Tumgik
#back to work with me but here's a little something
Note
[🍩] soft!dom!rafe x breeding kink x corruption kink😜😜 with hella dirty talk😫
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warnings: bambi!reader, innocent!reader, established relationship, making out, heavy petting, pussy slapping, oral (f. receiving), rafe is messyyyyy lol, unprotected sex, rough sex, crying, blood (very little, it’s from a bite lol), breeding, multiple orgasms, rafe slaps you just once, corruption kink, lots of dirty talk, first time, loss of virginity, fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, slapping, soft aftercare, brief mentions of having kids
a/n: i think i got really carried away with this but breeding kink with bambi was something i wanted to write but was unsure of how to start it lol so thank you so much for this request 🤍
rafe was in heaven right now and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. he kissed you gently, the feeling of your fingers stroking his face while he caged you between his arms was everything he didn’t know he needed. “you show up in this pretty little dress of yours, did you have this planned?” you gasped when you felt his hand snake under the soft material of your dress, his touch skimming over the waistband of your underwear. “no. ‘just wanted to look pretty for you..” you whispered, those doe eyes of yours beaming up at the man on top of you. “you do. you look perfect.” rafe sighed.
slipping his tongue in your mouth, your eyebrows drew together as you couldn’t help but move your hips against the thigh he had between your legs. rafe looked down, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched you rut against him. “does that feel good?” he hiked your dress up, wanting a better view of your clothed cunt. you hummed, your skin flushing as rafe concentrated on the way you moved underneath him. hands roaming your body, there wasn’t an inch of you that went untouched. slipping your dress off, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest.
despite you two being together for a while, the furthest you two had ever gotten was making out and a little groping here and there, but that was it. rafe had no problem waiting until you were ready to go there. you shivered, the chilly air of rafe’s room making your nipples harden right before his eyes. “fuck, bambi..” he cupped one of your tits, a whimper leaving your lips when he leaned down and took the other in his mouth. “are you okay if i do this?” you glanced down at his hand moving your underwear to the side. meeting his eyes, you nodded. “please.”
rafe watched your face morph into one of full blown pleasure when he gathered the wetness at your entrance and glided the tips of his fingers to your clit. “you’re soaked.” he laughed, making you turn your head away from him out of shyness. grabbing your chin, rafe squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to look at him as his fingers started working your sensitive bundle of nerves. you were instantly trying to draw away from his digits, the motions being far too much for you at once. “shhh, don’t run from it,” he licked a stripe up the column of your throat, “let me watch you.” he smiled teasingly.
you smiled back, only for it to be wiped from your face when he slapped your folds, the sensation making you jolt. despite it stinging for a quick second, you started chasing his hand for more. “you want another one?” he slapped you again, this time making your thighs shake, “my little whore likes that, huh?” you were surprised at the name calling, but even more suprised when you found out you liked it. “talk to me, baby. tell me what you want..” his lips ghosted over yours. rafe had gotten you so wet, you could hear your slick with each stroke of his fingers. “wanna go all the way with you, ray..”
rafe swore he could hear the angels singing. he’s been waiting, anticipating for this day to come. “yeah?” he kissed you, slotting himself between your thighs before pulling away from your cunt. “yes. ‘want you so bad!” you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. you watched him pop his fingers in his mouth, sucking the remnants of you off of his digits. oh, god. pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. taking your underwears off in one swift movement, you palmed rafe in his shorts, your eyes widening when you felt how large he was in your hand.
“you’ll be fine, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you..” in rafe’s mind, you had already did this before, but the look on your face was starting to make him think otherwise. his suspicions were confirmed when you looked up at him with watery eyes. “is it going to hurt?” you whimpered, his erection resting heavily on your tummy. rafe studied you for a moment. “you’ve never had sex before?” you shook your head, biting your lip nervously. rafe felt so wrong for being so turned on at the revelation. “have you ever touched yourself?” rafe was on the brink of losing his mind. “no..”
that was it. this man was going to ruin you. “i’m sorry, it’s embarrassing.” you pouted, looking away from him. embarrassing? rafe felt like he could cum right then and there. “that’s not embarrassing at all, baby.” he reassured you, moving away any stray hairs you might’ve had in your face. “you know what that means? that means i get to turn you into my own personal little slut.” his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach. rafe unbuckled his belt, his shorts and boxers now long forgotten. despite being horny out of his mind, rafe still checked to make sure you were okay.
“are you sure about this, bambi?” you watched as he snaked down your body, hooking your thighs to his shoulders. a shaky breath left your lips, your hands intertwining with his as he pressed kisses to your flesh. “yes, i want you-” you were cut off by rafe’s tongue delving into your sweetness. your back arched off of his mattress, your thighs threatening to snap around his head. the only word you could use to describe the noises in rafe’s room was lewd. the slurping, grunting, moaning, it was all hitting you at once that this was actually happening.
rafe was so hard already, his own fist wrapped around his cock as he sloppily lapped at your soaked pussy. he couldn’t get enough. instinctively, you couldn’t help your hips from grinding against his face, your boyfriend doing everything to make you tremble and shake in pure bliss. you freed one of your hands from his grip and trailed it up your chest, squeezing your tit while rafe groaned at the sight. “i haven’t even put any fingers in you, baby, you’re going to be a mess by the time i actually fuck you.” you cried out when he sucked your clit, his middle finger prodding at your entrance.
gasping at the intrusion, rafe shushed you as you whimpered at the unfamiliar stretch. “how are we doing, sweetheart?” he looked up at you, cursing under his breath. you were so fucking tight, he could only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. “..hurts a little.” you took a breath, moaning when he curled his digit. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise baby. ‘gonna make you cum so fucking much.” he continued working on your clit, the added stimulation making your eyes screw shut. rafe waited until you were gasping his name before entering a second finger.
you practically screamed, your hands shooting down to dig your nails into his skin. “rafe, i think i’m!-” you froze, your eyes rolling back as you felt a wave of euphoria wash over you. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. suddenly you couldn’t breathe, your mouth falling open in a silent moan before your legs started to shake. rafe knew you were cumming and it only made him go rougher on you, wanting your first orgasm to be unforgettable. inserting a third finger, your eyes shot open as you thrashed against his sheets, your body trying to retract from him.
“r-rafe, s’too much! i can’t!” your words came out choppy with each breath you tried to take, your boyfriend eventually bringing you down from your high. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, your entire body feeling like jelly as rafe came up from between your thighs. the lower half of his face, and even the tip of his nose, was glistening with your slick. rafe had given you a taste of something you soon felt like you couldn’t get enough of. rafe grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look down where he lined his cock up with your entrance.
you met each other’s eyes, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before he slammed into you, both of you having two different reactions. while rafe doubled over, absolutely enthralled by how tight you were, you were crying, your nails leaving crescents in rafe’s side. you were only able to take half of his length, but rafe was determined to give you the whole thing by the time he was done. while the feeling wasn’t exactly painful, you just felt so full. rafe took your lips in a searing kiss, pulling out before thrusting into you again. “you feel so fucking good, you know that?” he praised you.
rafe started thrusting into you until any sense of discomfort melted away. “oh my god, look at you taking me so fucking well..” rafe whispered against your skin, littering your neck and chest with kisses. wrapping your arms around his neck, you didn’t hold back from moaning underneath him. “rafe go faster, please!” your boyfriend smiled, pulling away momentarily to see that dark look in your eyes. “whatever you want, baby.” you cried out when his hips slammed into your own, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. “oh, rafe..” you shuddered, now that you were filled to the brim.
“you’re so perfect, you want this dick everyday?” you nodded frantically, not seeing how you could go without it now. “yeah? i bet you do..” he laughed, “‘been wanting to corrupt you since i got you, baby. your sweet little innocent eyes looking up at me when i would rub you through your panties, you have no idea how bad i wanted to get you naked and fuck you until you were crying for me to stop.” he slapped your cheek, a gasp leaving your lips at the action. “look at you now, you’re gonna be begging for this all the time.. ‘might just fuck a baby into you, huh?” you whimpered at his words.
“i want that.” you panted, his pubic bone slamming down on your clit with each thrust. “yeah? you want me to fill you up? get you all pretty and pregnant?” god, what was happening to you? “yes, ray! i want it so bad, ‘want your babies!” now it was rafe’s turn to get hysterical, the idea of you growing round with his seed turned him on beyond belief. “fuck!” he grunted, “oh, i wanna see that so bad, ‘want you walking around tanneyhill with your tummy full. everyone will know what we did.. what you let me do to you.” rafe didn’t care if it was the heat of the moment making you two talk like this, he just knew that you were it for him.
“how about i breed you right now, bambi? you want that?” he hoped you’d say yes, considering he wasn’t going to last very long. when he felt you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in, he nearly lost it by how turned on he was that you wanted the same thing. “please give it to me!” you cried, your boyfriend pulling you into his chest where he embraced you, making you unable to move away from him. you buried your face in his neck, biting down on his flesh as his hips stuttered, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside of you. you relished in the feeling, your walls milking him for all that he had.
“son of a- fuck! you’re squeezing me so fucking hard.” he shivered, the feeling of you gripping him from the base was undeniably the best thing he’s ever felt. reaching down, rafe rubbed hard circles on your clit until you came around him, only making you spasm even more. after you had raked your nails down his torso, and drew blood from biting him so hard, rafe had pulled out of you with a hiss, not a single drop of cum dribbling out. you had taken it all. “holy shit, are you okay, babe?” you looked spent. droopy eyes, swollen lips, tear stained cheeks, rafe thought you couldn’t get any more prettier than this.
you spotted the bite mark on his neck. “ray, you’re bleeding..” you attempted to sit up but failed pathetically when your arms gave out from under you. “s’okay.. stay right here, i’ll be right back.” you were dazed, your vision hazy as rafe went to grab a cold towel. when he came back, the blood from the curve of his neck was gone and he wrapped you in his sheets. dabbing the towel on your forhead, you suppressed a giggle at his ministrations. “i’m okay, rafe.” you pecked his cheek, grabbing his arm so he could spoon you. pressing a kiss to your temple, he massaged soothing circles into your side.
“you were so good for me, baby..” he whispered, his words making your heart flutter in your chest. “you promise i wasn’t some amateur?” rafe shushed you, a laugh tumbling from his mouth. “no way, you were great. i don’t know how we’re gonna get through a day without ravaging each other.” you hummed, already daydreaming about the next time. “did you mean what you said earlier? about wanting a baby?” rafe turned you around so you were face to face. you trailed a finger down his jaw. “well, i’ve always wanted kids..” you smiled. “with me though?” rafe’s eyes softened when you nodded.
“with only you..”
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nymphoniah · 2 days
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lessons learned | logan howlett
AN: here's a little drabble about logan fucking you from behind, keeping you in a headlock, squished between his biceps <3 and also some dirty talk here and there!
pairing: mean!logan x afab!reader
content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), dom!logan, choking, dacryphilia, name calling, porn without plot, dirty talk, creampies, unprotected sex, pet names (princess, doll, etc.), size kink, mark leaving (ie. hickeys), breeding kink, brat taming, rough sex
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logan sees the way you watch his arms hungrily, your lust blown pupils observing the way his muscles twitch when he's feeling tired. he knows the chokehold he has on you.
just a poor little thing, wrapped around his finger.
"i see the way you look at my arms, darlin", he grunts, manhandling you so your back presses against his chest, his toned arms snaking around your waist, keeping you locked in place.
"you don't even try to hide it," logan adds, pressing kisses against your shoulder, his hands working at the straps of your tank top, slowly sliding them down to reveal your tits.
"such a dirty girl, hm?" he teases, rolling the sensitive buds between his thumb and index finger.
"were you ever taught that it was rude to stare?" he hisses, tugging at your nipples, making you wince out in pain. logan smirks at your audible displeasure, now turning his attention from your tits to your neck.
"i’m gonna mark you up doll, ‘oughta teach you a lesson somehow," he growls. logan presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, making his way down to your nape, planting wet kisses along the way.
you lean forwards, giving him easier access to your neck—and when you give him an inch, he takes a mile.
his kisses get more erratic, sloppier, messier, hungrier. he can’t hold himself back, he needs to mark you, and absolutely wants to show the whole world that you’re his.
and so he sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your neck, paying sweet attention to how your weak moans escaped from your lips. he’d nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave those love bites you both oh-so carnally desire.
your brain is all fuzzy from the stinging pain you felt on your neck, mixed alongside the growing pleasure you felt between your legs as he simultaneously paws at your tits.
“i can’t take it lo, s’too much,” you whine, shutting your eyes tight. tears start forming around your waterline as he continues his assault on your neck.
just as your vision starts to get hazy, he wraps his left arm around your neck, keeping your face snug between his forearm and bicep.
“be a good girl and fuckin’ take it,” he commands, a singular claw popping out of his right hand, slicing through your mini-skirt to reveal your lacy black pair of panties.
sheathing his claw, he hastily pulls them down to reveal your sopping wet cunt. “fuck me…” he hisses, admiring your cunt in all its glory.
