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\ō͡≡o 𝘛𝘦𝘫 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘍𝘈𝘛𝘍 o≡͡ō/

Movie: Fast And The Furious  Love interest: Tej Parker

Request: supitslaura (wattpad) ‘can you do tej parker x female reader for me please? 💕’

 Some info before start: (Y/N) = your name (Y/F/N) = your full name (H/C) = your hair color (H/L) = your hair length (E/C) = your eye color (F/C) = your favorite color 

“Teeejjjjjjjjjj.” You whined loudly.

“What baby?” Tej asked and finally looked up from the car he was working on.

“Can we cuddle.” You pouted and stuck your bottom lip out. “Pleeeeeaaaaaaasssssseeeeee.” You pleaded.

“... fine, just 5 minutes and I will join you on the couch.”

“Yay!” You jumped around with joy. Tej watched you with a smile on his face because of your childish act and the big smile plastered on your beautiful face.

You ran out of the garage and pushed your door to the house open and sprinted for the remote and a movie to watch. You decided on Netflix instead of a movie. You scrolled through the almost endless pages of movies and series on Netflix. After the third line with movies, you decided on ‘Grease’ the first movie.

When Tej finally joined you on the couch, he didn't have a single drop of oil or grease on him, instead he smelled of his cologne, you grew to love. You snuggled up to him and started the movie. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder and played with your soft hair. Halfway through the movie your eyes got heavy, and you fell asleep against the love of your life. Tej heard the small snores coming from you. He chuckled and removed the arm there were wrapped around you and turned off the tv. He picked you up bridal style and walked to your shared bedroom, placed you on the bed and pushed the warm comfortable comforter over you and placed a kiss to your lips. He got ready for bed and placed himself on the bed beside you and under the comforter. You rolled over and snuggled up against him. He held you against his warm body and fell asleep to your small, cute snores.

♫ Sorry it was a short one, but I hope you like it! ♫ ♫ Love: your writer Crabat♫

Wilted Petals | Sanemi x fem!reader Hashira NSFW (18+), MDNI

Synopsis: Sanemi meets yn during the selection, taking a liking to her attitude and spirited way of talking to him. They grow closer due to their shared trauma and become lovers. On the night before their wedding Sanemi ventures out to find one of your favorite flowers. He never returns. That is, the Sanemi you once knew never returns. Warnings: MDNI, NSFW (18+), family death, demon killing, fainting, blood, gore, death, child death, injury, grief, heartbreak, pregnancy, alone, depression, oral (male!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), fingering, raw sex, creampie, breeding kink, obsessive kink, engagement, dirty talk (outside of the bedroom), angst...so much angst.... WC: 13.6k A/n: he calls her Petal 14 times. She was 14 when they first met... I'm not okay. This fucking fic ruined me. This is also mostly unedited...sorry

Sanemi would often tell you how you entirely envelop him. In your eyes, he was able to picture the future. In the timbre of your voice, he could recall the past. In your body, he was grounded in the present time. It was love. 

The world was falling apart around you both, but together you could rebuild anything. To think it all started with a flower. 

7 years ago…

The air was a different kind of weight in your nostrils. You could sense them, the demons. Some of the low-grade ones snarling with inhuman urges. You click your tongue, bored by the whole scheme of this showdown. What? Were you supposed to slay all these weak pieces of garbage while the rest of the Demon Slayer Corporation went after the ones that could form a coherent thought? All that consumed these losers was hunger. If you must partake, the sooner this is over the better. 

You wonder if there’s anyone else still alive, but before you can become lost in thought again a booming yell cuts through the trees. You tilt your head, knitting your brows together as the sound echoes through your ears. Hmm, what an interesting development. Your feet are bringing you toward the source of the sound before you know it. 

Brushing past some foliage you wait silently in the bush, observing the open area in front of you. There, looming and grotesque is a demon, gurbbling some nonsense about being in pain. Then, a sharp and shiny hoe comes crashing down on the skull – or whatever that thing had in its head because it definitely wasn’t a brain – of the demon. It yelps out in agony, slumping to the ground as ichor oozes from its many wounds. You watch as brisk movements suddenly have a chain wrapped around the mass of the demon. “You don’t need to be scared.” A voice calls from beyond the large body of the demon. “It’s dead.” The voice is lower this time, like the person holding that tone also held some deep regrets. 

Standing from the bush you were crouched in, you brush off the dirt from your trousers. “Scared? Please, I was bored waiting for you to finally finish off the damn thing.” You snap back, circling round the corpse. 

Mussed silver hair and those eyes… they bore into your very soul when they meet your own. He had to be the same age as you, maybe older. He carried himself in such a way that you were drawn to take a step closer. “I don’t know whether to applaud or roll my eyes. You obviously have an attitude problem.” He scoffs, tossing the muddled hoe to the side. “It’s dangerous to just stand around, come with me.” 

A giggle falls from your lips before you can stifle it. “With you? So you can yell another demon to its death? I think I can handle myself.” His eyes track your movement as you pull a sharp dagger from your belt. You flip it in the air, catching it by the handle with ease. 

He rolls his eyes this time. “A few party tricks will wind up with you dead,” He mutters, nodding his head toward the treeline. “Besides, we don’t have much time before the selection is finished.” Ah, he was right about that. It was better to stick with someone who knew their way out of this forest, because if there was one thing you weren’t good at, it was directions. 

