, you nodded, “so good, yes— I'm— fuck!!” you can't say another word, suddenly became dumb just from his cock. megumi's face splits into a savage grin, his hand reaching up to grip your throat as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. “that's right, you dirty little slut,“ he growls.

“my dirty little slut.”

stopping only to flip you over onto your hands and knees, presenting that deliciously plump ass of yours to him. megumi grabs onto your hips, using them to guide his cock back into your dripping-wet pussy. without waiting for you, “here it comes,” he grunts, slamming back into you hard, watching as your tits bounce with each thrust.

“fuck!” you scream.

now feeling his cock the fullest inside your pussy, bigger each second. your back arch from the sudden filled, eyes closed tight. megumi watch every bits of your experience through the mirror Infront you his bed.

"fuck, your pussy is so tight," megumi groans, his thrusts getting harder and faster as he watches your body writhe in pleasure. never taking his eyes off of you, megumi watches as your body reacts to his cock. the way you arch your back, the little gasps and moans that escape your lips, it all goes straight to his head. “you love it don't you? my cock filling you up completely,” he smirked.

his hand is gripping your throat, guiding your face to look at the mirror, “open your eyes for me baby,” his deep voice ringing in your ear. “look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut. I knew you were a dirty whore at heart,” he whispered in your eyes, bent down to you as he continued watching you from the mirror. his smile grew wide as you smiled in your reflection.

“you know me so well, Gumi,” you sang happily.

megumi's smile only grows wider as he hears you call him by his pet name. “I know you better than anyone else,” he says, thrusting his cock deeper into you. “you're mine now, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“i'm yours— Ngh.. I'm, fuck!” you can't even finish a sentence.

megumi chuckles, his grip on your throat tightening as he fucks you harder. “that's right, you're mine,” he growls, his eyes locked on your reflection as you gasp and moan beneath him. his hand still wrapped around your throat as he continues to fuck you from behind.

“gumi, I wanna—”

“don't you dare cum until I give you permission,” megumi snaps, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “you're mine, and you'll cum when I want you to. now, be a good little girl and keep taking my cock like a good little slut.” he lays on his back while positioning you on top of him, facing the mirror. his hand on your thigh as he guide you to move.

“ride my cock, y/n,” megumi growls, his hand gripping your hips as you start to move up and down on his shaft. his other hand finding your breast, kneading it roughly as you begin to move on top of him. “show me that pretty face while you take my cock. let me watch you get fucked senseless in the mirror. show me how much you love taking my cock.”

megumi's eyes are fixed on yours in the mirror as you ride him harder and faster, his hands guiding your hips up and down on his cock. his breathing becomes heavier, his abs tightening with every thrust.

“that’s it, baby…”

megumi suddenly grips your hips hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you down onto his cock with a loud grunt. “fuck, yes, just like that,” he growls, his face twisted in pleasure and dominance. “oh, y/n, so good, fuck me so good..”

megumi grunts, his own orgasm building as he watches you ride him hard in the mirror. "you're going to cum soon, aren't you?" you nodded, you're too-fucked to say a word. he smiles as a string of your saliva land on his bare chest, mouth half open from the pleasure.

“cum for me, baby.”

megumi's grip tightens on your hips as his orgasm approaches, a low growl rising in his throat. “I’m going to cum inside you, baby,” he pants, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

with a final, brutal thrust, megumi spills his seed deep inside you, his hot cum coating your insides as he groans in pleasure. “fuck yeah,” he hisses, holding you tight against him as his orgasm wracks through him.

“take all of it, baby.”

megumi's cock twitches deep inside you as he cums, filling you up with his hot load. your eyes roll back in your head as you moan, riding through your own orgasm as he pins you down on top of him. “that's right, baby,” he grinds up into you harder, the angle and intensity pushing you over the edge. “cum for me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. “show me how much you love my cock.” you scratch his cheat the moment the edge hit you. a long moan leaves your dry throat.

megumi's hands roam down your body, gripping your hips and pulling you tight against him as he catches his breath. his lips find your neck, planting soft, wet kisses there as the two of you lay tangled together on the bed.

megumi's chest heaves with ragged breaths as he holds you close, his spent cock still buried inside you. “you took my cum so well,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “now turn around and straddle my face so I can taste you,” you sitting on his face without thinking too much, do not scare if you're suffocating him.

megumi's hands grip your thighs as you turn around, his tongue lashing at your clit with renewed hunger. “cum for me, again baby,” he demands, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to feel you squirt all over my face,” his voice vibrates in your pussy.

you move your hips to his face, grinding on his nose as you feel it rubbing on your clit. your hand took a fistful of his jet black hair while the other squeezed your breasts. “fuck yeah, ride my face like that,” megumi growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he focuses on your clit, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“t-that's right, baby,” you grunts.

his hands roam up your body, fingers tweaking at your nipples roughly as he hears your moans filling the room. his hands going down to gripping your ass tightly as he pulls you down onto his face, forcing more pressure onto your clit. his tongue probes deeper, swirling around in delicious circles as your orgasm builds higher and higher.

his tongue thrusts in and out of your dripping folds, savoring your and his sweet nectar and making you buck and moan uncontrollably.