“such a dirty fuckin’ whore, you getting off on this?” he says smugly, slipping a finger between your folds, observing the way your pussy sucks him in.
you weakly nod as you remain sandwiched in his headlock. teetering between the lines of passing out and losing consciousness, you mumble out a string of words—something along the lines of “i need you to fuck me,” or “fuckin’ put it in”; they both mean the same thing to logan anyways.
he obliges, with one arm wrapped around your neck, and the other hastily working at the belt of his jeans. in one swift motion, his boxers and jeans hit the floor in tandem, freeing his cock from the confines of the tight denim.
he spits in his hand, pumping his cock a couple times before he finally lines himself up, and slides himself in, down to the hilt. your pussy sucks him in like a vice, the two of you moaning in unison.
“you’re so tight for me, princess.” he groans, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, fully sheathing himself out, and pushing his full length back into you.
the sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. the pace of which he fucked you made you dizzy, the grip around your neck adding to the immense pleasure you felt in your cunt.
you attempt to press kisses against his bicep as the muscle secures you in place, but you fail to do so, as shown by your wine red lip stick smudged all over his arm.
“such a naughty whore, suckin’ me in like this” he teases, his free hand pressing against the bulge on your stomach, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his. “need this dick to fill you up, huh?”
and you whine as much as your parched voice allowed you to. “want you so bad, lo” you mumble incoherently. “need you stuff me with your cum.”
“such a filthy mouth for a sweet little girl like you,” logan grunts, the movement of his hips getting sloppier. “beg for it.”
“need you to fuckin’ breed me,” you moan, “make me yours,” you cry out— and that’s what makes logan snap.
with a few final deep thrusts, he finishes inside you. his hot ropes of cum fill your cunt to the brim; your arousal mixed with his cum leaks out of your sopping hole before he even pulls out.
he keeps his cock inside you for a minute, pumping whatever he has left inside of you, and finally pulls out. he winces, already missing the way your gummy walls wrapped tightly around his cock.
“need to keep that in you…” he says playfully, plugging your cunt with his thumb, the calloused pad making sure that his cum is stuffed deep inside you.
“now let that be a lesson for you, doll,” he quips, removing his thumb, slipping it into his mouth to taste the mixture of the two of you.
he then brings his thumb to your bottom lip, inviting you to have a taste for yourself. the heady taste of his cum combined with your slick had you moan around him.
he pulls his thumb away from your mouth with a pop, and you look up at him with your fucked-out eyes. you simply nod your head and give him a lazy smile.
surely it wouldn’t hurt to stare at him every now and then.
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court-jobi · 3 days
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Meal Prep
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((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))
Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)
Words: 5k
Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)
Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy
Summary:
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on AO3
When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 
Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 
Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 
Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 
He asks what brought this on~ 
"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 
You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 
– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.
Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.
But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.
Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.
Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 
And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.
He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.
Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."
He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.
You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.
"Whass’wrong with that?" 
Bakugou simply purrs back happily.
"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."
"Maybe I don't want you to stop."
He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 
Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.
"You don't want me to stop." 
Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.
"You want me to stay." 
Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 
Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,
"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”
"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 
"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 
"Hmm– kiss me?" 
Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.
The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 
"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 
Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 
“Hell yes--" 
Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 
Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.
Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.
Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 
Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-
His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 
The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 
Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 
Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.
"Need your gloves?"
Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."
As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 
"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 
A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”
As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.
"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 
"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”
Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.
“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."
He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 
"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"
"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 
One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:
Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.
"Katsuki~~"
"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."
"But I want you~~"
"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 
His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."
A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 
"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"
Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 
Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.
"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.
"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.
Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."
He only gave a bemused scoff.
“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.
"No,"
Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 
"Guess who is?"
"Y-you~"
"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"
Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.
"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."
You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 
"Ugh God..."
His hands pawed at every bit of you.
"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"
Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 
For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.
You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"
"Heh?"
"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."
Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.
"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.
"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."
"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.
"Fuck, me..."
"S'what I'm saying."
Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 
Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.
A muted string of a confession leaves him, 
"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."
"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."
"Yeah?"
"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."
That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.
He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 
Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.
“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”
The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.
"Ready when you are~" 
The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 
Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 
"Atta girl~" 
You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 
Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 
“You got me?”
His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 
Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.
Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,
“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 
But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 
Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 
"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."
Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 
"You're on it-?"
"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 
Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 
"However you want me: inside or out~"
Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."
Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.
"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”
You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 
After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 
Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~
"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.
"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"
Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.
‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’
The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?
"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 
Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.
Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.
“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”
The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.
From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.
Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.
“Fun, right baby?”
Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.
“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”
Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 
“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”
Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.
“That it is…”
Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.
"You like me~" you taunted.
"huh?~~”
"Y’said you loved me..."
Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."
This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–
"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 
At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 
"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 
Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 
You laughed at the nature of it all. 
"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"
Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 
It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 
In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 
"Love you, angel.���
"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.
A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.
"Stay~~" 
Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.
"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 
Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 
He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 
When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 
He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 
You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,
"What, you cold?"
"Little bit~"
"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."
Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.
"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.
Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"
"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."
"We'll figure out the glove thing."
"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”
“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”
Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 
“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 
"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”
"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”
As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 
“I thought you were my dishwasher?”
Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”
“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”
“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”
You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.
This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.
But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 
You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–
When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,
"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 
You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.
What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.
Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.
"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."
You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.
With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...
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Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.
(Steve would do the same for her).
Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.
64 and going down. Not a good sign.
Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”
Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.
“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”
His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.
“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”
Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.
“This tastes like shit, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”
The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.
Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.
57 after he pricked. Thank god.
It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.
He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.
“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.
“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”
Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.
Chrissy would love her.
He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.
“How’s my blizzard?”
He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.
The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”
Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.
“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”
“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”
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hoe4hotchner · 3 days
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hiii!! :3
i saw you asking for fluff requests so... perhaps it's cold out, and the reader is out with hotch (maybe going out to a crime scene or smth) and the readers shivering and hotch looks awfully warm in his coat, so ofc the reader just goes up and asks for a hug! (just to warm up ofc. no other reason to ask your hot boss for a hug 🤭) (maybe the reader manages to slide into his jacket)
tysm! <33
The Jacket Incident | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: it's just cold and you were stupid enough to not wear a warm jacket. Also reader is shorter than Hotch. Fluff.
WC: 0.7k
Why is reader literally me in this one. I'm so dumb and not good at staying warm.
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           The wind howled through the dark, desolate street, biting through the thin layers of your windbreaker as you and Hotch made your way back to the crime scene. You’d been out there for what felt like hours, and no amount of walking had kept the cold from seeping into your bones. Your fingers tingled with numbness despite being shoved deep into your pockets, and a shiver ran down your spine for the hundredth time.
           Hotch, of course, looked completely unbothered. He stood a few feet away, his demeanor calm and composed despite the freezing temperature. You couldn’t help but envy him a little. While you were practically freezing, he seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the cold.
           As you shifted from one foot to the other, trying to get some feeling back into your toes, you watched him finish his conversation. The way he stood, tall and commanding, only seemed to emphasize the fact that he was probably the warmest person in your vicinity. His jacket, the heavy, padded one you both wore during cases in colder climates, was unzipped - wide open, practically inviting you inside.
           You bit your lip, glancing around, trying to work up the nerve to do what you’d been thinking about for the last ten minutes. He was your boss, but more importantly, he was your boyfriend, which gave you a bit more confidence. And the thought of his warmth was too tempting to ignore. Bracing yourself, you took a few steps closer until you were standing beside him, shivering dramatically to make your point.
           Hotch turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at you. "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, but there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
           You nodded, giving him your best pitiful look. "Freezing," you muttered, teeth chattering for good measure.
           Hotch’s gaze softened, and he let out a small sigh, his eyes flicking to your jacket before returning to your face. For a moment, you thought he was going to suggest you head back to the car, but instead, he smiled - just a tiny, private smile.
           Without a word, he opened his arms, his jacket still hanging open, and gave a slight nod toward the space between them. "Come here," he said, his tone warm and inviting, holding the edges of his jacket.
           Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, and without hesitating, you stepped closer, sliding your way into his open jacket. As soon as you were enveloped by his warmth, the world outside seemed to disappear. The heat of his body instantly chased away the cold, and you sighed in relief, nestling against his chest.
           Hotch’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, the thick jacket falling around your shoulders like a protective barrier from the wind. He smelled like his usual aftershave, mixed with the faint scent of coffee and something distinctly him - it was comforting. His hands settled gently on your back, holding you close, and you felt his chin rest lightly on the top of your head.
           "You should’ve said something sooner," he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest.
You grinned, your cheek pressed against his shirt. "Figured you’d be too busy being all stern and in charge to notice."
           Hotch chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you, and you could feel the coldness in your body start to melt away. "I always notice," he replied quietly, his voice a little softer than usual, the warmth in his tone matching the heat of his body.
           You snuggled further into his chest, your hands slipping around his waist as you relaxed into his embrace. The cold air seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting weight of his arms around you.
           "Thanks for sharing your warmth," you mumbled, your words muffled against him.
           "Anytime," Hotch replied, his hand giving your back a gentle rub. "I’m always here to keep you warm."
           The two of you stood there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, you were a sight for sore eyes. The wind and the cold now just background noise.
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k-dgn · 2 days
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Sana's Web
New Writer Debut, A/N at the end! 7.7k Words
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~ CHAPTER 1: Forming a Thread ~
SN: Schedules ended early, so I stopped by your place. Don't keep me waiting too long! 
You were currently at your studio downtown working on edits for your latest client. Some headshots and stills for a new group YG was set to debut later that year, your usual routine. After working in the photography industry for so long, coupled with the rate at which new groups were being pushed out, all the idols seemed to start blending together in your head. Still, you counted yourself blessed and fortunate enough to be able to work with the people that you had. Though you tended not to get starstruck as easily anymore, you thought back to a particular photoshoot you were hired for a couple months prior that hit you a bit differently. When you got the email from a JYP representative that said they were interested in your body of work and wanted to bring you onboard for a solo member project they were working on, you couldn't deny that you weren't at least a little excited to see who you'd be getting the opportunity to work with. You had gotten a chance to work with idols from most of the top name agencies, but this would be the first project you'd be working on under JYP.
On the day of the shoot, your mind was racing thinking about who it could be, but those thoughts were instantly washed away when Sana walked on set. It turned out that the project you were hired for was the next in a line of “Yes, I am” photobooks the company was putting out. After laying out your vision and going over the general game plan for the day, you all got to work. Throughout the shoot you remained the consummate professional that you always were, but you would be remiss if you did not acknowledge how captivating Sana was. She had this inexplicable aura to her that kept drawing you in, only for her to swerve your expectations with an ever-present bubbliness that she had all but trademarked at this point in her career. In between set and outfit changes, you would show her shot previews asking for her opinions. She gave input here and there, even suggesting some things she wanted to try that not even you had thought of, further cementing her status as a veteran idol in the industry. 
All that was fine and well, but it was the little things she would do and the small details you'd take notice of in between shots that made this particular day feel a little different. The way she would lean in close to your shoulder as you showed her the camera. The way her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at you, giving you her full undivided attention whenever you paused the shoot to give her some direction. The way her smile lit up the room when she liked a certain shot preview. You weren't uncomfortable with the atmosphere she was creating on set between the two of you, in fact it was quite the opposite. You were almost more nervous that you were being too comfortable and that it might be perceived as being unprofessional. You tried your best to shake it off, coping that this was just how her personality was, but in the back of your mind a thought flickered that maybe, just maybe there could be a little something more going on there. Nevertheless, you trucked on and finished the rest of the shoot without issue. 
A little part of you was sad that your wonderful time working with Sana had come to an end, but you were grateful for the opportunity either way. You spent the next few days compiling and editing the best shots from the day before sending it over to the company, thanking them for bringing you onboard and stating your openness to future projects with them. Afterwards, all you could do was  hold out some hope that her company would hire you for future endeavors.
Another week passed by and you still hadn’t heard back. Just as you had started to give up hope, you finally received a response, but it was a little different than what you were expecting. Instead of a JYP representative, the message was from Sana’s personal manager. In it, it said that Sana had really enjoyed the finished shots and wanted to thank you personally, leaving you a time and place to be at. As ecstatic as you were, you kept your composure and replied back, thanking them once again for the opportunity and that you’d be happy to meet up. 
On the date scheduled for you, you pulled up to the JYP building and parked in the garage. It turned out that the company had closed off their downstairs public café for a few hours per Sana’s request to give the two of you some privacy. When you walked in, you saw Sana sitting and leaning back at a booth in the corner away from the cashier stand, scrolling on her phone to pass time waiting for you to arrive. She was dressed rather comfortably wearing an pink oversized knit sweater adorning her arms. Underneath, you could see she was wearing a black top, its thin straps hanging on to her exposed shoulders. You remember thinking that even dressed down, she was jaw-dropping.You had to admit, you were a bit nervous being alone with her for the first time, but you steeled your resolve and made your way to the booth. As you approached, you remembered the feeling you got when she looked up and flashed you a smile. Even to this day, you’d never forgotten the look she gave you when she beckoned you to come join her, placing her phone down and once again giving you her full attention.