 You kick at the dirt, the dust spreading onto a few kikus by a tree stump. “Fine, but you’re sharing your Ohagi.” You demand, trotting up to stand next to him. He peers down at you, some of his hair falling into his lavender eyes. You get a flashback to your little brother and how the same thing would happen to him. It’s a simple action, but you regret it as soon as his eyes dart from your hand back to your eyes. 

He catches your wrist, pulling it from his face. “Don’t touch me.” He growls, but quickly clears his throat, letting go of your arm. “And I am not sharing my Ohagi.” 

2 years later

That’s it, you were going to quit. Sanemi stares deadpanned toward the recently slaughtered demon, his nichirin sword covered in ichor. He then darts his gaze toward your figure, which also happens to be covered in demon ichor. “Nemi…don’t make me take this sword and shove it so far up your-” 

There’s a loud crack from behind you. Another demon looms out from behind a tree, drooling from its maw. A sigh deflates from your mouth, pissed at the interruption. You’d have to deal with Nemi later because now it was your turn to show off. The swordsmiths had trouble with you having less muscle density than the rest of the slayers. But when they saw how talented you were with close range daggers, they took that with stride. 

You pull your long blade dagger from its sheath, grinning at the large demon. “Remember, don’t get distracted-” 

“Kind of need you to shut up in order to do that Emi,” You crack your neck, beckoning the sludge-like demon toward you. “Come on fucker, I have a warm bath to take before this uniform is completely ruined.” You taunt, bouncing from foot to foot, channeling a wind style Sanemi had taught you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see a grin cock up the corner of his lips as you twist into formation. Focus glazes over your eyes as the muscles in your body harden. Your breath is almost non-existent as you set your target on the blobby creature. It wasn’t fit to be called a demon, more akin to something so close to death it was barely alive. 

Your nichirin sword hums with untapped potential, ready to explode forth and cut your target to shreds. You were practically giddy with excitement as your left foot slides forward, completing the set up. Just as the monster lets out a screeching roar you surge forward. The blade of your weapon cuts through its skin, severing an arm off with a high pitched yelp. 

Flipping back, you send a sharp gust of cold wind slicing open its abdomen. It has enough sense to peer down at its open belly, watching what insides it did have become part of the world around it. You suck in the brisk air around you, summoning a trick of your own; ice. A sharp dagger-like icicle appears in front of your chest, hovering in the current you still had summoned. You shut your eyes, picturing the icicle shooting through the girthy neck of your opponent. Then at once, everything is silent – even Sanemi. “Woah, where'd you learn how to do that?” He exclaims, his lavender gaze attached to where your summoned weapon had pinned the dangling – and headless – body of the low-grade demon against a tree. You let go of your focus too quickly, falling to your knees on the forest floor. Sanemi whips his head to observe you. “Hey, you alright? Hey come on, don’t start playing jokes on me-” His voice is cut off, not by anything else except your consciousness slipping away into nothing. 

-

The soft morning light stirs you from your slumber, a crow cawing incessantly outside. Your eyes blink open slowly, a throbbing pinch shooting from your head down your neck. You groan, shifting your sore body under the white blanket. Where were you? Your throat is unexpectedly moist and you feel fine except the stabbing pain in your head. It’s then you can hear the soft breathing of someone else. You peer to your side noting the spikey white hair you knew all too well. His arm is outstretched, his fingertips gingerly gripping your hand. Suddenly – your throat seems to dry up. What? Why is he sleeping there? Your brows knit together as you watch this boy who played up his hard exterior; be unguarded. It was baffling to observe him soundly sleeping over the side of your mattress. His long lashes brush against his squished cheeks and there’s a part in your chest that aches as you watch him. That aching steadily blooms into a warmth that makes your head throb even more. 

Somehow, you’d ended up in the infirmary. Somehow, Sanemi was sleeping by your side. Somehow… the promise you made yourself before entering the Final Selection slips away. There was room – in your heart you mean – for him. It was dangerous how much you yearned to brush your finger against his cheek. “What have you done to me…?” You whispered aloud, leaning your head to Sanemi’s level. “Why do I want to keep you around?”

His eyes twitch, before languidly opening. The first thing they find is your gaze, locking onto the fact you were staring at him. That fuzzy purple color darkens as he wakes up. His lips curve into a smile, but drop into a stern frown once he sits back on his knees. You don’t want to notice, but his hand still clasps yours tightly. “Tch, what the hell were you thinking, faintin’ like that? Your ass was lucky I was there to haul you back to the corps. My back fuckin’ hurts.” He rolls his eyes, but his thumb is gently stroking the back of your hand. He was right. What is wrong with you? He’s frustrated with you but all you can think about is how nice his warm hand feels against yours. 

You clear your throat. “Emi, I’m sorry-” He snaps a fierce look in your direction. 

“Shut yer trap, I’m not done chastising you.” He gripes, huffing out a large breath. “You are the biggest asshole I know. You’re blessed to have such an outstanding friend like me. Anyone else would’ve left you there. Now where’s my reward for savin’ yer ass?” He raises his brows gesturing to himself. 

It’s the medication you tell yourself – that’s why you do it. Your lips brush against his cheek in a delicate peck. With how your heart was hammering in your chest that action was scarier than slaying demons. His reaction – it’s not much to go off considering he freezes mid sentence. “Thank you,” you whisper in a hushed voice, too nervous that loud noises would scare him off. He’s staring, open mouthed, at you. 

