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#Join the Hearts: We Have Uniforms
ikkaku-of-heart · 1 month
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"If Nami joins the Heart Pirates, she gets access to all the treasure under the ocean, high-tech navigational equipment for mapping undersea currents, a loving polar bear friend, and access to my library of monster erotica. And that's just the tip of the perk iceberg."
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augustinewrites · 11 months
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does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭
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“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 
“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 
“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.
“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 
“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.
“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”
“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 
with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 
“satoru, please don’t freak out—”
he freaks out. 
he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”
you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”
“what grade curse was it?”
“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”
“you’re only grade one. why would they—”
“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”
“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 
“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 
“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”
“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”
“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 
he regrets it as soon as he says it. 
and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 
“hey…”
he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.
_____
freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.
“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 
“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 
he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”
“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 
“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 
(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)
“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”
wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 
“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 
“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”
“ah. about that….”
_____
“alright, dinner’s served!”
you the kids exchange a look.
megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”
“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”
“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.
tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.
“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”
“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.
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slttygeto · 7 months
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CAN WE ALWAYS BE THIS CLOSE? | GOJO. S
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c.w: gn! reader, teacher! reader and teacher! satoru, mutual pining<3, reader and satoru aren’t dating but they act like a couple, satoru is a huge baby and i love him, satoru has a sweet tooth!
note: thank u to my one and only @aurelianamu for the idea<3 i changed it a little but yeah! also i am completely and utterly and platonically obsessed with this man.
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satoru has a sweet tooth. you keep a mental note of that and you’re reminded of how important having something sweet is for him when you notice the way he deflates on the brown leather couch of the teacher’s lounge. and while satoru doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s withering like a flower in winter, the weather seems to be in tune with his emotions—it gets cold, cloudy and then there’s rain and all of that seems to worsen his mood.
you don’t say anything as you watch him stand up and make his way to the kitchenette of the school dorm. you see the tall man not so quietly open one of the cabinets and after rummaging in there for a while, he pulls out a big tub of Nutella and a huge spoon. you feel sick to your stomach at the sight.
“satoru—“ you don’t realize how fast you jump from your seat, reaching towards the big tub of Nutella. “satoru, give me that.” you don’t even try to be stern with him, you know that it does nothing to him, and he suddenly wants to act bratty.
he turns his back to you and you sigh, quickly giving up.
“you will get sick, satoru.” you try to reason with him, a hand resting on his shoulder and trying to take a quick look. “and that tub is huge- come on, maybe I could make you something to put the Nutella on?” your thumb soothes the seam of his uniform, and you make another note in your head to remind him to iron his clothes properly next time.
it seems as though your suggestion hits a good spot because he quickly places the container down and turns around to face you. he pulls his blindfold off completely and you don’t move back when his big blue eyes meet yours.
“gonna make pancakes?”
“mhm, from scratch. sit down.” you order the tall man and it’s comedic how he complies almost immediately. if satoru was a puppy, then his tail was definitely wagging , hitting the floor violently. you stifle a laugh at how obedient he looks, sitting on the stool and watching you handle the ingredients with delicate and professional hands.
the smell of the pancakes quickly reaches the students and they slowly come out of the rooms. you don’t expect megumi to be the first one out of the bunch to be standing behind you, asking you if he can take one but you smile at him and tell him to take a seat next to his mentor.
“can I have one?” megumi mumbles and his eyes light up when you place a plate in front of him and gojo.
“eat, I will make more for when the rest join us.”
and sure enough, the small space of the kitchenette was filled with all the students, nanami and yaga as well. it was a rare sight for everyone to be gathered in the same place at the same time, and although you were sweating and a little bothered by the heat and the tightness of the space, you manage to finish serving the pancakes before turning to a pouting satoru.
“are you okay? you don’t like them?”
“it was supposed to be for me.” he sounds so sincere and broken, you have to fight back the urge to engulf him in a tight hug.
“i can make more for you. at home.”
gojo lights up at the last part, and this time you show him how much you appreciate his excitement to be hanging out with you.
“after work?”
“after missions too, if you want.” you shrug your shoulders as you add the last comment, and you pray that he doesn’t notice the way your cheeks warm up.
“are you inviting me over to your place?” usually his teasing gets you riled up, but he is pleasantly surprised when you nod and look him in the eye.
“i’d love to have you over, satoru.” his heart almost bursts at the way you say his name. so soft, so gentle.
“okay, promise.” he lifts up his hand and puts up his pinky finger. he watches as your face contorts into one of confusion before lightly chuckling at his antics.
you intertwine your pinky with his nonetheless, flashing him a grin.
“pinky promise.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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mistydeyes · 7 months
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Task Force 141 and a reader that they never have seen out of uniform until one day they all go to a bar but the reader is late? Next thing they know the reader walks up to them dressed like they just walked straight out of the 2000’s?
(if you end up doing this request: thank you so much! I absolutely luv your writing!!)
thank you so much for requesting! i literally am in love with 2000's fashion like you'll be seeing me walking with low-cut jeans and a baby tee fr
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summary: After a tiring mission, the 141 invites you to drink away the night at the pub. However, you get into a lively argument about fashion when they question your choice in 2000's inspired attire.
pairings: taskforce 141 x platonic!gn!reader (codename: Storm)
warnings: swearing, slight bullying (they fr just don't understand fashion)
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"Didn't we tell Storm half-past eight?" Gaz asked, looking down at his watch. The pub was nearly empty as the men continued to add glass after glass to a growing pile. Despite reminding you with a string of texts, you still haven't made an appearance. "Still don't get why they had to change," Soap continued, choking down another drink, "Lt's still wearing his goddamn mask." The group laughed as their attention was directed to Ghost, still wearing his signature face mask. "They probably wanted a shower and some fresh trousers," Price commented and the rest of the group returned to a more interesting conversation.
As the group laughed at Soap recounting Ghost's out-of-character dialogue in Las Almas, their gaze fell on the pub's door as it swung open. The group smiled at the familiar face and gestured you over. You walked to the table quickly, feeling the attention in the empty pub. At first, you thought it was due to your late entrance but when you approached, you saw all eyes focused on your attire. It was like you walked out of the 2000s or robbed a Delias before your arrival. You felt a little self-conscious at the confused looks and wondered what all the fuzz was about. "What? Do I have a stain?" you questioned as you dusted off your low-cut, denim jeans. "No, it's just-" Gaz began to say but Soap interjected. "Why do you dress like that?" he asked and you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at your jeans and Von Dutch top. "But I normally dress like this?" you said with a curious tone. You dressed like this before joining the military and held on to the lively aesthetic of the early 2000s. You were embarrassed to admit but Britney Spears and *NSYNC were your fashion icons.
"Yeah," Ghost spoke up as he eyed the interesting font of your shirt, "you look like you could be an extra in a Spice Girls video." You rolled your eyes, grabbing at one of the half-drunk glasses on the table. "You've been quiet, Captain," you edged while looking at him, "what do you think?" There was a hush over the room as you waited in anticipation. "Clothes are clothes," he simply replied and the table roared with laughter. "Such a grandad thing to say," Soap loudly exclaimed and everyone clambered with sentiments of agreement. "Sorry I don't wear Wrangler jeans and black fitness tops," you mumbled. It was a subtle jab at your colleagues but Gaz took it to heart. "I have style!" he shouted as you shook your head in disapproval.
"Gaz, you look like someone trying to emulate an Instagram model or some teenager's Pinterest board," you argued and you were met by the howling of the tipsy men. "And Captain, I'm sorry but you look like a father going on holiday to the Swiss Alps," you directed towards Price as everyone realized this was becoming an insult fueled rage. Soap was still laughing wildly, shaking his head in agreement with your every word. "Oh you shouldn't be laughing, Soap," you said as you turned to him, "a navy blue sweater and black jeans are a fashion crime." He quickly turned red and looked embarrassed as he examined the mismatched colors. Everyone held their breath as you turned to Ghost. "And Lt," you paused, thinking of what you should say next, "you dress like you've never heard of color."
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pinchofhoney · 5 months
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broken promises, part three
« part one | part two | part three (the last one)
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.
Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.
Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.
You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.
The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.
At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.
As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.
With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.
You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.
It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.
Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.
And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.
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As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.
You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.
But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.
Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.
You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.
You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.
On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.
You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.
Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.
As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.
His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.
“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”
Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.
“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.
You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”
Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.
“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.
“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.
Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.
“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”
His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.
You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.
In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.
“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.
“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”
You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.
“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.
“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.
You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.
Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.
“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”
Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.
He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.
“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.
Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.
He seemed colder than his very name.
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64 YEARS LATER
The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.
Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”
Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”
You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.
“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”
The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.
“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”
Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.
“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”
Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.
As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.
Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.
It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.
Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.
Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.
But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.
You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.
As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”
Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”
Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.
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ardentlylesbian · 2 months
Text
Butch sex ed Pt.2 (Femme x Butch, Butch, Butch etc…)
Contains: Group sex, voyerism, exhibitionism, dom/sub power dynamics, explicit consent, impact play, spanking, face slapping, vibrator, fingering, sub training, dumbification, overstimulation, aftercare
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Volunteer work” had become a regular part of my schedule. At least once a week I would join Teacher, Sam, and the students for demonstrations and gratuitous experimentation. Sometimes repeating lessons for new groups of butches, sometimes trying something new. I was getting embarrassingly familiar with the feeling of being stretched by thick butch cocks, and would get wet just from driving past the high school that hosted the lessons.
One week Sam texted me and asked if I would be comfortable with a new lesson, something a bit more intense than what we had tried before. The text alone send a shot of arousal through my body, I immediately started running through every possible option of what she could mean. I personally considered the seemingly endless fucking by various straps “intense”, but to Sam and Teacher I supposed that was just their Tuesday evening and had been for who knows how long. I texted her back quickly, asking for further details.
Have you ever tried impact play?
My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the text. I’d had my ass slapped here and there during sex, sure, but I had never tried anything more than that. Not that I didn’t sometimes wonder if a well timed slap or spanking might just turn me to mush. I’m such a sub that masochism hardly feels like a far cry from what I’ve already got going on. I respond with that in mind, telling her that I hadn’t tried it before but I wouldn’t be opposed to experimenting for a class.
Perfect!
Was all she said in response, followed only by a time and date.
Getting though the downtime between the classes was getting harder and harder. How is a femme supposed to focus when she knows that she’s only ever a handful of days or hours away from having her brains fucked out? When her legs ache and pussy throbs from the treatment from the last class right up until the next. I’d like to see you try to get anything done at your day job under those circumstances.
Before the class I did my usual prep, but I was unsure what I should do in particular anticipation of impact play. Even googling only reminded me to eat beforehand and maybe stretch. Anticipating that I would definitely be spanked in some way, I decided to wear a garter set that would frame my ass in a pretty way, especially with my panties removed. Dark green lace laid flush against my skin and the garters held up classic stockings. I layered on top my usual slutty-yet-professional uniform of a tight skirt and blousy shirt. God, just getting dressed in those clothes I could feel myself getting wet in anticipation.
When I get to the high school our routine is so smoothly polished that I don’t even have to slow down as I walk up to the door. Sam already has it open and is waiting for me with a smile. I run my nails through her hair for a second as I greet her, smiling when she melts a bit under my touch. Right behind her ears is particularly sensitive, something I discovered during the cunnilingus lesson a couple weeks ago. She knows I know it drives her wild but she never pushes me away when I tease her.
Instead she presses her hand to my back as always, and guides me down the hallway towards our usual room.
“How are you feeling about today’s lesson? Do you have any questions before we get inside?” She says, looking up at me kindly.
“How big is the class today?” I ask, knowing that the bigger the classes the less likely we are to get into anything too intense. Teacher likes to stay vague if there’s too many butches who need to take turns trying out techniques, knowing I’d get overwhelmed otherwise. Asking about the class size usually gives me some idea of what I’m in for.
“It’s fairly small today, only ten butches. A few are pretty experienced too.” Sam responds, searching my face for my reaction.
I can’t help but blush under her scrutiny. It’s definitely more nerve wracking knowing that the class is smaller. The reality of me not actually having any experience with impact starts to sink in and my sense of confidence that I had gained from the other classes melts away.
“Are you okay with that? You know our cancellation policy, you can opt out at any time for any reason.” Sam rubs gentle circles on my lower back as she speaks and my chest clenches with need. Remembering what those fingers can do when they’re inside me. In that moment I decide that no matter how nervous I feel, I’m going inside that classroom.
I nod at her, “I know. I’m okay, I want to give it a try. I’m just nervous.”
She smiles at me and opens the door, “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll take care of you. We always do.”
Inside the room sit the ten butches, all seated in the first row or so of desks. The crowd is diverse as usual, some studs, some fat, some visibly transmasculine. I think I recognize a couple of them from previous classes but can’t read name tags from the doorway well enough to be sure.
Standing behind the fucking desk (as I affectionately call it in my mind) is Teacher. As always they’re the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Today they wear a white dress shirt, the sleeves already rolled up to flaunt their large forearms, as if to say yes I will be slapping you, and look how much strength I have to do it with. I feel myself blushing and focus instead on not wobbling in my heels.
The class immediately quiet down as I walk in, and Sam guides me to stand next to the table where Teacher smoothly steps up beside me.
“Class, let’s give a warm welcome to our femme volunteer for the night, shall we?” They croon. The class responds quickly and obediently with a chorus of hello’s and nice to see you again’s.
“Now as you know, today’s class is an introduction to impact play.” Teacher continues, “We will be exploring basic spanks and slaps, the reactions they invoke and how to care for a femme afterwards. With of course some general conversation about healthy domination thrown in for good measure. As you all also know, this is a intermediate course and absolutely no bullshit will be tolerated. In order for this to work the femme must trust us completely. To encourage this I will have you each make a promise to our femme that you will respect her consent and be extremely careful with the force used on her in accordance to what she consents to.”
One by one the butches go around the circle and promise to me that they’ll be good, I nod respectfully, my blush deepening with each one. Lastly Teacher catches my eye, giving me their little smirk, and promises the same. I would never doubt that Teacher would respect my boundaries, but still them saying it aloud is comforting.
“Excellent!” Teacher grinned and their hand came to rest on the base of my neck. “We’ll begin with some basic handling.”
With ease they slip their hand up into my hair and firmly tug my head back. A small moan slips from my lips and Teacher’s other hand grabs one of my wrists. “See how pliable she is? This femme, as some of you know, has been fairly well trained at this point, which is very helpful when getting into BDSM dynamics like this. She’ll let me put her in any position without bratting.”
Teacher tugs on my wrist to spin me around then uses that same hand to instead press on my back and bend me over the fucking table. The cold wood is familiar at this point, smooth against my cheek. After barely a moment they then pull me up by my hair, making me whimper, and spin me around once again before pushing me to my knees in front of them. My eyes meet the bulge in their slacks, a bulge I had never gotten to touch let alone be fucked by. The temptation to lean forward and drag my tongue over the front of those slacks was unbelievable. With some effort I dragged my gaze away to meet their eyes, cool and professional they give nothing away. I can hear the squeaking of chairs being pushed back as the butches in the second row stand up for a better view of me on my knees. Teacher’s fingers press against my lips and I open my mouth to welcome their fingers, immediately sucking hungrily.
“What a good girl, isn’t she class?” The butches readily agree, somewhat breathlessly. “What we don’t see is the bad girl underneath that aches to be punished, isn’t that right, dear?”
I blush and nod, swirling my tongue around their fingers, my panties completely soaked just from this show of dominance. Their fingers slip out of my mouth and they reach out to the side to offer them to the closest Butch, who eagerly sucks them clean. Teacher made a small sound of approval and quickly helps me back to my feet, their other hand still tangled in my hair and causing a delicious ghost of pain through my scalp.
“Who would like to try the bending over maneuver on her?” They ask.
Every hand in the room shot up, to no surprise. Teacher picked out a handsome Indian Butch who’s name tag read Jagdeep. She quickly took Teacher’s place next to me, her hand grabbing my hair instead. Her grip was tighter and I whimpered at the increased intensity of the sensation as she turned me around and pushed me slowly down against the table. She took her time, putting on a show for the class until my cheek was once again pressed to the cool surface.
“Very good, I enjoyed the element of style you added by playing with the speed.” Teacher praised, and Jagdeep’s hands slipped away from my body. I stayed bent over the table, my hands palm down on either side of my face.
“Now,” Teacher continued, “We will progress into the spanking portion of the lesson. While spanking over clothes can be helpful to reduce sting, we will be using her bare ass so as to easily reference the redness and bruising for her comfort and your education.”
I felt their hand on my shoulder and they pulled me once again up to standing, guiding me a few steps away from the table. I glanced back to see Sam pulling out the table-cover mat. Of course. Because I was about to be spanked over the edge of that table, probably by every butch in this room. Possibly multiple times. A gush of wetness dripped between my legs as that reality started to sink in.
“Finn, please come strip her.” Teacher said, and a butch with short hair and stubble quickly came over to me. They were shorter than me in my heels but were at least twice my size in every other way. Just standing next to them I felt surrounded by their presence and cologne, making me blush even more (if that was even possible). They asked if they could strip me and I nodded my ascent, their hands quickly going to work pulling my blouse over my head. I had decided against wearing a bra, so cold air hit my chest in a smooth waft that had my nipples instantly hardening. The class let out their usual communal groan, and a small smile danced across my lips. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that reaction.
Finn’s hands dragged down my hips until they found the back of my skirt, unzipping it slowly and pulling the tight material off my body. I shivered slightly as I watched the class’s reaction to my garter and stockings, most of them looking just as flushed as me. Turning my head, I glanced at Teacher as Finn helped me step out of the skirt, and was certain I could recognize a faint look of approval that lived beneath their smirk.
“Thank you Finn, you may return to your seat.” Teacher said, once again taking the place beside me and gripping my hair with a strong hand. In response I let out a sound so subby it was almost embarrassing. They pushed me back down over the table, now with the mat securely in place thanks to Sam. I gripped the edges of the desk, my breath already coming in short bursts as I felt Teacher’s hands drag down my back and over my ass. I watch the class’s expressions as Teacher carefully removes my underwear, leaving the garter and stockings and heels in place. They don’t even graze my wet pussy as it’s exposed to them and I ache for more touch, from Teacher, from anyone.
“I will now demonstrate proper form for a bare handed spank, are you ready, lovely?” Teacher asked, squeezing my ass with one hand.
“Yes Teacher I’m ready, please spank me.” I beg, too turned on and desperate to bother feeling embarrassed.
“Good girl.”
Teacher described their hand position, the proper way to wind up, where to hit, and how much force to use. I barely listened as I lay on the table, goosebumps raising all over my body and nearly trembling in anticipation.
“Observe.” Teacher crooned, and their hand came down on my ass with a satisfying smack.
I jolted from the impact and moaned like a whore, the sting radiating out through my body. Teacher caressed the spot where they hit, and invited the class to come join them around me. I whine and watch the class gather in closer, all craning their necks to catch a good view of what was surely a perfect handprint on my asscheek.
“Now each of you will attempt to mimic my exact form and intensity, with the goal of creating a even layer of colour across her entire bottom. Line up.” Teacher instructed.
Without thinking I wiggle my ass a bit as I adjust, and I quickly feel a solid warm hand on the small of my back, pinning me down. My head is turned the wrong way but I somehow know it’s Sam without needing to see her. “No squirming now, a still target is easier to find.” She purrs in my ear, no doubt enjoying the way I tremble in response.