The two of you exchanged pleasantries and started up some small talk. She told you that she was overjoyed to see the end results of the shoot, and that she felt like you had made her look especially pretty that day. Thinking quickly on your feet, you smiled and countered that you really didn’t do anything, and that her visuals came to light all on her own. You even went ahead and thanked her, going so far as to say that it was one of the easiest and most fun shoots you’d had the pleasure of doing. You then remarked that she was just as pretty today without all the fancy clothes as she was when you last saw her. That compliment seemed to do it as she giggled and playfully hit your hand, replying that you didn’t look too bad yourself as she quickly eyed you. She then inquired about you for a bit, wanting to know a little bit more about the person behind the camera. 
As you started going through your backstory, she placed her elbows on the table between you, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on her hands. Between her arms, you could see the slightest hint of her cleavage peeking through. Though she wasn’t as endowed as some of the other members in her group, you remember thinking that what she had suited her quite well. In that moment, she was truly embodying the cutie-sexy persona that she had become famous for. Her eyes remained locked on yours as you spoke, sometimes nodding her head showing that she had a genuine interest in learning more about you. You eyes however were having slight troubles reciprocating. There were a couple of instances where you caught your gaze trailing downwards, but you swiftly corrected yourself hoping that she wouldn’t notice. It was your first time being alone with her 1-on-1 after all and you didn’t want to leave her with a bad impression, even though you couldn’t deny that you liked what you were seeing. 
Unbeknownst to you, she was doing everything with a purpose. She knew from the moment she leaned forward that she had you in the palm of her hand, but wanted to let you finish your story before moving ahead with her real plan. After you wrapped up, her hands dropped to the table as she hugged her arms, accentuating her bust even more as she leaned forward. Your eyes glanced downward one last time, but this time she made it known that she caught you red-handed, her beautiful smile growing even bigger. As you nervously tried to laugh it off, in a calm voice she told you something that you’d never forget for the rest of your life:
"So…I know you've probably worked with a lot of big time idols..." Sana said as she leaned forward, slowly sliding her hand across the table before placing it on top of yours. "...but have you ever fucked one before?" 
You silently gulped as your eyes trailed from her hand up to her eyes. The cute, bubbly idol known the world over was nowhere to be seen. In front of you now was a vixen, her eyes lidded as the corners of her lips curled into a devilish smile, her true intentions for this meetup clear as day. 
That day was the first of many more meetups to come. Some days she’d message you to come by her apartment, other times she’d say she’d go to yours. Either way, they all ended the same way: the two of you heaving for air next to each other after another lust-filled night. It was primal the way the two of you would go at one another. From the second the two of you got your hands on each other, it was like nothing could ever tear the two of you apart. She was almost insatiable in the way she would be all over you, making you feel each and every bit of her entire being. Clearly, whatever you did seemed to check all the boxes for her as she kept coming back for more. What started off as a call maybe once a week quickly evolved into one every few days. You weren’t one to complain though. She was arguably one of the most attractive idols in the entire industry, so you made sure to make the time whenever she wanted it. Fast-forward a couple of months later, and today was another one of those times.
-----
A couple of hours passed and after finishing your work for the day and rushing back home, you were now in the elevator on the way up to your apartment. Given your resumé, you did quite well for yourself, getting a nice top-floor apartment in a secluded corner of the building away from the potential prying eyes of neighbors. You input the code to your door, the same code you had given to Sana a few weeks prior since she frequented your place so much over the last few months. You walked inside and kicked off your shoes before making your way into your living room. Normally when you knew Sana would be over, she would be waiting for you on the couch watching whatever drama she was into at the time, but this time she was nowhere to be seen. You looked around in confusion before tentatively calling out to her.
“Sana…? You here?”
“Mhm!” you heard echo out from your bedroom door. “Just freshening up a bit. Wait for me out in the living room, ok?”
You shouted back your acknowledgement and plopped yourself down on your sofa. You'd had a pretty long day at work and were ready to unwind, so you figured a few more minutes of waiting wouldn't hurt anybody. You whipped out your phone and began scrolling. A few minutes turned into 10 and you started to get impatient. Just as you tossed your phone aside and were about to get up to go check on her, your bedroom door opened, but you still couldn't see Sana. What happened next froze you in place.
Slowly, Sana emerged from your bedroom. It was night time and the lighting was a bit dim, but through it you could still see her entire figure. Her hand was raised above her head, caressing one side of the door frame as she leaned on the other, stepping forward a bit before stopping and crossing her legs. The light from the living room illuminated her body in all the right ways, letting you see all that she had to offer. She was almost fully nude, only wearing a pair of black heels and a matching pair of black lingerie stockings that went up to her thighs. Your eyes trailed upwards as you continued to take in the sight. Her pussy was clean-shaven, just the way you liked it. Her midriff was toned but not muscular and her hips were wide, perfect to be grabbed on to. The breasts you struggled to look away from all those months ago during your first 1-on-1 meeting were now being proudly displayed before you. They were supple and were the ideal size for her frame. She had done her flowing brown hair in a simple manner, the curls of the ends framing her chest nicely. Her eyes told you everything else you needed to know about how this night was about to go. They were the same eyes she gave you before your first time together.
“Took you long enough.” Sana remarked with a hint of playfulness. She turned around to give you a look at her petite ass before looking over her shoulder. “Come here.”
You were caught in a trance as you took in everything that just happened. Sana smiled to herself knowing the power her and her body had over you before walking back into your bedroom. Without thinking, you slowly rose from the sofa and followed her inside. The lights were dimmed in your room as well, but it was just enough to set the mood. She was standing at the edge of your bed, gazing back at you with her eyes brimming with lust. As you walked over you discarded your top, exposing your chest to her. You weren't as muscular as a bodybuilder, but you were no slouch either. You took pride in the way you took care of yourself, and the look on Sana’s face as she took in your body told you that the work you had put in was worth it. Both of your eyes were feasting on each other as you made your way over to her, and the excitement the two of you shared was palpable. You stopped in front of her as she raised her arms, placing them on your shoulders while you held on to her waist. With devilish grins and one last look into each other's eyes, the stage was set for what would undoubtedly be yet another incredible night.
She tilted her chin up, closing her eyes as you leaned down to meet her halfway. Electricity surged through your veins as your lips met in spectacular fashion. Every kiss with Sana was like the first time all over again. Her lips were tender, with a tinge of sweetness emanating from the lip gloss she knew you loved the taste of. She softly moaned into your mouth as your hands began trailing her sides, feeling her and lightly massaging her curves. Her arms hooked themselves around your neck, pulling you in deeper as if to tell you that there was no escaping her now, not that you would have wanted to anyways. Your tongues soon joined the fray, weaving themselves together in a back and forth battle for dominance. Slowly she began to acquiesce, conceding to your victory over her mouth. She sank backwards as you gently guided her to lay on the edge of the bed, your faces never once parting.
You could feel that the tension building up down below was nearing an all-time high, so you decided that it was time to kick things up a notch. You pulled away from her lips leaving her breathless as you stood upright, quickly unbuckling your pants and kicking them off. Sana meanwhile looked up to you with the same insatiable grin you had grown accustomed to, taking her hands and slowly massaging each of her boobs. Her eyes then locked on to your cock, standing proudly just above her face as she bit her bottom lip in anticipation. If there was one thing you had learned during your times with the sexual vixen lying perpendicularly beneath you, it was that touch meant everything to her. 
She knew how to use her touch to bring about the perfect amount of tension in whatever she did. With her lidded eyes now locked on yours, she gently wrapped one of her hands around the base of your cock, guiding it down to her face before sticking her tongue out and gliding along your underside from the base to your tip. When she got there, she tilted you down a bit further and planted a tender kiss on the most sensitive part of your head. You hissed out as your face contorted in pleasure, trying your best to prevent your knees from buckling. Sana looked back up at you with a smug look, again feeling like she knew how to hit all of the right buttons. Wanting to take things a step further, she guided your tip down and took you inside her mouth. Her lips wrapped around your head and she swirled her tongue, moaning as she enjoyed the taste of your precum while also sending vibrations straight to your core.
Not only did Sana like to touch, she liked to be touched. As she got to work tilting her face to the side to take more of you in, you cradled the top of her head to support her, softly petting her as you hummed out in pleasure. Your other hand grabbed a handful of one of her boobs and massaged it. You coyly pinch one of her nipples, sending a jolt throughout her body, and getting a slight yelp of enjoyment out of her. She kicked off her heels and brought her knees up to the bed. Your hand then moved from her breast and caressed the inside of her thigh, lightly teasing her as it made its way up her leg. When you got up to her pussy, your fingers traced her lips sending shivers up her body. She closed her eyes and moaned out once again, reveling in your touch as she began sucking in earnest. You looked down to your fingers, parting her lips and seeing that she was quickly growing wet from pure arousal. Slowly, you insert one finger before withdrawing and repeating, getting a little more in each time. Her velvety walls fit snugly around your finger, just as tight as every other time you'd gotten the chance to be inside her. Your thumb massaged her in small circles outside as a second finger entered her. 
“Mmmmmm yes…” Sana moaned out as she briefly pulled her mouth away from your cock. You kept a slow, steady pace in fingering her as she began lifting her hips from the bed to meet you. She tilted her head up and arched her back, voicing her pleasure as she jerked you off. She wasn't away from you for too long as she then dove right back in, swirling her tongue along your length before taking you in once more. She delicately bobbed back and forth around your tip, breath-filled moans escaping her lips each time she pulled her head back. Her other arm wrapped itself across her chest, pushing up both of her tits. You would have been perfectly content with just all of this foreplay with one of the most beautiful and sought after women on the planet, but you both knew that this wasn't the only reason she had come by tonight.
"Isn't it about time for you to be a gentleman?" Sana asked of you, teasing your lack of oral reciprocation. You smirked, knowing exactly what the bubbly girl desired of you.
"Hmmm, well, I can't let you shave yourself for me and then not reward it. That would be bad manners." You replied, as you readied yourself to  reposition your entire frame to fit in between her legs. Sana took this time to crawl further into the bed, setting her head a little upright, leaning against the headrest of the bed. You moved next to the bed towards the end, as you got on, crawling towards her with her legs spread open, inviting you, she closed her lingerie-covered legs in your face. This took you by surprise, as you were fully expecting to have had a mouthful of her delicious pussy by now, but instead you were met by her, admittedly beautiful, legs closed in your face and smirk on hers.
"Not so fast! You haven't earned it yet." Sana berated you, devilish grin staring down at you. She wasn't mad, but she was definitely enjoying teasing you. You weren't really sure what about, this time.
"Oh is that so? And why is that?" Was your reaction to her, trying to pry what you supposedly did wrong.
"I heard from insider intel, you were shooting shots for a different girl group today! I bet you fucked them too, while I was out here waiting for you!" She yelled back, the pitch and volume of her voice rising as she pointed a finger at you accusatory, accompanied with a big smile and bigger eyes. Your face turned deadpan, as her accusation finally started to make a semblance of sense. 
"All of the members were underage..." You told her, clearly not entertaining her guess. Her mouth now fell wider agape as she started to look at you in disbelief. 
"Don't tell me-" She started to reply, but you gave her no chance to even finish that sentence and interrupted her.
"Absolutely not, that's disgusting. Besides, Sana, you know you're the only client of mine I've ever fucked." You continued, pleading your innocence, absolutely not entertaining any sorts of accusations of illegal behaviors.
"Okay fine!" Sana relented. "But I still think we should do our usual game!" Her arms now crossed back over her body, as she looked away to her left with a pouty mouth.
"Ah, so that is why you spoiled me with the start of a blowjob just now, huh? You wanted to get a head start!" You accused her back, knowing damn well nothing ever comes free when it's from her. "Fine, but you're just going to lose like every other time."
Sana's face perked up as her smile grew bigger, facing you head on once more. You both sat upright, facing each other. Sana spread her legs with her knees pointed towards the roof, as you slid yours under hers, bringing your cock closer to her pussy, but leaving some distance in between. This game the two of you played was simple. You and Sana faced each other, and you had to finger Sana whilst she jerked you off. First one to cum, loses. Loser has to give in to the winner's demands.
You both looked into each other's eyes intensely, placing your hand in front of her dripping pussy, as she placed hers on top of your stiff cock. Without any kind of start sign, it was Sana that started off the competition, spitting onto your dick, making sure it stayed wet while she started off with a high tempo. You were expecting some kind of countdown, but you wouldn't lose from this. You took a different approach from Sana, and started off with only your thumb on her pussy, rubbing in circles on and around her clit, slowly. You used the rest of your fingers to press down onto her skin above her vagina, adding some pain and pressure to her pleasure. You were still holding on easily, but you'd already figured out Sana's weak spots. Her moans were giving her away, and you were clearly winning this race. She decided to up her commitment, using her other hand as well now, gripping it tightly around the base of your cock, putting firm, constant pressure while having her other hand twist and turn smoothly around the head of your dick. 