A jolt runs through him and he briskly turns his head away from you. “N-next time just say thank you like a normal person…idiot.” He rubs his free hand along the nape of his neck, trying to keep his face out of your line of vision – but you’ve always been observant and your eyes widen as you see the tips of his ear rouge. What you wouldn’t give to see his face right now, but his grip on your hand was enough to tide you over for now. The sun glints off of a vase stuffed with an assortment of kikus. Just like them, something beautiful was budding here.  

1 year later

People were everywhere. It’s not that you had an issue with large groups, but usually when you were surrounded by this many bodies you were killing them. You’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You feel on edge, but then you catch the smiling face of Sanemi Shinazugawa; newest Hashira. You tilt your head, grinning to yourself as you watch him from afar chatting with the flower Hashira – her little sister attached to her leg –  and the much larger stone Hashira. Master Ubuyashiki grins widely at something Sanemi has said, placing a hand on his back. He fits in so well among the elite slayers. “I’m glad they finally made him a Hashira.” A voice mutters from beside you. Your skin crawls with shock that you hadn’t picked up on someone being this close to you. Turning your head you meet the deep azure gaze of Giyu Tomioka, the water pillar. His presence is a wash of serenity. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t talk much or because you could feel the sorrow emanating from him. Was it some sort of requirement to go through tragedy to become a Hashira? If so, they should’ve recruited you a while ago. You scoff at your own joke, bringing Giyu’s transfixed gaze back to you. “Do you not think he’s fit?” Ah, there’s been a misunderstanding. You know what Giyu is asking, but the part of your brain that had grown since a year ago lets a salacious gaze rack up the uniform of the man across the garden. 

You find yourself clenching your thighs together. “Mmm, that's not it at all.” You hum, nodding toward Sanemi. “He’s going to save us all.” You don’t mean to say the last part out loud, but Giyu gives you a long, pondering look. 

There’s footsteps in front of you and you realize Sanemi has wandered toward you. “Good evening ma’am,” he bows his head and scoops up your hand. “Would you like to take a walk?” He inquires, shooting a glare toward the water Hashira. Giyu brushes off the line of territory Sanemi has seemingly drawn. 

“I’m glad to know we share the same sentiment, Miss Yn,” He takes a step back, bowing his head. “I bid you both goodnight.” He says curtly, then disappears around the master’s house.

Sanemi squeezes your hand, bringing your attention back to him. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He mutters. You let out a chuckle, amused by how wrong he could be when he was so smart. “Don’t laugh.” He huffs. He was so cute like this… if only you could just tell him how much he meant to you. Sanemi guides the both of you toward a wisteria tree, stopping under its leaves. “Y’know, I want to thank these trees,” His gaze wanders the branches. 

You smile, following the many petals of the flowering tree. “Why? Because they help you kill demons?” You tease. He did love his demon killing. A rumbling chuckle rattles through his chest. You swear you can feel the vibration in your intertwined hands. 

His gaze is soft as it falls to your face. “No,” he breathes. It’s like a magnet – being drawn to his lips. When you’re close enough to feel his hot breath against your nose he opens his mouth again. “Because they brought us together.” 

You’d never been to the entertainment district to view fireworks, but if they were anything like the buzzing happening against the back of your head – you still don’t think they’d compare. Sanemi gently slides his hand through your hair, caressing the back of your head. You share a trembling breath with him as your mouths clumsily slot together. A breeze brushes along the hanging flowers causing some of them to flutter to the ground. You watch them in the reflection of his eyes as his other hand rubs against your cheek. 

He presses his forehead against yours, shutting his eyes like a starved man. You both are panting, but you can’t look away from his swollen lips. “S-Sanemi,” you start. His eyes open instantly. “I think I’ve…” You swallow hard, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

If there was one thing you knew for certain, Sanemi wasn’t a patient man. “You’re really bad at this,” He chuckles. “I know. I like you too, yeah?” 

Yeah, fireworks didn’t have shit on this. 

8 months later

Sanemi grunts as you slip out from underneath the sheets. The warming glow of the sun basks your room in glorious light. “Mmph, come back to bed,” His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. A grin spreads across your lips. 

“Well, mister Wind Hashira, I need to go train. Now, let go.” You reply, pushing lightly on his muscled arm. He pouts, burrowing his head in your back. 

“Nuh-uh,” he huffs, taking in a deep breath of your scent. “You smell divine, it’s fuckin’ infuriatin’.” He pops up, placing his chin on your shoulder. You roll your eyes with a laugh. Sanemi and you had added a few things to your friendship; like sleeping in the same bed. After a long day of work there was nothing more heavenly than walking through his door. It was home and you’d be damned if anything would happen to it. You both had yet to cross into the zone of no return – sex. You kissed… a lot, but everything halted there. No funny business. There was an understanding that this was something special, but both of you were scared to step over the line. Maybe you weren’t ready. Maybe after you became a Hashira – to become equal enough to walk by his side. “What’s my pretty girl thinking about?” 

Without a second beat you answer honestly. “Training until I drop.”

3 years later… present day.

You bow your head. “Master,” you greet. Ubuyashiki’s illness had worsened over the years to an alarming degree. Of course, you wouldn’t say anything out loud, but it kept you up at night. He taps the wooden deck next to him. 

“Come, sit my child.” He gazes at you until you brush your uniform skirt underneath yourself. The pale light blue of your haori refracts the sun brushing through the petals of wisteria trees. “You take great honor in what you accomplish. I must say, I’m very proud.” He smiles and it’s the kind of warmth that makes you want to melt into his embrace. 

