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#and the heavy things he was putting up or carrying
gyuswhore · 2 days
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Shut Up (don't)
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anniversary event [closed]
lee seokmin x reader
prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out
word count: 2.7k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap
[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.
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Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup. 
All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway. 
“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed. 
Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.
Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on. 
You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning. 
He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep. 
“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes. 
“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.” 
“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist. 
He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom. 
“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”
Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second. 
“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”
“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”
“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”
You freeze. 
On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom. 
It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room. 
“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”
That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.” 
“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head. 
“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.
“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!” 
“You know what?�� you begin.
“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”
“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”
“I just said—”
“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over. 
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—” 
Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds. 
In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words. 
Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms. 
“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further. 
You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…
Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment. 
“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.
“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space. 
You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to. 
“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone. 
“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior. 
Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold. 
Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat. 
Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off. 
“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper. 
“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”
This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower. 
And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip! 
He’s ripped your tights. 
“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself. 
He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut. 
It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely. 
You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you. 
“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him. 
When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling. 
“God, Seok that feels so good.”
He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you. 
When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him. 
“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows. 
“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap. 
“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing. 
You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was. 
It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality. 
It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks. 
“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs. 
You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast. 
His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping. 
Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips. 
One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars. 
“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say. 
“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”
Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end. 
Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.
By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths. 
Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck. 
You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear. 
“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin. 
“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips. 
He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s. 
“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly. 
You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight. 
Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”
“Please don’t ever leave.”
“Never.”
“Promise?” 
You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.
“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek. 
“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”
You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”
He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”
“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest. 
“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?” 
He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden. 
You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck. 
Promises that you can count on him to fulfill. 
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
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Hi!! Idk if this is against ur guidelines but would you be okay with doing hcs for aftercare w Jason Grace? I love your writing sm and I love my heroes of olympus boys 😔🙏❤️
ᬊ jason grace | aftercare headcanons
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☆ radiostar is playin': my girl by the temptations...!
warnings: sexual references, aged up (as everything in my writings) a/n: Heyyy, YES. this kind of content is accepted in my rules, which you can read here — rules. thank you sm for your cutie words 🥹🫶🏻 and thanks for passing by my blog! — kisses from Jupiter 💙
Jason is one of the best at aftercare because he's an amazing lover and boyfriend, no more to argue about.
Whatever position you end up in, he carefully slides out of you, not wanting to hurt you.
He's probably feeling a bit too much, just like you, so the first thing he does is ask if you're okay, without hugging you yet to avoid overwhelming you.
It's only when he sees that you're fine that he cuddles with you for a few moments while your breaths regulate and your hearts stop threatening to burst out of your chests.
And as soon as he feels a bit better, he'll be checking on you. He'll run his fingers through the hair on your neck and give you sweet kisses. "Are you okay?" he asks in his husky voice while stroking your bare shoulder.
It's so cute because he treats you like a delicate piece of glass after nearly breaking you in two and just telling you the dirtiest things, but you live for those two sides of him because damn, he's hot, right?
Jason always thinks about the type of aftercare you'll need depending on how you're feeling afterward. Some days he knows you need some time alone after reaching your orgasm and coming back to yourself, while other times you need to cuddle with him until you both fall asleep.
Jason has many things planned; for example, he'll have supplies ready, so after kissing your cheek, he'll put on his boxers and go get water or snacks for you. He helps you sit up in bed and brushes your hair away from your face.
He loves seeing your sleepy face and the sleepiness in it, as well as how flushed is.
He can't help but give you delicate kisses, trying not to overstimulate you again.
He also shows his concern in words, asking or saying sweet things like "Is my girl tired?" "You're so cute" "Come on, honey, drink some water."
He'll also ask if he crossed any boundaries with you. "Was I too rough?" You just shake your head, and he smiles.
"Come on, let's clean you up," and he carries you to the bathroom when you're feeling better. Literally like a feather, no matter how heavy you think you are, he can carry you.
Some days you both shower together, and other times he waits outside the bathroom while you shower. Maybe he'll be changing the sheets and tidying up the bed so you can rest better afterward.
You have your clothes in his place for moments like this, but still, Jason always prefers to give you one of his sweaters; he loves seeing you in them.
That man will cook for you and bring it to bed.
Once you're both changed, clean, and you've eaten something, you can finally cuddle up and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.
Kisses and caresses.
Him humming while he strokes your hair.
You resting your head on his chest and him holding you tight.
Small "I love yous" whispered in your ear and hugs.
Until you both fall asleep.
This sometimes changes, but it's always Jason paying attention to your needs at that moment, because for him, you're his whole world.
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mahuhumaling · 3 days
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not to intellectualize and defend bridgerton's mid ass writing but for me S2 was never really a love triangle.
sure they marketed it heavily that way, had charithra join jb & simone for main promos etc., but edwina has always been a representation of what was truly hindering kanthony to love each other: DUTY.
kanthony are both eldest children who were raised to take care of their younger siblings, stepped up to practically be the heads of their respective households, and had to carry the burden of responsibilities at a young age.
edwina is literally the physical manifestation of that reminder. anthony never loved her, we get like one (1) scene of edwina and anthony alone together because they never made him develop romantic feelings for her.
kanthony are both too stubborn because time and time again they KEEP prioritizing her (= DUTY) instead of themselves. it's why it takes kanthony's moms' apologies for putting them in such a role so young when they faced heavy losses in their lives — for KA to actually recognize that it's okay to have something for themselves.
jb said it himself: anthony needed to go through such a long and slow character arc before really committing and fully devoting himself to kate. he "surrenders" himself to the thing he has deprived himself off of for most of the season (for months, in show time): happiness.
i thought ppl understood that but apparently not. they're too busy complaining about the lack of KA screentime when that's literally not true???
and that apparently kate's backstory wasn't that fleshed out? these people think flashbacks are the only filmic device to give depth to a character when that is the furthest thing from the truth. you get to know her through her scenes with other ppl, her relationship with them.
you see all her facets: her horsemanship, her love for newton, her competitiveness, her disposition as a spinster, how little she feels because of her grandparents, how she subconsciously desires her mother's approval, her strength, womanhood, and capability in conversations with eloise, how edwina is literally an extension of her (taught and shaped her as a person), & of course her own desires and wants.
but no, they want to waste time getting mad at edwina to see all of what they've been trying to show us, and determining whether a character is well-written only when she is "likeable" or within the standards of morality like ohmygod give me a BREAK
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✨Elriel moments: love languages edition✨
Acts of service:
He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once.
“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”
But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.
Words of Affirmation:
Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said.
Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”
Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”
Quality Time:
“Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.”
Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea
Gift Giving:
“Az, this one’s for you.” The shadowsinger’s brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.” Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed—“I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”
She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. "Here." … Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..." He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse.
He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her. Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around. The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
Physical Touch:
Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.
He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.
It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.
Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.
Based on these, I think Elain mostly shows love with gift giving/words of affirmation while Azriel is acts of service/quality time. I’m sure they both love physical touch coming from the right person 😉
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ginabaker1666 · 3 days
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This Is Always
From the Love Letter Series
Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)
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The holidays are usually a time to be spent together, cold noses warmed by the fire, and joyful cheers as the New Year approaches. This year, Rosie is struggling with being away from Jo, and acknowledging the future that he dreams of sharing with her. A heart to heart with Crosby helps put things into perspective for both of them.
Read Part 3 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist
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January 1944
My Dearest Jo,
Happy New Year, honey pie! It’s just after midnight here, and though I wanted to be the first person to wish you a Happy New Year, I know that by the time you get this, it will be after the fact. I guess by writing this now, while it’s still ‘43 back home, I’m letting myself be greedy in being the first to send you those wishes. I hope you’re doing something fun tonight, and getting all dolled up to paint the town red. Your last letter came just after Christmas, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you just how happy it made me to hear that you were still doing all of your usual Christmas favorites, even if I’m not home to carry all your shopping bags back to Brooklyn after a full day in the city. Believe me, I even miss doing that, no matter how heavy some of them are. 
I got Ma’s last letter just a few days before yours arrived, and she mentioned that you went by the house to celebrate Hanukkah with her and Jeanie. I know that made her really happy, and I can’t thank you enough for keeping an extra eye on both of them for me while I’m stuck over here. My sister would argue that she doesn’t need anyone keeping an eye on her, but I’m sure she appreciates your company, and will rub it in my face after the fact that she got to spend so much time with you. That’s what little sisters do, isn’t it? 
We had a small thing in the Officers Club for the holidays; nothing too fancy, but there was music, and some good liquor that someone managed to scrounge up for the occasion. The Red Cross Clubmobile girls pulled some resources and, even with rationing, managed to bake a few cookies for us. They were good, but they couldn't hold a candle to yours. 
I have never wanted one of your Christmas cookies more than after reading your letter, and to know that Jean Crosby took over as the official taste tester this year; oh it broke my heart darling. But, I’m glad to know that you two girls are keeping each other company, and I know that Croz is happy knowing that she’s not alone. I do hope you two aren’t causing too much trouble while we’re away. Knowing you the way that I do, I know that’s a bit of a pipe dream, but one of the reasons I adore you the way that I do. 