If she was using two hands, so would you. Your other hand joined the fray, slowly inserting your index finger into her slit, pulling it out, inserting your middle finger into her slit, and following up with inserting both at the same time. Her legs started to tremble against yours, and you could tell this race was in the bag. You were enjoying the feeling of her soft, velvety hands gliding up and down your shaft, but you could enjoy so much more if you endured. You kept the pace of your inserted fingers slow, curling your fingers inside of her, touching all of her insides slowly, while having picked up the pace with your thumb, going as fast as you could, rubbing back and forth in between her lips.
"I can feel it Sana, you're going to lose!" You gloated, sure of your victory.
"Shut up!" She sneered back, not having given up yet. Her actions confirmed this, as she clearly broke the rules of the game, and pulled her lower body away, to dive right into your cock. Her lower body slid backwards, her legs straightening as she was forced to do a split with her legs, just to fit on the bed, her legs split spread against the base of the headrest. Her upper body went down, her mouth plunging around your cock as your hands were now left Sana-less. One of her hands was holding all her hair to the side, and the other was still tightening the base of your cock as she tried making her way down.
"Oh, I don't think so!" You yelled back, not accepting defeat so easily. You leaned your right arm over her back, making use of the fact her ass was still so close thanks to her forced split, and started fingering her from the back.
"If you want to cheat so bad, you can choke on my cock while you lose!" You continued, now placing your left hand on the back of Sana's head, holding her down on top of you and pushing her to your base as far as you could. "Hrrkkk?!" was one of the more understandable sounds she made, as her moans were mixed with gags. Her warm spit was dribbling down from her mouth onto your balls, as she forced her tongue out against the base of your cock in an attempt to not gag as much. Her both hands had started digging into your thighs, but not in an attempt for you to release her. She was letting you force her, there was no intention to escape, as her conviction to win must have taken over. Her nails were firmly planted in your skin, sure to leave marks. No, she wasn't pushing you away, she was holding herself down as well. Her face revealed her true thoughts however, her eyebrows worriedly coming together in between her eyes, which were rolling back into the back of her head. Please cum fast, or have your dick grow small, were the two thoughts repeatedly rushing through her head, a place already being pierced by your cock. It didn't take long for the sensation of your fingers going wild inside her and your cock bulging in her throat to finally make her submit though. You felt the warm liquids of her squirt leak onto your hand and shoot against your headrest, as her mouth tightened on your member and her legs started to shake violently, signaling your victory, as you finally let her head go and come back up for air.
"Looks like I win. Again!" You relished, as Sana's make up had started running a little from her cheating in the game, now looking directly back at your face, a pouty expression painted on her visage.
"I wouldn't keep fucking you if you couldn't win, you know." She scoffed. She was clearly upset with her loss after pulling out all the stops. She kept looking at you, with puffed cheeks and a furrowed brow.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." You replied, your hands up in the air in an apologetic manner. "You got close to winning, I'll admit." This made Sana's pouty face lighten up, and you can tell she gained a sense of determination to turn close to winning into a decisive victory, next time you play your game. You can't help but wonder what new cheats and tricks she'll have up her sleeve.
"I let you win! You're lucky I like it when you tell me what to do! But a deal is a deal. What would you like this time?" She said as she regained her composure, her doe eyes staring into your soul, as her split laid legs turned into her holding her knees in front her body, pulled close to her torso with one arm as her other hand was swiping hair out of her face, which was now tilted sideways. Despite the black tears rolling down her cheeks, she somehow managed to still look cute in this erotic atmosphere.
"Let's see... You seemed pretty hell bent on sucking my dick just now. I'd like to continue that!" You decided after deliberating it shortly.
"Huuuuuuuh? Then, what about me?" Sana replied, back to pouting now. She agreed to the rules of the game, but clearly still had plans to satisfy her own needs first. This didn't come as a shocker to you. Ever since you started fucking Sana, you've known her to be insatiable. No amount of fucking could ever be enough for her.
"I'll eat your pretty little pussy out first if I get to do what I want afterwards?" You replied, having that one prepared, knowing exactly how she would react. Nothing was ever free with Sana, and this relationship was as casual as it was transactional.
"See, I knew you'd pick something fun! Sure, I'm game!" She replied gleefully, laying her hand on your arm, as if to commend you. Sana took a deep breath, eyes closed, and leaned back into the bed, lying on her back as you took the hint to move backwards and create space for her. You were back on the bed where you started, Sana laying in front of you as her knees were in the air, closing the path forward.
This time however, it only took the slightest touch of your fingers against her stocking covered calves to move open. She allowed you in between her legs, as you laid your head down before her pussy. You took in her smell as you planted a soft kiss on her entrance. It was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but think you'd never thought you'd fall in love with the smell of somebody's vagina until you got close to Sana's. She let out a soft chuckle as your lips first touched, burying her hands in your hair. You were off to a good start. Your tongue slithered from left to right, up to down, hitting all the weak spots she had. If the fact that her hands were now grasping onto your hair or her moans were any indication, you were doing good. She was still sensitive from cumming just now, and you knew just how to abuse that. 
You pulled back, creating some distance from her pussy and you, only to spit on it, causing Sana to yelp from surprise. You didn't give her very much time to be confused, as you jammed your still wet index and middle finger into her slit as far her body would allow. Her back arched against the bed, supported by her head falling into the mattrass, as she moaned out a loud enough "fuck" you thought it'd be impossible for any neighbors you had to have not heard that. You went back to your tongue play, slowly licking every inch of her pussy, whilst your fingers were pounding away furiously at her inner walls. The rhythmic dissonance soon proved too much for Sana, as her thighs squeezed tightly against the sides of your head, trembling like you were in the midst of an earthquake, before letting up with the rest of her body, falling limp in the bed. Now my fun begins, you thought to yourself, feeling the same kind of happiness an experienced craftsman feels after a job well done.
Sana laid there, heaving, eyes closed, surely savoring the feeling. You didn't let up though, and felt you deserved what was about to happen next. As you were getting off the bed readying your next move, Sana opened her eyes, looking for you next to her on the bed but not finding you.
"Alright, lie down, it's my turn." She pushed out in between the breaths in a slightly sultry tone.
"Lie down?" You asked, already standing next to the bed, before reaching both your arms under the girl, and flipping her body a quarter circle on the bed. You laid her down again on her back, in a way which made sure her head was hanging off of the edge of the bed close to you. "I have a better idea."
"Oh..." She exhaled, her tone now fully sultry with a hint of hungriness in it as her eyes locked onto her target. She was ready to devour what you presented her, biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" She asked, playing innocent.
"Open your mouth." You commanded, and she obediently followed. Her mouth opened as wide as she could, and even took the courtesy to stick her tongue out for you. "Good girl" were the next words out of your mouth, and coincidentally, also the last discernable words you were going to make before cumming. She seemed to like being called a good girl, but you wouldn't give her a chance to confirm it audibly. You fired your cock into her mouth, clearly still frustrated from her starting a blowjob twice this evening with no intention to finish them. You managed to slide your dick about halfway into her mouth, before stopping and holding it there. You thought to yourself, let's give her a chance to prove she actually is a good girl. And sure enough, she picked what you were putting down, and started moving her head away from your cock and back halfway over it, trying her best to service you. Although the attempt was sweet, this wouldn't make good for her cheating. You leaned your body forwards, letting both your hands fall onto her exposed tits, grabbing a handful with each.
She yelped a muffled "hnngh" as you clutched her chest tightly, before forcing rhythmic gagging sounds out of her small body. Playtime was over, and you started pounding her throat, forcefully shoving your cock all the way down to its base inside of her mouth. Her eyes shot wide open, as you towered above her, matching her gagging moans with your own delighted moans. Sana loved the sound of you enjoying yourself, and couldn't resist the temptation herself any longer. Despite her entire consciousness was focused on not choking on your dick, her hands move on their own as they found their way to her pussy once again, rubbing her clit with the same rhythm as you were fucking her face.
Spit was drooling from her mouth onto your balls, and you felt the urge to cum near. You decided to pound all the way down her throat one last time, making the dent your dick made on the inside of her neck clearly visible, holding it there for a second or two before pulling out. Your cock was now hanging above Sana's face as she gazed upon it with hungry, obsessed eyes as her spit, tears and mascara were mixing on her cheeks. You release her tits, giving them one last squeeze before you start to jerk yourself off to completion.
"Stop!" Sana screamed at you furiously. "I want to finish you off!" She continued, as her right hand left her pussy, leaving her left hand there alone. She grasped your spit covered cock tightly and wasted no time in rapidly stroking your cock up and down and up and down again.
"Im gonna fucking cum." Is what you wanted to say, but your moans and enjoyment made sure to slur that speech  to something barely understandable. Sana understood however, as she presented her face, ready to accept your load onto it. You shot out string after string of cum onto her lips, her cheeks, some in her mouth, until everything was either covered in you, or mixed with her mascara, spit and tears. The moment that first drop hit her cheek sent Sana over the edge as well, causing her third orgasm of the night. She wasn't planning on opening her mouth and swallowing your cum, but she couldn't stop herself from moaning, leading to some of it making it in either way. She wasn't about to complain though, and gulped down happily. 
You almost fell to your knees after this, but somehow managed to find the strength to stay standing. You had to. Sana hadn't let you cum on her face before, so you had to do everything you could to remember this moment. Suddenly you had an idea. 
"Wait here!" You screamed before darting off out of the room. It took you less than ten seconds to return, and with you a polaroid camera. "I know you don't like pictures because they could leak. So I brought this!" Sana looked at you, her head resting on the bed, trying her best to not let any cum drop off of her.
"A polaroid camera? Hahaha! Okay, sure. But only one picture this time." She replied in a bubbly tone. You were slightly surprised by her agreement, but not about to spoil the chance. You positioned yourself whatever way you knew best, and snapped a picture of the defiled idol's cum covered face. You smiled happily at the printed out piece of film paper, as Sana saw your look in the corner of her eyes.
"Does my cum covered face make you that happy? Maybe I should let you do it a little more often... Or maybe I shouldn't if you will always forget to bring me a towel when you're done." She teased you, the cute and bubbly tone ever present in her voice.
"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, before storing your picture in a drawer in your nightstand rapidly, dashing out and returning to the girl with a towel.
"That's more like it." She replied before letting out that cute little laugh of hers and wiping her face clean.
-----
You were now laying in your bed with your arm around Sana, herself snuggling up next to you. As per usual, she never liked to leave right away, opting instead to unwind for a little while longer. You were watching some TV while Sana scrolled through her phone. After some time, you lowered the volume and patted her back, getting her attention.
“Hey, Sana?”
She tilted her head, placing her chin on your chest and looking up at you with her doe-like eyes. 
“About what you said earlier…I meant what I said.” you said slowly.
She crooked her head to the side and furled her brow, confused as to what you were referring to.
“I really haven’t been with any of my other clients. Truth be told, I haven’t even thought about it.” 
Sana turned her body to sit up. She thought to herself for a second before letting out a deep breath. “Good. And you better not think about it in the future either. Don’t forget, you are mine.” she said in a serious tone.
This got your attention. When you think back to what the two of you had going for the last few months, you believed it to be casual at best. As such, seeing Sana getting worked up over the thought of you being with other idols struck you as odd. Your confusion must have been plastered across your face, since just as you were about to push the topic further, Sana lifted her finger and placed it on your lips, shushing you.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t mean it like that.” Sana retracted her hand and sat up fully, crossing her legs as you sat up to join her. “What I meant was, I like being able to call you whenever I’m free. I don’t want you getting around to the point where I can’t reach you whenever I want to. Also, you satisfy my needs perfectly so I’m having a ton of fun. You can call me selfish, but I just don’t want to ruin this by making it any more complicated than it is. Besides, you’re having fun too, right?”
You nod your head in agreement, but then another thought strikes you. “So what then? You’re just free to do whatever you want, meanwhile I’m not allowed to be with anyone else? Sana, that’s hardly fair.” you huff as you cross your arms.
Sana recoils a bit at this and looks down at her lap. You mentally facepalm, already regretting what you had just said and wishing you could take it back. You reach out a hand placing it on her thigh. “Wait…I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.” Sana brings her knees up, hugging them close to her chest as she looks back up at you, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 
“...is this not enough for you?” she says, her voice almost breaking. She quickly sinks her head down to her knees, hiding her face from your view. You’re quick to move, scooting yourself beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“Yes! Of course it is, Sana. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I really am grateful for what we have going now, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. You are, Sana. You really are. If you don’t want me sleeping with other girls, I won’t.” you affirm as you rub her arm, hoping to console her.
“Do you mean that? You won’t sleep with anyone else if I say so?” you hear her squeak out.
“If it means still getting to sleep with you, I'll do it.” you respond, hugging her even tighter. You lean down and kiss the top of her head. After a few seconds more of holding her there, you notice her grip on her knees begin to loosen.
“Hehehe, wow...Just like that, huh?” You tilt your head down towards Sana in bewilderment. It wasn’t until you took a pause and really looked that you realized she wasn't crying at all; rather, she was giggling.
“Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me right now?!” You nudge her away from you as she rolls onto her side, still holding onto her knees as she finally bursts out in laughter. You scoot back away and actually facepalm this time. 