You bow your head, hiding the flush rushing to your cheeks. “Thank you Master.” He places a hand on your shoulder. 

He lifts his gaze to the whispering breeze. “I think it’s time you join our Hashira meetings.” His gaze swoops to look over the once small girl he knew. “You’ve grown Yn and I need people willing to grow on my side.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “Now go, tell Sanemi.” Your mouth opens wide before snapping shut. You stand, politely dismissing yourself before rushing out the main gate of the estate. Your heart is pounding as you sprint back home. A Hashira…finally. You couldn’t believe it. All this effort, work, waiting, it was worth it. You couldn’t wait to see the look on Sanemi’s face. You’d kiss him a million times.

Your legs ache from yesterday’s training, but you push through the soreness. Hashira’s weren’t perfect, they felt pain – but having the title of Hashira was overcoming that pain to succeed in your goal. Was Ubuyashiki testing to see if you could run back to Sanemi? You’re sweating as you turn into the Wind Manor. “Sanemi!” You call, noting his sandals near the deck. “My love!” The words surprise you, but the excitement swelling in your chest overcomes the anxiety that Sanemi would find issue with it.

You trod further into your home, slipping off your boots as you step onto the deck. Sliding open the screen may have been a mistake, because you scream at the sudden presence of Sanemi on the ground. He’s wearing a stupid grin, the scars on his forehead smiling as well. Kiku and wisteria petals surround him – him on one knee. Staring up at you with a golden band pinched between his fingers. “Yn, you make me feel like those broken parts of me that always scream about how awful I am… can finally be mended. You’ve given me everything without even trying. You’re the only person who’s made me feel like I’m worth something. I want that feeling forever… marry me petal. Make me whole. I know we’re young, but with our profession, who knows how much time we’ll have left. I promise I’ll treat you right.” The past 7 years flood through your brain. The universe had put this man into your life when all you thought about was death. In part it was due to having to slaughter the only family member you had left right before the Final Selection. Your little brother had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and as his caregiver – you took care of him until the very end. 

Here was Sanemi, perfect with all his obvious issues. He’d been through so much; you’d been through so much together. He stood by you, yet you felt trepidations about accepting his proposal. He was strong, strong enough to protect you – but could you do the same? He’d been a Hashira much longer than you, seen what kind of dangers are out there. You reach up to trace the scar above his eyebrow. All those years ago he would’ve smacked your hand away, but he leans into your touch now. You were with him for most of the conception of these scars, so why were you jealous of such a permanent part of his body? 

“Yes.” You mutter, the word catching on your tongue. “I love you Sanemi Shinazugawa.” Your eyes meet and before you can choke on regret he kisses all the worries away. Your heart soars in your chest, but there’s a sinking feeling that something awful was going to tear the one good thing in your life away because you finally accepted you wanted to be happy. 

He grabs you and kisses you all over your face. “Let’s tell Ubuyashiki in the morning. With his blessin’ we’ll practically be married. You and me. Husband and wife.” A huge grin takes over both of your faces. What a beautiful melody those words were. 

If the world was about to burn though, you’d give into every carnal desire before it has a chance to fuck everything up. This meant taking the man currently trying to hide his erection to the bedroom you’ve kept innocent; until tonight. You were going to go out fucking or fighting. 

His hard face – the one he shows to everyone else, except you – melts away and is replaced by a genuine smile. “I love you too petal.” The world could wait, right now was just for the two of you. You feed into his kisses, pushing against him with filthy intentions. “Fuck, s’good,” He whispers against your swollen lips. You hadn’t realized, but your hands had worked his hair into a complete mess. “You’re driving me crazy, wife.” The word swipes you off your feet, causing you to falter in your attempts to unbuckle his belt. You blink up at him, furrowing your brows. His head tilts to the left, grinning the way he always does around you. “Got something you want to say gorgeous?” You huff out a frustrated sigh as you take a step back from him. 

“Sanemi.” You start. He quirks a brow, delightedly watching you. No time like the present to be honest with yourself. “I want to fuck you.” You finish off, observing his face drop from all snark to surprise. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but then he shuts it immediately. “Do you like the sound of that, husband?” Two could play this game. His eyes darken as he takes in your figure. 

A hum rumbles through his throat as he takes a confident step toward you. “You want to fuck me or you want me to fuck you?” He cocks a smirk onto his lips, crossing those ungodly arms across his dipping neckline. You swallow, bashfully meeting his gaze. It was annoying how much of an effect he had on you. Normally you’d be fine flirting with him, but the tingling sensation running down your thighs was starting to make you nervous. 

“B-both,” You sputter out, standing your ground as the tips of his feet brush against yours. He bends down next to your ear, letting you revel in the sight of his chest. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of his criss-cross scar. Mmm, X marks the spot.  

His hot breath fans across your neck, sending shots of magma through your body. “Mmm, you sure you can handle all of me? ‘Cause I’m not holding back on you even if you are my wife.” The way he tests the latter word on his tongue makes you squirm in place. “I can barely stop myself from ripping into your uniform as it is.”

Sanemi backs you against the far wall of your home. “Don’t think you can command me around like all those kakushi.” You pout. He caresses your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” This kiss is different from the rest, it’s hungry – starving even. His rough palms are somehow more demanding than they’ve ever been. Your fingers trace the neckline of his uniform, rubbing your thumb across his pectoral scar. His muscles tense under your touch, his lips breaking from yours to pant out a shuddering groan. A fluttering buzz makes it hard to breathe. His head is bent to stare at your fingers, hair hanging in his face. You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him. Your body is at war with itself. How perfect Sanemi is, you wanted to be the only one to see him come undone. 

