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#to be CLEAR i do not ship these two? and i do not know why i drew this?
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oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy
This one's got a little kick to it ough
70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"
......
"Honey..wh..what is this?"
"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"
"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"
"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."
"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."
"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."
"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"
"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."
"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"
"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."
As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.
What could he say?
This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..
He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.
"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."
"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendanf, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"
Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-
Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.
He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.
By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...
And by your hands, that bond was severed.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."
And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.
The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.
You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.
However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.
He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.
But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.
Four out of the six, in fact.
'Oh man..it happened again..'
You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.
Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.
Why? You were only gone for a few hours..
You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..
"Shane, sweetheart?"
Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.
"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"
He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.
A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.
You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.
Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.
Was it...you?
Was you being away stressing him out?
Did he think you wouldn't come back-
"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?"
Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?
Even after talking him off a cliff?
Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?
Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?
"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.
"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."
With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else."
"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."
"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"
"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."
Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.
"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.."
You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.
"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."
"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."
"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."
"...you promise not to laugh?"
"I promise."
"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."
"Huh..really?"
"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears.
"....."
"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."
"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask."
"Thank you.." He nodded, finally calming down and realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.
You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."
Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the mermaid pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.
Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.
You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.
Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.
But you'll still be here for him no matter what.
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foragerm · 3 days
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Off Your Feet
A small walk under the gentle moon invites a tender conversation.
Ship: Jack Howl x Deuce Spade (ジャクデユ)
Fluff, short drabble
this is self indulgent. I just want them to have a soft moment. WARNING JACK IS VERY IN LOVE wwww such a sap
Red bleeds into yellows and oranges, sinking with the sun beneath the horizon as the night pulls over the world like a grand curtain. The stars are distant shy things; their lights dim but sure in the darkening sky. Soon they will be as clear as opals, pure and bright. The wind sweeps through everything; leaves, grass and all.
By this time he's usually back in the dorm. Doing homework, studying, getting some proper food and rest for the next day. Theres an advance reading assignment he has to do. Theres a quiz to prepare for. Theres club tomorrow and he has to get ready for the laps they'll have to do.
But then he hears soft pattering against the grass. Even if all sound was taken from him, he'd know those footsteps.
"Jack!"
Deuce hastens his pace when he sees him, lips curled softly and eyes bright with joy.
Right. Thats the reason why he's here.
Despite himself, Jack's tail wags when Deuce slots himself to his side. Pale knees knocking against his pants and his hair brushing against Jack's shoulder.
"You got in trouble again."
"Woah! How'd you know?"
"You're all trouble."
"Ace threw it at my face!"
That explains it, that sickly sweetness clinging to his face. Lingering even as it's been washed away. Theres hints of it in Deuce's hair, mixing in with the cool mint shampoo he uses.
Jack shakes his head, "Riddle chewed you both out, didn't he."
"Yeah," Deuce sighs. "But I cleaned up extra fast, you know. I like walking with you."
I like it too. "... It's nice."
"What about you? What was your day like?"
"My day was..."
They talk about this. That. Anything. Nothing. Everything. Deuce's remedials with Crewel-sensei. How he's learned a bit of baking from Trey and how he'd gone out of his way to search up a low cal high protein cookie recipe to make for Jack one day. The small brawl he had with Ace when he threw the dough at him to mess around. How he called his mom the other day after their last walk. His voice is soft, loving whenever he talks about her.
Jack listens. And then he tells him about about the articles he's read about magical wheels, if only to understand Deuce's obsession with it. Tells him about how the cacti have been growing well, and how his run times have been getting better. He's nearing his goal, and he wants Deuce to watch him tomorrow. To run by his side.
"That's so cool!" Deuce immediately cheers.
Then he grins.
"We should race while we're at it too."
"Hah. You sound confident."
"I'll make you eat dust tomorrow."