At the risk of sounding melancholy, I’ve spent most of today wishing I could take you dancing; spin you around until we’re both dizzy, until finally we can ring in the new year with champagne. Crowded on the dance floor at Minton’s, wrapped up in each other. Maybe it’s bold of me to ask, or maybe it’s the whiskey, but would you have allowed me a midnight kiss, Jo? I can’t picture kissing anyone else as the clock strikes twelve, nor do I want to, on this holiday or any other day. I hope that by next year, we'll be able to spend the evening together, and not have to send holiday wishes in letters that take too long to get there. 
I dream of you every night, sweetheart, and every night these sweet dreams end with a kiss before I’m pulled back to reality. I’ve been dreaming of the future, and if the real thing is anything like my dreams, I can’t wait for those days to begin. I wonder,do you dream of those days too? Of building a home together, a life that’s just ours. Living in the city, maybe somewhere near Harry and Jean. We could go to the pictures on Friday nights, and sleep in on Saturday’s, warm under the blankets until we peel ourselves from the sheets only because we need to make coffee. I’d spin you around the kitchen while we made breakfast, a record on the Victrola, the two of us tangled together while the eggs burned. The more I think about it, the more it all sounds like a dream come true. 
Maybe it is the whiskey talking, but it’s getting late here. Or early depending on how you look at it, and even though we aren’t flying tomorrow, I’m sure the rest of the fellas will be returning from the Officers Club soon enough. I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, sweetheart, and counting the days until we’re together again. 
Sending you millions of hugs and kisses, and all of my love. 
Yours for always
Robbie
Rosie took a deep breath, and without giving himself a chance to second guess anything in his letter, folded it up and slid it inside the envelope. He’d address it in the morning and drop it off at APO so that it went out with the next mail call; tonight it would remain on the nightstand next to his bed, with Jo’s photo. He was still in his uniform, not having bothered changing after he returned to the Officer’s hut, and was about to take advantage of the empty shower stall, when the door swung open and Harry walked in.
“Thought I’d find you in here.” Harry spoke, hand coming up to loosen his tie. 
“Yea, I uh, wanted to get a letter out to Jo,” Rosie signed, dragging his hand down his face. ‘Or at the very least, written.”
“It’s rough around the holidays isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. Harry knew as well as he did, and he knew his friend was giving him an opening to get his feelings off his chest. 
“Probably the most difficult part of all this. We’ve spent every Christmas and Hanukkah together since we met.”
“She celebrates Hanukkah with you and your mom?”
“Jo is the best gift giver in our family, according to my sister.” Rosie grinned. 
“Sounds like your sister will be the disappointed one if you don’t put a ring on Jo’s finger when we get home.” Harry chuckled, dropping down onto his own bed, across from Rosie’s.
“She’d have to fight my Ma for the top spot, if I don’t marry Jo.” 
The two shared a quiet moment  as their thoughts drifted to a place far from England. Far from flak and casualties and torn fuselages. No thoughts of missing friends, mission counts or that damned red light never blinking off. 
Rosie knew that Harry understood better than anyone; how it felt to be so devoted to someone, and yet, he felt compelled to ask the one question that, if he had to wager, everyone asks at some point. 
“How’d you know Jean was the one?” He asked after a moment, gaze turned upward to meet that of his friend. 
“She wanted nothing to do with me when we met,” Harry balked so loudly that it seemed to echo off the walls of the Nissen Hut. “But I knew. I didn’t want to spend another day without her.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Oh yeah, you just know,” Harry nodded. “When did you know Jo was the one? And don’t tell me you didn’t…”
“Let’s just say I should have opened my mouth a long time ago.”
“Well, better late than never.”
“What if I was too late, Croz?”
Harry stood from his bed, moving around the front to lean himself against the footboard. With a determined gaze, he made sure he had Rosie’s full attention before saying what was on his mind. 
“You can’t think like that. You need to believe you’re going home to her, that you two will have a life after all this.”
“God, I hope so.”
“I don’t know Jo as well as you do,” He started. “I only know what Jean tells me in her letters, but it sounds to me like she’s really something. And I’m not just saying that because she went out of her way to befriend my wife.”
“I told her I want a life with her, a future, our own place, Saturday mornings in bed, lazy days…”
“You want the dream.” Harry nodded in understanding. 
“Told her maybe we’d move to the city, leave Brooklyn, get a place near you and Jean.”
“Sounds like we’ll be in trouble if that happens, Jo and Jean a stone's throw away from each other?”
“I think the two of us are going to have our hands full when we get home, Croz.”
“I bet they’re saying the same thing about us,” Harry laughed. “And I wouldn’t blame Jean. I’ve been a real handful as of late.”
“Oh yea, you’re causing lots of trouble all the way over here.” Rosie chuckled, propping his legs up on the bed, feet hanging off the edge so as to not dirty the sheets. He didn’t miss the slight look of distress that flashed across his friend's face. 
He regarded him carefully; he looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue. His face looked worried, like he had something weighing him down exponentially, and Rosie would allow his friend the moment if he needed it. After all, it was the holiday’s and they were the best source of camaraderie that they had; friends should be there for each other. No one understood that better than he did. 
“No, I’ve been a handful…” Harry finally continued. 
“Croz?”
“Remember after Munster? When Harding sent me to Oxford?”
“Yea…”
“They double you up when you’re at those conferences, and my roommate, she-”
“Ah jeez, Croz…”
Harry sighed, dropping his head, too ashamed to look his friend in the eye. The moment had turned in the blink of an eye, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, or get his friend through it. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try. 
“I don’t know how to tell Jean.”
“Is this why you kept disappearing up to London? To see her?”
“How do I tell my wife that I slept with another woman?”
“You just do, Croz.”
“That’s the worst possible thing to write in a letter. ‘Honey, I miss you terribly, by the way…’”
“Alright, I see your point. But you need to tell her.”
“This fucking war,” Harry sighed. “I swear, it peels the humanity right from your bones.”
“Then you fight it.”
“More than we already have? More than what we’ve given and lost?”
Rosie knew he was referring to Bubbles, and for a moment he let his mind wander to Nash, and that first mission to Bremen. It would be easy to fold; to pack it up and let the fight take from you more and more. But he would be damned if he’d let it take more from him, and if he had to fight a little extra to make sure it didn’t take any more from his friend, he’d do that too. 
“You’re not fighting it alone, Croz.”
“Feels like it most of the time.”
“And you’re fighting for something back home, even if you feel like you don’t deserve it at the moment.”
“I don't deserve her.” 
“Yea, you do. And you’ll tell her everything, whether you write it, or tell her when we get home. And Jo and I will be there for you both.”
Harry looked like he was about to respond when the door to the Officers Hut swung open. He turned, half expecting a replacement officer, but was surprised to see Blakely and Douglass, the former with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and Douglass swinging a bottle of something in his left hand. 
“Nightcap, fellas?” Douglass lifted the bottle, and Rosie could just make out the label. Vat 69. 
“Where the hell did you get that, Dougie?” Harry’s eyes went wide at the familiar label from back home. A very expensive label. 
“Been saving it, so come on, let’s have a drink.”
“No, seriously, who’d you steal that from?” Rosie asked, watching as Blakely gathered four of the glasses the boys kept on their side tables for brushing their teeth. 
“I won it in a bet, if you must know.” Douglass grinned, pulling the wax seal from the neck of the bottle before pulling the cork out.
“The details are not of importance,” Blakely chimed in, swatting Rosie’s legs off the bed to take up the space next to him. “What is important is that we’re here, and alive, so stop asking questions and have a drink would ya?”
Douglass poured for the four of them, dropping himself down on the bed next to Rosie’s, while waiting for Harry to join them. 
“Any day now, Croz…” he groaned, glass between two fingers as he held it out for the navigator. “It’ll be ‘45 by the time you move.”
“Dougie… fuck off.” Harry stood with a laugh, brushing off his slacks before snatching the glass and taking the seat next to him. “And anyway, we’d all better be home by ‘45.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Blakely nodded, holding his glass up to cheers his friends, the only ones left that weren’t replacement crews, or trapped somewhere in the Stalag. 
The foursome sat silently as they sipped their prize whiskey, thoughts turned presumably to home and memories of Christmas and New Years’ spent with people they loved and missed. 
“Alright, what would you be doing if you were home right now?” Ev broke the silence, leaning his elbows on his knees, gaze landing on Harry. 
“His wife, dumbass.” Douglass chuckled. 
“Woah hey, none of that.” Rosie looked between the two, the rules immediately being put into place without having to say them. 
They didn’t talk like that, but he assumed it had been a bit too much whiskey already for Douglass, and with there no mission on the horizon for tomorrow, their guards were all down a bit. 
“Right, right, sorry Croz,” Douglass held his hands up in apology. “For real, what would you and Jean be doing if you were home?”
“We’d go out for dinner, but I think we’d probably be home for the bells,” he closed his eyes wistfully, and Rosie knew his friend was simply hoping that he’d be able to do that next year. “Dance in the living room, and yea, off to bed.”
Blakely nodded, reaching across to drop his hand to Crosby’s knee in a gesture of good faith, that he felt for him in a way, and was hoping he’d get that moment sooner rather than later. 