Your fingers find his belt and his hands firmly plant themselves on either side of your head. It startles you when he lays his forehead against your shoulder, breathy grunts fall from his mouth – it only drives you forward in your actions. His belt slides somewhat easily free from the loops on his breaches. You unloop the button, slipping your hand underneath the clothing. A strangled hiss slides out his throat. “Shit, you’re goin’ to be the death of me.” 

Sanemi groans as you free his stiff cock from his pants. Your breath catches in your throat as you observe the length and girth of him. The color bleeds into an angry red and you swear he muffles a whimper against your skin. “That’s it baby, look at what you’ve done to me.” You glance at the back of his head then back to the beautiful apex of his thighs. You’d only seen drawings of phalluses or heard the other women chat about them. Never did you think you’d be at a loss for words when staring at one. “Ha, you goin’ to say somethin’ or just stare at me? S’startin’ to make me nervous.” He lifts his head to finally meet your gaze with lust filled eyes. A large gulp works its way through your throat, all the while Sanemi watches with rapt attention. 

“Maybe I like watching you squirm.” His brows raise as he mulls over your words. He wraps his warm hand around your wrist, leading it to his groin. He stares into your eyes the whole time, studying your reaction. It’s suddenly gotten a lot harder to breathe as your fingertips brush against the burning skin of his cock. 

“Oh? You like that huh? Maybe I should give you a better look at it.” He guides your hand down his shaft, groaning when he forms your hand around his base. Sanemi shifts his hips, sliding his cock through your rounded fist. “Damn it… just keep going – just like that.” His brows draw together and your thighs clench together. Seeing Sanemi horny and losing himself to the feeling of your hand was going to be seared into your brain. It was so wet between your legs…so wet and empty.

Your heart is seemingly trying to crawl out of your throat, but you feel so high from pleasuring him. Confidence was starting to take over the initial nerves. “So tough all the time… but you’re completely at my mercy,” You pant out, feeling the heat rise to the tip of your scalp. It was surprising you didn’t spontaneously combust with the sight in front of you. 

“Mmmhm, as wonderful as that sounds,” He shuts his eyes, trying to regain his focus. “I’m goin’ shut that pretty mouth of yours up,” Before you can wonder what he means, he shows you by pushing you to your knees. “Open,” He commands, backing up to behold your flushed cheeks and obliging mouth. You were paradise on earth. His cock is aching without your touch so he covers his length with a free hand, pumping himself like a horny teenager before you. You reduced him to pure desires and he couldn’t decide if that would be for your betterment… or your demise. “Suck it.” 

He brushes his weeping tip across your lips, creating a work of art in the process. He could stare at this all day long. Then – with one languid movement – he’s inside your warm wet mouth. He tosses his head back, his muscles flexing with enough tension they could snap. A sense of pride shoots through you, but something inside your own brain short circuits when he moans out your name. Suddenly you’re gripping his hips like a mad woman, digging your nails into his skin as you bob your head down his length – stopping at his base to hold all of him in your mouth. His legs are twitching and the stifled moans above you just drive you to swirl your tongue around the underside of his cock, where a long vein trails up to the tip. You follow it with the tip of your tongue until you meet his slit. From all the information you’ve gathered, this – this – was the most sensitive part of a man. 

You’re not sure what compels you to dip your tongue into the leaking hole, dancing your tongue across it while working your hands across the parts not covered by your mouth. The saliva you’d left behind and whatever was coming out of his tip made the movements easy. There were noises filling the room – one’s you’d be hearing echo off these walls for eternity. The wet squelching mixes with Sanemi’s whimpering moans in your favorite melody. 

Sanemi’s hand twitches to the back of your head, wrapping your hair around his flushed hands. “E-enough,” He hisses, pulling you away by your hair. You glare up at him. It’s hard to not shove you back on his cock when you look like that.

Your lips are bruised, the corners red and splotchy. Drool drips from your mouth and there’s a look in your eyes that makes Sanemi hoist you to your feet. He wasn’t going to cum unless it was inside that sweet cunt of yours. He was going to press you into the mattress until you were with his child. Suddenly his mind is blank, the only thought on rotation being ‘fill her to the brim.’

He guides you into the bedroom where the mattresses are already rolled out. Had he been thinking about this as he set up the proposal? Was the night meant to lead to this very moment? Sanemi envelopes you in his arms, kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t you think s’unfair I’m the only one undressing?” His voice is so calm and low it goes straight from your ears to your core.

You drop your hands to the buttons on your uniform. “If you’re that eager then maybe you should help me out.” His gaze follows your hands, zeroing in on the sliver of your neck revealed. You peel back the layer of your haori, the blue fabric tumbling to the ground in a heap. Next is the top part of your uniform, slipping off the white undershirt as well. Your chest is almost bare in front of him, negating the cloth that winds around your chest. The rounds of your breasts only emphasize the heavy breaths falling from your mouth. Sanemi groans, biting into his lip. “What’s that? You were all talk just a moment ago.” You undo the clip.