Time dragged on. They talked about what'd they do tomorrow. They talk until Jack's mouth is dry and parched, but all he can do is look at the pink peeking out of Deuce's mouth when he talks. His gaze follows his hands when he gestures animatedly. He's drawn to the way Deuce's eyes scrunch at the force of his joy. It's not like he's starved for time with Deuce - these days, they walk towards each other without thinking. He steals time during breaks to talk to him. He sits with him when he eats. He stops to have even a single second with him when he spots him down the hall. But Jack knows that tomorrow, he'll wait out in the setting sun, just for their regular night walks.
Jack knows that ancient feeling. The way his heart is rattling like an beast in a cage when he's with him.
He stares and stares. Do you feel that way too?
They finally stop at a bench. Theres silence for a while. Just two under the gentling light of the moon. Deuce rests against him, curling his foot just so around his ankle.
Jack steadies him by the waist.
The night is so warm.
"My mom watches those shows," Deuce spoke up suddenly, "She likes to update me about it even if I don't watch it."
"What kind of show?"
"The one that came out a few weeks ago. Vil-senpai's in it."
"I didn't think your mom would was the romance kind."
Deuce laughs. "She loves it. I think I like it too."
"... You do?"
"I watched a bit."
"Weren't you cramming an essay?"
"It, it was a small break!" Deuce insisted.
Jack hummed. "An honor student break."
Deuce nods seriously.
"An honor student break!"
"Then, was it good? The show?"
"Yeah. To be honest, I didn't think I'd vibe with it, but...the walks, the candlelight dinners, the roses - It's the little things that are nice. The main couple finally got together on a night like this, you know. I thought it was cool."
Thats...
"You'd like that?" Jack's voice is faint, even to his own ears.
"It doesn't fit me, right?" Deuce whispered, "But I'd like to get swept off my feet!"
I can do that.
Jack's mouth opens and closes, forming words and noises that don't exist. They've never talked about love before. Not girls. Or boys.
I can do that. I can take you out for dinners. We could have late night walks like this all the time. I can bring you roses. I'd bring anything you want and put it at your feet.
Theres a lot of things he could say.
But what comes out of his mouth is, "... I have a broom."
Deuce blinks at him. Those wide, clueless eyes. "Eh? Why did you bring one? Where is it?"
"Sweep... you off your... Nothing."
"Jack? Jack, where are you going all of a sudden?"
When Jack manages to outrun Deuce he breathes in the cool night air, willing it to calm his heated face.
Tomorrow.
He'll tell him during tomorrow's walk.
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saintsenara · 1 day
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hi again! For the ship asks please. I would love if you talked about Molly/Bellatrix. There's just something so unhinged about them that I love. They were canonically similar ages in school. And then to have Bellatrix die by Molly's wand. ICONIC.
thank you so much for the ask, pal!
and what a pairing!
obviously, the everything-comes-full-circle vibes of mollytrix hooking up when they were young, having a bad break-up which was only made worse by their divergent loyalties in the first war, and then seeing each other for the first time in decades just before molly blasts bella in the face for trying to murder her daughter is a hot premise in and of itself.
but something i really back about these two - and something i think is genuinely fascinating to explore about them - is that molly's narrative mirror in the canon text is narcissa malfoy. bellatrix's sister.
both narcissa and molly are set up in the books as figures who are simultaneously central to their families and their arcs across the series, and yet excluded from their families more generally by the narrative.
molly, for example, lacks the daring streak which characterises the rest of her family who appear in the main cast of the series. she's much more interested in social convention, and she's estranged from the child with whom she is most aligned on this point - percy - for much of the series. she isn’t a quidditch fan [there’s no conceivable reason why she wouldn’t come to the world cup if she was], she doesn’t seem to have any friends or connections that she doesn’t also share with arthur [whereas he seems to be genuinely popular among his colleagues at the ministry], and she's almost never seen outside of a domestic context - and when she is, it’s usually while shopping or doing other activities which are adjacent to the domestic sphere.