“What about you?” Ev turned to his right, finding Rosie sitting quietly. 
“What about me?” Rosie brought the glass to his lips, taking a small sip and letting the taste linger on his tongue a moment. 
“Would you and Josephine be out on the town?” Douglass asked, gesturing to the photo on Rosie’s side table. 
“Oh yea, we’d be at Minton’s, dancing until they kicked us out I’m sure.” Rosie laughed. 
“Together at the club then?”
“Every year we go dancing on New Years,” Rosie started. “Christmas and Hanukkah are for family, New Years is for friends.”
“She’s more than a friend.” Harry looked at him pointedly. 
“She is, and a fella can dream that she’ll say yes when I get home.”
Blakely, who had been pulling the cigarette from behind his ear to light it, fumbled, dropping it to the ground at Rosie’s confession. 
“You got a ring?!”
“No, but, that’s my second order of business once I’m back stateside.”
“And the first?”
“To kiss the hell out of her.” Rosie confessed. 
“Good man.” Blakely slapped him on the shoulder, a smile on his face. 
It was absolutely the whiskey talking this time, but he was among friends. The trust was insurmountable. Between the confessions that had taken place before Ev and Dougie had joined them, and the warmth flowing through his veins, Rosie lifted the glass to his lips to drain it, before standing from his place on the bed. Swiping the envelope from earlier, and a clean sheet of paper from the table, he glanced at his friends with a grin, and offered a two fingered salute. 
“Gentlemen, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going! We still have more whiskey!” Douglass hollered after him. 
“Save it for another occasion!” Rosie called back as he pushed through the doors and out into the chilly January air. 
He walked until he found a spot under one of the lamp posts, the bench undoubtedly cold as he sat down, but he wouldn’t be out here for long. Just enough time, and privacy, to get the thoughts swarming around in his head out on the page before he lost his nerve. 
Pulling his pen from his breast pocket, he carefully let the paper rest on his thigh before he began scrawling his extra note. 
Hi Sweetheart, 
I know this is coming with no context but, I want you to know how much I adore you. I know I’ve said it in different ways, and a few times by now, but, I mean it. Truly, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. And to say it from thousands of miles away, with a war on no less. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hit me once I’m back home. 
Just know that I’ll always, always, carry your heart with the most careful of hands. I’ll keep you safe, and treasure every moment we have together. Anything you want, it’s yours, Jo. A quiet life together, or a herd of children that jump on the bed on Sunday mornings. I’ll make sure you have it honey. 
Just know, I’m yours for however long you’ll have me, Josephine. I’m hoping for forever, but that’s a question for another day. 
I love you,
Robbie 
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @basilone @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie
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ladykissingfish · 22 hours
Text
(Blank) The Type Of Person …
Konan the type of person to sleepwalk to the kitchen at midnight, eat all the leftover pizza, put the empty box back in the fridge, wake up the next day forgetting what she did, and go around interrogating/threatening to kill everyone because dammit she was planning on eating that for breakfast!
Hidan the type of person to not shower for weeks at a time because he believes that drenching himself in cologne works the same.
Sasori the type of person to say he’s only going to read ONE chapter of his book this evening, end up reading the entire thing in one sitting, absolutely hate the ending and spend the rest of the next day writing a fanfic about it to “correct the mistakes”.
Kakuzu the type of person to insist that his birthday is “just another day” and “not a big deal” then be really, really hurt if everyone doesn’t make it a big deal.
Konan the type of person to seem very gentle and delicate at home, but when she goes to the gym she’s an absolute heavy-lifting beast.
Itachi the type of person to pour himself a bowl of Raisin Bran for the fiber then sit and pick out raisins until the bowl contains an even number of them.
Kakuzu the type of person that absolutely does not trust banks and keeps all of his money either under the bed or in his pillowcase, and everyone KNOWS this but nobody ever tries to rob him because they know this man counts his cash at least five times a day and will literally stab you if he thinks you took even a few cents from him.
“Tobi” the type of person to “confess” to everyone in the Akatsuki as to who he really is, but separately and secretly, so that each person believes that they’re the only one who knows the truth.
Obito the type of person to spend forever picking out little thoughtful gifts for his friends, then never give the presents to them because he thinks they’re not good enough.
Itachi the type of person that spends the first ten minutes in the shower just standing and staring blankly at the wall.
Deidara the type of person to speak vigorously and viciously about someone he doesn’t like, but then all that person has to do is give one teeny tiny positive compliment about Dei’s art and he does a complete 360 opinion change on them.
Kisame the type of person that watches himself work out, shirtless, in the mirror.
The type to wash the dishes right away: Konan, Itachi, Sasori, Kisame
The type to let the dishes sit in the sink until they’re “reminded” to do them: Hidan, Deidara,
The type to purposely do the dishes so badly that the others just do them before they do: Tobi
The type who make someone else do the dishes by threat of violence: Kakuzu, Nagato
The type to never use dishes, period: Zetsu
Deidara the type of person to start some kind of new diet every week. One week it’s cutting out added sugar, the next it’s going for a high protein intake, the next it’s intermittent fasting, etc. The routines usually last about 3 days before Dei gives them up in pursuit of something better.
Nagato the type of person to keep holding on to an old phone simply because the newer ones have gotten rid of the headphone jack and he despises wireless buds. Says it’s for aesthetic reasons but it’s really because he doesn’t get how wireless and Bluetooth works and feels too embarrassed to ask anyone to explain it to him.
Itachi the type of person that'll start going gray in his late teens and feverishly dye his hair at least once a week to hide this from the others.
Zetsu the type of person to be anal about buying “all organic” products at the grocery store and judge the others when they don’t. Conveniently ignores that organic products cost more money and most of the others don’t have the financial resources that he does.
The type to carry the groceries in, in multiple trips: Konan, Itachi, Zetsu
The type to attempt to carry all of the groceries in at once no matter how bulky or heavy: Deidara, HIDAN, Kisame, Tobi
The type to (threaten) someone else to carry in the groceries: Nagato, Sasori
The type to offer to pay someone else to bring in the groceries (but never does): Kakuzu
Kisame the type of person to constantly downplay his talents or abilities, while secretly being the most badass person to ever do anything, ever. Makes a fantastic poker player.
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lostfirefly · 2 days
Text
What do you do? What do you do in the bath?
I've been incredibly productive this week. I will probably be less active next week, because I need to prepare for the 3D animation course test. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)
Masterlist is here
I'm not confident in writing smut. So I apologize in advance.
Decription: Buggy came home from a short tour. He and Catherine are taking a bath. Something gets out of control :)
Warnings: SFW (fun, domestic fluff) turns into NSFW (Cathie-pie seduces her clown), MDNI
Words: 4749
Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.
Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august
The title is taken from "In the Bath" by Lemon Jelly (don't laugh!).
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Catherine periodically came to the window with a glass of wine. She glanced first at the clock, then out the window. She heard the sound of a car door closing and ran to the window again. 
“Not my little bear…” She sighed, took a bottle of wine and went to the sofa. 
Catherine was lying on the sofa with a book when she heard the sound of keys in the front door and heavy footsteps. 
"Cotton candy, I'm home!" She heard her favorite deep voice from the corridor. 
"Finally!!!" Catherine jumped up from the couch and ran to the front door and saw Buggy leaning with his back against the wall. She clenched her hands into fists and started squealing. 
"My Buggy Bea-a-r!!!!" Catherine jumped on Buggy, hugging him with her arms and legs. "Hi, hi, hi!!" Smack. Smack. Smack.
“First, hi! Second, it's still a disgusting nickname when you are gonna change it? Third, this is for you! I bought it.” He handed her a bouquet of blue carnations.
“Liar!!” Smack. “I’m pretty sure you stole it!” Smack. “Thanks!” Smack. “So beautiful!” Smack. “Your nickname remains!” Smack. “I missed you!” Smack. Smack. Smack. 
“First, why pay for a bouquet when I can easily steal it?” Buggy shrugged, trying to pretend he doesn't like smacks. “Second, I have only been gone for two days and already such a greeting! I like it!!” He carried Catherine into the bedroom. 
“You were gone for two whole days, my red-nose thief!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “How did everything go? Did the fangirls attack you? Found yourself a new girlfriend?” Catherine stroked his head. “I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. Women's things finished me off.” She kissed him on his lips.
“Are you out of your mind? Why do I need some other girl? Everything went fine!” Buggy put Catherine on the bed. “Feeling better already?” He took the bouquet and sent his hand to place it in a vase on the night table. 
“Yes! By the way, what kind of strange thing did you send me? I didn’t get the sense.” Catherine wiped her lips, took out her phone and showed the photo.
“Damn! You have me listed under that fucking nickname here, too.” Buggy placed his hand on her waist, glanced at her, pretending he’s unhappy with the recording. “And this isn't a strange thing. Honey, it’s you.”
"It's a bush, Buggy!” Catherine put her hand on his shoulder. 
“No-o-o, it's you!” He pointed his finger at the photo. 
“In what universe is this me?" 
“It looks like you! See? Here’s the hair, the hands. And if you look closely at these branches, this is your “I hate you” face. I saw it, thought about you, and wanted to show it to you.” 