The first butch comes up behind me and I feel their hand stroke my thigh, Teacher gives her some small instructions on stance and aim. Within a moment I feel her hand come down on my other ass cheek, making me gasp. I lay there and count in my head as the butches take their turns, knowing there’s ten in total. By the eighth spank my ass is tingling a bit, and by the tenth I can feel my wetness slowly leaking down the inside of my thigh. The warmth from the impacts and my arousal having banished the goosebumps from my skin.
“Well done, look at how her ass is a beautiful uniform shade of pink, not bruising yet but just a bit tenderized. This is the extent that most casual hookups and such would want, but more masochistic femmes will want you to keep going. Isn’t that right?” Teacher directed their question to me and I whimper.
“Yes Teacher, please keep going.” I breathe, surprised by how whiny and pathetic my own voice sounds.
“Next you will each take a turn with your fingers inside her. You will not finger her, just rest them deep inside and feel how she clenches and flutters around you with the impact.” Teacher’s long fingers finally press against my pussy, gathering the wetness there as I moan and try to wiggle my hips back against them. They slip two inside in a smooth motion that makes my eyes roll back from the fullness, and seconds later their other hand strikes my ass again. I groan and clench around their fingers just like they said I would. Chuckling to themself, they pull out of me and I whimper at the loss of what I’d been craving to badly.
Luckily I don’t have to wait long before a new pair of fingers prod and slip into me, not quite so long as Teacher’s but certainly thicker. A familiar cologne hits my nose at the same time that Finn’s hand hits my ass. They groan and comment on how good I feel squeezing them, how wet and warm I am inside. Then the next butch takes their place with whispered “oh fuck” as they sink inside me.
By the end of this round of spanks I’m drooling a bit onto the table, twitching as the last pair of fingers pulls out of me with a lewd wet sound.
I feel Sam’s hand lift off my back and instead smooth up my spine and into my hair, not pulling but instead stroking over my scalp and comforting me. My clit throbs from neglect but I know if I ask for somebody, anybody to touch me that I won’t be a good girl anymore. Good little sluts wait patiently for their turn to cum, and I’m a good slut.
“Very good class, see how she’s drooling? I think she deserves a reward, don’t you?” Teacher says, and I hear a chair being dragged to the front of the class. The students all murmur in agreement that I deserve a reward and I smile dizzily, relieved and desperate.
“Hayley, would you come sit here please?” Teacher asks, and I hear somebody come to sit where the chair had been placed. Teacher’s hands grasp my upper arms and they gently pull me up to standing, turning me around so I face the class and can see the Butch sitting in the centre of the group. Hayley has rich tanned skin and dark hair that reaches her waist, pulled back in a braid. They smile at me knowingly and pat on his lap, beckoning me. For a moment I’m not sure if they mean for me to sit on his lap or bend over it. Sam darts in and places a knee pillow at the side of the chair, answering my unspoken question, and with Teacher’s help I slowly kneel and drape myself over Hayley’s lap. I tremble a bit as I brace myself against Hayley’s leg, not sure exactly where this is going.
“Now just because she’s been a good girl doesn’t mean that she gets to cum without it being a learning experience. Hayley is a very skilled impact player and will demonstrate a more intense spanking style while we make our femme cum. Do you consent, dear?” Teacher asks.
I nod enthusiastically, both scared for the spanking since my ass already throbs slightly, but so deliriously turned on that I would accept anything to be allowed to cum.
“Out loud, or it doesn’t count, darling.”
“Yes yes please!” I cry, wiggling my ass just to accentuate my point. “I need to cum please Hayley please Teacher!”
Before I’ve even finished whining Hayley’s first strike comes down on my ass. I had felt on the table like I had nowhere to go when I was hit, but over Hayley’s lap the feeling is even stronger. Each impact jostles me against her legs and I clutch to her ankle and the leg of the chair to steady myself. She works into a steady rhythm that has me crying out and gasping, each strike sending waves of arousal and pain into my pussy and through my body.
But nobody else touches me.
They pant and touch themselves.
And watch.
Tears start to slide down my cheeks from the overstimulation and I moan desperately, maybe begging out loud, maybe only in my head. Finally my prayers are answered as I feel two fingers slide deep inside me with ease, instantly curling in a way I’ve only felt one person do before. I moan wantonly as Sam’s fingers work their magic inside, fucking me with both speed and precision as Hayley continues to spank me. The sounds in the room are a cacophony of wet squelches and smacks and my loud cries of pain and pleasure, I’m sure if I were able to lift my head I would see most of the class jacking off to the sight. Sam slides her other hand between my legs and strokes it over my clit, and I come undone instantly.
The orgasm takes over every muscle in my body as I convulse and nearly scream from the pleasure, clutching Hayley’s leg with my nails hard enough that I’m sure I leave imprints even through his pants. Once it subsides I go limp over Hayley’s knee, whimpering and gasping and clenching around Sam’s fingers. Hayley drags her hands over my sensitive ass, soothing some of the ache that now feels like it reaches my bones.
All too soon Sam’s fingers slip out of me, and seconds later I hear Hayley let out a muffled moan. Surely tasting me on Sam. I wish I could bring myself to raise my head and watch, but I have nowhere near enough strength in my body. I feel strong hands again grasp me by the shoulders and lift me with ease, bringing me to stand in front of the class.
Teacher presses their lips against my ear as they hold me upright. One hand pressed flat against my navel to keep my back flush against their chest. “Can you handle a finale, brave little femme?”
A small tremor goes through my exhausted body at the thought of more spanking, not sure if I can handle any more abuse to my ass in one night. Especially considering this was already a very intense introduction to the art.
“What kind of finale?” I whimper, aware of how needy I sound even through my uncertainty. I could really go for another orgasm.
“I’m going to slap you in the face, and while I do I’ll make sure you cum again.” Teacher’s voice and warm breath on my neck has my eyes fluttering already, and I find myself agreeing.
I had barely been spanked before this class, and now I’m allowing myself to get slapped in the face. I can hardly believe the situation but at the same time I can’t deny the way my whole body throbs with desire at the thought of being dominated in that way. Any logical hesitations being washed away by needs of the complete slut I’ve become.
Hayley has cleared out of the chair and it has now been placed at an angle to the audience of students, Sam having placed on it a small ridged toy that I had never seen before. Not a dildo, but something more flat and textured. I wasn’t at all surprised when Teacher guided me to sit on the chair, straddling the toy. The pressure it placed against my clit had me groaning and trying to subtly rock my hips for just a bit more friction. I felt Sam’s warm hands grasp my wrists from behind the chair and pull me back so I sat with good posture and arms completely immobile. Panting, I gazed up at Teacher and waited for their next move.
“Now class, as our final demonstration I will show some face slapping techniques. Watch carefully where I place the strikes and how hard I hit, this is far more advanced than I would expect most of you to attempt at home.” Teacher purred, grasping my chin in one hand and aligning my face how they wanted it.
I looked up at them with wide eyes as they dragged fingers down my cheek, so softly and tenderly that the slap which followed took me a moment to register. The stinging in my face and eyes sent a confused mixture of feelings through me. Shame and arousal and fear and excitement all swirling into one ball of emotion and making my head feel fuzzy.
“Turn it on now.” Teacher instructed, and my gaze flicked to the students where one stud held a remote in her hand. She pressed a button and the toy beneath me buzzed to life, sending vibrations directly through my clit and making me moan loudly. Pleasure rippled through me and my involuntarily my eyes fluttered shut.
I heard the crack of the slap before I felt it, forcing my eyes open in surprise to see Teacher smiling sadistically down at me. “Eyes on me, pretty femme.” They growled.
The sting on my cheek was stronger this time, and tears leaked down my face. I’m certain I looked a complete mess, restrained with my hair a disaster and mascara running down my red cheeks, ass bruised and throbbing. A fucked out slut for yet another room full of butches.
The thought only turned me on more. I whimpered as the vibrations of the toy started to coax out a familiar feeling between my legs. Instinctively I ground myself down on the toy, not letting myself look away from Teacher as they watched me and squeezed my face with their strong hand.
“Are you going to cum?” They asked.
I half-moaned half-sobbed in response, nodding my head desperately as the orgasm quickly approached, the vibrations shooting through my entire body.
Teacher slapped me again, hard, and I came at the exact same time. The pain and pleasure mingling and mixing until I had no idea where one ended and the next began. So closely linked and both incredibly intense. I must have been loud but I couldn’t hear myself past the rushing in my ears.
The toy didn’t turn off as I came down, just continued to buzz away against my overstimulated clit as I panted and stared up at Teacher with a watery and dazed expression. A chorus of moans and grunts from the butches in the class filled my ears as they each came down from their own orgasms.
“Can you handle another slap?” Teacher asked, the corner of their lip twitching into a smile as I nodded pathetically. So far beyond any kind of cognitive thought or ability to recognize when I was too far gone to handle more. My fuck-addled brain just craved.
“Turn it off.” The buzzing beneath me stopped abruptly and I whined, but also let out a small sigh of relief at the same time, drooping a bit against the back of the chair.
“As you can see, she’s so fucked out now that she’ll agree to almost anything. There’s no way she can handle any more impact, it would overwhelm her and she’s too far gone to consent regardless. It is also the responsibility of a dom to end a scene for the safety of your sub, if they are too far gone into sub space to know they’ve reached their limit.” Teacher explained, their thumb absentmindedly stroking over my cheekbone as they spoke. “Thank you for attending today’s session, please speak with Sam on your way out if you have any questions regarding further courses or the material we covered today. We’ll cover aftercare another time, this one needs some private rest now.”
I heard chairs being pushed back as the butches packed up, talking softly amongst themselves. Sam’s hands let go of my wrists and I wavered a bit until Teacher’s strong arms wrapped around me and helped me lay down on the fuck table on my stomach. The cold mat against my burning cheeks was a welcome sensation and I let out short shuddering breaths as Teacher smoothly and methodically cleaned me up. They massaged cooling lotion over my ass, pressing delicate kisses to my lower back and thighs as they went.
Once the class had cleared out, Sam joined in the aftercare, running a brush through my hair and whispering sweet praise. As I came back down to reality the ache in my body became real, and it was abundantly clear that any kind of movement or sitting was going to be a world of discomfort. Probably for multiple days. I caught myself softly crying, not from regret or feeling used, just as a let-down of the intense sensations the session had put me through. Teacher and Sam gently eased me into their arms and held me as I cried, keeping me sandwiched between their warm bodies to ground me.
“Is there anything specific that you need for aftercare, love?” Teacher whispered in my ear, their strong hand brushing tears off of my sore cheeks.
I gazed up at them, their rich skin and impossibly deep eyes. “Can you kiss me?”
They lowered their mouth over mine without answering and I moaned low and soft against their lips. Their kiss always grounded me at the end of a class, and they always indulged me whatever I asked for aftercare. Always.
Sam’s lips placed fluttering kisses along my shoulders as I lose myself for a moment in Teacher’s taste, the feeling of their tongue and body against mine.
When I eventually stop crying they gently detangle themselves from me, and Teacher instructs instruct Sam to take me home and watch over me for a couple days. The familiar comfort of a soft blanket settles around my body as Teacher scoops me up and carries me back to my car, our ritual now, after however many classes where I end up in a similar state by the end.
As the car rumbles me nearly to sleep on the ride home, I play over and over in my mind the sight of Teacher towering over me in their white button-up. The feeling of their palm cracking against my cheek and sending waves of pleasure-pain through my body. Hayley’s hand coming down on me over and over.
The ache in my body is good. The ache is my reward. And I know when the ache fades I’ll be hopeless, desperate for more.
That night unlocked something inside me, and I couldn’t wait to see what we could unlock next.
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hells-wasabii · 2 months
Note
Hello! Can I request headcanons of how Adam would react if his S/o got caught in the crossfire of an extermination and got hurt badly? Please and thank you!!
A/N: This one, i really liked it let me explore adams character a little more. I like to think that even if he was an asshole, there was a vulnerability to him that we didn't get to actually see except for in a couple of split-second moments
Character: Adam
Type: Headcanons (Adam x injured exorcist!reader, Angst)
It was Adam's favorite time of the year again. He loved extermination time. it was like Christmas to him! And what made it even better was that he got to spend this one with you!
He had been looking forward to it all year having finally convinced you to join the ranks of the exorcists. The two of you could sneak away for a little bit of fun too!
That is until he saw a flash of gold amongst the sea of red.
At first, he thought it was imagination and he was about to press on until he saw another flash of gold. Then another followed by an audible thud. That was when he finally turned to see you laying on your side, clutching at a steadily growing gold splotch against your uniform.
Adam might be self-centered at times, but this time, he would put you above all else. The very second that he's sure the bastard responsible is irrevocably erased, he has you bundled in his arms. As fast as his wings would take him, he returned you to heaven. He would simply have to leave Lute in charge, whether she realized she was or not.
Throughout your recovery, he was by your side, whether you liked it or not. Admittedly, he could be quite irritating during the healing period, but don't be mistaken. His heart's in a good place. He'd never admit it to anyone, but you had him for your every beck and call. The only time he wasn't with you was when you actually asked him for something, or to take Lute's report and take the information to his own boss.
He can be sweet, you already knew that. But you're certainly reminded of it when he had pressed a kiss to your temple when he had thought you were asleep.
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Youth Team
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: The final of the Under-17 Euros
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Your call-up to join Denmark's Under-17 team comes on a random Wednesday.
You're freshly fifteen and have just gotten back from practice, throwing your hair up into a ponytail and shoving your dirty keeper gloves into the washing machine.
"I'm home!"
You don't really expect anyone to answer but Momma appears in front of you in an instant, a phone tucked under her ear.
"It's for you," She says and you take it in confusion - unsure of who would call your Momma instead of just you.
"Hello?"
"Is this y/n?" The voice on the other line asks. It's a little weird hearing someone call you by your name like that. Your mothers never outgrew calling you your childhood nickname and everyone at training just called you by your last name.
"Er...Yes?"
You can hear their smile down the phone and something unknown stirs within you.
"I'm calling on behalf of Denmark's Under Seventeen Squad. We'd be delighted to have you join us at camp this year."
You're speechless for a moment, eyes wide in shock as you look at Momma, who is smiling and nodding at you.
"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to come!"
"Excellent. Details will be sent to your mothers and we look forward to seeing you at Viborg soon."
That was months ago now and, as you slip into your kit, you can't help but think back on it. You're still fifteen, one of the youngest on the squad but you've still managed to clinch the first keeper position from your sixteen-year-old counterpart.
You're up against Germany (but everybody already knew that you would be, they'd been on a winning streak since before you were born) and you take the time before kick-off to take steadying breaths.
Eriksson-Harder is on the back of your jersey. It was a small consolation prize for Morsa, putting her last name first on your back after you chose Denmark over Sweden for the youth teams. Sweden had called too, only several hours too late and you had to reject their offer in favour of Denmark.
Morsa had been a bit miffed but after you promised to put her name first, she was placated (if only for a moment before she arrogantly reminded Momma that you had all the time in the world to choose Sweden's senior team).
"Alright there?" One of your teammates asks as you ready yourself to walk out.
"Peachy," You say sarcastically," Just..." You shrug. "At least try to keep them from getting close enough to shoot?"
She laughs. "It's Germany. I don't think we get that luxury."
She's right because most of the match is spent viciously defending your clean sheet.
You jump.
You dive.
You punch.
You do everything in your power to keep the German goals from taking this from you.
"Come on!" You yell in triumph as you narrowly grab onto the ball. The speed at which it came at you nearly winds you but you recover quickly, kicking it quickly to one of your defenders to send it further up the pitch. "Come at me!"
It's a vicious game and your whole uniform is dirty and raked with mud from the amount of times that you have dived to the ground to stop the ball.
It all comes to a head though when the ninety minutes are up and neither team has scored.
Penalties.
You despise penalties with all your heart (although you're incredibly skilled at them). They're the bane of your existence (but at this point, you don't know that you'll never let one in throughout your entire career). It's made even worse when Denmark starts it off. The ball tips out of target.
You step up.
Shot.
Deflect.
It goes on for a few excruciating rounds. None of your penalty takers seem to be able to score and you're left to make sure that Germany can't either.
Shot.
Deflect.
Shot.
Deflect.
Shot.
Deflect.
Finally though, on the fifth kick, your captain manages to just squeeze one past Germany's keeper and you're left to make sure it stays that way.
If this next ball goes through, it's more penalties.
If not...Well you knew what happened if it didn't go in.
You bounce on your feet, gloves up and ready as Germany's captain readies herself.
She looks like she's aiming right.
The crowd is silent.
She kicks the ball.
You move left...
And catch the ball in your hands easily.
The stadium erupts.
You scream. Your team mobs you and suddenly everyone is talking over each other and laughing and crying and screaming their joy for everyone to see.
You break from the group, still clutching the ball in your hands as you run to the crowd.
To Momma and Morsa.
Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you hop the railing and crash into their arms.
You're not quite sure who's at your front and who's at your back but you just know that Morsa and Momma are here and they're holding you and you've just won the Under-17 Euros.
You're still crying as you pull away to see Momma's the one in front of you. She's crying too, cupping your face and raining kisses on your forehead.
"You did so well, princesse." Morsa's still holding you from behind. "So well. We're so proud of you."
"Denmark's first goalkeeper," Momma says," Winning on penalties."
You grin, your tears having run dry even as you're still overwhelmed by emotions. "So you think I'll stay first keeper?"
Morsa laughs from behind you and you turn around to face her, seeing the pride shining in her eyes. "Definitely. Although, hopefully, you won't stick with Denmark."
"I don't know," Momma teases," She's just won her first Euros. I'd say that staying with Denmark might be her good luck charm."
"She's going to be good enough not to need luck."
You have to break away from them to collect your medal and have a little hold of the trophy but you head straight back.
You take off your medal as soon as you reach them and place it around Momma's neck.
"There'll be more," You promise her and Morsa," There'll be so many more."
589 notes · View notes
sanemi-whore · 8 months
Text
All Night (Cruel World Pt.2)
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Thankfully (for Sanemi's sake) you return from Final Selection alive and well. However, you being apart of the Demon Slayer Corps has his nerves going insane. To assure your safety, you often attend missions alongside him. word count: 15.150 warning: character death, blood, jealousy, cursing, smut, dark themes, aphrodisiac, anxiety, impregnation kink, mentions of abortion @roaringlion @kiki17483
Part One | Masterlist | Final Part
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You felt old next to the other Final Selection survivors and the thought causes your heart to ache. You were an adult, far from the young age of 14 - the youngest apart of the survivors. To think children join the Demon Slayer Corps and put their lives at risk in order to help others - you wonder how old Sanemi was when he joined. Or Genya - all of the slayers you’ve met. 
The morning sun shines bright ahead of you and the other five survivors. Your eyes look forward to the mountaintop shrine, a soft smile forming on your lips at the two children standing before the survivors. 
“Welcome back.” they say in Unison. “Congratulations on completing Final Selection. We’re pleased to see that you’re all safe..”
There’s a low sniffle beside you. You hum at the sight - a young boy no older than 16. You recall just how terrified he was to encounter a demon coming at him with such speed that he barely managed to dodge its attack. It was raining that night and the boy's burgundy hair was clouding his vision. You intervene, slashing the demon’s neck. The boy, Shinra, never left your side until now. 
“First we must issue you all uniforms once we take your correct measurements.” the dark haired child started.
“Then we’ll engrave your rank on the back of your hand.” the white haired child continued.