narcissa gets less development because she’s a more minor character, but she clearly lacks the rebellious streak which both bellatrix and andromeda must possess in order to defy the wizarding world’s gendered conventions so openly [and i think that the implication of canon is that bellatrix and andromeda were always closer than either sister was with narcissa]. she’s not a death eater - unlike her husband and son - and is therefore excluded from both lucius and draco’s main social circle. she doesn’t appear to have any friends outside of her family that she doesn’t know through lucius. and she too is found in canon primarily in a domestic or domestic-adjacent context.
i think that both narcissa and molly must, therefore, be quite lonely. and i think that it's clear - especially in half-blood prince - that bellatrix doesn't entirely understand this about her sister. she clearly views narcissa's determination to protect draco as the sort of feminine panic she has so ostentatiously separated herself from through her refusal to be an obedient wife and mother - and she clearly views narcissa leaning on snape to do this as her sister leaning into gendered conventions which require her to subordinate herself to man, and therefore ignoring what she's bothered by [that snape is starting to outrank her in voldemort's favour].
and i think this can be extended into the mollytrix premise above - a school-aged bellatrix not being able to understand why molly would aspire to get married and have children, or why she would value her domestic role; adult bellatrix looking down on the fact that molly [correctly!] considers the domestic work she does for the order to be integral to keeping the order running; bellatrix not understanding why percy's estrangement from the family, or fred's death [which she taunts molly with in their duel] is so devastating; bellatrix assuming that she's in control of the long shadow of their relationship, and then being caught completely off-guard when molly reveals she can properly fight.
i'd tune in.
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peterofthedrakes · 3 months
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if you like my work, please consider commissioning me!
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hecksupremechips · 1 month
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Shinjiham is cute when it’s romantic but tbh I think i vastly prefer the idea of them being best friends instead. Like, neither of them really saw it coming and weren’t really looking to get another best friend (Shinji has Akihiko, Kotone has Junpei and Yukari respectively) but it happens anyway. Kotone takes a liking to Shinji much faster than she does anyone else and I’d say a big reason is just the fact that he’s so reserved that it allows Kotone to do most of the talking while he just listens and they love this arrangement cuz Kotone doesn’t get to talk about her own interests very much. Though I think some of her needs to talk to Shinji stems from this insecurity that he isn’t happy in the group and she has this people pleasing problem and wants everyone to be happy so she makes a much bigger effort to talk to Shinji. And it’s very unfortunate because Shinji intentionally acts cold and distant because he doesn’t want to form any attachments because he wants to die soon, but aaaaaaaagh dammit this girl just keeps talking to him and being sweet and encouraging him to engage in his interests and share them with the others and he just can’t seem to say no when she’s got those damn puppy eyes. And Kotone is just able to get him out of his shell by being persistent but not in an overwhelming way, she’s very cheerful and supportive of him. And Shinji is able to offer her support by encouraging her to talk about herself and by making sure she’s taking care of herself. They just click really well and make such a positive dent in each other’s lives and it’s all about basic acts of kindness going a long way you know?
#persona#persona 3#kotone shiomi#shinjiro aragaki#i uh. probably didnt do much here to prove that their relationship is best when its platonic akjsks i mean idk how to convey it#that these two are just so good for each other but that im just not feeling it romantically#and why should i honestly like cant a guy and a girl just be platonic soulmates like me and jackie aljsks#plus i just have other ships with these characters i like better ahem akishinji and mitsuham yall already know#and i just feel really comforted by their relationship being best friends cuz it makes the pocket watch a lot more power of friendship#and it just. irks me the idea that its romantic love that saves shinji and its romantic love that gave him a will to live#cuz first off you can save him without romancing him and also like if you think kotone is the only person he wants to live for#youre just wrong like in fact its very clear in his social link that he feels this strong love for everyone#its literally like why other characters are so ingrained into his link he loves everyone and they love him back#its just kotone who organizes the time for them all to get together plus like idk when ppl say shinji only wants to live after romancing#kotone its like. well hes not gonna have a good time post coma then huh#and i suppose the point being made is he has to learn to live even if his gf isnt there but again like. shes not the only thing he has#idk i just hate this like pedestal romantic relationships are put on and i hate the implications that like#akihiko has been trying for years to protect shinji and his love doesnt matter cuz it isnt some heterosexual romance#grrrrr it just irks me is all and yeah i just think theyre besties who do everything together#kotone is like shinjis emotional support animal that guides him through the scary crowds and shinji is off putting enough to scare away the#meanies that come their way and they have a dress up montage and make cookies
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lindonwald · 1 year
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soooo,,,,Bridgerton AU?