“I can't believe that the love of my life compared me to a bush.” Catherine kissed Buggy on his head, started jumping on the bed and watched him change into his home clothes. “You sent a message that you'll be home in an hour. And it's already been two. Where have you been, jackass? How's the journey home?”
“Disgusting. I had to put a couple of my freaks in the car, and they kept whining. Sometimes they were hot, sometimes they were cold. And we had to stop periodically.” Buggy looked at her, pulling off his sock. “Why are you laughing, little shit?”
“It’s amazing to listen to one of the most whiny persons in the world complain about what others complain about.” Catherine smiled and 
“Go to hell, honestly! I never whine!”
“You're always whining. When we returned from our adventure, you whined that after the celebration we hadn't had sex in three days. Then you whined that I forgot to cut off the crust on the sandwich and thought that I was upset with you. Then you whined when you realized that I wasn’t offended. Two days ago, you were whining that the sheets weren't soft enough.”
“In my defense, three and even two days without sex is a lot, cotton candy. You like tormenting me, right? Fuck, I’m so tired, I'm declaring a day off tomorrow.” He was rummaging through the shelves. “Where are my pants, cotton candy?” 
“Third shelf from the bottom!” She pointed to the closet and continued jumping. “Hah! You can't do anything without me. You can't even find your pants!”
“I can find everything. I lived somehow before you!” He squatted down and looked at the shelf. 
“Come on!” Catherine stopped jumping and crossed her arms. “You probably wore holey socks, walked around in dirty pants and ate something unknown. So since you have a day off tomorrow, maybe we can go for a walk tomorrow? I would hold your hand…” She made waves with her hands.
“I’ll think about it. Shit, I’m hungry!” He pulled on his pajama pants and turned to her. 
Catherine couldn't resist and jumped on him with her legs. "Then take me to the kitchen, my hero!" She ran her fingers over his stubble. “Is it difficult to put on a t-shirt?”
“I thought you missed this view too.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. She hugged him tightly around his neck, kicking her legs happily. 
Buggy carried Catherine into the kitchen, grumbling for her to stop moving her legs and kissing his nose, although he secretly adored these manifestations of her feelings, and her lively personality. She knew that he was just groaning and would never admit that he liked it. 
When they came to the kitchen, Catherine jumped off him and ran to the refrigerator. 
"Sit down and relax, my love! Look what I bought for you!" She took two bottles of beer from the fridge. "Your favorite!" 
"You are my best!" Buggy looked at her over his shoulder. 
Catherine put the bottles on the table for him, kissed him on his cheek and ran to the stove. "And I cooked your favorite mac and cheese!" She took out a plate and began serving him a portion. "I also baked almond cookies. I bet your fangirls don't care about you that much!" She giggled. 
“I don’t have fangirls, stop mocking me!” Buggy took a sip of beer. “I have enough of you pissing me off every time! Oh, by the way, I bought you a gift.” He detached his hand and sent it to the bag. “I couldn't leave you without a gift.” The hand brought a small package and gave it to Catherine's hand.
“I will never stop admiring your chop chop.” She smiled and carefully opened the package. “What's here? Raspberry marshmallows sticks, a bottle of wine. Yummy!! What is this?” She took out a small figurine of a bear sitting under a lilac bush. “Oh, my god! Buggy…”
“You told me how your father gave your mother lilacs. I saw this figurine and thought it would remind you of them. And I bought it. Ok, I stole it. Why are you looking at me like that?” Buggy asked with his mouth full, chewing pasta. 
“You remember the story. This figure is amazing! And also this little bear. It's you and my parents. Can I put this on the shelf in the bedroom?” Catherine looked at him with wet eyes. 
“Put it wherever you want.” 
“I'll put a figurine next to a picture of you and me. Thank you!” Catherine ran up to him, placed the plate on the table and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm glad that you remember my words even when I'm dressed, asshole. Love, love, love you!!” 
Catherine put the figurine on the table, plopped down on a chair next to Buggy, watched him happily wrap pasta on his fork and wash down his food with beer. She stroked his hair. "Tasty?" 
Buggy nodded, narrowed his eyes contentedly, and kissed her on the lips. 
“Don't come at me with your oily lips, clown!” Catherine wiped her mouth with a towel, hugged his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re finally home.” 
“Cathie-pie, my hand.” Buggy turned his head slightly towards her, looking at her questioningly. “How would I eat if you grabbed my hand?”
“I don't care! Think of something.” 
Buggy shrugged and separated the part of his hand that was holding the beer.
Catherine glanced at him. “Seriously? Instead of hugging me, you’re doing this?!” 
“What? I’m hungry.” Buggy wrapped the pasta around his fork. Slurping, he finished eating, threw his fork on the table and took a sip of beer. "Everything was delicious! Thank you!" Buggy looked at Catherine and put his hand on her shoulder. 
“You’re always welcome. Could you imagine, if you'd left me in the desert, you'd be eating nothing but breadcrumbs with water right now.” She kissed him on the nose. 
“Fuck! I didn't leave you! You will remember this to me for the rest of your life, right?” Buggy stretched. "Fuck, my back. I suggest we move to the couch." He took the beer and extended his hand to her. 
“Go to the living room, I’ll be right back, I’ll just put the plates in the dishwasher.” She gave him another peck on the nose and kicked him out into the living room. 
Catherine poured herself a glass of wine and went to Buggy, “My little bear, I’m coming to you! Let’s spe~..” She entered the living room and saw him lying on the sofa, quietly snoring. Catherine smiled, tiptoed over to the snuffling body, covered Buggy with a blanket and kissed him on the head. “Tired. Okay! I'll go to the bath then.” She whispered to herself. 
Catherine quietly went into the bedroom to get pajama pants and Buggy’s t-shirt, grabbed a glass of wine and went to the bathroom. She lit the candles, poured bath salts and added bubbles. Catherine took off her clothes and lay down in the hot water. She took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes, exhaling several times. She placed her hand on the edge of the bathtub and felt a hand on her arm. 
“Oh, shit!!” Catherine jumped slightly, opened her eyes and saw Buggy sitting next to her and looking at her. “I almost had a heart attack! What are you doing here? You were sleeping on the couch.” 
“You said that you would come to me. I opened my eyes, you weren’t there, and I went looking for you.” He blushed. 
“I knew you missed me!” Catherine narrowed her eyes playfully. 
“Fuck you! Yes, I missed you. Are you going to cut me into pieces for this? You know perfectly that you can slice me, you can dice me, and I~” Buggy let go of her hand. 
“What? No! Don't be offended!” Catherine took his hand and pulled him towards her, kissing him on the lips. Buggy started giggling during the kiss. Catherine pulled her head back. “What's so funny, clown?” 
“You're naked. I can see your breasts!” 
“Oh, God! Are you 10 years old?”
“Hey! I’m over 30! But I’m always happy to see you naked. And here you are lying in the bathtub. All so sexy.” Buggy started giggling again. 
“That’s it! Get out of here!” Catherine started pulling him out of the bathroom.
“But why? Can I sit next to you?” Buggy stared at her with pleading eyes. 
“Go away, fucking clown!” 
He sighed, stood up and walked out the door. 
“Buggy!” Catherine immediately shouted. 
“What?” His head looked into the bathroom. 
“Seriously? I can't believe you just up and left.” Catherine straightened one leg above the water and winked at him. “Would you like to join me?” 
“Two minutes ago you kicked me out, and now you’re calling me to join.” Buggy stood there in bewilderment. 
“Well, if you don’t want to, fine. You could touch my naked body.” She lightly touched him with her foot. 
“Oh, you’re a dirty girl, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy grinned, closed the door and quickly took off his pants and underwear. 
“Yes, I'm like that sometimes! But I still blame you for spoiling me.” Catherine looked him up and down, blushed, and moved to the other side of the bath. 
“Yeah, yeah, a bad horny clown spoiled a decent little princess.” Buggy sat down in the bath, and she immediately leaned her back against his chest. 
“Ts! I didn't give you permission to talk!” Catherine gently ran her fingertips along his cheek and, feeling that he placed his arms around her waist, put her hands on his arms. “Do you remember the rules that I introduced after last time?” 
“Yes, ma'am.” Buggy buried his face in her hair and sighed. 
“What happened, little bear?” She started stroking his fingers.  
“Nothing. Glad to be home. Glad that someone is waiting for me at home. Glad I'm not alone anymore.” He mumbled into her hair. 
“I’ll always wait f~!” Catherine's eyes widened as she felt one of his hands slowly begin to move down to her thigh. "What are you doing? Take your hand back!" She grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. “Don't break the rules, Buggy! No chop chop things in this room! Or I’ll leave, and you’ll remain a grown man taking a bubble bath.”
“So unfair!” Buddy said sadly. “You're lying with me completely naked! I see your breasts! Your nip~!” 
Catherine covered his mouth with her hand. “Shush! Stop saying these inappropriate things!” 
Buggy removed her hand from his mouth and watched as she blushed when he started whispering in her ear. Her eyes widened. 
“No! We won’t do anything! We’re taking a bath. Rules, Buggy!” There was already less confidence in Catherine's voice. “And keep your.. your.. you know.. little Buggy with you.” She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. 
“You've never complained about him before! And he’s not little!” There was indignation in his voice. 