“You then will be given the chance to select the ore that will be used to forge your weapon - swords. It will be 10-15 days before said weapons are ready to use.”
The black haired child claps their hands twice. Above you hear several crows, flocking their wings. You're excited, nearly ecstatic. You recall the many times you’ve been berated by Muichiro’s crow and how she loved him dearly that you wished to have your own. 
A crow flocks onto your shoulders. It flocks its wings several times before stopping, inspecting your face. 
“Now that you all are demon slayers, you are each assigned Kasugai Crows.” the white haired child spoke. “They are used to facilitate communication.”
The black haired child turned away to remove the long, blue cloth that laid above a table.”Now the time has come for you to choose an ore for your sword.” he says, revealing several ore’s for each of you to choose. 
“Shinra.” you call to the boy beside you, still sniffling. “Let’s go choose our Ore.”
Shinra’s eyes are wide as you speak to him, but he nods nonetheless. He follows you closely as each of the survivors inspect the ore’s.  You yourself are none the wiser choosing an ore. You contemplate having laid your eyes upon an ore and just thought it was another random rock.
“Which one should we choose, Shinra?” you smile at the boy. “I sense…that one,” you point to a medium sized ore. “Is a good fit for me.”
Shinra furrows a burgundy brow, “H-How do you know?” he murmurs. 
“I can just feel it.” you respond. You go to grab it.
Shinra’s eyes - a beautiful shade of azure,  widen and he too grabs an ore - the one directly next to yours. “Okay.” he nods. 
Soon you make your journey back to Sanemi’s estate. Your legs are aching for a break, but you do not allow them to stop. Your kasugai crow, who you learned was named Hiyori, now laid upon your shoulder as you walked. She had since grew tired of flying above you once she realized you had no intention of stopping for the night. How could you? You passed Final Selection and now was an actual Demon Slayer. 
The sky was now a dark violet color when you arrived back at the estate. You had many people to see - you agreed to visit Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho once you returned. You grew close with the young girls, often visiting them when you didn’t have to train until you dropped. You would have to thank Uzui, Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma for your combat training; Muichiro (and Ginko because she wouldn’t allow you to not acknowledge her if you met with him). Mitsuri promised you pancakes one you returned and you were craving them with extra honey - her western cooking was the best you’ve ever had. 
You opened the shoji doors of Sanemi’s estate. It’s quiet inside and doesn’t appear to have anyone in it. You make your way around the estate and hum, Sanemi was not here. 
You didn’t let the fact bother you. Sanemi was a hashira after all and had responsibilities. He could possibly be doing his rounds before he returned home.
You take this time to bathe, allowing all the grime to be released from your skin was refreshing. You’re unsure how long you’ve bathed for, but once your hands begin to wrinkle was when you decided to get out. You were refreshed now, dressed now in a light kimono tied loosely and your hair in a low bun.
You decide to do another round around the estate for Sanemi. You can hear them - faint footsteps.It’s coming from the opposite side of the mansion. Your feet begin to sprint across the cold hardwood floor, a wide smile on your lips.
Sanemi was here, you note, dressed in his usual Hashira attire. He appeared to have just came in from his rounds as you suspected. 
“Nemi!” you exclaim, jumping to wrap your arms around the man. He doesn’t move back an inch, even with the impact of you crashing into him. 
Sanemi’s nostrils fill with your scent - the familiar scent that he had longed to smell for the last week. His nerves begin to calm themselves at your touch, unaware that since you've been gone that he was unable to focus on anything but your survival. 
“I’m back from Final Selection!” your heart is pumping with excitement. “I even have my own crow like you all! Her name’s Hiyori!” you continue to babble on and on about everything that happened during your week, still wrapping him in a tight embrace. 
Your face then crashes into his chest and you’re silent. Sanemi doesn’t notice it at first - he assumes you were overwhelmed with emotions to fully focus on one topic at a time. But then his bare chest feels it. Wet - were you crying?
Sanemi gets his answer when your shoulders shake and his chest appears to be even more wet. He gulps, unsure on what to do. Why were you suddenly crying? Sanemi didn’t deal with emotions well. He hated when the lower ranks would cry, it irritated him to no end. It didn’t help either that they were often crying because of him - but that's besides the point. 
Sanemi places a hand upon your head. “Y/N…” he trails off. “What’s wrong?”
Your face lifts to look at Sanemi. There it was again - the jolt. He hadn’t felt the jolt in his heart in a week and swears he was cured of whatever sickness he had. Your eyes are teary and wet, lashes sticking to one another. 
“I’m so happy!” you sob, lips quivering. 
Happy?
You were crying because you were happy?
Sanemi’s shoulders falter and now, he finds himself wanting to laugh.
“I’m happy that I passed Final Selection and you didn’t waste your time training me.” you continue, wiping your tears away with your shoulder so you wouldn’t have to unwrap your arms from Sanemi. “I’m happy I was given the opportunity to make my own decision and not be fated to one.” you’re continuing to ramble on about how happy you truly were - claiming to be happy to be surrounded by such positive people even if they were working in less than positive situations. 
You do end up unwrapping your arms around Sanemi to fall to your knees. You’re bowing before him, tears not stopping. “Thank you, Sanemi.”
Sanemi gasps, but he doesn’t stiffen. “Y/N, you don’t-”
“I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to train besides you and the other Hashira and slayers.” you’re sobbing full on now, dramatic tears leaking onto the floor. “I promise to make you proud as your tsuguko! I’ll do my best on all my missions!”
Sanemi inhales. His heart is beating rapidly and he’s unsure how to respond to you. To think that he, a Hashira of many years now and had fought demons upon demons…was going to die now due to heart failure. He hoped that Shinobu and Aoi would be the first two to cry at his funeral for denying him (a fucking Hashira at that) service. 
Sanemi’s mind wanders. He’s happy, as well, he supposes. Genya was alive and well, even if he refused to look his brother's way, he often kept tabs on him. Sorai would tell him everything Genya did when he wasn’t on missions. You were alive now, as well. Overly emotional and grateful as ever. Sanemi finds himself silently thanking whatever God there was out there that you wouldn’t be yet another death on his conscience.
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Sanemi slams the door of the butterfly mansion open, a feral look upon his face. Naho jumps, her braids swinging around towards the sound. Kiyo’s eyes widen at Sanemi while Sumi quivers. “Where’s Kocho or Kanzaki?” he hisses at the three girls. 
“S-Shinobu-san said-”
“I do not care.” Sanemi dismisses them. He doesn’t see either of the two girls he’s looking for and he turns away from them. He stalks down the halls of the butterfly mansion, in coming slayers flinging themselves into the wall just to avoid him and his wrath. 
It takes another five minutes to find Shinobu and it only took him slamming open three shoji doors. 
“Shinazugawa.” Shinobu’s soft smile doesn’t falter, not even when she’s annoyed with her office being intruded. She leans back in her seat and tilts her head at him. 
“It happened again.” Sanemi exclaims.
Shinobu raises a brow.
“My heart jolted again yesterday. Matter of fact,” Sanemi steps inside the office. “it didn’t stop jolting for another 30 minutes.”
Shinobu snickers. “Y/N must be back from Final Selection already.” she notes, more to herself than as a statement to Sanemi. “Please tell her to come visit us at the Butterfly Mansion for any injuries she may have.”
Sanemi’s eyes are glaring at the younger girl. “What the hell does that have to do with my heart?!” he was growing irate by the second. Each time he came to this place he was kicked out by giggling girls. 
“I’ve checked your heart countless times, Shinazugawa.” Shinobu states with a shake of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with it or you.”
Sanemi sighs and scoffs. 
“Maybe you’re in denial?” Shinobu shrugs her shoulders. 
“In denial?” Sanemi hisses. “You and that other little brat are in denial about my health!”
Shinobu wants to laugh right now, but having Sanemi constantly come into the Butterfly Mansion and scaring the nurses (and the slayers) was becoming overwhelming. 
“My,” Shinobu manages to giggle. “have you…ever thought that your heart is jolting only when a certain someone is around you?”
Sanemi’s eyes squint. “Where the hell are you getting at?”
“That maybe you’ve failed to realize that your heart is jolting because you happen to…like Y/N?” Shinobu doesn’t want to cause Sanemi to convulse by saying the word “love” just yet. “There’s studies that show that boys are less smarter than girls, so I’m not surprised you cannot tell the difference between pain and feelings.”
Sanemi’s ears and neck darken a crimson color and his hands clenched into fists. Shinobu’s now full on laughing at him. He’s had enough of her and Uzui’s constant teasing.
“Fuck off.” Sanemi hisses and then turns to walk away. 
“Shinazugawa!” Shinobu calls before he can storm down the hallway. “I think she likes you, too. So do the rest of the Hashira.” 
Sanemi doesn’t say anything and Shinobu doesn’t expect him to, but the blush on his cheeks don’t go unnoticed. 
Sanemi makes his way out of the Butterfly Mansion and back towards his estate. He managed to bring his breathing calm, but his mind is going crazy. He thinks of you and how each time he was with you, his heart goes insane and his mind seems to go blink. His anger appears to subside when you speak to him with such a soft smile. Your eyes never show any disgust towards him, instead they’re kind and warm.
“Nemi!”
Your voice echoes through his ears from behind him. He hasn’t seen you the last few hours and when he turns, he’s shocked to see your appearance. He swallows, throat quickly running dry. You’re running towards him, a wide smile on your lips. He notes that he’s rarely seen your skin - such smooth skin that now appears to shine underneath the afternoon sun. You’ve gotten your uniform and appeared to be an exact replica of Mitsuri.
“I got my uniform!” you say excitedly when you reach Sanemi.
Sanemi looks away to not catch himself staring too long at your appearance. 
“Is that Y/N-chan?” 
“She’s so cute!”
You’re beaming at Sanemi and he feels just how hot his body begins to feel. 
“Do you feel comfortable?” Sanemi asks. You never showed this amount of skin before.
You slowly nod your head. “It’ll take some getting used to, I suppose.” you respond.
Sanemi licks his lips. His eyes roam around the area to find several slayers looking their way - your way. His nerves were now kicking in at the eyes on you.
“Do I look nice?” you ask him. “I do think it’ll be a little chilly with the uniform, but I think I’ll be alright.” you giggle to yourself.
“Is Shinazugawa-sama blushing again?”
“Why do all the girls go for guys like him?!” a slayer throws his hands in the air.
“Here.” Sanemi removes his haori and hands it over to you. He isn’t looking at you when he does so. “So you don’t get cold.”
“Shinazugawa-sama is such a nice boyfriend!” a female slayer gushes. 
“Who knew he was such a-”
The slayers scurry off when a pair of lilac eyes glare at them.
You take hold of the haori with wide eyes. “But what about you, Nemi?”
“I got more.” Sanemi shrugs nonchalantly. 
“Hm,” you hum, feeling the fabric in your hands. “Thank you. I’ll wear it on all my missions!” you place the haori over your shoulders and sigh happily.
Sanemi’s heart clenches and he inaudible sighs.
“Are you going back home?” you ask him. “I can cook us lunch if you don’t have anything to do!”
Sanemi nods and remains quiet.
“Good! Let’s go!” you hook your arm in his and begin walking.
Sanemi doesn’t mind your closeness, even if it does leave him surprised each time by just how willing you are to be entangled with him. While the pair of you stroll back to the estate in a comfortable silence, he’s thinking about just how nice you did look in your uniform - and how he didn’t like if anyone else thought the same.
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When you suggested eating, Sanemi didn’t think you would invite others. You’ve just finished cooking when a knock sounds on his shoji doors. Sanemi doesn’t answer and you’re scurrying off to answer it yourself. The door opens and you’re beaming widely. 
Sanemi wants to scoff when his brother is behind the door - him, for some odd reason Tokito and an unknown slayer with burgundy hair. 
“I hope we are not intruding.” he murmurs to you, eyes only glancing at his brother for a moment. He hadn’t spoken to Sanemi in two weeks - not since the incident. 
You are, Sanemi wants to say, but he only snickers to himself instead. 
“Of course not!” you usher for them to enter. “I hope you all are hungry.”
Tokito remains silent when he sits upon the cushioned floor. He’s seated beside Genya and beside him, the unknown burgundy haired boy.
You go to serve the food for them, Sanemi grumbling to himself. He wanted to be with you - alone - not in his own home surrounded by brats.
You take your seat beside Sanemi and smile at the group of boys. “Please, eat.”
Muichiro wastes no time in doing as he’s told. Genya can feel eyes upon him, the glaring lilac eyes of his elder brother. He tries to think of your words two weeks prior - that Sanemi did love and care for him. It was hard believing you. He never made any attempt to speak with him after the fact and he grew slightly afraid that he would attempt to hurt him again if he tried. 
“I met Shinra during Final Selection.” you tell Sanemi after a few bites of the pork cutlet. “He’s so cute.” you gush.
Shinra’s cheeks flushed crimson at the sound of his name and the compliment. He feels two sets of eyes on him - one from the white haired man who he learned quickly was a Hashira and then the boy with dark hair and a mohawk. They’re glaring, he notes, with such dark eyes and hatred. 
“Look’s weak.” Sanemi retorts, sinking his teeth in the broccoli you steamed. 
“Very.” Genya snorts.
Muichiro turns his eyes to look at Shinra and hums in agreement.
“That’s not nice.” you frown at the three of them. “Shinra’s is a very capable swordsman.”
Genya had no issue with the burgundy haired boy. He appeared to be close in age with him and Tokito. However, if he had your affection then that meant it was taken away from his brother (and him) and he didn’t like it.
“Shinra even helped me defeat a demon, right, Shinra-kun?”
Shinra feels his throat clog up at the amount of eyes on him. He finds himself nodding - even if it wasn’t the truth. You were lying to save him the embarrassment and that caused even more self-pity in him. 
“Is that so?” Sanemi snickers. He leans forward. “He doesn’t even look like he knows how to hold a sword. I’m to believe someone like him helped you?”
You nod your head. You weren’t going to let them bring down Shinra’s self esteem about himself.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t go on missions yourself.” Sanemi states. “If you need help from a weakling.”
Genya watches the way his brother glares at Shinra and now he understands where this was going. 
Sanemi was jealous - for no reason. Shinra was (for now) a weakling Mizunoto, yet you shared the rank with him. You were just lucky enough to have trained alongside several Hashira. Shinra was also only a child while you were an adult and only had eyes for Sanemi - but he knew his brother well enough to know that anyone was competition.
“Y/L-san is an amazing swordsman…woman…” Shinra’s voice is low and barely audible. He’s scared to even look the white haired man in the face but he’s grown great respect for you. “She killed the most demons during Final Selection…”
“How many did you kill?” Sanemi questions. 
“I-I…” Shinra gulps. He hasn’t killed nearly as much as you or the other survivors. He only managed to cut the heads of three - and even that took a lot out of him. 
“How about this,” Sanemi takes a bite of the pork and stands. “you show me just how good of a swordsman you are.”
“We’re eating.” you sigh, watching as Sanemi rounds the table to put (more like snatch) Shinra’s shoulder. 
“It’ll only be a moment.” Sanemi yanks Shinra from his cushioned seat and pulls him to his feet. “I have an extra sword.”
Shinra is visibly shaking in Sanemi’s tight hold. He’s pushed out the door and it causes Muichiro to snort. “Y/N.”
“Huh, yes, Tokito?” you say to him, smiling apologetically. “Is the food alright?
Muichiro nods. He licks his lips before his eyes turn to you. “Please tell Shinazugawa that no one is planning on stealing you from him.” he says nonchalantly. “All the slayers that do voice their attractions are scared of being castrated.”
You laugh nervously, eyes going wide. You feel yourself grow hot with embarrassment. 
“Genya even threatens a few that talk about you suggestively.”
Genya whips his head to glare at Muichiro, cheeks flushed. “I do not!” he hisses, denying rather quickly.
“Yes you do.” Muichiro takes a sip of his drink. “You talk down to anyone that thinks they could speak to Y/N.” Muichiro scoffs. And he was supposed to be the one with memory issues.
You get up from your cushioned seat and nod your head at the two (now bickering, more on Genya’s side than Muichiro) boys. You place a hand on both of their heads and it silences them. “You two are so cute.” you tell them. “Makes me wish I had younger siblings.” your eyes glance outside. You were going to have to save Shinra from Sanemi’s torture right about now.
You bow and excuse yourself and make your way out the shoji doors just as Sanemi swings a wooden sword Shinra’s way. “Sanemi!” you call, eyes glaring at the man. “Leave Shinra alone! We’ve come here for lunch not to train!”
Shinra’s able to dodge Sanemi’s attack by the grace of God, sweat pooling down his forehead and whimpering for whoever to save him.
Sanemi stops his attack and turns to you. You appeared to be upset, eyebrows knitted to a scowl. Your arms are crossed and for a split second his eyes flicker to your breast pressed together. 
“Shinra, let’s finish up your lunch, yeah?” you tell the boy who nods his head, far too excited to be away from the white haired maniac. 
As Shinra enters the house once more, your eyes turn to Sanemi. “What’s that about?”
Sanemi drops his wooden swords and goes to make his way back into his home. You step in front of the man. “You can’t keep harassing the slayers. They’re terrified of you!”
Sanemi scoffs. “If they’re terrified of me then a demon would have their fucking heads.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re a scary man.” 
Sanemi tilts his head and crosses his own arms. “You aren’t afraid of me.”
“Of course not.” you give him a teasing smile. “You’re nice when I’m around.”
Sanemi grumbles; maybe that’s why others would rather you be present if they had to approach him. 
“Promise me,” you begin, coming closer to him. You take his large, calloused hands in your soft ones. “That you won’t keep harassing the slayers. Especially Shinra and Genya.”
Sanemi groans. He likes the soft and gentleness of your hands on his own.
“I can’t promise that.” Sanemi says. “They all enjoy pissing me off.”
You giggle. “But they avoid you!” you exclaim. “Just try.”
Sanemi nods his head with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.” he mumbles.
You wrap your pinky around his longer one, a tint of mischief in your eyes. “Swear.”
“Swear.” Sanemi murmurs. “Whoever lies will be made to swallow a thousand needles.” the two of you say in unison, a wide smile on your lips and a low one on his.
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“CAW! Y/L Y/N is to report to Chiyoda City! A demon has been sighted in the Shrine!” Hiyori soars above you, her wings flapping.
Your eyes widen and you stand to your feet excitedly. “We’re going on a mission? Our first mission!” you were ready for a mission the same day you were given your nichirin sword.- a long sword with a black handguard that wraps right above your hand, offering an amazing grip. The blade is long and shiny against the bright sun - an emerald color shining down the sharpest part of the blade.
“Sanemi’s doing his rounds. I’m sad he wasn’t home to hear.” you feel saddened, but this was your moment to make him proud and assure that you’d come back safe. 
You make your journey out of the estate with Hiyori flying above you, leading the way. You’re pumping with excitement that it’s ridiculous. You were going head first to a demon - but you were bouncing with joy as if you were meeting your husband. You were just ecstatic to kill as many demons as you could and work your way up the ranks. You heard the amount of people wishing to become Hashira, but you’re content not being one. The 9 Hashira you’ve met were more than amazing at their jobs.
You reach the area in the middle of the night, the moon shining brightly and the area quietly. The air appears to be murky and foggy, a low fog that’s nearly blinding. You slow your walk, drawing your blade while your eyes scan the area. 