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duckuwu · 1 month
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me, whilst reading the unbroken & the faithless: oh, touraine, you idiot (fondly).
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sukugojo · 8 months
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different anon here, i came here wanting to clarify something but i saw that your reply took the words out of my mouth HAHAH it's funny seeing some of us shippers sharing the same braincells and having similar opinions. love this small community but i hope it gets bigger (wake tf up people!!! are 15 consecutive canon suspicious homoerotic chapters not enough for people on the international jjk fandom to finally start shipping them?!)
the something being that i don't sense any malicious hateful intent coming from either gojo or sukuna. this is a rare enemies/rivals trope imo. like their whole theme is about teaching love and trying to maybe come to a mutual understanding despite fate cruelly putting them on the opposite sides, as they are really just different sides of the same coin. and that's one of the many reasons why i love this pairing. it's not easy to find a non-toxic enemies/rivals dynamic portrayal in media so i'm glad that jjk is an exception.
p/s: i'm an extremely introverted person so unfortunately i won't have the social battery to continue this conversation, but thanks for reading my ask! i really want to interact more with my people bc yall are lovely and have great tastes but socializing drains me so much
YES YES ANON, they really don't hate each other at all. one thing i was thinking about is how gojo doesn't seem to think of sukuna as this malicious Evil thing that other sorcerers (rightfully) make him out to be. he... really hasn't been shown to harbor any ill feelings towards sukuna, even after all he's done.
and their fight is playful, they're playing, they're having fun, it's recreation. sure the fate of the world is at stake here, but that's not what it's about for them at all.
there's not hate, not even dislike, it's simply. well to steal canon's words. love. an overwhelming sense of pleasure, of satisfaction, of fulfillment.
and i LOVE that u mention "despite fate cruelly putting them on the opposite sides" bc YEAH YEAH, that's part of the tragedy of them. there's too many factors outside their own personal satisfaction at play.
and i think there is also a bit of a paradox in there. they're looking for someone with whom to share that solitude that comes at the lonely top. but... that's something i don't think to be possible. sure they're equals, that's the thing, but at the same time, their existences clash just by definition. bc there can't be two strongest. there can only be one.
both can't live at the same time. if one lives, the other can't live by definition.
no one understands them bc they're the strongest, but once they find someone who might be able to—and who does—dont they stop being the strongest?