“Oh, I knew you'd pick up on that, pervert!” 
“I'm offended to the core, cotton candy. Well, tell me, what did you do without me?” Buggy asked quietly. 
“Hm.. I went to the cinema, walked, sat in a cafe with a book and lay on the couch. And what did you do?” Catherine asked softly. She liked listening to his stories about everything and nothing, listening to how his days were spent. 
“Well, we rehearsed a lot. I played cards with Cabaji. Won a bottle of beer. He often asks about you. I do not like it.” Buggy pouted.
“Someone is jealous!!” Catherine pressed her back closer. 
“I’m not!” 
“You're so jealous that you will turn even more gray with anger. He's just happy for you. That's all.” Catherine straightened her leg slightly. "Great, huh?" 
Buggy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly? Your beautiful legs or your naked body?” 
“No, asshole. Just lie there together.” 
“Not so bad.” Buggy took her hand and kissed it. “I love you, my Cathie-pie.” 
Catherine turned around and looked at him with round eyes. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He kissed her hand again.
“You… You just said 'I love you' ahead of me for the first time.” Catherine ran her finger along his arm. 
“Hey, I always tell you this!”
“You tell me this when we are... Well, you know. In bed. When you are... Well, you know. But at these moments you are a little crazy.” She stroked his cheek. “Love you too. And I’m so happy I met you.” 
“Well, I'll thank myself for that. I'll thank myself for finding you.” Buggy said it with a proud grin and kissed her temple. 
“You didn't find me. I was brought to you.” She squeezed his hand.
“It still counts, cotton candy. You've succumbed to my charm.” 
Catherine rolled her eye. “Oh, for God's sake, there was no charm! You pissed me off!”
“I beg to differ, you're the one who stayed with me, and now you're lying naked with me in the bathtub.” Buggy kissed her temple again.
“Oh, fuck you, clown! Well, tell me who else you took a bath with. There were probably a lot of girls here. But do you remember? If you don't want to, don't tell me.” Catherine twirled a strand of his hair around her finger.
“There was no one here. Who will take a bath with me? The tub stood almost idle until someone pretty and cheerful occupied it. And I didn’t wash very often.” Buggy shrugged. 
“Yes, I noticed. You rarely do this even now, sometimes I have to remind you to wash yourself.”
“I'm surprised that you willingly lie here with me. Do you remember when I brought you from the airport?” Buggy reddened. 
“And you immediately dragged me into the bedroom, I remember.”
“Hey, you didn't mind. Our first time was good then, right?” He sighed happily. “I will probably remember this day even on my deathbed.” 
Catherine glanced at Buggy and took another strand of his hair. “Do you even remember anything besides sex? Don't know. Our walks in the evenings, how you constantly steal the flowers for me.”
“Sorry, your naked body and moans knock the rest of the moments out of my memory.” He giggled. 
“Idiot and liar. So... You wanted to say something.” Catherine felt how his hands started trembling a little. 
“Well, in the morning I woke up, and to be honest, I thought that you had already packed your things and ran to the airport. Don't know. Realizing that that was your big mistake. But I saw you sleeping next to me, holding my hand. It was so strange. And it's still strange.” Buggy felt he became nervous and felt how Catherine started stroking his palm. 
“First of all, clown, I wouldn't go anywhere. I'm sorry, but you did such a thing to me that it was hard to walk. Secondly, I love you. Third, thank you for telling me this. I’m so proud of you.” She ran her fingertips along his stubble. “You are so prickly. I like it.”
Catherine stretched out her leg and tried to grab the washcloth with her fingers, but went under the water. She quickly surfaced and laughed loudly. “Damn! I thought it would be sexy, but I’m like a manatee on ice.” 
“You okay?” Buggy pulled her closer.
“Totally.” Catherine took a lock of his hair. "So long and beautiful. Oh, I want to wash your hair!"
Buggy looked at her questioningly. “No! I can wash my hair myself.”
“Ple-e-ease! You're tired from the road! You never let me do this!” Catherine looked at him with pleading eyes. 
“I said no!” 
“And I said yes!” She reached for the shampoo, stood up and heard him chuckle. “What amused you again?” 
“You're all naked.” Buggy scratched his nose. “Your body. So much better than I even remembered.” 
“Oh m~. Stop grabbing my ass!” She slapped his hands, sat behind him and wet his hair. “Shit! I can swim in your bathtub like a whale. See?” Catherine lay down in the water, spun around twice and laughed loudly. “Why do you need such a huge one?” 
Buggy laughed as he watched her splash her hands in the water. “Well, I was hoping that one day I would end up here with a very beautiful red-haired whale who would fill all surfaces with fucking scented candles and oils, and would torture me in every possible way.”
“It's not torment, clown. It's called caring. I like taking care of you. And I saw you smelling my candles.” Catherine settled behind him and let his hair down.
Buggy exhaled heavily. 
“What happened, little bear?” 
“Nothing. I'm still surprised that someone doesn't run away from me early in the morning. That I see someone in the morning dishevelled and wearing stupid pants with animals on them.” He closed his eyes. 
“This someone in pants is also very happy to see you nearby.” Catherine wet his hair, poured some shampoo into her hand, and gently ran it through Buggy’s hair. "If it's unpleasant, tell me." She washed each strand carefully, and humming softly, she noticed a slight smile on his face. She gently massaged his head and then ran her hands through the strands. Every time Catherine wet his hair, it changed to a more emerald shade. She couldn't contain her delight and kept saying “wow”. She gently ran her hands through his hair, untangling small tangles with her fingers and rinsed them again.
“It was worth going away for a couple of days for that.” Buggy chuckled. He sat with his eyes closed and a slight grin on his face.
“I'm done with your hair, my love. Now let's wash your face. Can I?” She watched him make a face, but nodded. She took some lotions from the shelf and sat on his lap. Buggy chuckled as she began to gently rub the moistened pad over her face. 
“What's so funny?” 
“You're sitting on me naked.” Buggy wrapped his arms around her waist. 
“You’re disgusting!” Catherine immediately began wiping his lips. “That's it! Shut your dirty mouth!” She gently moved the discs over his face, removing layer by layer of all his makeup. “Here you are! Hi!” 
“Hi.”
Catherine couldn't resist and kissed him on the lips. He immediately pulled her closer. 
“I missed you.” She kissed his forehead and wrinkled her nose slightly.
“Same thing.” Buggy answered in a whisper. 
“Okay, it’s time to get out of the bath. Let's lie on the couch, drink alcohol, eat chips, and watch stupid shows. Good, huh? I’ll just rinse off in the shower.” Catherine kissed him on his cheek. 
“And what about me?” Buggy looked at her questionably.
“And you go to the shower stall, clown. Otherwise, our joint bath will end badly.” Catherine blushed.
“You understand that this day will end like this anyway?” He winked at her. 
“Get out!” She gently pushed him out of the bath. 
Buggy took a brief shower to ensure he did not miss anything and sat next to the tub, keeping his gaze on Catherine.
She took out a washcloth and shower gel and, stretching her leg again, began to slowly move the washcloth along her leg. 
“God, this is such a turn on!” He said quietly.
Catherine noticed how he began to fidget. “Like it?” She winked. 
“You're playing a dangerous game, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy tried to hold on by crossing one leg over the other leg. “Please, can I join?”
“Na-ah! Just watch, don't touch!” She bit her lower lip, narrowed her eyes playfully, and continued moving the washcloth.
“It's unfair! Do you even understand what you're doing, woman?” He swallowed. “Please! I wanna join and help you!” 
“Someone is going to die.” Catherine slowly moved the washcloth along her other leg. “Patience, my silly clown!” She ran the washcloth over her arms and back, periodically glancing at how Buggy became redder and tried his best to hide his quickening breathing.
Catherine quickly rinsed off and was about to grab a towel when she felt Buggy’s hand on her wrist. "Hey! What the hell is this?" 
Catherine slowly turned around and saw Buggy climbing into her bathtub. “You've already taken off your panties, you scoundrel. What about rules?”
“I don't use chop chop, see?” He showed her his hands, pressing his entire naked body lightly against hers. “Technically, I'm not breaking anything.”
Catherine placed one foot on the edge of the tub and ran her fingertips through the hair on his chest. “Did someone lose their temper, huh?” 
“Because one little shit is behaving badly.” Buggy kissed her on the lips and felt her hand run down his stomach. “Very, very badly.”
“Stop talking, fucking clown. I'm standing here nak~.” She didn’t have time to finish the sentence.
Catherine swifty wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her into a searing, biting kiss. The growl in his throat grew louder with each passing second. 
“Oh, fuck! I missed you!” Buggy said in a low, husky voice. His hands gripped her hips and shifted her up. Catherine gasped into his kiss, which shifted from soft and tender to passionate very quickly.
“I knew that, a little creep!” She leaned forward, gripped his bottom lip between her teeth, and gave him a rough, biting kiss. Catherine felt it. Felt that she wanted to lose control in the tension of his arms as he held her. 