A sound to your left heightens your senses. More sounds from your right, above and even forward you. Small figures appear, no taller than toddler sizes. They’re demons - eyes black and soulless. There’s scars oozing blood beneath both of their eyes and there's a shadowy smoke that surrounds them as they push closer to you. As they come closer, you note that they appear to be floating rather than walking.
You raise your sword and swing when one shadowy figure lungs at you. You slice at their head, cutting off each one with swift movements - but they appear to never stop coming. It’s as though as soon as you kill one, five more come sprinting after you. Each shadowy figure has their own weapon - a knife, sword, cutlass.
“That man despises you.” a gravelly voice hisses behind you. The shadowy figures disappear and you’re left in complete silence.
You turn around, eyes glaring into the darkness. “Show yourself!” you call into said darkness.
Your feet walk stealthy behind the shrine where what appears to be a large pond is located. The water is still; unnerved. 
“You’re nothing to him!” the same voice hisses, this time besides you and now you sense it. A hand slams against your cheek and you’re sent flying towards the pond. It wasn’t deep, luckily, and you managed to keep your sword clenched into your hands. 
You leep from the pond just as the demon lunges at you. It appears to be a woman. She’s tall, appearing just a few inches smaller than Uzui. Her eye sockets are wide but they’re soulless, no pupils in sight. Her hair is long and flowy behind her, but appears to be wet and stringy. Her skin is a dull gray color and she’s snarling at you.
“Look at you,” the demon snarls, her fingernails gnawing at her skin. “So young and beautiful. No man will ever respect such a whore!”
The demon lunges at you once more and you manage to cut her hand off, long claws falling onto the ground below you. 
A loud, blood curdling scream echoes off the trees, coming from the demon. The sound is unbearable and you’re sure the demon is causing your ears to bleed. 
You got to your knees. 
“What would your father think seeing you now?” a voice says. 
“What about your mother? Your brother?”
The atmosphere appears colder now, the screams of the demon growing louder and louder. 
“What do you think Sanemi would think of you once you die here?” the screams appear louder and you’re certain your ears are bleeding. “When you die here tonight, you will be forgotten - just like your father forgot about you.”
You can feel the anger inside of you bubbling at the taunting words of the demon. “Come with me, I’ll put you out of your miserable misery.”
You lift your sword, trying your hardest to ignore the ringing in your ear. The demon flings itself at you and in one quick movement, you’re dodging its attack and slicing off her other hand. You get to your feet, sprinting towards the Demon. It wails loudly once more, but you ignore the painful ringing in your ears. “Wind Breathing: Second Form!” you lift the sword upwards towards the right and above your head. You release four vertical slashes resembling claws towards the demon. “Claws-Purifying Wind!”
You dash towards the Demon as your attack slashes them, black blood oozing out from their wounds. You make it your mission to get rid of this demon once and for all, raising your sword and bringing it down on the demon's neck. 
You drop to your feet, eyes on the demon's head a few feet away.The screaming releasing from its throat grows silent by the second as the head begins to disintegrate. 
It takes you a moment to move, your mind racing at the words the demon said.
That man despises you.
No man will ever respect a whore.
When you die here, you’ll be forgotten.
You sheathe your sword and begin to walk. Your ears are ringing as you make your way back towards your destination, Hiyori flying above you. By the time you’d return, the sun will be present and you’d hope to come face to face with Sanemi once more. You’ve grown close to the man and it causes you great shame to know that the words of the demon got to you; causing your heart to ache. You no longer cared about your fathers thoughts about you; you dealt with the man for years and his harsh ways. But the thought of Sanemi - someone you considered to be a great friend, even someone you loved dearly - forgetting about you; despising you. 
You exhale, deciding to pick up your pace to get back to the estate - and Sanemi - faster.
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Sanemi’s sword slices against the tatami mat, slicing with ease. His mind is on you and when you are due to return. He’s upset that you were set on a mission - your first one at that - while he was out on his own. He’s positive that you were ecstatic and jumping with joy - it causes his heart to beat harder. He regrets not being there to send you off, even when his nerves screams at him to find you.
You’re an adult, he tells himself.
You’re now a slayer, fully capable of fighting low-level demons.
But still, you were someone he cared about.
Sanemi cannot keep his mind at ease when Genya is away on missions, now that he has you and his brother on his mind, he’s sure he’ll never find peace. 
Sorai, Sanemi’s crow, flocks his wings and places himself on a sliced tatami mat. The words released from the crows mouth has Sanemi’s eyes widening and his blood going cold.
Rengoku.
Dead.
Kyojuro is dead.
Sanemi’s right hand clenches his sword in his palm.
“I will annihilate all unsightly demons.” he hisses, turning away to make his way out of his home. His heart is pumping out his chest now and his nerves are screaming.
Kyojuro was a Hashira - a skilled one. What did that mean for you and Genya? You were out on a mission as we speak, too far away to know of Kyojuro’s death but that doesn’t ease his nerves one bit. He feels jittery. His mind is wandering to you fighting whatever demon you were sent out to and returning with serious injuries. His heart clenches when his mind flashes with you covered in blood, body lifeless. 
“Sorai!” Sanemi hisses and his crow squawks. “Go find Y/N.”
Sorai flocks his wings and begins his journey. Lilac eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a mere figure in the sky. 
Sanemi inhales deeply and exhales. He runs a calloused hand through his hair and down his face. He notices that his hand is trembling lightly with nerves.
You release a low sigh when you notice the familiar sight of the Butterfly Mansion. Your body aches and your ears are still ringing, but you manage to make it in one piece.
“CAW!”
Sharp feet landed upon your head.You hiss at the impact, wailing your hands around. “Sorai?” you murmur. “Where’s Sanemi?” you ask the crow. 
“Shinazugawa-sama has sent me to assure your safety!” the crow squawks.
You find yourself grinning. You pet the crows head lightly. “Yes, I’ve arrived safely.” you tell him. “I’m going to the Butterfly Mansion to assure my injuries aren’t severe.”
Sorai squawks again, wings flapping to fly and give the news to Sanemi.
You enter the mansion to find it surprisingly quiet.
“Y/N-chan!”
It’s Naho. She’s crying at the sight of you - did you look that bad?
“I’ll go get Aoi! Shinobu-san is busy.”
You follow behind her to the infirmary. You’re glad you can finally lay down and relax.
You enter the room and groan. You fell onto the nearest bed and sighed.
“You must be in such pain.” Aoi murmurs, eyeing the way your ears hold dried blood. 
“Little bit.” you mumble a response. “Just feel a little…tired.” you close your eyes, lids feeling heavy.
“Okay. You can sleep,Y/N-chan. I’ll give you some medicine for your wounds.”
You’re into a deep sleep by the time you hear Aoi’s words. It felt nice to be able to relax for now and not worry about anything.
Sanemi slams the shoji doors open, causing several nurses to yelp in surprise. 
“Shinazugawa!” Aoi growls, eyebrows knitting into a scowl. “How many times-”
“What happened to her?”
Aoi watches with angered eyes as Sanemi stalks towards your sleeping figure.
Sanemi lowers himself to inspect you. There’s a few scratches on your skin and blood (dried) on the sides of your ears.
“She passed out around 10 minutes ago.” Aoi responds. “Now leave, she needs-”
Sanemi sits on the bed beside yours, deciding to ignore Aoi altogether. Aoi scoffs. She turns her head to the other nurses and nods. They continue to scurry off out of the room. 
“I’ll be back with some medicine for her.” Aoi grumbles and makes her way out of the room.
Sanemi allows himself to breathe now. When Sorai had come back to him and stated that you had returned safely but at the Butterfly Mansion, he had to be sure you were safe. 
It was three hours later when you finally stirred awake. You feel groggily and your eyes are heavy. You yawned, pushing yourself up in the bed. 
“You’re awake.”
You yelp at the sudden voice. “Nemi.” 
Sanemi’s arms are crossed over his chest, eyes studying you.
“How long have you been here?”
Sanemi shrugs. “Not too long.” Sanemi responds. He hasn’t left since you were emitted. 
“Ah,” you lean against the metal frame. “I’ve returned from my mission.”
You’re smiling tiredly at him.
“My heart feels so full and heavy. My mind cannot focus on anything.” you explain. “It’s all so overwhelming to return alive and well.”
“Your ears are bleeding. Are you sure you’re well?”
“Yes.” you nod. “The demon was a very loud screamer.” you giggle to yourself. 
Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how he was going to tell you about Kyojuro. You’ve grown close to the man and learning of his death would cause you great sorrow, and he didn’t like to see you upset or sad. 
“Nemi?”
“Kyojuro…” Sanemi begins. “...went on a mission before you had. He didn’t make it.”
You tilt your head, ears registering his words. 
“Kyojuro…is dead?” you swallow, throat dry.
It feels foolish to cry for someone knowing that this life was never guaranteed. You’ve grown close to him, sometimes speaking with him whenever you were free. 
“Nemi…” you trail off, feeling your eyes become wet. You feel for Kyojuro and his family and it even feels selfish of you to be scared for Sanemi’s life now. Kyojuro was a Hashira just like Sanemi and if he was ultimately brought to death…
Your legs ache, but you do not hesitate to jump from your bed to where Sanemi sat. You wrapped him in a tight embrace, wet eyes crushing into his neck.
Sanemi’s shocked by your actions. He didn’t know Kyojuro’s death would impact you this much.
You sniffled in his neck. “I don’t want you to ever be in harm's way.” you murmur. Sanemi, Genya, Shinra…you didn’t want to see death for anyone apart from the Corps. 
Sanemi gulps. He places an arm around you to bring you closer. He doesn’t usually touch you - sober, that was - but you were always clingy. He wants to comfort you, to tell you that everything would be alright. He wants to tell you that he wasn’t going to die - but he doesn’t wish to disappoint you with false promises he couldn’t guarantee. 
Sanemi doesn’t speak as he holds onto you, but he’s positive that he too does not wish you to ever be in harm's way - he’s unsure if he would be able to live with himself if you or Genya didn’t come back from a mission alive.
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The next few months consist of you and Sanemi attending missions alongside one another, sometimes with other slayers. You want to question why you haven’t been on a solo mission, but you don’t. You assume after Kyojuro’s death, that the Corps would rather keep lower ranks with higher ones, but you cannot be 100% sure. 
However, you wouldn’t complain about being sent out with Sanemi. He was more of a guide, making sure nothing got too hectic for you - and it never did. He allowed you to behead any demons that you saw and the mission was complete. Then the two of you would return back to the estate until the next mission.
Weekly, you would have lunch that you’d cook with Sanemi, Genya, Shinra and Muichiro (whenever they weren’t sent on missions). Sanemi managed to bite his tongue and instead would grumble to himself, but it was progress. You enjoyed cooking for them and saw the three younger boys as little brothers.
Sanemi drew the line when you invited more - Tanjiro was such a lovely boy that you couldn’t help but want to feed him. With Tanjiro came Zenitsu and Inosuke - a brawl ensued when Inosuke insulted Sanemi and Genya retorted, both teenagers throwing insults and punches. But you enjoyed the lunch, nonetheless.
“We have another mission.” Sanemi says during breakfast. “Hiyori delivered it while you were bathing.”
“Ah, is that so?” you bring the sweet potato in your mouth and bite. 
Sanemi nods. “A Hashira is to be present. Me.” he says. “More slayers are attending, as well. We were told to pack a bag - it might take longer than we expect.”
You nod and when the two of you are done with breakfast, you go to pack your bag. It can be classified as an undercover mission, so casual wear is expected. 
It’s not long that you, Sanemi and a group of slayers are making your journey to Shinjuku, expected to arrive right in the evening. Sanemi wasn’t one to make stops, so you managed to pack a few snacks for the long way.
Once you arrive to Shinjuku you’re relieved. The sun was barely shining and you just wanted to find whatever demon was here and kill it. Seeing as the lot of you were expected to be undercover, you’re sure it wouldn’t work out that way.
“You,” Sanemi points to a group of 5 slayers. “find an inn and see what you can gather about our mission.”
The five slayers bow and head on their way. Sanemi’s turns his eyes to another four. “You do the same in the opposite direction.”
There's only you, him and two slayers left - one girl named Sumire and a boy by the name of Roshi. “There’s an inn on the outskirts of Shinjuku. We’ll head there, find a room and change. The sun will fall soon and we’ll have to investigate whatever demon lurks here.”
The inn wasn’t far and a ten minute walk has you four arriving there. It appears to be the nicest Inn in the city for it to be such a long distance from it. 
“Welcome in!” a woman behind the counter eyes the four of you, her eyes recognizing the uniform displayed. “Two rooms?”
“Four.” Sanemi corrects.
“Ah…” the woman leans forward, eyes staring at Sanemi’s chest, a grin formed onto her lips. “I apologize, sir, but we only do couples in Shinjuku.”
Sanemi scoffs. “What type of shit is that?” he hisses. He’s never heard of an entire city only catering to couples.
“We’re known as a honeymoon retreat here.” the lady shrugs. “I do apologize for any inconvenience.”
“It’s fine.” you sigh. “I can room with Sumire-”
“Please don’t.” Roshi whimpers, shaking his head. He wanted to be nowhere near Sanemi - especially not when his annoyance was rising. “I’ll take the floor so Sumire can have the bed - really!”
“Then it’s settled. Two rooms for two couples.” the lady turns to grasp a set of keys in both manicured hands and she dangles them out for you all to grasp.
Sanemi snatches the key and scurries down the hall while Sumire takes the other.
“We’ll get settled, changed and make our way out for the night.” you tell Sumire and Roshi.
“Yes.” Sumire and Roshi reply in unison.
Sanemi slams the door shut as the two of you enter, dropping his bag onto the large bed. 
“The sun will be setting soon.” you note aloud. “Do we have a set plan?”
“There’s obviously something going on here.” Sanemi says. He removes a yukata from his belongings. “Shinjuku was not known to be a couples retreat - not until now.”
“Do you think whatever demons here are targeting couples?” you tilt your head to think. Eating two people would be smarter than one, but still, a demon was stronger than a regular civilian. “It seems to be a lot of effort on the demon's part.”
Sanemi shrugs. Whatever the demon was doing, he’d be sure to put an end to it. 
Sanemi and you roamed Shinjuku. It appeared bright even when the sun was down. You noticed that it indeed was a couples affair - you noticed no one walking alone. What also caught your attention was the lack of children present - or those who were older.
“You two look new here.”
Sanemi’s eyes flicker to the voice.
“We are.” you smile at them, inching closer to Sanemi.
“Oh! How long have you two been married?” the woman asks and now you’re unsure what to say. 
“Honeymoon.” Sanemi responds. “Was recommended by a friend.”
The woman nods her head. “It’s amazing here! We’ve been here twice already. Have you two been to…”
You await for her to continue, but her eyes look as if waiting for you to catch on.
“...Uh…?” you turn to Sanemi who doesn’t even look interested.
“The couples…brothel?”  the woman flushes bright red as she speaks, her husband laughing nervously.
“Couples brothel?”
Sanemi was intrigued now.
“Yes. You have to be approved first - we haven’t.”
“What do you do there?” you ask, unsure of what in the world this mission was going to put you through.
“If approved, you get to be doted on…” the woman is far too embarrassed to continue but you’re sure you get where she’s going.
“Ah.” you nod your head. “I never knew that was something.”
“Yes. It happens every day at a different inn.” the husband says.
“Today should be…”
Sanemi sighs. He has a guess of what inn it would be happening at.
“We have to go.” Sanemi says, stomping off. 
“Sorai.” Your eyes look into the sky at the flying bird. “Inform the other slayers of the demon. Tell them to patrol the streets and make sure no civilians are harmed.”
“Where are we-”
“Back to the Inn.” Sanemi answers your question before you can respond. “That woman insisted on couples because that’s how the demon feeds without getting caught.”
“She chooses her victims strategically.” you murmur. “Not everyone gets accepted.”
“She must know we’re slayers - or at least senses that there’s something off about us.” Sanemi picks up the pace. “Only way to find out…”
Sanemi wraps you in a tight embrace as you both enter the inn. It catches you by surprise - his sudden closeness.
“Hello!” a lady claps her hands at your arrival. “Are you guests here already?” it’s not the same woman as yesterday, you note. 
Sanemi nods his head, arms wrapped tightly around you. “Yes. We’re hoping we can join.”
The woman is nodding, quite aware of what Sanemi is asking of her. “You’re in luck. Our mistress had not yet chosen a couple.” she eyes the way you and Sanemi appear. “I’m positive we found a good choice in the two of you.”
Sanemi swallows. He’s unsure how, but she knows there’s something off about the two of you - you aren’t an ordinary couple. She’s no demon, he would know if she was. 
“Follow me,” the woman motions with her hand for the two of you to come.
You walk, as does Sanemi. He won’t admit it, but having your body against his makes him feel at ease; just knowing you’re close and away from harm.
The hallway is long and seemingly away from the other rooms of the inn. The lights grow dim the closer the three of you step. You were sure it had to do with the demon.
“Go right into the room. The mistress will be in shortly. There are refreshments inside, as well.” The woman slides open the doors and bows as you enter. “Do have some fun while you wait.” She shuts them and you hear her footsteps pat down the hall until they’re inaudible.
“Room’s nice.” your eyes scan around the room, appearing quite large in size and lights just as dim as the hallway.
Sanemi grunts but doesn’t say a response. He sits upon the mat, eyes scanning for any sign of the demon.
You take a seat besides him and inhale. The room was humid.
“Have your sword ready.” Sanemi murmurs. You’re seated besides him, far too close. His noses appear to be heightened, your aroma nearly intoxicating him. He swallows thickly.
“It’s fucking hot.” Sanemi hisses. “Where’s that bitch?”
You were beginning to feel the same way. Your kimono wasn’t tight, but it felt as if it was sticking to you. The air felt so heavy, humid and…you shiver, goosebumps erupting onto your skin.
“I feel weird.” you tell Sanemi after a long moment. 
Sanemi’s eyes turn to you besides him. He notes there’s sweat lining your forehead and you’re panting lightly. Your legs are shuffling together, hands clenching in your lap. He notes that in the midst of your anxious state, you loosened your kimono and beneath it shows your uniform - the same uniform you wore when he gifted you his haori. He’d scream and berate the perverted kakushi for a new uniform just for you to wear both, stating that you didn’t want to be a bother. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the way you looked in it, not at all. He enjoyed it too much, often finding his eyes and mind wandering to places they shouldn’t. 
“You should drink something.” Sanemi tears his eyes away from you to eye the refreshments besides them. There isn’t any water, just wine, but it’ll have to do. “Just enough so you won’t feel parched.”
You nod your head. You wouldn’t be off your game after a sip of wine. You reach for the wine besides Sanemi, a low apology when your arm touches his. It sends a jolt throughout him, this time reaching lower than his heart. 
Sanemi’s eyes are shameless now. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s watching you. Your hands are shaking as you take the bottle of wine in your hands. You unscrew it and begin to pour. “W-Would you like some?”
Sanemi blinks at the sound of your voice, but he nods. He takes the small, silver goblet from your trembling hands and nods his thanks. He drinks the wine in one swift movement, downing it while his eyes watch yours. He was sure he could have another, and another as long as you served him. 
You aren’t as fast as Sanemi. You smell the wine first before going in to take a sip. It’s good - expensive too. You find yourself drinking the wine keen, enjoying the refreshing taste it gives.
Sanemi’s eyes watch as the wine, a crimson red color, drips from the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, to your chin and drips onto your collarbone. It teases him, he thinks, as it slowly drips onto your exposed breasts.