#sukugojo.post#(but also scratch all that. we are not gonna think about that bc if either of them die i will be inconsolable they can't fucking die bc tha#would make me. incredibly sad. OTL)#gege should just have them marry each other. why can't they just be TWO strongest why the fuck not. The Strongest husbands.#a true power couple#got kinda sidetracked there haha but yeah! i feel we all just a share a collective braincell that gets passed around hkdfjhsd#'are 15 consecutive canon suspicious homoerotic chapters not enough for people to finally start shipping them?!' SAY ITTTTTTTTTT#and i think what sets them apart is that they're rivals on OPPOSITE sides who are not laden with hate.#bc there's a clear cut good-evil dichotomy. we have the good guys and bad guys who are against each other and whose goal is to stop e/o#sukugo are on opposite sides but still hold no sense of hate or disdain or anything for each other.#there's simply regard and expectation and (i'm sorry for saying it all the fucking time but it's true) love.#dhsjfdfs it's almost like they operate on a completely different plane to the others (which well yeah they kinda do as the strongest)#they don't particularly care about that whole thing.#they only care about their position as strongest and what the other can give them in regards to that#jjk#sukugo#gosuku#u know i mentioned once in a post i made in my main blog how gojo only speaks of sukuna in a cheerful reverent way#which was half just me being shippy but this made me think about that#bc ok that could be said to be simply his way of being BUT we DO see gojo show disdain for people he dislikes. very clearly.#he speaks super ill of the jujutsu world higher ups. but he doesn't ever extend that dislike to sukuna#who's u know. the Embodiment of Evil#while gojo may be an outwardly cheery person when he doesn't like u. u WILL know. he's actually quite honest there#and he shows respect for sukuna. considers it an honor to be sukuna's rival.#(tho he IS still a fucking brat <3)#god sorry i will shut up now cshfhaskdjsakffs#alas!!! it's really alright anon i totally get it. u dont have to answer. that's kinda the great thing about asks haha c:#but if u ever wanna talk more about them well the askbox is always open :D#GONNA END THIS BY SAYIGN THAT I AM SCARED I AM NERVOUS ABOUT THE NEXT CHAPTER AAAHHHHHHHH
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adamsvanrhijn · 2 years
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kind of weird honestly for people to get offended by. imagining i gave up on and was pleased by the canonical break up of a ship that literally saved my life to the point of going through the five stages of fucking grief about it without ever bothering to check if anything i said actually matched what people were telling you it said or like. you know. asking me about it directly
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spinogreen0iq · 8 months
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someday I might…
Whooopsss I’m pushing the Todd & Jonny agenda again…
These two are perfect together cause most importantly symbolism and they deeply care about each other, just in different ways.
tldr their relationship is so confusing and complicated it’s giving me severe brainrot :]]
BTW HAVE U SEEN THE PROCREATE DREAMS REVEAL HOLY SHIT
hype is an understatement
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wyvernest · 7 months
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hands on you
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pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader
warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?
summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club
Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.
Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.
This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.
The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.
But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.
"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.
You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.
"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-
No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.
As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.
But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.
You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.
The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.
The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.
"I know what you're doing."
"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.
He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.
"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.
You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.
"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.
As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.
His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.
Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.
Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.
Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.
He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.
His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.
The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.
You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.
"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.
"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"
The bastard.
You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.
Not gonna happen.
"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.
You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.
The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.
You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.
Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-
Fuck.
Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.
The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.
You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.
Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.
More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.
"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.
"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.
He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.
You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.
Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.
You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.
Smiling, like, what's wrong?
You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.
Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.
Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.
You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.
"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.
"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."
He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.
One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.
Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.
You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.
The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.
"Let's get out of here."
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn
5K notes · View notes
httpsclarye · 7 months
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#GOOD LOKING+!
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Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.
Ao3: Good Looking
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023
6K notes · View notes
ladadiida · 8 months
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
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You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
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again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
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rafeysdoll · 25 days
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rafe x crybaby!reader who cries and has a full on meltdown in front of rafe and his friends because he said no when she asked him to buy her this new expensive bag!🎀
ahhh i’m sorry i honestly hate the way i wrote this so much im so sorry i really hope you like it:< rafe is just a little mean but i mean come on! it’s rafe <3 im sorry i didn’t really make her have like a whole real big meltdown i just honestly couldn’t write it :<
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‘DENIED’ the website reads, just as you were about to finish off your purchase for the new pink limited edition bag you had been eyeing. what? you frown, quickly jumping off your bed, slipping into your pink crocs— following the noise downstairs, knowing rafe and his friends were hanging out in the living room.