She moaned through the kiss when Buggy thrust up into her. One long, fast stroke that made her feel like she was breaking into little pieces. His hands gripped her at the hips tighter and moved her up and down. With every stroke of him, they were getting closer to the pleasure they both desired. Every movement made her arch and moan like a cat. Catherine found herself kissing and biting at every single inch of his skin. Buggy’s lips nibbled at every part of her body that he could reach, causing tiny bruises on her skin as their breathing and movements got increasingly chaotic with each upward stroke. Buggy arched up into her, unable to stop himself. His fingers pressed into the skin of her hips, an animalistic sound pouring forth from him, as she pressed further down. His name was the only word on her lips. 
“Say it. Say you’re mine,” Buggy thrust deeper, and she whined at the feeling of him inside her. She’d known he belonged there from the first time she’d taken him in herself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.” 
Catherine breathed and kissed him. “I promise, you can’t lose me. I’m yours.” 
“Tell me,” with his every word, his every move became more aggressive. “Tell me only I can protect you, that only I can take care of you. Say it.” 
“You can protect me,” Catherine looked into his eyes, placing her hands on the back of his head. “Only you can take care of me, I promise.” She kissed him. 
“Let me love you,” Buggy fucked her deep, hard, greedy. “Say it. Tell me that only I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.” 
“You can love me. It's safe. I never hurt you. I promise.” She could barely say anything, pulling him closer. 
Buggy moaned against her lips and fucked her, never slowing down, making her orgasm never really go away. He kissed her, pressed down deeply inside her then, causing her back to arch and her legs to tighten around his hips. 
She moaned near his lips. “I need to feel you, please, please..” 
“You’re mine, Cathie-pie.” He kissed her again, started fucking her a little harder and faster, driving the pleasure closer.
“I’m so close, don't stop.” Catherine felt him press deeply and pulse inside her, stimulating her orgasm. “Just a little mo~. A lit~. Fuck…” 
Buggy let out one deep groan, feeling they came together, his body went slack for a moment before, and he buried his face in the crock of her neck. He was silent for a while.
“You okay?” Catherine asked, stroking his head. She felt every beat of his heart. 
“Yeah. Fuck, it was great, right?” He kissed her forehead. 
“Are you asking for a compliment, a little brat?” Catherine said mockingly and pecked him on his lips. 
“Are you sure you're okay? Didn't I hurt you?” Buggy examined her body carefully.
“Why are you asking? What happened?” Catherine stroked his shoulder.
“I don't know. I feel like I overdid a little.”
“Well, you were extremely talkative today. But everything was amazing.” She noticed his worried eyes. “What's wrong, Buggy? Are you worried about something?” 
“No! I mean yes. Tell me you meant all that.” He said quietly and looked into her eyes.
“What? Are you still afraid of s~.”
“Cathie-pie, please.” 
“Of course, my blue-haired love.” Catherine gently kissed him on his lips. “I meant every word. I promise. You can protect me. I know you will protect me. Come on, you saved me from the cage! And I won't hurt you. And I won't leave you. And you're safe with me. And you know why?” She stroked his hair. “Because I love you so, so much, my Buggy Bear.”
“Love you too, my cotton candy. Hey, listen... Can I ask a question?” 
“I guess the fact that you're still inside me doesn't give me the right to refuse?” She chuckled. “Ask me anything you want.” She ran her fingers over his stubble. 
“I’m hungry again, and I missed your pancakes. Will you make me some?”
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frozenambiguity · 6 months
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Kaeya 🤝 Furina
playing their role in a never-ending performance.
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moe-broey · 11 months
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KNIFE RESTORED!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
I had like. Beach sand. Stuck in it for like two years and I just. Didn't do anything about it until now HAHAHAHA I read up on how to deal w it but I was unsure about it and then I forgor
But I got some advice and guidance from the friend who gave me it after reconnecting, so!!!!!! PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH 💕💖💗💞💕💖💗💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!
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“Trick-or-treat!!”
“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 
“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”
Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 
The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”
“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.
“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 
The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”
He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 
“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”
“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 
You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”
“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 
“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”
“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.
“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.
To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.
However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  
Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.
Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 
There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.
“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 
“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.
“Why him?” They said in unison.
“Why not??” You question their irritation.
“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.
You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 
“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 
“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 
You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—
DING-DONG!!
Now.
Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”
You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.
Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 
One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 
But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?
“Ya awake now?”
You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 
It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?
You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“
“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”
“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”
“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 
“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 
You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”
“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”
And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”
“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”
Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”
Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.
“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 
“Still traumatized from that one time?” 
“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”
The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”
“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”
“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”
“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”
“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”
More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”
“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 
You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”
“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”
Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”
“Mmm.”
Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.
That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.
“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”
He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”
It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“
“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…
“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.
He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 
And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!
“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”
“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”
He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.
“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 
“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”
Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 
“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”
One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.
His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.
You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—
CLACK-CLINK!!
The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.
“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”
“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 
“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.
You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 
But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”
You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 
“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”
And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 
You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.
You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 
With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”
Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.
After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 
…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.
“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  
“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”
“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.
“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.
“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.
He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 
Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 
The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 
With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?
“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”
“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.
When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?
“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”
You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 
“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 
“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.
Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.
“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 
As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 
“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 
“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”
Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 
How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.
Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 
Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.
“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.
“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”
“Yup, that’s what happened.” 
This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.
It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.
When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.
The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 
“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 
“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 
“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 
“Will do.”He whistles. 
“And Toji?”
The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 
And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”
You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?
“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 
“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”
“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 
You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”
“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 
“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”
Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 
An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 
You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.
“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.
“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“
“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.
“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.
“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”
“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”
You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.
“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”
“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 
Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 
Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”
“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”
You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
22K notes · View notes
lamboficarus · 1 month
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does anyone else have an issue applying the right amount of pressure required to pick up things or is that just me . like ive just. been this way. is this normal or
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sophiasrant · 5 months
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hc that no one on the JL (or any of the teams) will let bats do the heavy lifting, ever
Like one day they need to carry an unconscious Flash after a battle and someone else (who has a broken arm) is like “who is well enough that they can carry him” and Batman, ceo of ignoring his injuries™️, is like “I got this” but his mouth starts leaking blood while he’s carrying flash. Superman (who was holding up a building) x-rays him & is like “YOU HAVE THREE BROKEN RIBS AND INTERNAL BLEEDING. WHY ARE YOU CARRYING FLASH?” “…I am well enough to carry flash”
anyway this applies to all bats. Someone asks if someone else can volunteer to help them lift something and, no matter what, Kon puts his hand over Tim’s mouth bc of the broken leg incident™️. Tim will never even be allowed a chance to make a case or attempt to answer the call.
Someone asks if Robin can help to carry something and Jon immediately replies “no he can’t. I’ll do it tho.” bc Damian once tried to conduct cleanup (lifting pieces of broken buildings and concrete) post alien-invasion with a stab wound (it was multiple stab wounds but only Jon figured that out)
Someone asks nightwing if he can carry stuff to the car and all of a sudden you have eight people shouting “NO” bc he once offered to carry someone’s old 60 pound box TV to storage while he had a gunshot wound. They only learned about the gunshot wound after he fainted & the tv fell on top of him.
Jason leaves before anyone can ask him to help with anything
Edit:
Steph and Cass fight over who carries the thing for the other person, but usually neither of them volunteer. They're gone the second the battle is over. Babs never has to carry shit even if it's a loaf of bread because she goes "wow, really? have the wheelchair bound girl carry shit for you, sure" so the person stammers and she gets away with it every single time.
Duke is allowed to carry things. (Other teams have yet to find out about his injuries.) In fact, they compliment him on being responsible enough to not over-exert himself. He smiles back. (He's trying not to laugh.)
8K notes · View notes
bucketsofmonsters · 4 months
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A Diplomatic Error
cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
male orc x fem reader
Word count: 9k
You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say. 
Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him. 
The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town. 
So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing. 
It didn’t. It just felt lonely. 
As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth. 
When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.
You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape. 
You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright. 
Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.
You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step. 
It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now. 
His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.
“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter. 
He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.
“As you wish.”
Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere. 
You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on. 
You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder. 
Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face. 
You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand. 
In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here. 
Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest. 
As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.
As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue. 
And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.  
You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”
You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.
You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went. 
You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you. 
The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you. 
He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch. 
“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud. 
You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road. 
“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”
“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.   
Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”
“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”
He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”
You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”
You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily. 
You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center. 
He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty. 
When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something. 
He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when. 
Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face. 
As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken. 
Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier. 
But anger was good. At least anger felt productive. 
You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was. 
The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled. 
“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice. 
You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you. 
His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again. 
“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”
You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape. 
The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible. 
And then you were on the move. 
You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you. 
Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.
After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence. 
“You’re slow.”
“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts. 
“And who is to blame for that?”
You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”
“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt. 
“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”
He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out. 
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did. 
Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. 
You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down. 
It seemed you were wrong. 
Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp. 
Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots. 
You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm. 
You did not listen. 
Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so. 
As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you. 
He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”
“What?”
“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”
“It’s a river.”
He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”
“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”
He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”
You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way. 
You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses. 
You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this. 
You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed. 
At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance. 
You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”
“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”
He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”
“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”
He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts. 
“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively. 
Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”
And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water. 
The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean. 
You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water. 
You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.
When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left. 
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind? 
No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you. 
You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones. 
As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found. 
In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt. 
Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know. 
You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now. 