Sanemi licks his lips and groans. He yanks the wine bottle and pours himself another and downs it. He goes to pour himself another one, but he feels a hand on his wrist.
“You’re going to drink it all.” you say, voice laced with mischief. 
Sanemi inhales. The room was growing hotter.
Sanemi pours the wine, but this time he doesn’t drink it. He lifts it to your own lips, tapping them so you’d open them. You do, gently drinking the wine from his hands. You couldn’t contain the laughter coming from your throat as you do so, the wine splashing onto your kimono.
Sanemi feels hot all over again, his uniform beneath his yukata growing tighter. 
“Nemi?”
Sanemi gulps. “Hm?”
“Do you think I’m hot?”
Sanemi coughs at your question, flushing. 
Why was the room growing hotter?
Why does his clothes feel like they’re sticking to him?
Sanemi was growing confused by the second - why were the two of you even in this room?
“Why do you ask?” Sanemi drops the goblet.
“Because you never say it.” Were you intoxicated now? You didn’t appear to be, your words weren’t slurring and your vision didn’t appear hazy. “Are you attracted to me?” Sanemi feels you come closer. He’s stiff - you had to be drunk. You’re pushing off your kimono, now just only in the revealing corp uniform. He gasps when you climb into his lap, both legs trapping him beneath you.
“You look scared.” You were teasing him. You sit directly onto him, the bulge of his cock twitching when he feels the heartbeat that’s your pussy. “You’re supposed to be the fearless Wind Hashira.”
Sanemi places his hands against your exposed thighs and groans at the smoothness of your skin. He’d often wake from dreams of you and him being in this very position - he’d either have to shower with the coldest water or pump himself until he was cumming. The last option was the most embarrassing. 
“Are you afraid of me?” you’re teasing him again, repeating the same words he said to you in Asakusa. Though he wasn’t pressing himself against you like this, he wouldn’t complain either.
Sanemi groans once more at the feeling of you slightly grinding against him. 
Yes, Sanemi was afraid of you. You made him feel different - the jolting in his heart that dives all the way down to his cock. He often finds himself staring at you, so long that his eyes grow dry and he has to blink just to regain moisture. He often has to hear Uzui’s and Shinobu’s teasing of his feelings for you, no matter how much he attempts to deny it himself.
“No.” Sanemi murmurs, even if it was a lie. 
“Then kiss me.” you lean forward, inches away from Sanemi’s lips. He gulps, licking his lips. Your lavender aroma fills his nostrils and he finds all the sanity he had left gone. 
Sanemi presses his lips against yours, his fingernails digging into the skin of your thigh. He doesn’t want to let you go - whatever this was he doesn’t want it to end. All that clouds his thoughts now were you - your scent, your touch, the sound of you. It intoxicates him that whatever the two of you were initially supposed to be doing in this room has since been forgotten. 
You feel your throat tighten and you’re being lifted. Your eyes shoot open and you’re gasping for air, eyes watching someone - you? It wasn’t you.
The demon had taken the form of you now, leaning against a panting Sanemi. He’s in a trance, you note, not noticing that he was now in the hands of the demon. Her eyes look up at you once for a second and now, your blood is running cold. ‘Lower Rank Six’ engraved into her eyes. 
You struggle to get yourself loose. It’s obvious that the demon has Sanemi in a trance and you were the one that needed to behead the bitch.
“Thank you for bringing me a Hashira.” the demon cackles. “I can show my lord that I am capable of killing a Hashira and then I’ll work my way up. He has given me a second chance just for this moment!”
You struggle against a hooked tail, but manage to get one arm loose to unsheathe your sword. You swipe at it, slashing it so you can release yourself. “Get away from him!”
The demon’s eyes widen but she then laughs. “I’m sorry I have to consume your lover.” she taunts. “Virgins don’t know what to do with a man.” the demon taunts. The air appears to be foggy and once again you feel hot with desire. 
“You’re nothing but a demon that’s going to die here.” you spit at her.
The demon shrieks at your words. “Such a disgusting human! You don’t deserve to be in my presence!”
You swipe your sword to dodge her attack. You needed to get this over with now before you wasted any more time. Your mind was fogging with whatever she’s done, an obvious demon blood art. 
“You’re nothing but a weak lower moon.” you spat back at her with the same venom. 
The demon hisses and sends an array of attacks with her hooked tail. “Wind Breathing: Third Form:” you proceed to release a whirlwind of slashes around you to defend yourself from her attack.”Clean Storm Wind Tree!”  Your eyes focus on her neck - you had to finish her off now. You raise your sword and slash it across her neck, a clean swipe that cuts the demon’s head right off. 
The demon screams at her sudden defeat, but another gush of fog surrounds the entirety of the room just as her head and body harshly crash onto the ground. 
You drop your sword beside you, making your way to Sanemi. His eyes are closed and he appears to be asleep.
“Nemi?” you call, falling to your knees. You place a hand upon his cheek and flinch when his eyes dart open. “Nemi…”
Your words trailed off and neither of you talked, only stared at the other. The room was boiling now, sweat pooling off of your body. You were sure you’d hear a pin drop with how silent the room remained.
“We should…go…” you managed to speak, but it was difficult. Your throat is dry and your ears are beginning to ring. Your clothing is uncomfortable and tight, sticking to your skin like glue. “Nemi…I-I don’t feel good.” you admit to him after another few moments of tortured silence. Your legs are beginning to clench together, the friction feeling good, an electric shock between your legs. 
You knew this feeling, you were no prude. You were sexually frustrated. There was no doubt a wet spot between your legs and the friction of your thighs clenching together brought a temporary satisfaction. You would admit that you touched yourself often when you needed to just to let loose and unwind, but that frustration wasn’t anywhere near how you felt now. 
You scoff bitterly to yourself. To think you endured hellish training to become a slayer just for sexual frustration to be your downfall.
“Let’s go.” Sanemi nods, head heavy. “We need to get our stuff from the room.”
Standing is difficult for Sanemi. His clothing is tight and there’s an obvious bulge in his uniform pants. He allows you to lead the way, his sane mind screaming to not stare at the way your ass moves, but he doesn’t care. He was a man, after all, a man drugged by a demon. He wants to laugh at the circumstances.
The woman is nowhere to be found when you pass the front end of the inn. You assumed she was nothing but a pawn for the demon and was left alive as long as she offered her humans to consume.
Entering the bedroom, you close the shoji doors behind you and Sanemi.
“I hope everyone else is alright.” you murmur to yourself, leaning against the door. “We should probably be heading out-” You stop speaking once you realize Sanemi’s hands are clenching his hair tightly. His chest is rising and falling and he appears to be in pain.
“Nemi-” you reach out to touch him, but Sanmi harshly pushes you away. Your eyes widen at the sudden action. “I-I…are you in pain? I-”
“Leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s gruff voice startles you. “Go to Kocho and take the slayers with you.”
“I can’t leave you here.” you say. You’re ashamed that his voice turns you on. You hold the edge of your uniform skirt. “You’re in pain-”
“You know I’m not in pain!” Sanemi hisses. His tone would have anyone else cowering, but here you stood with wide (heart) eyes and clenching thighs. “You know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
You gulp at his words.
“I’m trying my hardest not to fuck you against the wall.” Sanemi stares at your face. “Leave. Now.”
Sanemi turns away from you and you’re shocked by his choice of words. You’re certain the demon art is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you. 
But…there it was. The sensation pooling between your legs - the heartbeat taunting you. His words made you wet, you note. It was a warning - don’t come closer, don’t keep trying to help; run away before he’d do something that he wouldn’t do normally. It’s a sort of adrenaline rush to be playing with fire.
“I can help you.” you gulp. You decide to step closer to him and wrap your hands onto his bicep. “I want-”
Sanemi’s fast in his action, gripping your jaw to press a firm kiss upon your lips. He’s holding back, you know, not wishing to hurt you. He knows you haven’t done this before and the sane part of him wants to stop - to not take you while he cannot control himself. “You need to leave, Y/N.” Sanemi’s pleading with you now. He didn’t want to have your first time like this. He’s trembling, all ounce of strength fighting animalistic urges. He almost feels nauseous, mind flashing in all the ways he could take you right now - how vulnerable you’d be beneath him and how good you’d look stuffed with his seed.
Sanemi shakes his head aggressively, wanting to get rid of the perverted thoughts of you, but he cannot. It’s humiliating to think that these thoughts were there before, but with the demon art, it’s completely unbearable. 
You were always the stubborn one, never heeding warning. You raise a hand to place it upon his yukuta. You clench it to pull him forward to press your lips upon his once more. Sanemi’s breathing intensifies in the kiss and still, there’s a little part in him that’s holding back the urges to completely demolish you like the demon art (and him, as well) desired. 
“Let me help you, Nemi. It doesn’t matter how long it takes!” you’re pleading with him now, heavily panting when you release his lips for oxygen. You’re also affected by the demon art, even if your own desires were buried deep. “You’d help me so much. I can do the same.” The sound of your begs drive Sanemi wild, his mind refusing to stop sending the illusions of you in different, perverted positions until he acts upon them.
Sanemi’s hands reach out to touch you, bringing you closer to him. You’re against his chest and when his hands sneak out to touch the curves of your body, he knows he won’t be able to stop. 
Stop - Sanemi tells himself.
You'll regret this.
He’d regret this.
He’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state - this isn’t you, this is the demon art.
You want this - another part of his brain denies the sane part of him. There’s an internal dialogue happening right in his mind.
He wanted this. He’d always wanted this.
He wanted to be deep inside of you - so deep that there wasn’t a way you couldn’t not be impregnated.
You’d be his and his alone - you’d give him the family he desired.
“Nemi, please…”
Sanemi doesn’t hold back any longer, fully succumbing to the demon art that’s blinding his best judgment. Your back slams against the futon, sending shocks all over your body, but you aren’t upset at Sanemi’s sudden change in demeanor. His hands are ripping at your uniform, not caring about any damage it causes. He shudders when his hands finally manage to touch you. The countless times he would touch himself to any little amount of skin you showed him - and now you were nearly nude before him.
Sanemi never wanted to thank a demon before in his life.
You’re moaning when Sanemi’s lips kiss along your neck, tongue trailing along as he does so. His hands are groping your breast, the bandages binding them are ripped apart in seconds and they spring free.
Sanemi’s face is between your breasts in seconds, kissing sloppily. You’re so beautiful. He wanted to admire your beauty as much as he could - there was no going back now and who knows what would happen when the demon art wore off. But Sanemi couldn’t slow his pace now, you made him delirious.
Your body jerks when you feel a warm, wet sensation on your nipples. Sanemi’s tongue suckles on your left while his thumb tugs on the right. It causes you to moan louder, the feeling foreign and you never wanted it to end. 
It wasn’t soon until Sanemi had you fully naked before him. He’s in awe, truly, eyes completely blown out. It’s unclear to him how he could still manage to hold back completely being barbaric when it comes to the sight of you, but maybe it’s the respect he held dear to his heart for you.
Sanemi’s lips kiss down your breast, to your stomach down to your abdomen. He pushes your legs apart and swallows when he catches sight just how wet you were.
You squirm under Sanemi’s gaze, unsure what he was doing. You go to close your legs but Sanemi only pushes them apart further.
“N-Nemi!” you gasp once you feel his tongue flat against your clit. It’s a weird feeling of euphoria that has your eyes rolling. “S-stop!” you’re struggling against Sanemi’s tongue, doing everything in your power to get him to stop. “I can’t take anymore, Nemi…”
Sanemi doesn’t care about your babblings. Your taste intoxicates him just like your scent does. Your moans are so sweet, like his favorite tune playing again and again in his ears. His fingernails dig into the skin of your thigh and he’s bobbing his head back and forth over and over again until you’re sobbing.
Sanemi lifts his head from your swollen clit and licks his lips. He’s hovering above your twitching form and even now as you’re overstimulated with pleasure and sobbing, he cannot bring himself to stop. 
“Nemi…”
Sanemi presses three fingers against your clit, rubbing tauntingly. “You can take it.” he encourages. After all, if you cannot handle his tongue and fingers, how’d you ever handle his cock?
Sanemi rubs a few more times before his fingers inch inside of you. His lips are kissing along your face, kissing along at the tears of pleasure. 
You’re tight and it excites Sanemi. Knowing that he would be the one to deflower you - be the first (and preferably only) man you’d been with. It causes goosebumps to litter his skin.
The feeling of Sanemi’s fingers inside of you hurts - you’ve never done so before. He isn’t going slow either to allow you to adjust, he’s pumping with such force that it compels you into pleasure. 
“I feel weird, Nemi…” you’re panting, feeling the bubbling feeling deep in your stomach. “Stop, I-I don’t wanna cum like this.” your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him - even if Sanemi refuses. “I wanna feel you around me when I do.”
Sanemi’s cock twitches at your words, but he wastes no time.
With hooded eyes, you watch as Sanemi undresses. You hadn’t realized just how clothed he was while you laid completely bare. 
Sanemi’s body was beautiful, chiseled muscles sculpting his entire body. You flush at the sight of his completely nude body - cock erect. Your legs twitch with nervousness..
Sanemi hovers above you. There’s a flash in his eyes - you notice. His forehead is pressed against yours and for a moment his eyes are soft, no longer harboring the feral reaction.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” he murmurs to you. It’s the voice that belonged to Sanemi - not the one under the demon art, but the man that you trained alongside for a year.
You didn’t have the chance to respond. Sanemi is entering you now and your hands go to clench his biceps harshly. It doesn’t hurt him, of course, but the pressure for you is nearly unbearable. Your legs wrap around him tight, hoping he wouldn’t move too soon.
You inhale deeply, trembling with the newfound pain. Sanemi is big - but any cock would be for you. You just hoped Sanemi wasn’t far too gone in the demon’s spell and wouldn’t hurt you too much.
Sanemi’s patience was slowly breaking. He found himself grinding into her for any sort of friction or pleasure. There’s only so much a man like him could take, his mind kept replaying the countless ways he could take you right now and he was truly fighting an internal battle. 
Sanemi thrusted out of you fully to thrust back in. You released a surprised wail, eyes shutting tight. Your fingernails would be another scar left upon his skin.
“I can’t take it.” you cry out, walls completely sore by taking his cock in you fully. The pressure was unbearable and by the looks of the man, he appeared utterly insatiable. 
“You can.” Sanemi’s voice is so raspy and deep that you were positive he was far gone. He continues to thrust deep inside of you that your back hits the futon with each thrust. He’s strong - far stronger than you’d ever hope to be - and getting him to stop was going to be difficult.
You felt the hot tears pool down your cheeks. You were being stretched out far too much for you to keep your composure. You were clenching around him so heavenly that he never wanted to stop - never wanted to be out of you; without you.
“Nemi, please…”
Sanemi’s hips buckled and he halts his movements. 
Keep going - the voice in his mind tells him.
But it’s your sadden pleas that has his sanity coming back - just for a moment. He witnesses your tears falling and his heart aches - was he the one making you cry?
Sanemi goes to pull himself out, but you stop him. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer to you. His chest is against yours while your lips lined up against his ears. You’re panting, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to his size. 
Sanemi’s arms wrap around your body, the intimate moment was one he wished he could remain in forever; never wishing to let you go. 
“Nemi?”
You clench around him and Sanemi hums a response. You loosen your hold onto him, a signal that you wanted him to continue. 
Sanemi grinds inside of you, his hold on you only growing tighter. He’s deep, never wishing to be anywhere else but inside of you. He picks up his pace, noticing how your cries were becoming moans. 
This is what sex felt like. The pain was slowly subsiding and the pleasure was taking over. You can hear the way your pussy sounds against his pumping cock - wet and inviting, satiating his hunger for you. 
Sanemi releases his hold on you to lean back. His eyes are hooded as he watches the way your breast bounces. He picks up the pace, cock sliding in and out of you - rougher, deeper, faster.
So beautiful, Sanemi thinks. So beautiful and his - all his. The dark thoughts were coming back with each passing second and his sanity was losing to the demonic spell. 
You yourself felt whatever sanity you had left was now leaving. You no longer cared if Sanemi was hurting you or not - what you did know was that now you felt good; so good. His cock pumps inside of you at an alarming pace that would even be considered pleasurable if you weren’t receiving it. 
Sanemi’s hands grip your breast so tightly that he's sure they would leave marks. His eyes fixated on the bulge of your stomach, mind racing with the thought of you round and pregnant with his child. He allows one hand to leave your breast to cup your stomach, rubbing lightly as he fucks you.
“I can’t wait to fuck a baby in you.”
Sanemi’s words would cause you to gasp if you weren’t caught in the moment. Your mind was fucked out with how good he’s fucking you that a baby didn’t seem bad - how the two of you forgotten about the world full of demons and the mission you were currently on.
“Get you nice and pregnant. I’ll take care of you.” He’s now hitting your g-spot as he speaks, eyes completely blown out with pleasure. Your knees are touching your shoulders and you’re positive you’ve never been this flexible before. “I’ll take care of all of our kids.”
You’re crying beneath him, pleasure overwhelming. Your sobs don’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t care. He’ll fuck you until he was done - fuck you until he was sure you were pregnat with the child he was promising you.
“I want them to look just like you. So perfect.” Sanemi moans at the thought of you full of cum, round with his child.
You’re cumming, writhing beneath him. You’re soaking the futon beneath the two of you, but neither of you care. Sanemi was on a mission - a rampage. Nothing was going to stop him from achieving his perverted dreams.
Sanemi cums deep inside of you, twitching as he does so. He’s panting while sweat pools off of his skin and onto yours.
Sanemi wants more.
He flips you over, face burning into the futon. He enters you like an animal, continuing the brutal pace. He’s fucking into you deeper, your screams echoing off the room walls. If anyone was inside the inn, neither of you cared. He almost wished someone was listening so they could hear how good he was fucking you.
You’re drooling. You could no longer focus on anything but the cock inside of you - and even then you wanted more. Was this what heaven felt like? Paradise? To be stuff so good but the man you adored that you never wanted it to end?
How could you go back to pleasuring yourself when Sanemi knew how to do it so wonderfully?
Sanemi filled you again - three more times before he changed the position. He brought you on top of him and fucked into you, not allowing you any control. The stamina of a Hashira was amazing. He fucked you like a ragdoll, but you had no complaints.
His fucking dragged on majority of the night - against the wall, in his arms, on your back, on your side - every position he deemed fuckable, he had you in.He would hiss such dirty worlds in your ears that you’d convulse into a cumming mess for him.
One things for certain - neither of you wanted this night to end.
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Your legs ached, as did the entirety of your body. 
You stirred away, the sun from the open window blinding your eyes.
You push yourself up from the futon, the blanket you were wrapped in falling to expose your naked figure.
You were sore and one look at your appearance has your mind fluttering with memories.
“Nemi…?” you call out to nothing. You were alone in the room the two of you shared the night prior. You scanned the area to find no trace of him - not even his belongings.
Your legs tremble as you stand to your feet. You take nearly 10 minutes to get dressed, but you cannot be blamed. Your body is covered with bruises and marks that hiding it with Sanemi’s gifted haori was difficult, but manageable. 
You make your way out of the room, belongings in hand. You walk past the innkeeper who doesn’t say a word - a different woman from the first two you met the day prior. 
“CAW!”
Hiyori flies above you just as you exit the inn. If you had to guess, it was an hour before noon.
“Y/L Y/N is to report to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment! Y/L Y/N and others to the Butterfly Mansion!”