Sanemi sucks in a breath, his gaze growing darker. “Describin’ your beauty takes time,” He whips his eyes up to meet yours. He cocks a grin, slowly dropping to your pebbled nipples. “As you know, m’not a man of pretty words,” He cups one of his massive hands under the heft of your chest. In an instant his lips plant a delectable kiss against the throbbing nub. The sensation rushes through your system, eliciting a pitiful moan to escape past your lips. His gaze flicks to you, watching with fire behind his expression. His lips curl into a smile against your breast. “Haa… shit, you’re really something else, huh?” A flush rushes from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. Sanemi trails wicked kisses to your jaw, stopping to visit your mouth. The corners of your mouth sting from pushing all of him in – but the pain only brings about more pleasure. Your eyes flutter shut as he grazes his teeth on your bottom lip. The grip on his shoulders tighten as you tremble with arousal. 

One muscular arm dips between your thighs, cupping your mound. He scoffs, quirking that damn brow of his. “Were you plannin’ on sharin’ how wet you are f’me, sweetheart?” He growls, bringing his hand to your lips – smearing your arousal across them. His brows narrow as you squeeze your thighs together, squirming desperately in front of him. “Ha, you need somethin’?”

You break, annoyed at the unbearable desire roaring through you. “Damn it Sanemi, stop teasing me – do something.” You huff, placing yourself in between the sleeping mats. You raise your legs and spread them wide for him. He throws his head back in a dark chuckle. 

Kneeling down beside you he runs his warm hands up your thighs. “Guessin’ all those lessons in patience from Gyomei didn’t exactly… pay off?” He snarks, brushing the bottom of your skirt out of the way. You roll your eyes, fed up with his attitude. 

“Everyone has their breaking point, Sanemi.” You grunt, turning your face away from him. He takes this as an opportunity to run his thumb along your slit. Your body straightens, a breathy moan blasting out of you. He was playing dirty.

You whisk your burning gaze back to him, still wearing the frustrated expression. “Mmm, don’t worry pretty girl, I’m about to show you yours.” He dips his head between your thighs, lapping at the plush skin where your stockings dug in. You can feel his smile. “You know, Iguro was right.” He hums, kissing circles on your inner thigh while his thumb massages the other. You couldn’t focus on what he was musing about – too focused on the excitement of having this man, whole. “Givin’ stockings to a girl was great advice.” He captures the fabric between his teeth, leisurely taking it off your leg. “Now m’constantly between your legs.” 

Why did he say these things? Now whenever you pull your stockings on he’s all you’re going to be thinking about. Not that he wasn’t already constantly on your mind. “You’re so unfair,” You pout, wishing there was something you could tease him about – but as you gaze over your bare chest the next breath catches in your throat. 

Sanemi has your leg outstretched against his chest, tossing your stockings to the side. They flutter through the air like they were glad he touched them. Lucky bitches. He eyes you as he kisses your ankle, raking his teeth against the tendons. He swoops his hand under your calf, heaving your left leg over his shoulder. “The more I hear you complain the more I want to fuck you until that pretty voice can’t talk anymore.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, sweeping his tongue against your folds. 

A startled whimper careens from within you. His tongue laps up your sex, finding its way to your entrance. You were panting now, gripping the sheets like your life depending on it. If you let go you might float up to the gods. “F-fuck,” you moan, squirming under his minstrations. This only drives his actions to a higher level as he moves his fingers to enter your weeping cunt. “Ahh, oh–” Your body is tensing around his finger and before you get used to one of his digits working in and out of you he adds another. You squeeze your thighs around his head as he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sanemi, right there,” you call out, your voice pitched higher than usual. The tandem of his tongue and fingers had your thighs trembling with the growing high of your impending orgasm. 

His head squirms free from the apex of your thighs. “S’my girl, I want your cum on my tongue,” He commands breathily. Without instruction you spread your legs for him, his pace heightening your senses as he carries you over the edge. Throaty moans and whimpers shake past your lips as you clench down. 

Sanemi slips his fingers out of you, panting as he finds your eyes. He reaches his hand to your mouth, sliding the tips of his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. “S’pretty when you cum,” He hums watching you take his fingers inside your mouth. “Makes me wanna devour you,” He tilts his head following your gaze – straight to his neglected cock. “Heh, I have three guesses as to what you want from me and the first two don’t count.” He takes his fingers back, popping them into his own mouth. “A good night’s rest?” He inquires. You shake your head. “Maybe a cute little dog?” You shake your head again. He smirks. “Ahh, that’s right. You have to be overworked to fall asleep. My girl has to be brought to the brink of death before she’s satisfied. Isn’t that right?” He coos, positioning himself closer to your core. You nod eagerly, words apparently forgotten. 

He curls his hands around your calves, yanking you closer to him and wrapping your legs around his hips. “Then who am I to deny my darling?” You wait with bated breath as he lines the head of his cock against your entrance. A sharp breath fills your lungs as he pushes gently into your wet walls, clenching around him. “S’tight.” He mutters as his hips shift forward. He holds your hips still as he burrows deeper. There’s a pinching sensation as your cunt welcomes him. “Sorry, s’sorry, doin’ s’good.” He whispers, but your pain gradually flares into an overwhelming pleasure. 

His slow methodical movements turn ravenous as he shoves his length into your greedy pussy. “S’takin’ all of me, such a good girl,” He pants, thrusting with desperation – chasing his own orgasm but focusing on the spot that makes you scream his name. “S’it,” He’s driving deeper and deeper, the slapping noise of skin against skin filling the room. He’s whining about how heavenly you are, promising to stay inside of you forever. 