They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly. 
As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here. 
But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down. 
As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape. 
You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off. 
You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors. 
As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting. 
You were faster this way. That was what counted. 
You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.
“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”
A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest. 
Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now. 
You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again. 
Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet. 
It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke. 
“Do you have a name?”
“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers. 
“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.
He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return. 
His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying. 
When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance. 
The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off. 
Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you. 
He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”
“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”
He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”
“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”
“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”
So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat. 
He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far. 
He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn. 
You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.
If you were saved.  
You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls. 
Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke. 
As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”
You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first. 
“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”
You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now. 
“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears. 
You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you. 
The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”
“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”
The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”
“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.
“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”
“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”
With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent. 
After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat. 
That was it. There was no one coming. 
He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings. 
“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked. 
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”
“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”
“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?
Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”
Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”
“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”
You shrugged. “You could kill me.”
“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”
He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more. 
It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt. 
But even if you’d shut down, the world had not. 
And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent. 
He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore. 
You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them? 
As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?
You wanted answers. 
You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath. 
You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”
He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”
You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.
You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again. 
“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”
“I will not fight for you,” you spat.
“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”
He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor. 
You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.  
You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar. 
“What was that?”
“An attacker. A foolish little man.”
You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’
“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I told them.”
You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”
“Your people didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”
You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them. 
You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running. 
It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go. 
Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace. 
You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way. 
You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity. 
Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”
“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”
“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.
You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”
“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”
Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given. 
“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked. 
“It is not just. I will not kill you.”
“So what now?”
“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.  
“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”
“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”
Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”
“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”
You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”
“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”
“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”
“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”
“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”
“You know that’d not what I mean.”
“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”
You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”
He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”
You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave. 
This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run. 
As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent. 
You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did. 
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before. 
You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to. 
As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway. 
You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent. 
He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”
He froze, his shoulders tensing.
You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”
“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head. 
“How could you know?”
He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”
You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far. 
“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”
He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent. 
“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”
Oh. 
The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes
You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.” 
He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”
“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”
Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.” 
“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”
His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”
He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”
You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way. 
“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him. 
“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.
“About my intention to court you.” 
You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice. 
“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”
You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”
He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.
“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor. 
Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast. 
And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether. 
It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed. 
He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 
He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.
But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.
He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”
You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”
He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”
He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”
That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”
You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship. 
While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you. 
As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth. 
He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds. 
His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him. 
His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you. 
Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto. 
His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did. 
As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts. 
You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent. 
You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face. 
You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming. 
You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”
He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”
He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.
It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal. 
No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust. 
And then, as it went further and further, it became too much, 
You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm. 
He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you. 
You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you. 
You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did. 
He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”
You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily. 
So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared. 
“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him. 
He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.
His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone. 
As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight. 
He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come. 
His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him. 
He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest. 
You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you. 
He didn’t seem to care at all.
“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears. 
“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”
You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend. 
But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it. 
“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.
He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”
You snorted. 
“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him. 
“You reject that fool's advances.”
You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”
“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”
That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”
He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”
You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”
“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”
You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?” 
You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.
He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.
Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”
“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”
He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”
You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
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ladadiida · 7 months
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.
or,
you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!
𝐰𝐜 11.3k
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"There you are."
Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.
He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.
"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.
You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.
An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."
"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."
"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.
"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.
Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.
"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.
However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."
Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"
"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.
Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.
On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.
You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.
Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.
It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.
You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.
"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.
Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"
A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.
Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.
Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.
You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.
Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.
Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.
It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.
The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."
You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.
"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.
His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."
In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"
"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."
You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"
"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."
"Maybe I can—"
"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.
"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.
Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.
Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"
A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"
His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."
He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.
You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.
With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.
"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."
A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.
Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"
Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"
"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.
"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"
"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.
"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.
The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."
Zeff took a deep, tired breath.
"Oh, they're ringing alright."
You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.
Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.
The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.
Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.
Or so you thought.
You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?
So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.
The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.
Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.
Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.
You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.
You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.
And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.
You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.
"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.
You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."
Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"
"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"
With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.
Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.
"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.
"Now I do."
Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.
You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"
"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."
Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.
You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"
Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.
"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.
Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.
"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."
He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."
You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"
Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"
You nodded. "I don't like it."
He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"
"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.
A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."
Oh.
Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."
He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.
But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."
Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.
"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.
"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.
Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"
Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.
But the answer was simple.
"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.
And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.
He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"
"Why not me?"
Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.
More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"
Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.
"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."
You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."
"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.
You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.
However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.
Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.
He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.
Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.
Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.
Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.
Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.
When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.
He doesn't.
⸻ • ⸻
"Are you really going to leave?"
Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.
"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.
Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."
You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.
The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."
You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."
"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.
Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.
And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.
You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.
Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?
You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.
"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.
"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"
A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?
"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."
Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.
Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."
Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.
He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.
As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.
In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.
He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.
Sanji almost dropped the plate.
It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.
He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.
You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.
"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.
That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.
You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"
"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.
"Sanji!"
He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.
Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"
It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.
Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.
"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.
He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."
That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.
Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.
You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.
He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.
Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.
A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.
You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.
Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.
"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."
"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.
Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."
The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.
You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.
Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.
The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.
But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.
"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.
You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.
"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.
Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."
You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"
He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."
The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.
It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.
As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.
"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.
The realization began to sink in.
Oh.
You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."
Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.
"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.
"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."
When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."
"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.
"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."
"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.
He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."
"No..."
"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.
"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.
However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."
You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."
"Even with me by your side?"
A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."
Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."
The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"
"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.
"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.
Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.
Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"
"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.
"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.
You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"
Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.
He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.
You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.
⸻ • ⸻
The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.
But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.
"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.
You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."
"I will."
"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.
You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"
He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.
"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"
Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"
When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."
"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.
Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.
It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.
⸻ • ⸻
The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.
A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"
You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."
The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."
"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.
Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.
Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.
You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.
You missed Sanji and everything that he was.
You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.
Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.
"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.
"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."
You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.
Sanji.
As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.
How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,
"There you are, ange."
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taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo
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ridingthatd · 4 months
Text
𝄞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤
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`• sukunaxfem!reader, nanamixfem!reader, gojoxfem!reader, getoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, bdsm, multiple orgasm, over simulation, brain fucked, kinky, filthy •`
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𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧. sukuna wasn't someone you can mess with easily. he wasn't amused by anything. the only thing that he was obsessed with were his weapons. his guns. his bullets. his bombs. his knifes. but his other obsession happens to be you. he was so fucked up. he was into a lot of fucked up shit. using the handle of his knife to fuck your ass. while he pound his fat cock into your tight cunt. he would go to as much as slicing his palm with the knife that was up your tight little hole. just to grab it and push it deeper inside of you. not caring about the blood that was dripping down his hand. spreading your ass cheeks with his bloody hands. while shoving his pierced tongue deep inside your throat. mixing his spit with yours. after all he was a maniac.
a maniac for you.
𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨. nanami was the type of guy. who would give of gentleman vibes. when you first meet him. he doesn't speak much. only grunts and nodes. but his actions spoke a lot. gently holding your cold hand into his rough huge ones. carrying you in his masculine arms. that were coated with tattoos. you would never tell how rough nanami was while fucking you. placing you on his face. sitting directly on his big nose. making you ride it. while roughly slapping your ass. abusing it till it's barely recognizable. and he wont let you stop. slamming you into his big nose. till your liquid is gushing all over his face.
nanami didn't speak a lot. but he touched a lot.
𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮. gojo didn't give a fuck. he didn't care about people's eyes. he didn't care about what people thought. because he knew they were under his feets. he didn't care about fucking you in public. having you sit on his lap with your tiny little skirt on at the club. just to unzip his pants. and grab his ragging tattooed cock. yes he had a tattoo on his long cock. it was the a symbol of your name. and his. he would shove it up your already drenched cunt. that was already filled with his cum. that he fucked into you in the car on the way here. bouncing you on his cock. not caring that everyone knows. sneaking his hand under your bra. just to grope your tits. pinching your nipples between his fingers. over simulating you. till you make a mess all over his suit pants. all over the seats you sat on. all over his cock.
and he was also a mess for you.
𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮. geto was a soft men. an emotional men. that wasn't ashamed of showing his emotions. whenever he's sad or anxious. he would cuddle you all day. slowly slipping his cock inside of you. not moving. just keeping it warm. while you sleep together. pushing your shirt over your head just to suckle on your lips while he keep his cock warm inside of you. but he also got another mood. whenever he's angry. he would fuck you. till you're crying. pushing you hard against the showers wall. just to shove his angry pierced tip inside of you. not caring if you had time to adjust. tearing his cock through your pussy. just to slip out. and have you on your knees. taking him deep down your throat. feeling his pierced tip. hit the back of your throat. he liked it this way.
and he liked you this way.
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and this how you got here. chained up their meeting desk. both of yours legs forcibly spread apart by a chain. just like your hands. you were completely naked under their gaze. they were eyeing you just like a prey.
two small nipple clumps sucker were placed on your breast. pumping on your red sensitive nipples. it was to much. to much. it's like your nipples were being sucked by an inhuman force. they for sure put the pumpers on full speed.
you can hear wet sloppy sounds. sounds from them stroking their fat cocks at the sight of you. it made you even more horny. knowing they're standing their. cocks out. pumping it with their huge vieny hands just like the pumper is pumping your nipples.
you sway your hips, trying to get away from the cold metal that was being slowly shoved up your ass. whimpering, throat dry from how much you have been screaming.