“Hiyori.” you call the crow, holding out your arm. “Where’s Sanemi?”
“Shinazugawa-sama has left on his own in the morning!”
Left.
Sanemi had left you here?
Alone?
“Y/N!”
It’s Sumire and Roshi, returning back to you appearing slightly disheveled. 
“W-What-”
“Don’t ask.” Sumire’s flushing bright red.
“Please.” Rochi murmurs and you notice none of them can look the other in the eye.
Your mind connects the dots.
You and Sanemi were not the only two subjected to the demon’s spell.
“Did you see Sanemi leave?” you ask the two slayers.
“Yes. Shinazugawa-sama took the others and left. We were told to wait for you.” Sumire exclaims. “Didn’t say much but to wait until you were up to head to the Butterfly Mansion.”
You nod your head. You swallow, heart aching with the realization that Sanemi had left you.
Had Sanemi regretted the night with you? Had he woke up disgusted with your actions that he didn’t even wish to look at you?
No.
Sanemi wasn’t like this. He didn’t run from his issues. He had to go to the Butterfly Mansion with the other slayers. You wouldn’t think too much into it.
But it was hard not to think too much into it, you think. The entire journey to the Butterfly Mansion had left you completely distracted by memories of the previous night and the nervousness of having to face the Wind Hashira once more. 
The Butterfly Mansion was hectic, nurses scurrying around to help while Kakushi lined up to do the same. You almost felt out of place coming here. You didn’t even have any scars from the attack with the demon and it appears Sumire and Roshi were alright, as well, only a bit awkward.
“Are you two alright?” you turn to the two slayers who nod, avoiding contact with the other. “The mission wasn’t as deadly as we expected. The Lower Moon-”
“Lower Moon?!” Roshi and Sumire gasp in unison with wide eyes. “There was a lower moon there?” Sumire questions. 
“We fought off a few demons but they weren’t strong. They might have been only a few years turned.”
You nod your head. “Yes.” you look between the two of them. “Her demon art was…powerful. Are you sure the two of you are alright?”
You see flashes in your mind of you and Sanemi together the entirety of the night.
“Yes.” Roshi’s cheeks are dusty red.
“Yea.” Sumire responds, as well. 
You nod your head and offer the two of them a soft smile. “Okay. Good job on the mission.” you tell them. “Please rest.”
Your eyes watch Sumire and Hoshi scurry away and you release an exhausted sigh. 
“Y/N?”
Your head snaps to the sound of your name. You bow to Shinobu who does the same. 
“Are you alright? I heard your mission was successful by Shinazugawa.”
You nod your head. “Yes. I returned just now.” you wondered what else Sanemi had told her. “It’s hectic here.”
“Indeed it is. Uzui has returned with Tanjiro, Inosuke and Zenitsu. An Upper Moon was defeated.”
Your eyes widen. “An Upper Moon? Are they safe?” you returned seemingly fine after your battle - if you can even call it that, the demon appeared far too weak to be considered a part of the 12 Kizuki. You couldn’t imagine fighting an Upper Moon.
“Recovering. They’re all fallen into coma’s but we’re positive they will recover.”
A sigh of relief comes from your lips. “Uzui-san? Is he here?”
“Was. He left hours before you returned. He has retired as a Hashira.”
You were sure your eyes were going to pop out their socket one of these days. The sudden information was hitting you at each possible angle. 
“I know you’ve grown attached to the younger slayers. Maybe you can come visit them once everything settles down.” Shinobu offers a smile. “Uzui is at his estate with his wives as if he didn’t lose an eye or hand. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”
“Huh?!” your hands clench at - yet again - another sudden information. Uzui was a Hashira, so tall and muscular and extremely skilled. 
“Uzui is fine, truly. Rambling on about appearing even more flashy with an eyepatch.” Shinobu giggles slightly. “How are you, Y/N? Shinazugawa was here earlier but nothing appeared to be wrong with him or the others. I assume the same goes for you?”
You swallow and nod.
“Good.” Shinobu scans your appearance. You had the white haori that once belonged to Sanemi wrapped tightly around your frame. You showed no skin - which wasn’t exactly alarming, but you also never appeared so awkwardly nervous. 
Shinobu’s eyes are beautiful, so large and deep purple. Now, however, they seemed to be looking into your soul, searching for your deepest and darkest secrets.
“I should be going now, Shinobu-san.” you bow. 
“Don’t be a stranger, Y/N.” she offers a curt wave. “I love the new glow you have to you.” that tone in her voice - you feel hot with embarrassment. She was teasing you.
“CAW!”
You haven’t been outside for more than five minutes before Hiyori returns. 
“Oyakata-sama has sent for you!”
“Ah.” you sigh deeply. “I suppose I can see what Oyakata-sama needs.”
You made your journey towards the Ubuyashiki Estate, Hiyori soaring above you. It doesn’t take long and upon entering you note that Oyakata has already been waiting for your appearance.
You bow in front of him. “Oyakata-sama. I have arrived.”
Kagaya offers a curt smile. “Y/L Y/N. It is nice to be in your presence once more.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Oyakata-sama.” 
You lift your head, knees remaining on the ground. 
“Congratulations on returning from your mission safely. You have defeated a Lower Moon.” Kagaya praises.
Your heart feels full to be praised. 
“Thank you, Oyakata-sama. But please, it was nothing. Uzui-san and the others are the true remarkable ones.” You still cannot fathom coming in the presence of such a remarkably strong demon. 
“You also deserve praise, Y/N.” Kagaya says. “You managed to defeat a Lower Moon. There’s many slayers who did not have the same fate.”
You nod to yourself. You suppose he was right.
“You would make an exceptional Wind Hashira if the title was not already occupied.” Kagaya compliments once more. “I am content that you, my child, are a part of the Corps.”
“Thank you, Oyakata-sama.” you say, standing to your feet. 
“Thank you, Y/N.” Kagaya said, but before  you could speak, he continued. “Sanemi has transformed for the better. I assume that it is your doing.”
You swallow at the sound of Sanemi’s name. You had yet to see him  and speak about what has happened during the mission.
“I cannot take responsibility for Shinazugawa-san’s credibility. He was always an amazing Hashira before me!”
Kagaya chuckles to himself lowly. “Indeed he was, my child. But behind every great man, there’s a partner. A woman like yourself.” Kagaya lightly pets the crow that sits beside him. His head remains straight forward, body unmoving. “Give yourself more grace, Y/N. You are free to go as you please. Thank you for speaking with me.”
“Y-Yes.” you inhale a response, bowing before turning away. “Thank you, Oyakata-sama.”
The master's words replay in your head as you make your way to Sanemi’s estate. You deserve praise, he said. You changed Sanemi for the better. Did you, though? Sanemi always appeared amazing to you - at any and everything he did. Sure he had a temper but it was never towards you. Maybe Sanemi had taken the swear the two of you made seriously.
Entering the mansion, you note just how quiet it was inside. Where was Sanemi? You knew he returned earlier in the day.
You decided to not dwell on it and bathe. You hadn’t had the chance to upon waking up, only a light wash up. Witnessing the bruises and bites littering your skin causes you to flush at the memory of you and Sanemi together.
Hours had passed since you bathed and since then you had managed to cook dinner for the two of you - Sanemi’s dish had sat cold. You pondered where he could possibly be - surely Oyakata-sama didn’t send him on another mission.
You began to feel as if Sanemi was purposely avoiding you. As days dragged on, you had yet to see him. You continued your training alone, not witnessing any sight of him. You would eat alone without him, always setting a plate down for him that he would eat whenever he did return while you were gone.
It was only when the second week dragged on did Sanemi return, though barely. You caught a glimpse of him entering the bathroom just as you finished dinner. You waited for him to enter, and when he finally had you were left disappointed. He didn’t spare you a glance, entering his bedroom and not exiting.
Weeksn dragged on and you noticed that you and Sanemi no longer attended missions together. Hiyori would come and deliver your own solo missions and you’d go - not having someone besides you had your heart yearning for company. 
While Sanemi obviously ignored you, you would often visit Uzui and his wives. You’d relax at the onsen with them while not on missions, often eating dinner. Uzui was not a fool to notice the look in your eyes - you were attempting to get your mind off of a certain white haired bastard.
You visited Inosuke and Zenitsu, offering them sweets while they trained and waited for Tanjiro to wake. You remained cooking for Shinra, Genya and Muichiro when the three were free, Sanemi’s place at the table untouched.
There was a shift that everyone noticed. Sanemi’s attitude was going back to what it once was - abrasive and rash. The slayers had to tiptoe around him once more, not having you around as their savior. 
The Hashira has since taken note that there was something wrong with you and Sanemi. Shinobu had seen more of the Wind hashira at the Butterfly Estate to heal petty wounds that he'd usually got to you for - when she asked why he was there, he had snapped at her and stated that it was “her job” to do so.
Obanai and Sanemi train together often, now more than ever. He would visit the Serpent estate to train just so he didn’t have to be home - Iguro never questioned him.
Muichiro is air headed and often stuck in his own mind when he wasn’t out on missions. But he recognizes a shift in your behavior. Your eyes are sadder than he remembers them and all he can think to do is do the things he liked to do - with you. He’d watch the clouds with you, not speaking unless you did. He would make origami with you, claiming that yours were trash - it caused you to laugh at his insensitive truth - and would end up gifting you one of his origami pieces.
Mitsuri’s would often feed you, claiming that whenever she was down, she desired to eat delicious foods. She didn’t want to ask anything of you and Sanemi’s relationship, but she just hoped that whatever did happen that it would end soon. 
You were grateful for everyone's attempts in changing your mood and it would be selfish to say that it didn’t work. However, as the second month kicks, you realize just how foolish you feel. Your head has been far too into Sanemi and why he was ignoring you (and your own separate missions) that you ignored your own overall health. 
“Y/N.”
Shinobu tilts her head at you, curiosity in her eyes. Her face turns to a look of concern.
“Pregnant.” you repeat her words.
 Could you even be surprised? You were in the second month since the mission in Shinjuku. The last thing on your mind upon returning was a contraceptive and even when you woke up feeling less than yourself, you still couldn’t accept that you were with child.
“You must think I’m so stupid.” you laugh humorlessly at Shinobu, insect-like eyes watching your every move.
“Of course not!” Shinobu denies. “Why would you think such a thing?”
You inhale deeply. You thought as much because it was what you were feeling. Stupid - pregnant by Sanemi and it appeared now that he wanted nothing to do with you. Stupid for getting pregnant when your occupation was killing demons.
“Y/N. Are things with you and Shinazugawa…good?” Shinobu doesn’t want to pry, but now you were with child and appeared disgusted, concerned and frightened all at once.
You swallow, throat tightening. “Yes.” you murmur, an obvious lie. Everyone has noticed the shift in the relationship between the two of you and now Shinobu has an idea as to why.
“I assume Shinazugawa doesn’t know.” Shinobu states. “Y/N…there’s ways we can go about this now. If you aren’t ready I can assure you it will be painless.”
You blink at Shinobu’s words. You haven’t thought about a moment like this happening - not even the moment between you and Sanemi. When you arrived from the mission, you desired to see him and talk about whatever relationship the two of you had. But Sanemi turned cold, ignoring your presence all together and waving you off whenever you attempted to.
“If you do wish to keep the child, I will inform Oyakata-sama of the predicament and get you off from your missions. Since you’re early in the pregnancy, I’m sure you won’t have to-”
“I want to terminate.” you interrupt Shinobu. The Insect Hashira tries not to appear shocked by your words. She would never judge you for whatever decision you chose. 
You watch Shinobu nod her head. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world now - not while you were a part of the Corps. It also wouldn’t be fair to Sanemi. You lived in his house, after all. He had made his decision when it came to whatever relationship you had and you were now making yours.
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It’s nightfall when you return back to Sanemi’s estate and you’re surprised to see him at the table eating and Sanemi appears to be just as surprised to see you. Upon returning home from his rounds, he assumed you were in bed for the night - but he was proven wrong when you strolled through the shoji doors.
Lilac eyes meet yours and Sanemi notes that there’s something wrong with you. He remains silent, as do you. His heart continues to jolt in your presence, hands yearning to touch your soft skin again. 
“Shinazugawa.” you murmur your acknowledgment to him. 
Shinazugawa.
You never called him that, Sanemi things. But he doesn’t have the right to feel away about it.
“Thank you for allowing me to stay here.” you begin. Sanemi drops his chopsticks, attention fully on you. “I’m grateful to have been trained by you.”
Where were you going with this?
“I’ll be taking my leave.”
You turn away from him, Sanemi watching your figure saunter down the hall. He hears your shoji doors open but not close. There’s shuffling in your room and now he decides to get up to see what you were doing.
“Where are you going?” Sanemi’s heart is pounding now at the sight of you holding a bag with your belongings. It’s the first time he spoke to you directly.
“I’ve…decided to leave.”
Sanemi glances away. “Where are you going?”
You shift in your stance. “I’ve spoken to Oyakata-sama. I have a few missions lined up before I leave the Corps.”
Sanemi’s head snaps to you. He’s checking your face for any sign of deceit. He doesn’t find any - instead your eyes are lined with moisture. Your throat is bobbing as if attempting to not cry at the words you’re speaking.
“I’m sorry that I’ve become a burden.”
Reach out to her - Sanemi things.
Hold her.
Tell her she was never a burden.
Sanemi remains silent.
You stroll past him, your familiar scent passing him.
“You don’t have to leave.” Sanemi calls just as you’re a foot out the door. 
You don’t want to leave.
Sanemi doesn’t want you to leave.
Apologize to her.
Tell her how you feel.
Tell her you love her.
Sanemi’s mind races with his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize you’re already leaving.
“Y/N-”  Sanemi follows behind you, pace picking up to reach you. “Where are you going now? After you leave the Corps?”
You feel Sanemi’s hand around your wrist to stop you from walking. 
“Back home.” you respond, unable to look at him. You made your decision to leave and going against that wouldn’t be the correct decision for you.
Sanemi gulps. He releases his hand from your wrist.
“I hope you don’t feel as if it was a waste of time training me. I wasn’t a part of the Corps for long.” 
You were never a waste of his time, Sanemi wants to say, but his mind is racing and his heart is longing for you. 
Why were you going back home to your father? The same man that sold you to someone - that abused you for years on end?
“Thank you, Sanemi. For everything. I must be going.”
Tell her to stay.
Tell her she doesn’t have to leave here - leave you.
Tell her you love her- that you pushed her away because you were disgusted with yourself.
Tell her how horrible you felt that you took advantage of her innocence.
Sanemi doesn’t say anything and instead watches until your figure disappears. For the first time in years, he feels like he could shed tears at the loss of someone he loved.
Final Part
855 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
you join the team and hangman gets real shy with you and everyone is like
:O what have you done :O
and you're like
idk
and hes just like heart eyes
bc i LIVE for hangman being whipped and all nervous around his crushy wushy
MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY SAVING GRACE THANK YOU FOR THIS
--
Reassignment is a struggle. It's temporary, or, it's meant to be, but if things go well with your new team, you may be a permanent fixture. So you're a little nervous stepping onto the tarmac, all things considered.
You'd only managed to meet one person from your new squadron so far, a good-natured, kind man named Jake. He had seen you wandering along the hallway, directing you to Admiral Simpson's office when you'd explained your predicament. You don't spot him on the tarmac now, but you're not sure how many people are on the team.
There's a dark-haired woman that you can see, and she notices you, too. You aren't sure whether they've been shown pictures of you, but your last name is patched into your uniform and the helmet under your arm is branded with your callsign. A flash of recognition shows in her eyes, and she starts towards you.
"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" She quirks a brow, and you nod, smiling kindly.
"Nice to meet you," She grins, a brilliant expression on her pretty face, "I'm Natasha. Callsign Phoenix."
"Phoenix," You gush, "I like that. I'm supposed to join you for a hop today?"
"Yeah, we heard about that!" A man steps up beside you, cocky smirk on his face as he holds out a hand, "I'm Coyote. You're supposed to fly with Hangman, right?"
It wasn't ideal, being stuck in someone's backseat. You're used to flying, but this squadron wasn't in need of a new pilot, and you've been trained for both seats.
"Oh god," A man beside you groans, mustache a burnt red, "That's unfortunate. I'm, uh, Rooster. By the way."
You cock your head to the side, shaking his hand, "Rooster. What's wrong with that?"
"He's... difficult." A shorter man pipes up from your left, sticking his hand out, "Fanboy. He's just arrogant, that's all. He thinks he's the best, so it's hard to work with him if he feels like you're working against him. Hopefully he doesn't give you too much of a hard time."
Your heart sinks a little at the prospect of being paired with someone who didn't take kindly to partnership. You're resilient, sure, but there's only so much you can tolerate.
"Don't look now," Phoenix mumbles, leaning in close so no one can hear, "But he's coming out now. Just stand your ground, we can handle him if it gets too much."
You nod near-imperceptibly, waiting until you can hear the thunk of his boots on the asphalt before you spare him a glance. To your delight, the sweet, smiling face of Jake greets you, his cheeks already dusted a rosy hue.
"Y/N," He greets, southern drawl as sweet as sugar, "You're part of my squadron?"
"Your squadron," Rooster scoffs disapprovingly.
""You two know each other?" A tall man inquires, dark skin and pretty eyes, "I thought this was your first time here, Y/N."
"It is," You nod, exchanging a friendly smile with the man and glancing down at his name tag: Fitch, "But I ran into Jake yesterday in the hallway. He helped me to Admiral Simpson's office."
"Oh he did?" Fitch cocks his head to the side, a shit-eating grin thrown at Hangman, "Oh, that's so nice of you, Jake."
"I'm so glad you think that, Payback," Jake sneers, grin more menacing than any glare could be, "Now if you'll excuse us, Y/N and I should get comfortable with our new ride."
Jake crosses the rest of the tarmac until he's beside you, his hand coming to press against the small of your back just as it had yesterday. He's developing a habit of leading you around, and you reach his plane shortly, both of your names stamped on the side.
"I've never flown two-seater before," Jake admits, brushing a hand over his printed callsign, "This'll be interesting."
"Oh, why now?" You frown, fitting your helmet over your head, "What changed?"
"Uh," Hangman's eyes widen, and you think you've asked the wrong question. He answers, though, it's just sheepish.
"Admiral Simpson thinks it would be best if I had someone else with me in the air," He starts, choosing his words carefully, "Because he has observed some, uh- daring maneuvers from me. And he thinks that I might benefit from having someone else's safety to consider."
"You're too reckless," You realize, and you can't help but giggle, "So I'm your babysitter?"
"Let's not call it that!" Jake laughs, blush intensified, "Let's call it partners. Deal?"
"Deal," You grin, eyes twinkling similar to his own, "Partners."
"What the fuck?" Fanboy spits, watching from afar as Jake helps you into the jet, letting you grab his hand and brace your weight on his arm, "Did he get possessed, or something?"
"She hasn't slapped him yet," Rooster ponders, "He must be keeping himself in check."
"Is that Y/N?" Natasha turns where she hears Bob's voice nearing behind her, nodding with a growing smirk on her face.
"Yeah, that's her. And that's Hangman."
She points to Jake, who's leaning into your seat, concern evident on his face as he helps you adjust the position of your harness.
Bob's face falls, scrunching into a frown, "He's... helping her?"
"This is gonna get interesting, boys," Phoenix grins, eyes narrowed at Jake who's still grinning sweetly at you, "Hangman's got a crush."