“Ahhh I wish I could have seen your face. You must really like me that much, don’t you?” she teases.
You turn to look at her with a defeated expression, getting another laugh out of her. “I can’t believe you…” you sigh before letting out a chuckle, seeing the humor in the situation she put you in yourself. Sana wipes her happy tears from her face before collecting herself and sitting upright next to you.
“Listen, of course you can sleep with other girls, it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. I just don’t want to see you whoring around the entire k-pop industry now that you’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like. But, I’ll tell you what! You’ve been good to me these last few months. Like, really good. I think I know a way I can return the favor…”. You tilt your head once more, egging her on to continue her thought. “I really did like the work you did for my solo photo book. Is there anyone else over at JYP that you’ve always wanted to work with? I know I’m the first from my company to shoot with you, but I think the least I can do is introduce you to another idol, maybe find you some more work in the future?”
In truth, you'd hoped that your work with Sana would lead to more opportunities for your career, but you hadn't considered who you'd want to work with next if given the choice. "Oh, that would actually be very nice, Sana. Do you have any suggestions?"
Sana contemplates for a moment. "Well...I could introduce you to anyone really. How about someone else in Twice? I'm pretty sure any of my members would be happy to shoot with you?"
You pause and take a second to think, weighing out your options. Of all the idols at her company you had to admit that you would have loved to work with any of them, but there was one name that came to mind. You figured now was as good a time as any to shoot your shot.
“Well…I think I’d like to meet Mina if that’s cool with you…?”
Sana’s face lights up immediately. “Ah, of course! I’ll set up a meeting later this week. Let me message her right now to see when she’s free. Oh, this is gonna be so great!” She then giddily turns to reach for her phone and starts texting. 
You sit there dumbfounded, a huge smile on your face as you start to get excited at the thought of the impact this shoot could have on your career. Mina was famous for her stunning beauty, and you couldn't help but to already start firing off ideas in your head on how to capture her ethereal qualities. You've always admired her gorgeous visuals, and were chomping at the bit to meet her in person. Meanwhile, Sana silently chuckled to herself as she typed away. She knew full well that Mina would be the perfect person to introduce you to for "other" reasons, reasons you would soon find out.
______________________________________________________________ A/N: This is a collaborative work between 2 authors who share an immense love for Twice! Thank you all for taking the time to read our fantasy. Any and all feedback is welcome, so please feel free to leave a comment or shoot us a message sharing your thoughts! This is only the start of a long journey between Sana and Y/N, and who knows? Maybe a few other members may be making an appearance ;)
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screampied · 3 hours
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❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru
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☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.
wc. 6.6k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.
➤ sd!gojo masterlist.
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“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.
“are you—”
“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”
with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”
“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”
you were quite literally living in luxury. .
as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.
despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.
just for you and no one else.
but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.
you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.
“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.
‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.
he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”
“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.
his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.
it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.
if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”
“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”
“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.
he remembered?
you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .
you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”
with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”
“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”
damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.
you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.
satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”
famous last words. .
because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.
he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.
not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.
you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.
satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.
“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.
you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”
“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.
fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.
tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.
he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.
“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.
both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.
his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.
at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.
satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.
“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.
you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.
satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”
“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”
“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.
your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.
with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.
as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.
there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .
that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.
“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.
“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.
you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”
“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.
it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.
satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”
as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”
“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.
satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.
he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.
“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.
the taste — it’s candied sweet.
the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”
satoru was still very much hard though—very.
you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.
he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.
but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.
“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”
“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.
even if it didn’t last that long,
the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.
satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.
“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.
for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.
satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”
“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.
with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”
“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.
satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”
and he did.
one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.
you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.
his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.
god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.
he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.
his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.
“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”
he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.
“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.
“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,
satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.
“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.
one, two, three . .
he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.
“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”
moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.
he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.
he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.
you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.
“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.
once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”
“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.
that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,
that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.
you were fucked, literally. .
“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.
as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.
every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.
‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.
it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.
the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.
you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’
every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.
satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.
“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.
he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”
“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”
“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.
he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.
as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.
satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”
a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.
satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.
“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”
as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.
“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”
and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.
you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.
you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.
satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.
“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”
“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.
you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.
he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”
“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”
“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.
satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.
“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.
he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.
but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.
he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”
his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .
you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.
satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.
the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.
oh, he’s whipped.
his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”
the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.
you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.
thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.
it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .
satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.
he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.
“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.
a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.
“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.
you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.
holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”
satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.
in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.
satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.
he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.
his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.
he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.
like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.
each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.
the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .
his favorite,
he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.
a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.
“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.
he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.
but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.
he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.
“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.
satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.
tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.
it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.
as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.
his heart was pounding,
telling him to say it - just say it.
but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.
“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.
you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.
the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.
“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”
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thaatdigitaldiary · 2 days
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passenger princess
paige bueckers x fem reader
disclaimer!! i don’t usually write fics, i’m better at writing educationally (lame) but me & my friends wanted me to try something out of my comfort zone so enjoy. criticism is welcome, but be kind!
this is based off of the picture i posted of paige earlier so that’s the context (also on the banner)
tags: @rosemariiaa & @patscorner for encouraging me to do this elohel kisses to yall
enjoy 🤫
it was 10:47 am. the ac blasting throughtout your studio apartment. you tossed and turned in your bed, groaning from the lack of sleep the night before, caused by a stressful day of work yesterday, completely draining you. you were in a slump to say the least, and the only person who could help cheer you up, was your girlfriend. as you picked up your phone, it vibrated suddenly with a notification popping up, “p 💓” it read, and you opened the message.
it was a picture of her and a brand new car, a red cadillac with a black interior. after the picture comes through, another message follows.
“surprise?” it reads, and you’re shocked, not only about the fact that your girlfriend impulsively bought a new car, but how undeniably beautiful she looked.
her beautiful blonde hair, roots slowly coming through, but she made them look so good. she was clad in a gray sweatshirt despite this summer heat, and those stupid, yet adorable 2024 sunglasses you gave her for new years last year perched on her head.
as you go to text her back, you hear a knock at your front door. you fix your hair and throw your robe on, and go to answer it, while a text that just came through your phone appears.
“i’m outside”
“hi baby.” she says standing in front of you, grinning like a kid who just entered a candy store, jingling her new keys.
“paige.” you say sternly, slighting smirking at the fact that she was so excited to show you her new car. despite the fact that you and her have been dating since your sophomore year of college, she still made you nervous.
from her tall, lean figure, to her beautiful eyes that wander everytime you two see each other. she starts talking, but you can’t stop looking at her.
“baby.” she says, laughing a little. you were staring, and hadn’t heard a word she said to you.
“im sorry, did you say something?” you say, chuckling nervously, feeling embarrassed, but paige never found it embarrassing, she found it cute, matter of fact she loved it.
“i said did you wanna come ride wimmie? you gotta be the first in this car and you know that.” she tells you, leaning on your doorframe, taking you in. she looked you up and down and bit her lip, admiring you and your figure.
“of course p, lemme get dressed and fix my hair, i shouldn’t be too long.” you say sweetly, smiling at her and kissing her on the cheek.
she goes to sit on your couch, manspreading per usual, watching you walk away and into your room to find something to wear.
you rummage through your closet to find something comfortable but cute to wear, just in case you two make any stops, which you knew you would.
you do some finishing touches on your hair, leaving it down, just how paige liked it.
you walk out of your room, having a slight sway to your hips as you walk, which drove paige insane. you wore jean shorts and a black tube top, with your “p” necklace sparkling around your neck.
“jesus ma.” she says, whistling while her eyes travel all over your figure.
“what? should i change?” you asked with concern, worried you were overdressed.
“fuck no, you look beautiful, especially repping me like that,” she says, referring to the necklace with her initial on it, as she rubs her hands together and bites her lip, making you laugh.
“we can go wherever you want to mama, i filled the tank right after i left the dealership.” she grabs her lanyard with her keys attached to it out of her sweatpants pocket, and goes to open the front door for you.
“hm, there’s a new spot not too far from here, they got real good breakfast food, me and jana went the other day.”
“anything for you ma.” she tells you, sneaking a kiss in as you approach her car.
“okay this is beautiful p, and shiny as hell jesus,” you say, describing the darkish red colored car your girlfriend just impulsively bought.
“it needs a beautiful girl to sit in it y’know,” and you roll your eyes at her corniness, but you secretly love it. she opens the door for you and closes it behind you, and walks to the driver’s seat.
about 10 minutes pass and you two are almost at your destination. paige hooked up her bluetooth to her car as soon as she got it, you both listening to her playlist and singing along with the windows down and the wind blowing in your faces.
paige watched as your hair flowed in the wind, your smile so beautiful, and all she could think about what was how lucky she was, getting to see you whenever she wanted, hold you, kiss you, and be there for you, all the time.
she rested her hand on your thigh, driving with one hand, and smiling.
“baby,” you said softly.
“yeah ma?”
“i love you.”
“i love you more than anything ma, yk that.”
you two made it to the restaurant, paige disconnecting her phone from the aux, and gets out to open the door for you.
you could really get use to this new car smell, and being paige’s passenger princess for a long, long time.
I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! this might be a one time thing as i could never be too consistent but lemme know any feedback and i love you guys! 🙂‍↕️
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madaqueue · 1 day
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TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH
the weight that lies in a pinky promise
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pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader
themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)
a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic
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Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.
He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.
You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.
And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.
The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.
“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.
“Hi.”
When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.
(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)
(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)
Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.
“Did that hurt?”
Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”
“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”
And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”
Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.
You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.
Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.
A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.
You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).
When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.
“Can I make it better?”
It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.
So, you nod.
Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.
“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”
“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.
“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”
Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.
“I’m Suguru, by the way.”
He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.
A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.
“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.
“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”
Expectant eyes meet yours.
“Promise me I’ll see you again?”
This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.
“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.
Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”
He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.
It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.
And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.
It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.
“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.
From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.
“Yes.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.
Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.
“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.
And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.
“Yes.”
Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.
“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”
The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.
Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.
It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.
It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.
You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.
“Are you okay?”
Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.
“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”
Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.
With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”
He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.
“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.
Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.
Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.
Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.
The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.
Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.
It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.
You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.
The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.
You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.
You miss when he was warm.
Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?
He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.
You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.
“Suguru?”
His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.
“Are you okay?”
He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).
“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.
You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.
Would you promise?
On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.
He can’t.
When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.
Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.
Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.
“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”
As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.
You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.
(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)
Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.
When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.
You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.
That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.
Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.
“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.
His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”
“You’re really strong, y’know that?”
Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”
Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.
“Suguru?”
You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.
“Yeah?”
His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.
Three breaths in, three breaths out.
“I love you.”
You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”
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toadtoru · 1 day
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GOOD LUCK BABE
when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night / with your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife / and when you think about me, all of those years ago / you're standing face to face with "i told you so"
pairing: shoko x fem!reader contents: angst, angst, angst, no curses au, reader is rich, reader is addressed with she/her pronouns, childhood friends to ???, no-curse au, some gojo x reader, alcohol consumption, smoking and weed wordcount: 4k
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“Do you like him?”
You’re twenty-one the second time Shoko asks you this question. You’re out on the balcony, attempting to ignore the loud yelling and music being blasted from the small apartment behind you. You lean over the railing, looking down at the people below you. Shoko takes another drag of her cigarette. She glances back at the closed door behind you. She can easily catch the white blob of hair amongst the partygoers. 
“Of course I do! You’re all my best friends.” 
You both know that it’s not what Shoko means.
“Yeah, but do you like him?” Shoko repeats, and you pout when you realise that she’s not letting you off the hook. You send her a look while gently tapping your fingers against the railing. Shoko’s eyes follow the movement, trying not to glare at the diamond ring on your finger. 
You grew up different; Shoko knows that. Whereas she and Suguru grew up relatively normal, had parents who worked simple jobs and came home to cook dinner, you and Satoru were raised by maids and strict rules. She supposes this is the reason you’re so nonchalant about all this. Whereas Shoko as always had the choice, you never had. Still, it bothers her how willingly you let yourself be captured, how little you fight for the freedom to be your own person. She wishes she could shake you till you understood, but instead, she’s stuck here on this shitty balcony, hoping that you might answer her question truthfully for once. She takes another drag of her cigarette, inhaling deeply and hoping that you won’t notice how tense her shoulders are. 
“It doesn’t matter if I like him,” you say, shrugging. You glance over at Shoko, and something passes between you for a moment. Your eyes flicker to her lips, still wrapped around her cigarette. It’s barely a second before you’re making eye contact again. 
“I’m just happy my parents chose Gojo and not that asshole from Zenin Enterprises.” 
You’re twenty when you go to a bar for the first time. It’s your birthday, officially the last one to turn twenty out of the four of you. It’s the first time in six months that you managed to get together. After you graduated, Satoru immediately started working at his dad's company; you and Shoko started at separate universities; and Suguru… well, none of you really know what he’s doing. Shoko recalls him saying he has some kind of sales job that causes him to travel a lot. 