"shh it's okay you filthy slut, you're going to like what daddy is about to feed your tight little ass" sukuna coo at you. in awe at the way your tight ass eagerly sucked in the cold plug that he gave you. his cock was so fucking hard. pants down- still in his suit. but his cock was out, hitting his abdomen. leaking on his abs.
you twitch taking it all in, you can feel inside it your tummy- so filled. and what had you in tears was that they didn't touch your pussy. they're tutoring you. simulating everything but your pussy. letting the cold air hit your wet cunt, but not filling it with their cocks that you were so desperate for. no. they were just stroking them in front of your body- your face.
sukuna place another cold metal. and another and another one follows. your eyes widen as your realise it was bullets- he was shoving bullets up your ass without mercy. your eyes roll back as hot arousal drips down your pussy. your empty pussy.
your eyes catch nanami. as he makes his way toward your face. you stick your tongue out. droll spilling down yours red puffy lips. that had nanami groaning. his hair messly place on his heated face. precum leaking down his pinkish red huge tip. tripped blondish hair was placed on his heavy balls.
"how can I deny my little baby?" nanami horsely mutters. as he shove his fat cock inside your mouth. hitting the back of your throat without any warning. his eyes rolling back at the squishy feeling of the your throat. he doesn't give you time to adjust either once he pull out and plugs his cock bain in. in full force. your chocking sounds full the room. as nanami grabs your hair, pushing your face harder into his fat cock. your lips brushing against his balls.
groans soon after fill the air. as the other three of his friends. place their cocks on your warm skin. sliding their wet cock on your warm skin. your body trembles. as you feel nanami whimpering before he spurt his boiling seeds deep down your throat. you felt like it will come out of your nose.
his friends soon follow, spilling hot shoots of their cum on your body. not finishing. till it was painted with their cum. you cry out as you squirt out finally after an hour of simulation. your body arch. the pumper is still sucking on your nipples. making your orgasm even harder. seeing black and white spots.
you didn't fully recover. but they didn't care. because you feel sukuna grabbing his huge cock that had a straight line of cold piercings starting from the tip of his shift. and ending at his heavy balls. the feeling of having his piercings caresses the tight walls of your pussy. you want it do bad.
"please- daddy please please" you whine. begging him to fuck you. begging to tear your desperate pussy. to feed it his fat cock.
"tch, someone need to plug her throat again. she's being a whiney bitch" he tsks at you. grinning from ear to ear. at your pathetic little state. before he shoves his pierced cock inside of you. hitting your womb directly. and you completely black out.
your eyes flutter open. pussy stuffed. it was teared. ripped with two fat cocks that were maniacally going in-out of your wet cunt. your ears were filled with squashy sounds that your pussy made. while your mouth was behind abused by also two cocks. reaching the back of your throat. rubbing on your tongue before fully going back in.
"looks like our sweet slut is finally awake" geto moans out as you feel the piercing that was on the tip of his cock, hit your throat. your eyes roll back making eyes contact with gojo. gojo who had his cock shoved deep your throat, next to his friends. his own cock rubbing against getos cock. mixing their precum together.
you glance down at your nipples. feeling a familiar tingly feeling. just to see them still being pumped.
even though your cunt was scratched out to the max with nanamis and sukunas cock. you still were sucking their cocks in. holding their cocks so tightly. it had them going animalistic. huffing and groaning. drooling into your skin.
the only thing that filled their mind. was the need to breed you. fill you so full of their seeds. "you fucking filthy." shove. "little". shove. " whore". shove.
sukuna growls out. going crazy. so drunk on your pussy that he completely lost his sense. he doesn't care if he dies like this. he doesn't care if he kills you like this. all he wants right now is to gush his hot cum inside your gready little pussy.
the harshness of sukunas cock also made nanami go crazy. with the way his fat cock was rubbing against his cock. it created to much simulation. your tight pussy sucked them together. he wanted to whine.he wanted to whimper. but he bit into your thighs instead. tasting your blood against his tongue from how hard his bite was.
"em going to fucking cum" gojo moans out. his hips were shaking. you can feel his cock twitching against your throat. tip leaking ready to spill. but nanami does it before him. a loud whimper left him as he pumps his fat cock one last time inside you before he gushing his white liquid out. your eyes crossed. enjoying the feeling of his cum. filling your tummy.
geto soon follows him. coating gojos cock that was next to his with cum. you didn't even realise you were drooling till now. as your spit hit gojos tattooed balls. and that seems to do it for him. because you feel another shoot of cum being gushed down your throat. feeling sweat salty taste of it.
your eyes cross as you feel nanami long fingers stroke your red puffy clit. throwing you to the edge as sukuna keep hitting your womb with his pierced cock. you body had never felt pleasure like this before. you scream, your cunt making an embarrassing loud wet sound before you squirt all your liquid out. the bullets that sukuna shoved up your tight ass, slipping out one by one in the process.
feeling your orgasm mixed with your pee being sprayed on sukunas abs seem to finally trigger him. causing him to let out the tiniest whine before he pulls his cock out and gush his white cum on your stomach. the same stomach he promise to put a baby in.
"I think I'm about to cum again" gojo groans out.
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: ̗̀➛ for part 1 click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
: ̗̀➛ for part 3 click 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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shaisuki · 10 months
Text
“c'mere megumi. i know you're tired.”
gojo calls out to him but the boy ignores him and continued to walk.
“he won't satoru. you traumatized him.” you quipped at him.
teleportation is fun and all but not to a fourth-grader megumi who got almost dropped mid-air from the teleportation skill gojo have, only to catch him mid-air before he truly drops.
“i catched him before he fell.” the white-haired male pouts.
“catched him before he fell?” scoffing at him. “he's a child, satoru. think before you do something to him. you almost endangered him with your antics and you can't do whatever you please when you want. you're an ass and you know it.” you spat at him and gojo pouts and he's like a child kneeling down while being scolded.
you crouched down to meet the height of megumi. patting his head and you began to speak in a soft voice. “i'll carry you, okay? i promise no funny business.” drawing a cross in your chest to convince megumi. the poor child is sleepy and fighting the urge to not sleep caused by the earlier wrongdoing of an pre-adult.
deciding to trust you, megumi comes closer to you and puts his arms around your neck before carrying his small body in front of you. your arms tucked under his thighs and it turns to snuggle you. his jaw in your shoulder.
megumi blankly stares at the adult behind you. immature, he thought but his eyes are getting heavy and sleep is calling to him. before his eyes closed he reminds himself not to be carried by that weird man.
it took a few seconds before the child snuggling in you fell asleep. you can tell from the lack of movements of his body and the small snores. patting his back before continuing to walk.
gojo followed you. he felt bad and it was like a punch to him in the gut when you scold him but he likes it. loves it when your cheeks puff and your eyes rolling at him in annoyance.
stopping at a bakery to get a few sweets to satisfy his sweet tooth and for the siblings to eat back home. you continued to walk, enjoying the little peace and quiet before a old lady approached at you three.
“oh my! what a cute family.” the old lady commented and your eye twitched at the comment. giving the lady a smile before briefly bowing.
taken a back at the sudden statement before gojo burst out in a laughter. “she called us a family, (y/n).”
“ha-ha-ha. funny.” you dryly responds to him and adjusting your arm to make megumi comfortably settle in you. the child is completely passed out in your grasp and you can't help but to kiss megumi's wild hair in which megumi groans before going back to sleep.
“aww, come on. i didn't mean it, okay?” gojo whines, blocking your way as he walked backwards to meant he really is sorry.
“okay.” you replied back to him. “just don't do it again.”
“okay!” he beams up and once again silence filled in the long way of walking.
dusk is beginning to settle down and the sky turns into orange. the sunlight giving it's final rays before the night falls.
“kind of you to take them both, satoru.” you break the silence and gojo hums. thinking about something.
despite gojo's stubbornness and his lack of tact in things, you like that he's willing to help the children to have a roof over their head and spoiled them like it's his own. even preventing megumi to be taken away from his clan and let him have a normal childhood with his sister.
“say, (y/n). what if we adopt them both?” gojo asks you.
“we? and adopt?” gojo nods. waiting for your answer. “i think it's fine. these two will have two guardians to look them over if the other one's not around and in case something's happen to one of us.”
“don't say that, (y/n).”
you raised an eyebrow at him and smiled.
“it's inevitable, satoru. in this line of work we have.” you said to him. referring how dangerous the jujutsu society is and you'll never know what the future may hold.
“i'll protect you. us”" his bright blue eyes peeking through his dark glasses with sincerity. looking at you and megumi sleeping in your arms.
“satoru....” you call him and his eyes full of sincerity.
“that's nice, satoru.” you smile at him but the expression in his face is anticipating something more.
“i know you will, satoru.” and he grins. pressing a tender kiss in your forehead and patting megumi's head. “stop that, sato. you'll wake him up and don't get too sappy with me. it's not you.” he pouts at that but kisses you again.
he can't wait to be with you forever.
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