“rafe?” you call, giving a quick greeting to topper and kelce before sitting besides your boyfriend. “whys it say that?,” you ask, glittery gloss lips in a form of a halfway pout as you show your phone to rafe.
he leans in, taking a quick glance at it before a small chuckle leaves his lips. “you.. you uh.. really don’t remember?”
your brows furrow, head tilting. “what do you mean, ray?” confusion laced in your voice.
he looks away briefly before landing back at you. “well.. thanks to that little stunt you pulled on monday, i decided i won’t be paying for anymore of your little shopping sprees ‘till next week.” he states, lips smacking together.
“w-what?” you nervously giggle, cheeks starting to heat up.
it was safe to say, you weren’t used to rafe telling you no. every single thing you wanted or asked for was given to you in a few days thanks to express shipping.
you had got perfectly accustomed to the title of being rafe’s spoiled girlfriend. constantly skipping over prices and simply swiping his card. “i.. i thought you were only kidding, daddy.” you mumble softly, not wanting the boys to hear.
“i don’t kid about setting you straight, baby.” he says simply, your eyes already starting to burn.. embarrassment clouding your mind.
“but you already punished me!” you whine as quietly as you can, one of the small tears up in your eyes falls as you recollect the memory of when he had you bent over his lap, spanking you until your ass was practically engraved with his handprint.
“please daddy, it’ll already be sold out by next week,” you cry, trying to make him understand.
but he only looks away, shaking his head. “don’t you have enough purses anyway? bought you plenty already.” he continues, making more tears stream down your cheek at his reluctance.
you notice topper and kelce staring now, concerned with whatever it was you were crying about, looking to themselves with confused expressions. rafe however, was used to your dramatics.
“you’re just being mean, rafe! i already paid for my mistake.” you plead, grabbing his hands and squeezing them lightly.
topper clears his throat, clearly feeling uncomfortable with the whole situation. kelce hides a small smirk, but pretends not to hear the ordeal anyway.
rafe couldn’t care less for the audience, always loving when he had any spotlight with the way he handled you. an opportunity to flaunt the power dynamic between you two.
rafe puts on a faux pout, even making a small “awe” sound as he moves one hand to wipe your tears. “oh i’m being mean, really? that.. that supposed to make me cave in, hm? let you run along and think every single punishment isn’t serious?”
he was so cruel you thought, his mocking pulling at your heart in a negative way. “hey, stop crying, okay? you know im not doing this for fun. these are consequences to your actions.” he prompts, every tear that falls on your cheek being wiped by his hands.
“p-please, just this once..” you mewl. “i promise i wont ask for another bag for awhile, promise! i’ll be real good.” you beg.
maybe it was the way your sad eyes looked at him, or the way your manicured hand squeezed his own, or maybe he just wanted you to stop bugging him, thinking about the blow job he’d ask for later— or maybe it was simply cause he had grown soft. but regardless, he still bites his lips and nods. “alright fine— i’ll buy it now so it doesn’t sell out, but when it comes you’re gonna give it me to hold it until next week still.” he tells you, filling in his card information on the site.
“r-really? oh thank you!” you squeal, giving him a tight hug. “mhm, better be.”
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Bet on It
Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader
Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you
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“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.
His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.
You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.
Which is every time he’s asked.
“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”
You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”
He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.
“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.
“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”
He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”
You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.
“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”
“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”
His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”
You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.
“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”
You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.
“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”
You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.
Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.
“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”
His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.
“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?
“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”
You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.
On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...
Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.
But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”
A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”
You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”
He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?
***
Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.
You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.
But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.
The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.
Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.
The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.
Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.
Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.
You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.
With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.
Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.
You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.
He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.
“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.
You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.
“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.
“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.
He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”
You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.
The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.
After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.
Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.
“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.
You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”
“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”
Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.
“See you tonight, Y/N.”
Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.
You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.
No matter how dreamy his eyes are.
***
The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.
Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.
“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”
You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”
You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.
During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.
Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.
After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.
You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.
When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.
Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.
“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”
Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.
“I’d like that too,” you whisper.
A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.
One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.
When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.
Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.
This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.
The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.
At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.
When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.
Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”
Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.
You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”
***
The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.
You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.
Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.
Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.