By this time, purple circles have settled under Shoko’s eyes, and cigarettes are a staple in her purse. In all honesty, she doesn’t want to be here. It’s a fancy place—more of a club than a bar, really. Satoru’s choice, of course. There’s no way that you picked this place. 
You look stunning. Dressed in a top and a mini skirt, you look both expensive and endlessly tempting. You’ve already drank some at your place, where you all started, and you’re pleasantly giggly, hanging on Satoru's arm. Shoko wishes you’d hang off her like that, but recently there’s been a weird divide between you. You’re hard to get a hold of. 
You catch her eyes and smile. “You look nice tonight, Sho,” you say, lips curling teasingly as you reach out to pull a piece of hair behind her ear. “Your hair has gotten longer,” you add with a hum. 
Shoko shrugs. Suguru and Satoru are talking about something that she’s not a part of, so she moves closer to you. “How have you been?” she asks casually, trying to act like she isn’t hanging off every word you say. 
“Come dance with me,” you reply, grabbing her hand and pulling her out on the dancefloor. Shoko follows you wordlessly. She’s never been much for dancing, but for you, she’ll make an exception. 
“I’m alright,” you say. “School is hard,” you add, and Shoko follows the way your body moves, easily falling into a rhythm with the music. She wonders why you couldn’t have this conversation at the bar, but in a way, she’s happy that she doesn’t have to share you with the boys for a while. Your fingers are intertwined as you both ignore everyone else on the crowded dance floor. It’s hot, and the music blasts from the speakers beside the DJ, all contributing to making Shoko feel dizzy. 
“What about you, Sho?” you ask, dancing closer. 
“School is hard,” she repeats after you, grinning when you roll your eyes. You dance for a little while longer, silence creating a distance between you. Shoko wonders why it’s like this all of a sudden. You used to always be close; the silence between you was never uncomfortable like this. 
“I miss you,” Shoko says. She doesn’t even know why she says it. These are the kinds of things Shoko feels in silence. She never shares them with other people. But for some reason, she can’t stand the thought of not being able to share it with you. You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. 
“I’m dating Satoru.” 
Cutting Shoko open with a scalpel would probably have hurt less. The music becomes white noise, the room feels small, and the air becomes hard to breathe. She looks towards the bar where Satoru’s talking with Suguru. As if on queue, Satoru looks up from his conversation to look at the two of you. He smiles at Shoko when their eyes meet. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. Bastard. It’s always him, isn’t it? 
“I need a cigarette,” Shoko mumbles, walking towards the smoking area of the club. 
“Sho,” you say, following her as she makes her way through the dancefloor towards the doors with the smoking sign. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you say, and Shoko shakes her head as she pushes the door open and exits onto a small rooftop. The air is chilly, and there are several people already there, smoking and talking. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat as Shoko lights her cigarette and takes a long drag. “Will you at least look at me?”
She does. Soft, kind brown eyes locked on you. You’ve always revelled in Shoko’s attention. It made you feel special to be deserving of it, for a person who’s usually nonchalant and seemingly careless, that you were interesting enough. Even when she would tease you and push your buttons, you liked it.
You don’t like it right now.
“Why?” Shoko asks. Your brows knit together. 
“Shoko, I’m sorry if you’re mad–”’
“No. Why him?” Shoko interrupts. She takes another drag before blowing the smoke off to the side. You frown. 
“You promised you’d stop smoking,” you say, and Shoko laughs. 
“Is it your parents?” she asks, stepping closer. Smoke fills your lungs as she blows some onto your face. You turn to the side, but she grabs your chin and makes you look at her. “Is it you? Do you like him?” She asks. You frown. 
“Yes,” you reply, though it’s half-hearted and soft. 
“Speak up,” Shoko says, but you don’t. Your brows are furrowed, and there’s a little pout on your lips. Your hands come to tug on her shirt as if you’re beckoning her to come closer, but she doesn’t, not even bothering to look down at where you’re holding onto her. 
She feels an awful desire to kiss you, to show you what liking—no, loving—someone really is. She doesn’t fight it when she leans in, pressing your lips together. This kiss is much different from any kiss you’ve shared before. It’s meaner, more desperate. As if Shoko is trying to put every word she won’t speak into this moment, lips moving against lips. Your fingers move from her shirt up to her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. 
Shoko tastes like smoke and the beer she took three sips off when you first arrived. It’s deprived; how good it all feels to let go. Then you part and you gasp for air for a few seconds before you step back, wiping your hands in your shirt and turning around, disappearing into the bar. 
You’re fifteen when you say the words that make Shoko take the first drag of a cigarette. You’re sitting on the floor in your room, watching some show that you begged her to see. Shoko can’t even remember which one it was, although it doesn’t matter all that much. You’re huddled close together, giggling whenever the main characters do something funny. Your eyes are on the screen, but Shoko can’t help but look at you. 
It’s dark out. She should’ve been home hours ago, but your parents aren’t home—they never are—and the maid left hours ago. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Sho?” you ask. Shoko blinks, turning to look at the TV again. A kiss scene is unfolding. Fairly innocent, she thinks. She looks back at you to find you already looking. Your faces are awfully close, only illuminated by the blue light from the show still going, though it’s all background noise at this point. 
“No,” Shoko replies bluntly. You smile, your cheeks heating up as you lean in closer. 
“Do you want to?” you ask. It’s innocent. You’re smiling, your eyes darting down to Shoko’s lips for a second before they’re back up. 
“I don’t know,” Shoko replies. Already at fourteen, she hates how she feels around you. There’s something disarming about you that makes Shoko lose all her cool and turn into a complete puddle of weird, awkward teenage mess. Her heart always seems to hammer in her chest, and her hands feel clammy. 
“We could try, you know,” you say. You’re so close now that Shoko can feel your breath on her lips, smell the fruit rolls you ate earlier. It’s so very you, so sweet. Blood roars in her ears, and she doesn’t say anything, afraid her voice might betray her. 
“For practice,” you add, and Shoko finds herself nodding along. For practice, sure. She ignores the gnawing feeling in her chest, the looming knowledge that she can never come back from this. Shoko has never been much interested in love or boys. She’s always opted for medical books and crime mysteries instead of chick flicks. Though with you, it’s always been different. You could rope her into watching The Notebook and Titanic as many times as you wanted if it meant Shoko got to spend time with you. 
“Is this okay?” you ask, placing your hand on Shoko’s cheek, and she nods again. “Yeah,” she replies, almost breathless. You’re so close now.
So so close. 
It’s innocent. There’s no tongue, no great big sparks. Yet Shoko feels electric. Your lips are soft. So soft. And despite how blunt you were just seconds ago, you feel shy now all of a sudden, pulling away with flushed cheeks and a sort of dazed look on your face. 
“Thank you,” is all you can think to say, and it makes Shoko snort at your reaction. This causes a giggle to be pulled from you as well, and you sit there for a while, just lingering in each other's presence, high on the experience of your first kiss together. It’s innocent, sweet. Shoko wishes she could bottle up the feelings you give her and save them from the rot she’s already feeling building up inside of her. 
She reaches for your cheek and pulls you in for a second kiss. You let her, getting braver this time. Your lips move against each other. It’s inexperienced and clumsy, but Shoko wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Then you whisper the god-forsaken words. 
“I wish you were a boy, Sho.” 
And Shoko feels the rot fester in her gut. 
“I should go,” she replies, stumbling out of your room and down the hall of your obscenely large house. She ignores your calls for her as she slips down through your kitchen.
She stops in her tracks when she notices the small packet on the counter. The maid must’ve left it, she thinks to herself as she picks it up and inspects it. Shoko and you have spied on her during enough smoke breaks to know. Two cigarettes left. She glances at the door. You haven’t followed her downstairs. She puts the box in her pocket and walks out your front door. 
How can two cigarettes hurt?
You’re twenty-three when you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. Shoko watches from the fourth row, right next to Nanami. You and Satoru stand in front of the altar. Suguru sits on the front row with Satoru’s family. You hadn’t asked Shoko to sit with yours. 
The vows are formal. Clinical, almost. As though someone else wrote them for you, as though neither you nor Satoru actually feel the things you say. Nonetheless, you look blinding in your dress, even more blinding as you walk down the aisle and lock eyes with Shoko. 
She smiles at you. Purple rings have become more prominent under her eyes during the past few months. She’s told you they’re from late-night cramming and studying, and while that’s not technically untrue, there's another reason why she sleeps so badly as well. You smile back, and Shoko feels the green little thorn in her stomach reach just a little deeper. 
“Why are you looking all gloomy?” 
It’s playful. There’s no ill intent behind it. Satoru, as always, pretends to be unaware of anything that might start an uncomfortable conversation, instead resorting to acting like a fool. Shoko sighs. 
“Fuck off,” she says, though there’s no edge in her tone. She can’t ever really hate Satoru. No one can. That’s what's so annoying about him. Satoru walks forward and joins Shoko on the balcony from the venue of your wedding afterparty. Shoko doesn’t know where you are. Probably somewhere entertaining your guests, pretending that this is the happiest night of your life. 
Satoru eyes the cigarette between Shoko’s fingers as she takes another drag. 
“I thought you were quitting.”
“School’s been stressful.” 
“Ah,” Satoru nods, resting his arms on the railing and looking out over the city. It’s a peaceful night. The sky is clear, though you can’t see the stars due to the light of the city. Shoko exhales. 
“Are you doing alright, Shoko? You seem distant,” Satoru asks, eyes trained on the view in front of them. Shoko hums. 
“I’m alright,” 
They stand like that for a while, neither of them saying anything. Shoko wonders if she should just tell Satoru everything. About how she’s in love with his wife and has been for years. How she wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and chasing dreams of you. You with your soft lips and pretty smile. You who never flinches away, you who remains the centre of Shoko’s world no matter how hard she tries to untangle herself from your web of love and praise.
She imagines it wouldn’t go down well. Even if Satoru has married you out of duty, she knows he still loves you. Maybe not as a wife, but as a companion. You’ve known each other for so long, known that you were promised to each other since you were mere children. 
“Ah, fuck, I better go save my wife.” 
The moment has passed. Shoko looks back towards the glass doors to the party. You’re stuck talking to some elders. Shoko doesn’t know who they are, but she assumes they’re from Gojo’s family. You glance towards the balcony. “Save me,” you mouth, and both Shoko and Satoru snort. 
“Duty calls,” he sings as he walks past Shoko. He looks back over his shoulder once. “Come back once you’ve finished that one, okay?”
You’re eighteen when you all huddle together on the floor in Suguru’s room, giggling and whispering about the joint that the boys somehow managed to secure. Suguru lights it and takes the first inhale. Satoru follows, cheeks immediately turning pink and a dopey smile settling on his lips as he passes it to Shoko. You watch Shoko curiously before she hands it to you. 
Carefully, you fold it between your two fingers, eyeing the little roll carefully. “How do I do it?” you ask, and Shoko snorts. Satoru is giggly already, lying down and putting his head in Suguru’s lap. Suguru looks mostly unaffected, yet he cracks a smile and pinches Satoru’s cheek. 
“You put it between your lips, and then you inhale. You gotta feel it all the way in your lungs,” Shoko explains. You try to do as she says, but when you exhale, barely any smoke comes out. Suguru chuckles. 
"Yeah, that was not an inhale,” he says, and you poke your tongue at him. Shoko moves closer to you, ignoring Suguru as she puts her hand on your thigh. 
“Try again,” she says, and you do, looking at her at the same time. Shoko smiles, and you choke, coughing out some as you feel tears prickling in your eyes. Shoko rubs a soothing hand along your thigh while Satoru laughs. You pat your chest, coughing furiously as tears run down your cheek and Shoko smiles at you. 
So cute. 
“C’mere,” she says, once your coughing has subsided. You pout at her, but move closer nevertheless, till you’re in her lap. The boys are quiet now, watching your exchange as Shoko puts a hand on your waist, taking the joint from your fingers with the other. 
“You ready?” she asks, and you nod wordlessly. Slowly, she inhales before leaning into you, blowing into your mouth. This time you inhale, puffing your chest out in a manner that makes Shoko grin. You exhale again, and Shoko pats your cheek rewardingly. 
“Good girl,” she mutters, and your jaw drops. Suguru coughs, and you can hear Satoru’s giggle increasing as you climb out of her lap and grab the joint again. Shoko smiles at you. The knowing kind that makes you want to bash your head into a wall. You ignore the heat in your cheeks as you peel your eyes away from her. 
“Okay, I can do it myself now, thank you,” you say, taking a big inhale. You hold it for a few seconds before exhaling again, white smoke leaving your lungs. 
“There you go,” Satoru says, flashing you his perfect white teeth. You frown and take another drag, for good measure, before Suguru takes the joint from you. 
“Woah, there,” he says, raising a brow at you. “This is your first time, right?”
“Yeah,” you reply, already feeling lightheaded. “So what?” 
“Might want to take it easy,” he says. You don't bother to reply, instead looking back at Shoko. She’s leaned back, resting on her elbows. She meets your gaze, tilting her head to the side. Taking you in. Examining you. You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, but you don’t break eye contact.