You throw your head back against the pillow. “Cum for me, s’my girl, just like that.” He praises, studying the way your body shakes with burning pleasure. His encouragement floods you, your second orgasm of the night rushing through you with tingling stars. Your cunt cinches around him, eliciting a whiny moan from his lips. 

He pounds into you relentlessly, spewing apologetic moans your way. Soon enough his hot cum fills your pussy in a beautiful mess. You feel so full, it’s the kind of pressure you enjoy. He’s taken aback by how much he likes seeing your pussy stuffed with his cum. He fucks it into you, begging you to mother his children. The oozing climax slips past the seal of Sanemi’s cock, trickling down your thighs. The sensation tickles and if you had any part of your mind right now you’d be worried about the sheets. Tears roll down your face, half from happiness, half from being dicked down. He immediately catches your tears, eyes widening. “Are you okay?” He exclaims, bending to check on you. You nod your head, smiling. He blows out a breath. “Gosh, you had me worried…” He trails off, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “You should only cry when you’re with me ‘kay? So I can be there to wipe your tears.” There’s a moment where you both stare at each other, dumb smiles on your faces. He kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. “I love you, petal. I’m never going to leave you.” He promises. 

After washing up together you lay in his arms. The night was filled with the promise of eternal love. One that wouldn’t die so easily. Once you fall asleep, the golden band on your ring finger, Sanemi slips out of your home. Before he’s completely out of the door he halts near a table – quickly scrawling the happy news of your engagement to the only other person he cherished; his little brother. He hands the note to Sorai, that way Genya was bound to hear the news the quickest. He’s the happiest he’s ever been. He wants to shout from the rooftops, but he’s on a mission to find fresh flowers for his beloved wife – well soon to be wife. He rounds his mansion, one that wouldn’t be complete without you inside of it, heading for the dirt road that leads to a small patch of kikus. He gathers a couple of the delicate flowers within his hands, stopping under the moonlight to appreciate their beauty. He pulls a line of twine from his pocket, wrapping them together. 

But he never makes it back.

With a sore throat you groan as the morning sun bleeds into your room. It appears you’d slept through most of the morning. You reach out to pat the area next to you, expecting to find the sturdy frame of the man who commanded you not to wash out his cum. A bashful grin finds its way onto your face as you remember the previous hours. Your hand doesn’t bump into anything except fabric. Where had he gone? You planned to go see Master first thing in the morning together. You sit up, clutching the sheet to your body – suddenly too cold. “S-Sanemi?” You call out, your voice hoarse.

There’s no reply, in fact the house has never been this hauntingly quiet before. An ache coils around your heart. Where was your love? You take a moment to calm your breathing, trying to think of possibilities other than he’d left you. He’d left you and was never coming back. Last night was just so he could get his fill and when he walked through the doors of his house, he wouldn’t want you to still be there. A sick warmth spreads thorns inside your stomach. 

It takes you a few minutes to get ready, hissing as your back aches with strained muscles. Your pussy throbs around nothing, begging to be stuffed again and again. You’d have to have a word with her about that later, especially if your betrothed was thinking about breaking off the engagement. He wouldn’t do that…right? 

Outside the morning is a flurry of crows and a light breeze. You squint into the sunlight, concern breaking through your faux calmness. Why were there so many crows circling the mansion? “Yn,” You jump at the sound of your name, bringing your gaze downward to the snake Hashira. Your face scrunches into sorrow as your lips quiver. His eyes are all you need to see before you rush into his arms, breaking down. Obanai allows you to cling onto him, brushing a hand down your back in what comfort he could muster. His mind was otherwise occupied. He couldn’t bear listening to your sobs for much longer. Damn it Sanemi, where the hell were you? That’s when the snake Hashira catches the glimmer of a golden band around your finger. His eyes darken. 

“Wh-what am I supposed to do?” You whimper, nestled into the crook of Obanai’s neck. He releases a sigh, moving his hands to your shoulders. He moves you so that you’re looking into his eyes. He tries to hide the worry, but you’d grown up being able to read the emotions of eyes. Even in your state, it was clear – something was wrong. 

He shuts his eyes, hissing out a breath. When he opens his eyes he’s not looking at you. “We’re not sure. Sanemi made a big fuss yesterday about introducing his wife to everyone so we were all supposed to meet at Master’s estate. We waited all morning…” He trails off, turning his gaze to the sky where the afternoon sun was being covered by clouds. “He’s missing.”

Those words echoed in your head for the next two weeks. You sat in the wind manor, blank. It was like someone had pushed the reset button on you. Mitsuri tried to get you to eat, visiting you every meal time with a delicious smelling plate of food. Your stomach was tied in knots so you were unable to eat much of it. Shinobu had visited you too, checking your vitals and making sure you at least sat outside for an hour. Everyone was trying to help, some with the search party, others with looking after you. 

It was pitiful, the way you had to be taken care of every day because you couldn’t even muster moving your eyes. If you did, anything you’d see would remind you of the aching loss blooming in your body. There were times you sat and cried, staring at a wall. 

Love had splintered into pieces of the past. You were too numb to feel anything. 

A month passes and the one feeling that surfaces is resentment – to yourself. What a waste of space. You were a Hashira, apparently inept at doing her job. You let your grief take over your body instead of assisting the rest of the corps who were working tirelessly to find…Sanemi. His name. It had repeated over and over in your head. It dances through your gray matter, sinking into your brain. Pumped through your veins until he consumed all of you.