“more, gumi, fuck.. more.”

“more? beg for it,” megumi challenges, his voice rumbling against your sensitive clit. he increases the pressure of his tongue, swirling and flicking it over your nub as he continues to eat you out greedily. he suckles on your clit hungrily, his teeth grazing lightly as he flickers his tongue over the sensitive nub.

“please, gumi. want more, want to cum,” you beg desperately, tugging his hair.

“then cum for me," megumi growls, his hands digging into the flesh of your thighs as he intensifies his oral assault. he slurps and sucks, his tongue darting deep inside you as he works to push you over the edge. “do it, baby. cum all over my face.” his hands moving up to grasp your breasts firmly, pinching and rolling your nipples as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Ahh, fuck!” you reach your edge for the second time that night. feeling your pussy clench against megumi's mouth and your feet shaking as you cum and squirt on his face.

megumi moans in delight he feels your pussy spasm against his mouth, drinking up your orgasm as you squirt on his face and into his mouth, the taste of your cum sweet and intoxicating. he laps it up eagerly, not wasting a drop of your sweet release as you shudder and gasp in pleasure.

he licks up every drop of your release, savoring your essence as you tremble above him. you pull back and sit on his chest, his lips and chin glistening with your juices, and gazes up at you with an intense, almost possessive look in his eyes.

“such a good girl, coming on my face like that. you taste so fucking good, baby,” he smiles as you go down to kiss his lips, returning the smile.

you lie beside him as he covers you and his naked body with the blanket. his arm wrapped around your body caressing his finger up and down to your back. with your feet tangled with his, your arm resting on his chest as you stroke your thumb across his cheeks. you smile at him with his other hand softly caressing your arm, tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

megumi's eyes soften as he watches you smile, that cute dimple on your cheek making him just want to kiss you even more. he continues to gently stroke your hair, enjoying the closeness between you. “i love seeing you smile, you know that?” your smile visibly wider under his words.

eyes gleam with possessive affection as he watches you, his hand never stilling its gentle caresses. he pulls you closer, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. “mine,” he murmurs against your mouth, as if to reassure himself as much as you.

he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. he nuzzles his nose against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “so beautiful, so perfect... I could watch you cum all day,” the words leave from his mouth making you giggle. “are you sure you never had sex before?”

“are you sure you never had sex before?” you jokingly ask him but genuinely curious. the way he fucked you before doesn't show someone inexperienced. he clearly knows how to fuck and know how to treat a girl in bed.

megumi chuckles, a low, husky sound that sends shivers down your spine. “of course I have never had sex before,” megumi replies, rolling his eyes at your question. “and just because I fuck you skillfully means nothing,” he pauses, a hint of a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “...I've done my... homework.”

“and watch a lot of porn,” he mumbled, looking away from you. megumi's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as you squeeze his cheek playfully and laugh. “you are so cute,” you squeal. he looks up at you through his lashes, a mix of embarrassment and adoration in his eyes. “shut up,” he mutters, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.

after a moment, megumi's embarrassment fades and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. he looks up at you with a soft, yearning expression. “can I... can I do something for you now?” he asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, gumi?” you press a soft kiss on his forehead.

megumi shivers at the kiss on his forehead, his breath hitching. “I... I want to taste you,” he admits, his eyes darkening with desire. “please, let me suck your pussy. I want to make you feel good like you did for me,” shyly, his voice trembling slightly.

“but you already did?”

“i know, I know,” megumi says, looking away in embarrassment. “but... I want to do it again. please?” he peeks up at you through his lashes, his eyes pleading, full of hope. “can I taste you? just for a little while longer?” he bites his lip, a wave of desire and needs washing over him.

he hugged you tight, slightly pouting as he pressed his chin in your breasts, pressed the soft meat balloon on his neck. “I couldn't stop thinking about how good you taste. how wet and sweet you were. I need to... to have you in my mouth again.” your hand slips his hair behind his ear.

chuckling, “such a needy little thing, are you?”

megumi blushes at your words, but he doesn't look away from you. instead, he nods eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement and lust. “yes... I'm your needy little thing,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

“please... y/n..”

“okay,” it's not like you can say no to him.

with a soft whimper of delight, he goes down inside the blanket, between your thighs before throwing the blanket off.

“I love you, baby girl,” megumi whispers quietly, his breath warm against your pussy as he holds the two of your thigh close. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh and continues to stroke it soothingly. megumi buries his face between your thighs, his warm breath tickling your sensitive flesh. he begins to lick and suckle at your pussy, his tongue darting in and out to lap up your juices.

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