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
Text
Like Betta Fish Do Part 26
WC 1478, Masterpost CW: Canon typical violence, Aftermath of torture
“It’s Danny. They took Danny,” Babs murmured into the comms.
Dick’s heart skipped a beat.
“Basement or subfloor,” she continued, passing the information along to those of them who had been able to slip away in the chaos.
Dick burst out into the roof, still tugging up one of the hidden zippers on his uniform. He flung himself off the roof without hesitation. “I saw Danny twenty ago. They can’t have taken him far.”
“Twelve,” Cass chimed in.
Twelve was even better.
“Oh God, I just saw the timer,” Babs whispered. “We don’t have—”
“Hey, fish,” Jason’s voice came across the line.
Dick almost missed his grapple as he rushed lower to try and see any suspicious vehicles.
“Tim, city power—”
“Working on it,” Tim ground out, cutting Babs off in a way he normally wouldn’t.
“Forty-five seconds!”
“I can’t do it in that! I’m trying—”
A hitched breath. “I do. I'm sorry.”
Then screaming.
The lights flared and then cut out in one of the smaller office buildings crouched in Wayne Enterprises’ shadow.
Dick twisted and flew towards it. Another black shadow joined him in flight.
The comms were painfully quiet and then filled with a burst of chatter. Dick reached up and brushed his off as he landed on top of a cliché white van with a purposeful thump. Before the blue faced goon had even finished turning towards the noise he was unconscious.
Silently, efficiently, Cass and him worked through henchmen, dodging guns and tasers. That had to be how they took Danny. Dick remembered how the other froze up being shocked with his escrima sticks. Remembered how—
Now Danny had been electrocuted again.
Of all the ways for Danny to die…
Dick left Cass to finish off the room and stalked deeper into the basement. He didn’t try to be quiet. He wanted them to find him. He wanted them to try and stop him. They had killed Danny, the guy who had made Jason so happy, who stood up to Nightwing, who smiled and laughed and tried so hard to live!
Who made his little wing want to live.
Dick wanted them to try and stop him.
He slammed open another door. The room had barely any light from the squat narrow windows.
A chair was in the center of the room.
A body was in it.
Dick choked out a name. “Danny—”
And then Danny moved.
-
“Danny?!” The voice sounded small, choked off, but Danny knew it.
No, villains were involved, that meant it was the one with wings instead.
“Heeey Nightwing,” Danny said. He tried to raise his head to look at the other, but it just lolled back on his weak neck. He was left blinking up at the ceiling. All of him felt like jelly. “I have had… a shockingly bad night. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.”
Nightwing ran across the floor of the warehouse, footsteps loud in the flooded water. “Holy shit Danny, how are you alive?”
“Mmm been killed once by electricity before, ‘m immune now.”
“Yeah, no, Danfish” Nightwing said. His voice and hands both shook as he undid the ropes binding Danny’s wrists. “Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“Is with me,” Danny slurred. He tried, desperately, to stay sitting upright when the ropes around his chest were undone, but he was still in that jelly state and slumped forward into Nightwing who, thankfully, caught him. “Hey, think I’m gonna get a new set of Lichtenberg scars out of this?”
The arms around him tightened almost painfully before they relaxed. “Don’t know little fish. Guess we’ll have to see at the hospital.”
“No!” Danny tried to struggle against Nightwing as fear gripped him. “No hospitals.”
“Danny. You were just electrocuted— very publicly electrocuted, we have to get you checked out.”
Danny clung to Nightwing. “Nooo… they’ll know and they’ll want to cut me open and that can’t happen—”
“Danny, hey, it’s okay, we won’t let anyone do that to you,” Nightwing soothed. He held Danny’s face in between his hands, making Danny look at him. “We won’t let anyone else hurt you tonight. How about we call in a doctor we trust to the hospital. Is that okay?”
“They won’t tell?”
“Never. She’s always looked out for us, all of us. She’s patched us all up plenty, even Red Hood. Please? We’ll all worry otherwise and there will be more questions.”
Danny nodded, feebly, in the other’s grip. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go if she’s the one. Get the… the case, the ecto.”
He didn’t want anyone to worry about him. Fuck, had he scared them? He bet he had. He’d been a little scared himself. He didn’t want to be dead dead yet.
Things were just getting good.
“I have him,” Danny heard Nightwing say as the other man scooped him up. He pressed his ear to the chest, relaxing at the rumble of the words. “I have him and he’s alive.”
-
Two Face was saying something. Laughing at him, applauding him. Jason couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything but Danny’s screaming.
The TV was nothing but static.
Jason was aware, distantly, of the bomb being pulled off the hostages. Of Bruce having to hold back Damian from leaping at Two Face. Of the mayor pulling Bruce back from doing the same. Of another window shattering as Red Robin came through and the Bats descended on the henchmen scattered throughout the room.
Jason could still hear Danny screaming.
Screaming and static.
He lunged.
He was on Two Face before anyone could stop him. The man’s head hit the ground with a sickening thunk. Jason didn’t care. He started punching. He felt the delicate bone under that shocked yellow eye give under his fist. He swung again and again. Two Face clawed at Jason, but he didn’t stop— not until Bruce pulled Jason off the rogue and into his arms.
Jason curled into the hold like he was fourteen and small again. He clung to Bruce with cracked and bleeding knuckles and sobbed. He needed to stop, to pull himself together, to…
“…need to find him. Bruce, I need to find him!”
“Maybe we should let the others,” Bruce murmured. He ran a hand through Jason’s hair.
“No, I need to—” Oh. Bruce thought Danny had to be dead. He could be. He might be. But there was a chance that he wasn’t. And Jason’t couldn’t— “I need to.”
Bruce was silent before he sighed, softly. “Alright, Jaylad, let’s—”
The chatter in their comms that Jason hadn’t even been listening to. Hadn’t been able to listen to, went silent.
“Repeat?” It was Cass who asked, her voice small and demanding.
Barbara reached over and passed him her phone, using it as a cover for what they heard next.
“I have Danny,” Dick said. “I have Danny and he’s alive.”
“Damian, stay with Barbara,” Bruce ordered, already running.
Bruce and Jason took off through the aftermath of the hostage situation, dodging the crowd and downed goons, police and reporters.
“Nightwing,” Bruce urged into the comms.
“He’s alive and conscious but very out of it,” Dick said and continued before there could be any more questions. “Agent A, we need the doctor at the hospital. Call her and then head there yourself. You need to bring a case from inside the Cave. It’s in with the old training equipment, behind the dummies. The case is metal with a green ghost drawn on top.”
The ectoshots. Dick had remembered the ectoshots.
“Right away,” Alfred’s cool tone came across the comms.
“Nightwing,” Bruce said again.
“Not now. Just… fuck, B, he’s alive,” Dick said. Jason could hear the near heartbreak in his brother’s voice. The growing sound of ambulance sirens couldn’t cover it. “Just get here. The Jasper building.”
Jason’s slick dress shoes skidded on the damp concrete as they made it out the back door of the building. The flashing lights were already visible. The fog drenched buildings seemed to glow with them. Danny was so close and they still had failed him.
A police officer stepped forward to stop them as they came around a corner. Bruce intercepted the bracing arm and pushed it back; it gave Jason enough room to rush past and towards the ambulance. Paramedics and police were crowded around it. Nightwing was standing guard.
Jason shoved past them all.
Danny.
He slid to his knees and clutched at Danny where the other was sat on the back of the ambulance.
“Danny.”
“Hey, dead boy. I guess… I guess you get to keep your nickname still. Not mine yet,” Danny rasped behind the oxygen mask.
Jason choked out a laugh against his will. He buried face against Danny’s neck and squeezed the other tighter. He didn’t manage to hold back his tears. “Yeah, guess I do, fish.”
---
AN: *jazz hands* See! It's going to be fiiiiiiiiiiine.
I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!
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ikkaku-of-heart · 3 months
Text
The Hearts regrouping after the Blackbeard fight:
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(All of them sound off because none of them are dead. And this meme applies to the Kid Pirates post-Shanks, too. Fuck you anyone who thinks otherwise.)
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licorice-tea · 2 months
Text
The Bane of My Existence
Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)
Part 2
Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.
In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.
The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.
Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”
Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”
Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”
Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.
“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“
“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.
Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.
With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.
Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.
“Why would I be following some rand-“
“Because you have a crush on them!”
“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”
“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“
They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”
The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”
Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”
You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)
“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”
The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.
“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-“
“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”
“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”
You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”
“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”
“But Captain, we want to go with you!”
One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.
“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”
Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”
There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.
Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”
“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”
“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”
“Right.” He laughs dryly.
“What is it?”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I- I’m not lying!”
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”
“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."
Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”
“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.
“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.
“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”
“Fine- then I’ll leave.”
His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”
You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”
You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.
“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”
“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”
Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.
You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)
Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.
The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.
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newobsessionweekly · 1 year
Text
Join me
Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader
Evan “Buck” Buckley x firefighter!reader
Fandom: 911
Fluff, smut
Summary: They have to shower after each of their firefighting operations and Y/n keeps catching Buck half-naked so often, that she asks herself if Buck specifically want Y/n to see him. And things heat up after a call.
Warnings: Probably poor quality smut, descriptive sex, mentions of blood, injuries.
Requested: No
Requests are open for Buck / Eddie !
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Gif not mine, credits to the owner!
“Ok, but there’s two of us now, how come we have to share the same changing room with you guys ?” Y/n stops Eddie from babbling, tired of being afraid someone would peek at her naked body once she’d go out of the shower. Speaking of, just for the record, the shower is shared too.
“Come on, it’s not that bad. Hen’s been sharing changing room with guys for ages! And not only with us, dealt with worse!” Buck turns his head to stare at you out of those washed-out blue eyes while still chewing on his food.
You can’t lie, it didn’t bother you that much to share the locker room with the sexiest firefighters of LA, what really bothers you are the sneaky peak you and Buck been sharing.
Buck was some of the most wished-for firefighters in town and you can’t blame all the girls that are throwing at his feet. With those ocean blue eyes, one painted with that mysterious scar making girls wonder what’s the story behind that bravery and only after they go through his bed are served with the truth; it’s just a birthmark. His muscles are showing up in that uniform, popping out and taking any breath away in a shirt. And not to talk about the uniform. Anyone looks sexy in a uniform.
Leaving behind the looks, Buck is the most selfless person you’ve ever met in your life. He’d do anything to save every single one in a case, no matter is he’s crashed by a car, train, building or any other hard thing that could end his life on spot. He’s always ready to take that risk. You, on the other hand, are ready to follow the instructions.
He’s the most reckless person, but his heart’s so big it wouldn’t stop beating soon. And he knows that. His heart is not only beating for him, to keep him alive, it’s also beating for all the people out in the world that need help, that need him.
What really bothers you are not the looks he’s giving you with any chance, but the electricity you feel run down your spine every damn time he’s around you or even looking at you. His reputation isn’t a secret and all you wanna do is to avoid getting hurt.
You were zoned out for a while, playing with the food and ignoring all the voices around you. Only one stood up in the crowd and you’d recognise even in your sleep.
As alarm echoed through the station announcing a car crash with possible multiple injured, you sipped out of your coffee cup and jump into the paramedic ambulance.
//
As you walk back into the station, covered in blood, you let the boys to take a shower first. You approach Buck, holding him back for an inspection.
“Could you be more reckless?” you hiss at him, looking down at his bruises and opened cut on his arm.
“I’m fine, Y/n. I just got the usual bruises.” you press a cold compress on his head before cleaning the cuts.
“And a concussion.” you rolled your eyes.
As he stood there, patiently waiting for you to get your job done, his blue eyes searched for your body. From head to toe, you are the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Smart too, very brave and bossy. Shame you didn’t want to stand up and ignore Bobby’s orders. You’d make a great team.
“You know I can take care of myself?” you did know that, what you didn’t know was why all of the sudden you decided to play the doctor on him.
You were scared when he jumped right in the middle of the flames to save a dog trapped inside a burning car. Your heart was racing like it would pop out of your chest any minute and your eyes filled with small tears. Just the smoke, you’d tell everyone.
When he returned safely with the small dog in his arms you could finally breathe out. All you wanted to do in that moment was to hug him and yell a little.
And yet, you didn’t know why your body would react that way.
“You’re all done right now. You should take a shower, you’re smelly.” he nodded.
“Thank you, doc!” he smiled.
You can’t help a smile, cheeks burning red. You liked that, all the funny names he called you all the time.
You made your way to the locker room, keeping your distance. Everyone was back in the kitchen upstairs, Eddie watching your moves. He could tell something’s going on between you two, all the looks, the way you’re inspecting Buck’s shirtless body, like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.
You remained in your underwear before heading to the showers. You really need to take off the blood. Hearing the water running down, violently hitting the floor, you soon realise it was coming from your usual shower spot, seeing Buck’s shape beautifully contouring on the curtain’s surface.
“You took my shower!” you screamed at him.
“Sorry, doc! Problems with the other ones. They’re out of service.” Buck pokes his wet haired head out. “But you’ll free to join me, if you can’t wait!” he winks.
You can’t wait, the cold air embraces your naked skin, sending shivers down your spine.
“Move!” you demand, joining Buck.
You were full grownups after all, a shower isn’t that big of a deal. You’ve seen him half-naked countless of times before and you suspect he’d seen you as well.
Hot water pouring down your body felt like heaven. Warmth hugging you as perfect as this moment was, not minding Buck’s glancing down at your side.
You peak at him, causing your body to burn up in excitement. Every inch of you desired to be touched and you finger tips aches to trace the shape of him. To help him get rid of the dirt, of course.
His hand touches your arm, cleaning the wound you’ve won yourself today.
“You’re injured.” Buck whispered, so close to you now, can feel the warmth of his freshly minted breath.
“Just a cut, I’ll live.” you joke. Looking up at him, water was framing his face so sinfully. You watched a small thread of water paint his nose, those red juicy lips, then going down his chest, stopping at the lower part of his abdomen. Your eyes locked on his erection, and your hands caressing up and down his worked arms.
Buck cupped your cheeks, locking his gaze in yours. Forehead touching, he searched for your permission before hungrily brushing your lips together.
You splay your hands across Buck’s chest as he swirls his tongue around yours. He got you already high over his touch, but the kissing in out of this world.
He press you gently on the cold wall, water still flowing down over both of you, sneaking under your touch. Your body trembles as his hands wanders up and down, memorising your curves. He stops for a moment over your breasts, caressing one by one very carefully, like he would want to remember their shape. You racked your nails through his messy wet hair and down across his back, his lips escaping a little needy moan.
Buck pauses, lips barely touching, taking his time to look in your eyes as his hand went down. “You’re so beautiful!” You breathe the same air, you share the same desire. He admires your intoxicating beauty while shoving his hand between your legs, making you break eye contact and throw your head in pleasure back into the wall.
His lips ghosts over your neck and your fingers lightly run over his abs and down to his erection. Buck kisses you hard, like his life depends on it, like he’s addicted to your touch and wants to feel your name on his skin a whole lifetime from now on.
Moans and desire flying in the air, Buck plays with your wetness before he impatiently lifts your hips up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist. You hold on into his shoulders, closing the distance between you, he pulled your hips up and down, setting a peace as he buried inside you.
Sinking into him, digging your fingers into Buck’s shoulder, the rhythm became incoherent as both of your bodies burned in indescribably pleasure. You want him as much as he wants you.
The Earth stops spinning and the whole world evolves around you two. That moment is about you and Buck, covered in exultation and savoury. You feel his pulse inside, fire pooling low in your abdomen, waiting for Buck to put it out for you.
He run his tongue over where your lips meet, your eyes running back in delight as your moans melts together under your kiss. A spring coiling tightly and then being release, both of you dissolving into pleasure under the hot warm water spreading your love into the air.
You stayed there, in that sweet embrace minutes before one of you could do something. You enjoyed the moment and rested on Buck’s arms, tears of joy welting with the water caressing your bodies. Buck didn’t want to let you go, afraid you’d disappear as soon as his eyes would open. Instead, he inhales your smell, so unforgettable. He’s convinced it’ll haunt his mind, his dreams, countless days from now on and he’s sure as hell he doesn’t want to forget any second you spent in that shower.
“I’m glad you came back safely today.” you murmured into the base of his neck, your fingers still lightly tracing his shape.
“Will always come back in one piece to you.” he answers, placing a soft kiss on your wet hair.
You raise your head, searching his beautiful eyes. Buck can’t help a smile, seeing you so vulnerable before him, still trusting him enough to let him admire you like that. He locked you lips again, this time so soft, afraid he’ll hurt you with just a touch. You melt on him with every touch.
“We should go back.” you broke the silence.
“Yeah, we should.” he agrees. “I’ll go first, take your time.” he kissed your cheek and disappeared behind the curtain.
When you returned to the kitchen, everyone was eating one of Bobby’s delicious meals. You grab yourself a plate and sat across Buck, avoiding his sight, afraid you’ll lose your sanity. You’re smelling like Buck and sex combined, the best combination you’ve ever smelled.
He locked your eyes and you both smiled like idiots, still drunk over the moment happened in shower, just minutes before, a few feet away from everyone else. But you don’t care, it was your moment.
“Don’t really wanna know what happened back there, you idiots! Stop devouring each other at table!” Chim jokes as your cheeks burn red again.
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bleubrri · 2 years
Text
۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴀ ʀᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ — ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛɪᴛᴀɴ
ft armin, erwin, eren, jean
contains: rich boys, country club au, reader works there, black!fem!reader, petnames, semi-public sex (storage cupboards, cars etc), armin being kinda mean and possessive, degradation, impact play, daddy kink if you squint, vaginal sex, creampie, fingering, cunnilingus, sugar daddy behaviour
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༄ؘ ARMIN ARLERT
is the most entitled brat you’ve ever encountered. apparently his favourite thing to do is torment you. that, and not so subtly peek at your underwear.
“whoops! my bad.” he says after hitting the ball entirely out of range. “guess tennis isn’t my strong suit. go fetch it for me, will you?” you’re glowering, eyes flicking between the abundant basket of balls loaded into the tennis ball machine next to you and his stupid, perfect, smiling face. “of course.” you grit, stomping off in the direction of his swing.
you shriek as the ice cold lemonade makes contact with your shirt. the fabric sticks to your skin as the ice cubes leave wet trails across your collar bone. “oh i’m so sorry!” the heads that have turned to witness the commotion probably eat up his fake apology. but you know better, watching his eyes trace the outline of your nipples as he shoves napkins into your cleavage, not-so-accidentally squeezing the tops of your tits. he leans in close, whispering for only you to hear. “let me help you, bunny. don’t want you walking around all wet now, do we?”
the feeling of his blunt nails grazing your scalp makes you shiver, but it’s quickly replaced by a yelp when he grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you back to face him. the force of his thrusts is rattling the shelves of the storage cupboard, the wet sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the space around you. he’s sucking deep purple bruises into your neck, snarling into your ear as he presses you further into the wall. “you like being fucked like a slut? or just acting like one?” you can only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his pretty cock pistoning into you and mildly annoyed that your cunt clenches at his words. “yeah, you like—shit—you liked parading around half naked for those guys?” that isn’t exactly how you’d describe giving a group of boys directions to the snack bar in your lifeguard uniform, but the shoving of his fingers past your lips makes you think he didn’t really expect an answer anyway. he cums without warning, spills inside of you and sinks his canines into your throat as you whimper against him. once he’s pulled out, he tugs your panties back in place to stop his seed from trickling down your thighs. he kisses the marks on your neck gently, though his tone is anything but. “don’t let it happen again, bunny. you’re mine.”