“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.
You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.
Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.
Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.
Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.
Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.
The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.
You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.
“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.
You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”
Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”
Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.
“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”
He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.
Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”
With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.
“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.
He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”
You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.
Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.
And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.
***
After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.
You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.
A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.
Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.
You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.
“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.
A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.
You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”
“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.
You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”
Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.
You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”
That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.
When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”
He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”
He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.
“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.
The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.
His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.
You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”
Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”
Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.
By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.
Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”
“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”
His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”
You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.
A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.
1K notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI. 
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
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“Hey.” 
“Hm?” 
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer. 
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk. 
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly. 
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.” 
“There’s something wrong with me,” 
“Well yes,” 
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.” 
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you. 
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?” 
He nearly snaps his pen in half. 
“What do you fucking think?!” 
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.” 
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything. 
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,” 
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,” 
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having. 
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are. 
“And…?” 
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.” 
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem. 
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now) 
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.” 
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.” 
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place. 
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.” 
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.” 
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?” 
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?” 
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.” 
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.” 
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,” 
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?” 
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,” 
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands. 
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.” 
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,” 
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.” 
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh. 
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?” 
He stares at you. “With what.” 
“With your dick being broken,” 
“What?!” 
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.” 
He hates more than anything that you have a point. 
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,” 
He pulls back a little. 
“...Are you fine with that?” 
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,” 
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.” 
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.” 
He leans back in his chair and groans. 
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.” 
__ 
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer. 
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried. 
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text. 
Fine. Come Saturday. 
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact. 
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.) 
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous. 
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship. 
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him. 
Is he stupid? 
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens. 
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him. 
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time. 
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring. 
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile. 
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?” 
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,” 
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag. 
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.” 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.” 
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,” 
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.” 
“Not the same thing.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress. 
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably,  the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue. 
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.” 
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit.  He frowns. Typical. 
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this. 
“Handcuffs? Seriously?” 
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.” 
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing.  What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit.  “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?” 
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,” 
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?” 
“I don’t care.” 
“That’s not an answer,” 
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.” 
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?” 
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.” 
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.” 
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?” 
He stares at you. 
“The fuck…?” 
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.” 
“Is it necessary?” 
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?” 
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Yeah…’m fine with it.” 
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little. 
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now.  There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.” 
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot. 
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.” 
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?” 
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.” 
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale. 
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,” 
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things. 
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress. 
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw. 
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?” 
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.” 
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.” 
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you. 
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing. 
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged. 
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand. 
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.” 
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile. 
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust. 
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous. 
“That’s it, baby,”  You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?” 
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in. 
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast. 
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back. 
“Do you wanna…keep going?” 
He gets hard. Fuck. 
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,” 
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings. 
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?” 
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,” 
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness. 
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual. 
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles. 
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going. 
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,” 
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there. 
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,” 
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating. 
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good? 
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star. 
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels. 
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,” 
His blush deepens.. 
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,” 
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease. 
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline.  “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .” 
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “ 
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—” 
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.” 
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple. 
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him. 
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck. 
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel. 
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?” 
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause. 
“Hey,” Your expression is  serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,” 
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall. 
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,” 
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” 
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter. 
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display. 
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed. 
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you. 
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.” 
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?” 
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,” 
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back. 
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration. 
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?” 
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace. 
“Say it.” 
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.” 
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever. 
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options. 
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,” 
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire. 
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight. 
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch. 
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.” 
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,” 
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.” 
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,” 
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?” 
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs. 
 You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore. 
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and  how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him. 
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good. 
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too. 
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly. 
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,” 
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything  - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain. 
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced. 
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell. 
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline. 
“Still all there?” 
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,” 
You giggle. 
“So… no?” 
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh. 
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.” 
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?” 
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.” 
He groans. 
“You’re insane.” 
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. 
“You love me.” 
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it. 
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