Then she nods at you. A tiny one, barely noticeable. You almost think you imagine it, if it isn’t for the teasing look in her eyes. 
An invitation. 
You don’t hesitate to take it, climbing over and promptly laying your head in her lap. Shoko laughs, but she lets you, adjusting herself so she can sit up and play with your hair. You hum, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around her. You feel light, pleasant. 
“Someone’s feeling touchy,” Shoko says, smiling as she watches your brows knit together. She brings a finger down, running it over the crease formed between your eyebrows, forcing you to relax. 
“You’re my best friend, Sho.” Your voice is airy. “I’m allowed to feel touchy.”
You’re twenty when you kiss Shoko for the second time before slipping inside the crowded bar again. Shoko waits a few minutes before she follows you back in. She can still feel your pillowy lips and taste the gloss you wear. She feels dizzy, almost, under the neon lights, but she’s unsure if it’s the alcohol and nicotine or just you. 
Her eyes land on the table where she saw Satoru and Suguru earlier. The white blob of hair is easy to spot; it always is. Even when you’re running your fingers through them. 
Ah. 
Even when you run your fingers through Satoru’s hair while you kiss him stupid. His hands are on your hips, pulling you in. She can’t see your face, only your back. In a way, she’s glad. It makes the whole ordeal much easier. 
“There you are.” 
Suguru moves towards her, smiling casually when she turns to look at him. 
“I assume she’s told you?” he muses, nodding his head towards the two of you. Suguru’s hands are in his pockets, and his hair is tied back. Shoko shrugs. 
“Yeah,” Shoko says. She looks at you again before turning back to Suguru. “How long have you known?” she asks, and Suguru scratches his neck and hums. 
“About a month,” he says. Shoko shifts from one foot to another and nods. A month. A month and you didn’t tell her. She scoffs. Suguru raises a brow. 
“Are you upset?”
“No,”
“Alright,” there’s a teasing edge to Suguru’s tone that tells her he doesn’t quite believe her. Shoko’s brows narrow, and she feels her fingers itching for another cigarette. 
She gives you a last glance before pulling Suguru out with her for another cigarette. If you wanna kiss boys in bars, then so be it. 
You’re twenty-six when Shoko opens her door in the middle of the night and finds you on her doorstep, completely drenched from the rain. 
“I’m afraid there’s something rotten inside of me,” you say, and if your eyes weren’t brimming with tears, Shoko might have blamed your wet cheeks on the rain and tried to shrug it off, but it feels impossible with the way you stand there with red rims around your eyes. “I’m afraid that there’s something wrong with me, and it’s only a matter of time before you all figure it out,” you repeat, almost gasping for air as if each word brings you physical pain to speak. 
And Shoko steps aside, because what else can she do. How could she turn you away when you’re all she’s ever wanted, all she’s ever loved. Yet none of you make another move to do anything else as Shoko stands with the closed door behind her and you stand in the middle of her living room, your soaked clothes dripping in a puddle underneath you. 
“What’s going on?” Shoko asks. Your lips are downturned and your brows are furrowed, and you look so miserable that it makes Shoko’s stomach churn. 
“I don’t love him.” 
A beat. 
Shoko stares. Your eyes are trained on the puddle beneath you. 
“You were right. It doesn’t feel right when I’m with him. He’s my best friend, but—”
“Why are you here?” Shoko interrupts. She rubs the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath. 
“Sho-” you stumble across the room, but Shoko places a hand up and you stop in your tracks. 
“Stay there,” she says, and you frown. 
“I’m sorry, okay. I should’ve listened to you,” you say, knowing that it won’t help anything but saying it anyway.
Shoko always thought she would feel satisfaction in this moment. Some sense of superiority. To be able to say “I told you so” with a smile dancing on her lips. That all of it—all of the rot and pain—would be worth it once you realised you were wrong. Instead, she just feels bitter. 
“Yeah. You should have.” 
She realises she’s wasted so much time. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And for what? Shoko sighs. 
“You should leave.”
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thank you for reading!
i'm satoru when i get high btw. very giggly, very happy, very in love with all of my friends.
tagging @madaqueue since you asked, my munchkin. <3
masterlist | divider by enchanthings
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A smile like that - Lewis Hamilton
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pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: playful, silly and sassy
wordcount: +1k
a/n: Lewis was smiling and so were we❤️❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
I should’ve known what would happen the moment I sent that text.
So, the secret ingredient to you is a shitty Friday and some drama, then?
When Lewis has something to prove, he really proves it. Not just to himself, to the entire world.
And in typical Lewis’s fashion, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to boost about it, even when I’m literally working.
I’m properly miffed as I storm into his driver’s room—no knock, no warning. Just righteous annoyance, fully loaded and ready to fire.
I can’t let him get away with this one, I tell myself. Not today.
Not after that ridiculous Instagram post. I was working, for God’s sake. Interviewing drivers, doing my actual job. And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie.
I should stay mad at him for at least a good ten minutes, minimum. Really drive the point home this time.
But as I catch sight of him, slouched on the couch with that ridiculous grin, my resolve wavers.
Damn it. It’s like trying to stay mad at Roscoe.
He’s still in his Mercedes shir, looking far too pleased with himself, his braids peeking out from under his cap, sweat glistening on his forehead.
Honestly, it should be illegal for someone to look that good after sweating like they do on those cars.
“Oh, hey, love,” he says casually, not even bothering to look up.
Oh, we’re going with casual now.
I close the door with a deliberate click and lean against it, crossing my arms. “Do you want to explain yourself?”
He finally looks up, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What?”
I scoff, unfolding my arms as I march toward him, pulling out my phone with the offending evidence.
“This” I practically shove the screen in his face. It’s his Instagram post, the one where he posted a photo of himself gazing down at me in the media pen with: Had to make sure her smile was also because of me.
It takes all my restraint not to groan aloud. Because honestly, the audacity.
Lewis leans back, completely unfazed, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You were smiling though?”
“That’s not the point, Lewis,” I deadpanned, even though, yes, I was smiling.
But of course I was. It’s impossible not to when he’s around, and that’s exactly the problem?
I hate how he does this to me. One minute, I’m determined to stay mad, the next, I’m grinning like an idiot just because he threw me a smile. It’s infuriating, and yet…
Yet here I am, standing in front of him, and no matter how much he drives me up the wall my traitorous heart does a little somersault because he’s sitting there, giving me that crooked smile like he’s some damn rom-com lead who just said the most heart-melting thing in the world.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together like he’s gearing up for a negotiation. “It’s totally the point.”
I blink at him. “You seriously posted this just to see if I’d show up here?”
“Well…” He pauses, his eyes flickering over my face as if he’s gauging just how annoyed I really am. “That, and because of your text earlier. You know, the one about my shitty Fridays ?”
I raise a brow. “That was sarcasm.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not buying it for a second. “I was just making sure you had a smile like that for me, too.”
God, he’s infuriating.
I huff, but it’s weak. “You know, I was working. Like, interviewing drivers. Doing my job.”
Lewis stands up, taking slow, deliberate steps until he’s standing right in front of me, way too close for comfort—except it’s always comfortable with him. “And one of us was making sure the most important person in the room was smiling.”
Oh. Great. He’s bringing out the charm now.
“You’re unbelievable” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it anymore.
“And yet, you’re here” he says, stepping even closer, his hand brushing against mine.
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Don’t get used to it.”
He smirks. “Too late”
I let out a long-suffering sigh, even as my heart betrays me, pounding a little faster.
His hands find my waist, warm and steady, and with one gentle tug, I’m pulled into him.
I tell myself I’m still annoyed, but the way his fingers trace small circles against my back makes it impossible to hold on to that thought for long.
The scent of sweat and his signature cologne fills the small space between us, and I hate how comforting it feels.
I should be making a point here.
Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my cheek pressing against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding my own.
Because it’s Lewis, and no matter how annoying or cocky or insufferable he is in these moments, I’m always going to melt when he holds me like this.
And should I say it? The words are there, right on the tip of my tongue.
Once I say them, there’s no going back to the easy banter, no covering it up with another snarky remark.
But he deserves to hear it. Especially today.
I lift my head slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. His teasing grin has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes my chest tighten.
“You know,” I murmur, my voice a little more vulnerable than I intended, “I’m really proud of you.”
He freezes for just a second, his eyes searching mine. And then his grip tightens, just slightly, like he’s anchoring himself. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, cautious, like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.
“Yeah.” I nod, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “Never doubted you, not for a second.”
For a moment, something flickers across his eyes, and I know this means more to him than he’s letting on.
Lewis can put on a front, make jokes, tease all he wants, but deep down, this sport is his entire world, and today had been a good day.
After a Friday where nothing went right, after a car that was fighting him every step of the way, he still pulled through. And I’m proud. Proud because I know how much it takes, how much he gives.
He lets out a breath, resting his forehead against mine. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
I grin. “Part of the job, remember?”
He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m still gonna hold you to that smile thing, though.”
I snort. “You’re so needy.”
It’s ridiculous how comfortable being in his arms is—how easy it feels, even if it shouldn’t.
I tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze again, my hand sliding up his chest to rest just above his heart.
“So,” I say, my tone casual but laced with a hint of something more, “tomorrow…”
His eyes darken with interest. “Yeah?”
I give him a coy smile. “I could make it worth your while if you get a win.”
He raises a brow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Oh? And what exactly does ‘worth my while’ entail?”
I shrug, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to win to find out.”
He groans dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine again. “Now I’ve got pressure.”
“You love it though” I tease, throwing his words back at him.
He pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m holding you to this.”
“Good. But this is if you win.”
He pouts, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his features. “Podiums are awesome too! Come on, at least give me top three.
I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm, tempting… but no.”
He shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, his dimple making an appearance. “You’re ruthless.”
“And you love it” I say again, and this time, I mean it in more ways than one.
“Okay,” he says, his tone amused “but when I win, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”
He smirks, leaning in just close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. “You just gave me one more reason to be.”
There it was again, that damn confidence. How was I ever supposed to resist that?
The heat of his body seeps into mine, making my pulse quicken, and for a second, I realize he’s the one with all the control here.
“Good,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Now go do whatever it is you do here.”
He watches me with amusement as I head toward the door. “Leaving already?”
“Yeah. Some of us have work”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”
“Stole my line Hamilton” I glance over my shoulder, giving him a wink “But now you’re the one smiling.”
______________________________________________________________
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I LITERALLY THOUGHT OF YOUR JASON WHEN I SAW THIS TIK TOK: it was someone getting emotional because of their s/o reconnect with hobbies they did during their childhood.
and i just thought of jason presenting reader with baked treats, unknowingly rambling about the treats him and alfred made to give to bruce and kids of crime alley.
and reader just tearing up or (if like me) full on crying and jason holds your hands with his mitten hands, wondering if you burnt yourself from eating them too quick. only for reader to be emotional over his hobbies before he died :(
Cookie Sheets
Ah!! Wait, I LOVE this. Here's a little (mostly) fluffy ramble that spiraled because self-control and Jason Todd do not go together for me. ~500 words
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You didn't think anything of it, when Jason picked up baking ingredients during your weekly grocery shopping trip.
You were mildly curious, when he pulled out a worn, handwritten page from his pocket and started to move around the kitchen, pulling bowls and pans out of the cupboards.
You were engaged, watching silently from where you're sat, when the smell of baked goods started to fill your apartment.
He was obviously focused, eyebrows knitted together, and lower lip pulled between his teeth. You really, really wanna listen to the cliché 'kiss the cook' apron he's wearing, but something about the intent look in his eyes tells you this is important.
So you wait, content to study him as he moves fluidly around the kitchen. Your bright grin matches the giddy expression on his face when the oven timer goes off.
It's when he's finally, carefully moving each cookie off the tray to cool when he starts to talk, "Alfred and I used to bake together all the time."
You straighten out immediately, "Yeah?"
He hums in acknowledgment, "Yeah. For everyone, really. Brownies that B took into the office for his meetings. Cakes for Dick to take back to the Titans. Bags of cookies for the kids on the streets. Pies for the shelters in Park Row."
"Oh," You say softly, and the weight of what he's doing settles on your shoulders. It makes your throat tighten, in grief of what was taken from him and in pride that he's rekindling that part of his life.
You almost want to cry over the fact that he's really always been so good. You practically jump out of your seat, moving to pluck a cookie off the counter.
"Doll," Jason practically cries out, voice pitching. He goes to snatch the treat from your hand, "It's still hot!"
You bite into the cookie instead, "It's delicious."
His eyes soften a little, but he still fixes you with a disbelieving gaze, lifting your hand to inspect it for burns, "They weren't going anywhere, you know."
"We can make more, if you want. Take them down to the soup kitchen," You suggest, a little sheepish as he presses a kiss to your fingertips.
Jason smiles at you, and you know you've said the right thing, "I'd like that." His eyes dart back to the cookies for a moment, "Were they really good? It's been a while since I, uh, made them."