༄ؘ ERWIN SMITH
he’s a romantic at heart, can’t help but shamelessly flirt to try and sweep you off your feet. you’ve told him to stop his extravagant tipping, but he insists. you do provide excellent service after all.
“would you be a dear and grab the 7-iron?” he asks, surveying the lushness of the course from behind his sunglasses. you smile and nod enthusiastically, trotting off to retrieve the club while he admires the sway of your hips in your cute little tennis skirt. you hold it out to him, expecting him to take it and swiftly begin his game. instead, he places his large palms over your hands, “do you play?” you try not to crumble under the weight of the ocean held in his eyes, “me? i—no. never.” he hums, gesturing to the tee, “allow me.” your breath hitches when he presses up behind you, his broad frame surrounding you as his hands come to rest on top of your own, gently coaxing you to swing.
“ah, there she is!” he spots you just as you’re exiting the back room back onto the floor, and his heart swells at the sight of the little diamond sitting in the centre of your clavicle. his little diamond. “why don’t you come and join me, darling? i could use a little luck it seems.” you practically skip over to him, perching yourself in his lap while looking over the hand he was dealt and the cards scattered across the table. you end up more focused on the game than him; he’s far more occupied with brushing the curls away from your neck, admiring the contrast of your skin to the pale silver of the chain and pressing a kiss to your nape.
“i told you, ‘s not fair on—oh fuck—on the others! y-you needa stop tipping like that, erwin.” you try and sound firm, but it fails miserably when your voice raises an octave on the last syllable of his name. the heat from your skin and your hurried breaths have fogged up the windows of his ridiculously expensive car as erwin eats your pussy like it’s what he was fucking born to do. he raises his head from between your legs, thick brows furrowed and chin dripping with your essence, his mouth opening to protest before you cut him off. “i’m serious.” you say, reaching down to brush the blonde locks from his forehead. he sighs, absentmindedly peppering kisses to your inner thigh. “fine. if you let me take you to dinner when i’m done here.” you open your mouth to answer, but it morphs into a groan in your throat when he presses the flat of his tongue to your clit. “y-yes! yeah fine, fine just—oh god—touch me please.” and he’s more than happy to oblige, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth and selfishly slipping a finger past your entrance in the hopes that your date could come just a little faster.
༄ؘ EREN JAEGER
isn’t exactly… the county clubs demographic. still, it doesn’t seem to stop him from walking around like he owns the place (which might be half true, you’re pretty sure his father has shares in the company).
your first thought is that the cherry red paint job and rumbling engine of his vintage mustang is more than a little obnoxious. it’s also your second thought when you take in his outfit as he steps out of the car: faded jeans and a leather jacket, with thick silver rings and shoulder length hair that’s haphazardly pulled up. your stuck up colleague frowns and addresses him, “uh, excuse me sir but i’m afraid there’s a fairly strict dress code.” you roll your eyes from your place at the valet stand, but don’t interfere. eren barely looks up from his phone, fishing a wad of notes from his back pocket. “how ‘bout i pay you to shut up and mind your fuckin’ business?” the snort that escapes you is involuntary, and you try desperately to cover it with a cough that neither men are convinced by. erens sharp eyes snap up to you, winking as he tosses you his keys and strolls inside.
“help! help i’m drowning! can’t—can’t swim—” you’re standing by the edge of the pool looking down at him completely unimpressed as he flails about in the shallow end. you quirk a brow and he stills, pouting. “what kind of lifeguard are you? i coulda really been dying…” scoffing, you turn to leave when his fingers wrap around your ankle and your heart drops. water rushes pash your ears as you’re dragged into the pool, kicking to the surface and hacking out your lungs. “what the fuck?!” you’re seething, screaming about your hair and scowling at him while he laughs until his sides hurt. once he starts to feel a little guilty, he cuts off your words, kissing away the chlorine from your lips and promising to make it up to you.
“that’s it, baby.” he groans, grip tightening on your hips to slam you down onto his cock. you’re still not used to his thickness, his blunt tip pressing against your soft cluster of nerves with no effort at all. “fuuck you look so pretty riding my dick. should take t’day off so you can sit on it all fuckin’ day.” he mutters into your sternum, busy trailing wet kisses to your tits and delivering harsh slaps to the meat of your ass. the sting from the cool metal of his rings has you reeling, pinpricks of pain melting into pleasure with each thrust of his hips. “or better yet,” he continues, “quit altogether so i can fuck you whenever i want.” you laugh breathlessly, nails digging into his chest as you bounce on his cock in the drivers seat of his mustang. “you already do that anyway. besides, c-can’t all live off of daddy’s money can we?” he loves that you’re still so sharp, even when you’re starting to drool from gushing around his cock. “that so? you want daddy to pay your shift, pretty girl? or you like fuckin’ me on the clock?” he gets distracted with the sloppy press of your mouth to his, by the lewd sounds of your perfect fucking cunt squelching with the final few lifts of his hips. but once he regains his focus he deposits 100 into your account (more than what you earn per shift, you berate) and tells you to call in sick. “i’m nowhere near done with you.”
༄ؘ JEAN KIRSTEIN
bless his heart he is a babbling, blushing mess around you :( he’s so easy to tease, but you mean well because he really is adorable.
he knows you’re busy when you’re working, so he tries not to hover or pester you too much (you wouldn’t mind in the slightest). but he sends things over to you all throughout your shift. you look a little flustered? he’ll send a drink over. lunch break still hours away? maybe you could use some snacks. “jean, you know i get snack privileges, right? and…unlimited drinks? like all day?” he did not know that. “of course i know that. you’re just… busy is all. less stress if i get them for you.” you hum, pretending not to see the pink that spreads across his cheeks.
“hey, so..wouldyouwannagettogetherafterworksometime?” you stop in your tracks, freezing your motions of putting your bag over your shoulder and dramatically sucking in air through your teeth. “that’s kinda an abuse of power don’t you think?” his dreamy hazel eyes are wide and you instantly have to bite your lip to stop laughter bursting out of you. “oh—oh my god, i’m so sorry i—i didn’t—” you’re grinning as you slink next to him, “i mean what’s an innocent employee of this fine establishment to do?” you drawl, boldly linking your hands together. “you’re— you’re joking.” he breaths, the fear trickling down his spine quickly replaced with relief. “yes. and i’d love to. if the offers still on the table after that.”
jean’s counting the number of paddle boards in the dim light of the pool supply shed when you come bustling through the door, breathless and gorgeous and his. his lips are on yours before words can manifest, running his hands down to your waist and pulling you close. “only have… 15 minutes.” you manage between heated kisses, and he hums, breaking the string of saliva that tethers your mouths when he drops to his knees. he’s sliding your shorts and panties down your legs and already looking at your centre greedily, but still you feel guilty. “wait, wait what about you? are you sure?” he looks up at you incredulously, already palming his erection at the lusty scent of your arousal. “are you kidding? gimme 10.” and when he plunges his tongue into the silky depths of your cunt, you can’t find it in you to protest. (he manages to tear the thin line of tissue under his tongue in his eagerness, but he seems perfectly content when you cum in 8 minutes).
a/n: this is a cry for help, sugar daddies hmu
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mncxbe · 8 months
Text
Taking a bath with them♡ part 2
𝑱ō𝒏𝒐, 𝑲𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒂, 𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐, 𝑷𝒐𝒆 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
Genre: fluff/ slight nsfw
I saw that y'all really liked the first one so here's part 2 of this little series♡
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𝑱ō𝒏𝒐
I feel like Jōno prefers not to take baths because hot water is a sensory overload for him; like his skin feels weird
but he will do it for you if you ask nicely
he knows that it's something important to you so he'll make the experience as enjoyable as possible
he's kinda chill and doesn't move around too much
prefers to have you pressed against his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair
Jōno heard the splashing sound of water accumulating in the tub long before he stepped foot in your apartment. He had a vague idea of what your plans for tonight were, but he decided not to spoil your surprise.
"Hey there darling" you beamed "How was work?"
"Quite alright my dear. Nothing special."
You made your way to your boyfriend, arms snaking around his neck as you planted a kiss on his cheek. "How about we do something special tonight?" you asked.
Jono didn't miss the hint of mischief in your voice nor the sudden shift of your heartbeat. "Like what, taking a bath together?". He didn't need to see you (lol sorry) to know that your lips were now pushed forward in an adorable pout.
"You're so done I swear~ but yes, I was planning for us to take a bath"
Your boyfriend considered your proposal for a second before nodding. "Alright, but I can't stay for too long, you know that."
"Yes, yes don't worry" you said reassuringly, flashing him a smile. "Now go get ready I'll make us a cup of tea. Or would you prefer wine?"
"No, tea is fine"
"Ok, be right back". With that you tiptoed to the kitched. Jono took off his uniform and headed to the bathroom; the moment he entered the room a wave of heat made his skin prickle. He wasn't a big fan of bathing since the steam and hot water made his skin feel strange, but then again, what wouldn't he do for his lovely girlfriend.
He carefully sank in the tub, taking a few seconds to adjust to its temperature.
"Is the water hot enough?" you asked as you stepped in the bathroom carrying two cups of tea, its herbal, slightly woody scent filling his lungs.
"Yes, it's quite alright." He motioned you to join him and you quickly placed the cups on the tiled floor before sinking in the water.
You made yourself comfortable in his embrace, nestling your head on his chest as one of his arms wrapped around your frame. The first few minutes in the bath were spent in silence, the two of you simply enjoying each other's presence, but soon you became aware of his body pressed against yours, his hands caressing your plump skin. A light, rosy blush tinted your cheeks and your heart skipped a beat.
Of course, Jono noticed the slight change in your body temperature and heart rhythm. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
"Oh my, you alright darling?" he teased, his lips lightly touching the shell of your ear.
"Of course. It's just very hot in here" you shrugged playfully. His fingers ghosted over your thighs, causing you to squeeze them together.
"I can tell when you lie to me, dear. Your breath hitches. Plus, based on your reaction I~"
"Shh ok I got it" you laughed, covering his mouth with your hand. "You're right. You made me a bit nervous."
Jono gently removed your hand, a warm smile stretching his lips. He pulled you closer and kissed your temple, a sign of his unshakeable love for you.
"You make my heart beat faster too, my love" he whispered before letting his head fall back, the smell of honeyed tea easing his senses.
𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐
she's a big fan of flower petals in the tub
skincare queen
most of the times she's the one who initiates the baths
she always has a glass of some alcoholic beverage nearby
you know y'all gossip; she wants to know all the juicy details of your day
uses baths as a form of aftercare or simply to relax
"Girl I swear to god." you half screamed as you entered your flat, slamming the door shut. "You won't believe what happened today."
Yosano, who was sharpening the knives in the kitchen, abandoned the steel cutters and made her way to the hallway with a grin on her face.
"Was it that colleague of yours again?"
"You know it! He's so annoying I cannot even".
Your girlfriend smiled understandingly and opened her arms. Dragging your feet on the carpet, you closed the distance between you and pulled her into a tight hug.
"There, there" she said, caressing your head. "How about we take a bath together, hm? I'll go get it ready while you eat something. We have some gyoza and rice in the fridge."
You quickled pecked her cheek and tiptoed to the kitchen."Thanks dear. I'll be right there"
While your girfriend was getting the bath ready you niddbled the pork dumplings; when you finished eating you grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine from the storage room and made your way to the bathroom. Yosano was already there.
"You surely took your time, dear." she teased, her crimson eyes darting around your features.
"Oh shush. I got us wine" you said as you began pouring the merlot liquid in the two glasses. After that you discarded your clothes on the ground next to Yosano's butterfly clip and joined her in the tub. Drink in hand, you began rambling on.
"As I was saying, that guy is insufferable. He's mad that I was the one who got the promotion and now he's acting all petty. I mean, what even! Today he put salt in my coffee"
Yosano laughed at your words "No way he did that"
"I'm telling you he did" you whined, taking a sip of wine. "What I'm more mad about is that he took credit for one of my ideas and got all the praise."
You were visibly irritated, eyes glimmering with anger. "It's so unfair"
Yosano leaned in and cupped your cheek, her thumb gently tracing over your lower lip. "My pretty girl, don't worry about that asshole."
Her words were tender, but they carried a certain venom. "Plus, if he keeps bothering you I'll deal with him"
A small chuckle escaped your lips "Oh don't bother. He's not worth our time"
Yosano's gaze moved to your lips for a brief second and you took the hint. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on her lips when you kissed and you closed your eyes, allowing the stress to dissipate.
"Well now, dear." your girlfriend said in a honeyed voice as she pulled away "How about we go to bed now? I'll help you relax"
"That doesn't sound bad at all" you cooed, beaming with anticipation.
You both finished your routine for the night and hid beneath the silky sheets, in a world of your own. It's safe to say that you were in for a long night.
𝑲𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒂
his face turns a pretty shade of pink when he hears your proposal
at first he tries to protest, claiming that it wouldn't align with his ideals but he can barely hide his excitement
this man has a fern next to his tub idc
Kunikida tries his best to make this experience most enjoyable for you: he asks you in advance if you prefer bubbles, bath bombs or just plain water, what temperature would be best for you, he massages your back and brings little snacks for the two of you
at first he won't let you wash his hair but after a few times he accepts
"Come on dear just this once" you desperately pleaded.
"I said no, Y/N."
"But it's for my birthday"
This little argument between you and your boyfriend started a few days ago when he asked you what you'd like for your anniversary.
"Well" you said coyly, twirling a strand of your coffee-coloured hair around your index finger "I'd like a romantic bath with you. With candles and all that."
The tips of Kunikida's ears turned red at your proposal "But darling, this is... it's against my ideals"
"I know but that's the only thing I want. If you accept I promise I won't try anything" you replied with a smirk.
You've been dating Kunikida for around two to three months now and although you were sleeping in the same bed you never actually saw eachother naked. Your boyfriend had a detailed plan of how the relationship was going to evolve and you didn't really minded it. Of course, you sometimes teased him or tried to push his limits a bit but nothing too extreme, so your proposal came as a surprise to him.
The evening before your birthday he finally agreed to take a bath with you and you spent the whole night answering his questions: what scented candles did you prefer? or did you like the regular ones better?, what snacks and drinks should he bring?
The next evening when you came home from work the whole apartment smelled like vanilla. You walked into the kitchen where you found your boyfriend pouring your favourite white wine in a glass.
"Ah there you are, my dear. Go get yourself ready for the bath, I'll join you in a minute" he said, motioning you to enter the bathroom.
You quickly took off your makeup and undressed, placing the folded clothes next to the sink and got in the tub. The water temperature was perfect, coils of vanilla scented steam hovering above its surface. You gazed around the bathroom, admiring your boyfriend's work; he had decorated the room to your liking: a few tall, beige candles were placed on the windowsill and the floor was adorned with red rose petals. The window had a view over the town and was slightly foggy so the lights of the city appeared elongated and haloed.
Just then, Kunukida entered the bathroom carrying a plate of nuts and cheese and your glass of wine. He gently placed them on the table next to the tub, where his pet fern resided, before joining you.
"Is everything to your liking, my dear?" he asked anxiously.
"Of course! It's perfect I love it so much. Thank you" you beamed, reaching for a piece of camembert. You placed it in your mouth and chewed slowly, savouring its tangy flavour.
Your boyfriend relaxed a little when he saw how thrilled you were and he took a sip of wine.
You talked about your day and the gifts you received from colleagues at work and when you eventually finished eating, you shifted, moving closer to him. The tub was large enough to comfortably fit both of you, but you wanted to be closer to him.
He let you lay your head on his chest, face turned to face the window and you wrapped your arms around him.
"I'm so happy Kunikida thank you" you whispered, placing a soft kiss on his jaw. This made your boyfriend tense a little; you were so close and your body so warm. He really tried his best to avoid looking at your curves but his gaze kept lingering on them. Naturally, you noticed the change in his demeanour and decided to take advantage of the situation.
Your hand slid up his thigh as you began leaving fleeting kisses along his neck. "Tell me, love. How could I possibly repay you?" you purred, your voice laced with honey. Your other hand was placed on his chest right abover his heart so you could feel the sudden change in rhythm.
Your lips curled in a smirk, ghosting over his. "Do I make you nervous, darling?"
Kunikida swiftly seized your wrists and pushed you away from him. For a good couple of seconds he refused to look at you, opting to gaze out of the window.
'Oh no, I fucked up' you said to yourself, trying to set your hands free. "I'm sorry honey I didn't mean to~"
You were suddenly silenced by your boyfriend's lips pressed against yours; his nails grazing the skin of your neck as his fingers entangled in your hair. The kiss was passionate and rough but didn't last long and when he pulled away you could see the desire burning in his eyes. You held his gaze for a while, trying to catch your breath. Neither of you said anything in this time and the tension was growing by the second.
"Do you want to move this to the bedroom?" you finally asked.
He eagerly nodded and got out of the tub, picking you up with ease; you shrieked, arms snaking around his neck to help find your balance. He placed you on top of the soft mattress and leaned in, lips hovering over yours.
"Happy birthday darling" was all he said before kissing your lips again.
𝑷𝒐𝒆
remember when I said that Kunikida would blush? he blushes ten times harder.
"Uh I mean, yes... I mean if you want to. I'd like that"
just don't tease him, he'll blush so much
loves to update you on his latest novels and he'll surely recite you poems if you ask him
this man adores candles; I feel like he'd have some black ones for the vibes
mentiones Ranpo at least one time
"Edgar my dear can you come here for a second?"
Your words sounded more like an order than a request, which made your boyfriend tense in anticipation. You had gone on a business trip for a few days and returned to Yokohama only about an hour ago, time that you spent unpacking your luggage. During this time Poe worked on his latest novel. He was so absorbed in his writing that he didn't even notice you propped against the doorframe. Your words however snapped him out of his trance.
"Yes my love. What is it?" he spoke shily.
Your eyes narrowed as you scanned his body "When was the last time you took a shower? Or had a proper meal?"
Your question took his by surprise and he fumbled for words. "Well uh I mean... maybe it was yesterday or?"
"Darling, you can't keep doing this to yourself. Every time I'm away you neglect yourself and it's really unhealthy". As you spoke your lips formed a tight line but your gaze was still soft. "Come on, let's take a bath together. I need a shower too."
Poe blushed. He'd never blushed so hard in his entire life; he felt like his whole body was on fire. But he knew he wasn't in any position to refuse you so he simply nodded.
"Good." you chimed "I'll go get the bath ready."
Twenty minutes later you were both submerged; the shifting flames of the tall black candles made the tiny bubbles of soap shimmer in technicolour. You were leaning against your boyfriend's chest and could feel his rapid heartbeat. He was silent and his muscles were so tense that not even your gentle touch was able to ease them.
"Would you like to tell me about your most recent work?" you eventually asked "I'd love to hear about it"
"Of course. Y/N I'm telling you this will sure be a challenge for Ranpo. It's about this man who [...]"
Poe started telling you all the details of his novel. His passion has always been something you admired so much so that you couldn't contain your smile when you heard him talk. Once again, your heart was swelling with love and care for the man in front of you.
"I love you, Edgar" you suddenly blurted out.
He immediately fell silent and you spun to face him. Cupping his cheeks with your soapy hands you pulled him into a tender kiss.
All this time Poe was a blushing mess. His hands sqeezed the plush of your hips as he tried to ground himself.
When you eventually pulled away with a loving smile on your face, he rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you too, my little raven" he hummed softly.
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