You grab another cookie and grin, biting into it even under his disapproving glare. This time, you listen to the apron and plant a kiss on his cheek, "They're good. Really good."
He kisses your forehead in return and tentatively picks up a cookie, turning it over and inspecting his work. He takes a bite, like he's braced for it to be nothing like he remembers. But his body relaxes instead, "Yeah, doll, they are."
You spoil yourself and chase his lips, curious to see if his baking tastes just as good on his tongue. (It does)
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rafey-baby · 2 days
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cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe
wc: 2.3k
hope u enjoy xx
part 1 part 2
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  
Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  
”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 
”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 
“Oh. Thanks?”
Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  
“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  
“Do you— do you need help with that?” 
“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.
”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  
”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  
”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  
”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  
”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  
Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  
All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  
She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  
And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  
Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...
It's wrong.
It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.
It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 
She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 
Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.
She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  
”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  
”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 
”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  
”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  
”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.
”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 
And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  
They both tense.  
“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  
”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  
”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   
”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  
”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  
”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 
The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 
”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  
She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.
Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 
”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 
”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 
”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  
“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 
”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron Development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 
”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  
”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  
”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 
”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  
”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 
“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  
”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  
”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  
Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  
”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  
”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 
”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 
”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 
”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  
”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  
”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  
”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  
”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  
”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 
”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  
”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  
”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  
”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 
He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  
”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”
She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.
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apnourry · 1 day
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it was hot at work, i was hot at work, i forget the rest
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yayll · 3 days
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~ a little something about Dazai surprising you on your day off ~
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Dazai's not by any means an early riser... That is unless he gets to see you that day.
It's 8 AM and he's tapping his fingers against his pant leg lightly, but he's actually really anxious and impatient. He’s waiting for you to open the front door and flash him that life changing smile of yours he’s been coveting for all week. Today’s your day off and he's decided to come over and spend the day with you so he can cherish every single moment, totally not because he’s slacking off work and wants to do the only other thing he does with his life other than avoid his responsibilities: Be the bane of your existence. You also have a nasty little habit of being a workaholic and he's here to break that once and for all. He's completely spaced out now, lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed in thought when suddenly-
You finally open the door. His angel, his everything. He immediately switches his whole demeanor, eyes twinkling as he scans your figure. You’re still in pajamas, and your hair looks messy. You look absolutely delectable for someone who just woke up to 3 missed calls and 10 texts. Dazai smirks as he leans in, wiggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.
"Well look who’s finally awake! What a sleepy little thing you are. Makes me jealous of that stupid bed of yours… Did you get my texts? Come here"
He looms over you in the middle of the doorway, kissing you softly, tenderly and hungrily.
You blink, and before you can catch your bearings you’re interrupted by the softness of his eager lips. If your mouth opens, he’s pouncing. After a few moments of uninterrupted bliss, you pull back, eyes still drowsy and breathing a bit shallow. You yawn, running your fingers through your bedhead.
“Sorry. I, um… was still asleep until now. I was trying to sleep in-”
He gasps, and tilts his head, as if baffled by this.
“Now why would you do that when we have plans today?”
“... We don’t, though?”
Dazai laughs, dismissing your rightful confusion. He knows you guys never discussed plans, he just doesn't care. He lightly pinches your nose in between his fingers.
“We do! It’s why I let you sleep in for a few extra hours before coming over.”
You lazily swat at him, crinkling your nose. He’s swooning! Dazai feels a jolt of electricity through his body upon seeing the way you respond to his doting. Making you flustered is his favorite entertainment, besides suicide of course.
“But it’s 8 AM.”
“Exactly! That’s like half the day."
"... How long have you been up for?”
He rolls his eyes affectionately as he buffs his knuckles on his tan coat, replying with a nonchalant hum.
“Hmm, not important— What’s for breakfast?”
He lets himself into your apartment and you sigh into a defeated smile that somehow still holds affection for this ridiculous man. You follow him as he strides to the kitchen and fold your arms across your chest.
“You know, I’m kinda grumpy right now. It’s too early, Osamu. I need my sleep."
“And might I say you look absolutely stunning when you’re grumpy? How ever did I get this lucky…”
“Keep it up and I’ll get even worse, you goofball.”
Dazai smiles, it’s sly and dangerous. A challenge, he hears? He pretends to think for a moment, his finger placed on his lips as if really contemplating something. He’s just picturing what you’d look like yelling at him. Heavenly, of course. He flashes you a tender smile as if you just said the most romantic thing and curls his arm around your waist, whispering.
“Ooh, then I can’t wait to see worse.~”
You roll your eyes, unable to help the pink hue spreading over your face. Maybe you're still half asleep, maybe you’re just hopelessly in love with him. Either way you’re screwed. You whine with a hint of annoyance.
“Osamuuuu…”
Oh how he loves when you say his name like that. Maybe it’s time for you two to skip breakfast, he already does anyway, but he knows you actually need nutrients to function. He replies in a singsong voice.
“Yeeesss?”
“I’m making pancakes and you are going to sit down and wait.”
You point at the kitchen counter trying to be stern, and of course, failing miserably.
He looks back at the stool and then back at you. He leans within inches of your face, his nose poking yours. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly and winks.
“No can do, cutie~”
You two spend the morning making breakfast, or at least trying to. YOU are trying to, anyway. Everytime you go to gather ingredients, he’s already handing them to you. When your back is turned to him, you feel his arms snaking around you as you flip pancakes unevenly due to the distracting trail of kisses he's leaving down your neck. You secretly smile to yourself whenever you’re not feigning irritation, you know he loves the banter… Why not indulge the poor man?
You serve two plates and sit down, along with two mugs of coffee. Dazai isn’t allowed to have caffeine around you, but once again, you took pity on him today for some reason… or is it his mystifying persuasion manipulation at play here? He takes a sip of his mug and a satisfying ‘Ahh’ releases soon after. He flickers his eyes towards you as you're about to sip yours as well, and it’s like the world stops. His pupils dilate and he watches intently as the rim reaches your lips, resting his chin on his palm as he leans lazily over the counter. He’s like a dog watching its owner adoringly. During his trance-like state, he thinks about how if you lived together this would be his every day routine. He could get used to watching you drink coffee and eat food. You'd wake up next to each other and hold hands as you watch the sun rise. He would tell you how breathtaking you look with bedhead and make you late for work after failing to keep his hands to himself. Maybe then you wouldn't think he's such an impenetrable wall of secrets. He wonders if there's a future where all of that happens... He snaps out of it, and murmurs.
“Can I have a taste?”
You perk up and look over, tilting your head to the side, amused.
“What, the coffee? You have your own.”
He’s so focused now, staring at your full lips, thinking of a proper answer. He wants to tell you that he's never had intimate moments like these with anyone else and he doesn’t know how long it’ll last before his luck with you runs out, that he’s afraid you’ll see right through his one dimensional facade and leave him for good. That you won’t follow him to his untimely demise should he ever fall, so he has to capture every second of it so he can keep you in his mind forever. He has to lock you up in his heart and throw away the key, otherwise becoming a man of virtue loses all its meaning.
Instead, he opts for the less complicated route, the corners of his lips curling up into a coy smile as he places a gentle hand on your thigh.
“No, your lips, dummy. I want to taste the coffee off of your lips.”
There are no words for the audacity of Osamu Dazai and the feelings thrashing inside you when he says things like that. You smile bashfully and look away, unable to accept his shameless flirting.
“You’re so weird, Osamu…”
“Mm, I'm so yours. No takesies backsies.~"
You slowly meet his gaze, his watchful eyes that ooze devotion practically holding yours hostage… God, you are so beautiful to him. Before you can even register it, Dazai scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the living room, laying you down on the soft couch. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. As soon as you show him the look of love that gives him the consent he’s looking for, he doesn’t think twice about it. He grabs your chin and pulls you into a messy kiss. He kisses you rough, his tongue almost immediately sliding into your mouth as he moans into you. His moans turn into whimpers, like he's been starved of touch for far too long and you're satiating the hunger. He needs to taste the coffee you just drank, and he wants you to know exactly how much he's been aching for this moment. For your much needed day off. For you.
He keeps his hand at your chin, pressing you down deeper into the couch with his hips grinding against yours as he tastes the acidity of the coffee along with the honey you sweetened it with.
Finally, when you literally cannot breathe, you pull away with your dazed and blissed out expression, all red in the face just like he loves. You mumble in between pants.
“Wait— So... What exactly was the plan for today?”
He looks up from running his tongue along your jawline and flashes you that infamously deceptive smile he perpetually keeps on his face, tapping his index finger on your cheek. His voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
“Breakfast.”
“.. But we already had breakfast.”
He sighs deeply and his finger ghosts its way from your cheek down to the waistband of your pajama bottoms as he needily mumbles in your ear.
“Still hungry.. I’m a growing boy, you know.~”
You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head.
"You're going to tire me, Osamu.. Work wears me out enough as is-"
He wiggles a finger at you, face full of sickening desire as he carefully lowers his head down by your stomach, resting his cheek on your soft flesh. He murmurs in that soft pleading way that drives you insane when he combos it with his reverent touch.
"Listen to me, please. No more work talk... No more stressing out your pretty self, okay? I haaaaate demanding jobs. It only takes you away from me."
You look down and simply nod, your eyes trained on the way he looks at you from under his lashes and the soft brown hair that frames his face. Your heart races with anticipation as a smile slowly creeps up onto your lips. You don't need words for what comes next.
For the rest of the day, he makes sure you have the best time off, it's the least he can do as your incredibly attentive and not selfish at all boyfriend! A day where you can shut out all thoughts of work... along with literally anything else that doesn't relate to him.
Unfortunately for you, there is no resting involved on said day. Fortunately for Dazai, you look so cute as you writhe under him for hours on end. That'll get it through your pretty little skull not to work so much.
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list4r · 2 days
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“Eat it or no tv for you.”
“No!”
“Oh cmon you eat this every day, why not now?”
“I don’t want it! You didn’t do it right!”
“It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ain’t no right way to do it baby.”
Toji narrows his eyes at the little girl who refused to eat the sandwich he made for her. Correction: the fifth sandwich he had made because “he didn’t do it right.” If he had known this is what having a kid would be like he would’ve studied the basics of sandwich making for toddlers. Ridiculous.
“Well can you tell me the way you want it? I’m not sure what the right way is.”
“I want it like how mommy does it!”
“Well mommy is at work.”
“Then I don’t want it.” The face she makes remind him of you, she’s basically a carbon copy of you personality wise. That tiny face scrunched up when she hears or sees something she doesn’t want. It was amazing how easily she could get anything she wants, Toji was wrapped around her tiny little finger.
“Okay I’ll do it again.” He repeats the same routine of grabbing the bread and putting the peanut butter then the jelly on it. Thinking maybe he cut it wrong he decided to cut it in fours. A bad idea by the way because he is immediately hit with the hysterical cries of his toddler.
“Wait hey hey no no- don’t cry. What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong again?”
“I’m telling mommy you starving me and being a meanie daddy!”
“I’m not a meanie daddy, that’s not nice to say.”
“Uh huh!”
“Nuh uh…. Brat.” Toji scoffs as he looks around to find anything to soothe the crying child. “You want chicken nuggets? Pretty sure we got the dino ones you like so much.”
“I want- *sniffle* sandwich.”
“I made you like a 100 of them but you didn’t want them.. I don’t know what you want me to do-“
The sound of your keys turning in the door cut off his words, Toji lets out a sigh of relief. “Baby.. thank god you’re here.” He greets you with a kiss and helps you out of your outerwear, a routine you two have developed over the years.
“Why is she crying Toji? Awww what’s wrong sweetheart?” You pick up the child, holding her close as you wipe the tears off her cheeks.
“Daddy won’t feed me!”
“Wha- don’t lie to your mom like that. She just didn’t want what I made her that’s all.”
Turning to him you raise an eyebrow “what did you make for her?”
“What she always eat for lunch. Fuckin nasty ass peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“Don’t call her food nasty in front of her. How did you make it?”
“Like how any normal person makes it.” Toji shrugs, wondering why such a question was asked.
“You have to do it a certain way or she won’t eat it.
“So she said. So I put the peanut butter-“
“No it’s the jelly first Toji.”
“What the fuck? I didn’t know there was a certain way.”
You place the child back down, gathering the ingredients. “It’s always jelly first then the peanut butter, on separate breads too don’t mix them and don’t put too much. Then cut the crusts off and cut them into three rectangles.” You say as you perfectly demonstrate how to make the sandwich. “If you don’t do it like this she won’t eat it. Learned it the hard way- here you go sweetie.”
“Thank you mommy!”
Toji scoffs at the scene, earning a giggle from the little girl happily munching away. “Tch… yeah okay I’ll remember that next she demands it.” He pretended to be annoyed but the happy giggles from his little girl cause his mouth to turn on both corners. Honestly he has a lot to learn about his dad business but having you by his side definitely makes things easier.
“Seriously, ain’t shit easy about raising a child.”
“What can I say? I’m just the best”
“Hm yeah she definitely gets her attitude from you.”
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