The dark early morning sky casts a glowing hue through your window. In a way the darkness was comforting because all the sun did was illuminate that you were alone. 

Get up. Find him. You stumble into a standing position, bracing yourself on the wall next to you. A rushing nausea fills your stomach. Your eyes widen as you rush outside, vomiting into the gravel. You fall to your hands and knees on the deck as the clamminess sticks to your body. A shudder courses through you as the little food you’d eaten leaves your body. Then it’s just dry heaving, tears streaming down your face as the acid stings your throat. 

You hold your stomach, hoping the pain is finally over. The tears pushed out of your body from vomiting continue, but now from the pain of loss. Sanemi would’ve taken care of you. He’d know what to do in moments like these. You bring your head to the sky, sobbing through the night. 

Your throat aches as you wake up with a start, nausea swimming around again. You curse as you scramble outside to the very same spot you’d visited earlier this morning. Once the ordeal is over, you sit there perplexed. You collect yourself, stepping into the gravel. Your body is shivering as you start walking towards Butterfly mansion. 

Shinobu perks up when you walk through her door. “Yn?” She tilts her head, scanning your body with concern. “What’s wrong?” As if she wasn’t going to inspect you until she found out. You push a weak grin onto your lips. 

A limp arm points to your stomach. “Vomit. I keep throwing up.” Her eyes widen, something crossing through them. You were so tired and there was an awful cramp twisting your guts into a mess. 

“Okay, come lay down here.” She motions for you to lay down on a cot next to her. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” She starts, peeking at you for confirmation. You nod your head, collapsing back onto the bed. She gulps, pulling up a stool next to you. “Do you usually get sick in the morning?” You nod. This elicits a shaky breath to leave her mouth. “Are you eating well? What about sleep?” You shake your head, a fucked up grin lining your lips. 

“What’s the point in any of that?” You laugh, turning your head away from her. You couldn’t stand having her look at you with such pity. She reaches out her hand, grasping your arm gently. 

“Yn, when’s the last time you had your monthly bleed?” She asks with such a soft voice you turn back to her, brows drawn together. What did that have to do with anything? Though, now that you’re thinking about it…

“I haven’t had one since earlier last month.” You whisper. Shinobu’s face falls, a curse under her breath. She sucks in that same breath before standing from her stool. “What is it?” Your mind felt fuzzy, almost clouded. 

She clasps her hands together, facing the empty room. “Yn… I think you’re pregnant…” She whips her gaze back to you. “With Sanemi’s baby.”

The color drains from your face and your pulse quickens. No. No it couldn’t be. From one time? Was that even possible? A violent shake jolts through you as you start to wail. “How could you!? How could you leave me here!?” You cover your face with the back of your arm as you continue to cry, although it was closer to the yowl of a cat. 

A baby. His baby. Your baby. 

What a joyous occasion. 

3 months later

You glance around the home you’d shared with the love of your life. Now, there was no life in this mansion. The walls had watched you cry yourself to sleep every night, it was probably time you gave them a break. “Don’t worry Miss Yn, I’ll make sure to clean it up just in case.” Tanjiro, a spitfire swordsman exclaims. You muster a sorrowful smile as you pat his head. You hope he never experiences loss like you have. 

Though you’re pretty sure someone told you his whole family had been murdered except his kid sister, who was now a demon. Okay, maybe he had it worse than you did, but the smile on his lips was a testament to how strong willed he was. A pang of pride shoots through you. “Thank you, Tanjiro.” You walk outside, turning to glance at the structure one last time, holding your growing stomach. “Say goodbye little one.” You whisper. Goodbye my love. It’s almost like you can see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, waving goodbye to you. 

Ubuyashiki instructed Giyu and Obanai to accompany you to a small village east of the corps. There was a small house waiting for you to quietly have your babies and raise them away from the dangerous headquarters. The journey was long, about a week away. 

When your small group finally stepped into the village there was a welcome party. Swordsmith village; a place only Hashira knew the way to. Usually Kakushi would have to exchange visitors on their backs to keep the location secretive. 

They welcome you with open arms, showing you to the small house where you’d be staying. “Go ahead, I’m sure you’ll want to rest.” Giyu motions for you to go inside, a slight smile on his lips. You’re worried, why would he be smiling? With a tentative hand you push open the door. There’s a figure in the middle of the room, long spiky hair falling down their shoulders. You yelp at the sight, falling back into Obanai’s chest. 

“Don’t just stand there Shinazugawa, greet your sister.” He chastises gruffly from behind you. The last name sends chills down your back as it finally clicks. 

Genya Shinazugawa turns on his heel, an all too familiar face greeting you. The breath in your lungs whoosh out. “Hey there Yn.” He bows his head, jolting when he sees the tears welling in your eyes. It’s involuntary when you rush into his arms. He tentatively holds you before tightening his grip. “S’gonna be okay. They’ll find ‘em.” He whispers against your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay.” He repeats himself, almost like he was trying to comfort himself as well. You hold each other for what feels like hours, crying with each other and spending the night talking about Sanemi. For the first time since 4 months ago you feel a lightness in your chest. 

Giyu and Obanai are staying in the inn not to far from your house, patrolling the perimeter of the village before turning in for the night. There’s a room on either side of the house, before coming together in a platform kitchen area and dirt entry way. Genya was going to stay with you for the duration of your pregnancy. Giyu and Obanai would always be close by as well. It was kind of like a little family. Giyu cooks, Obanai patrols, and Genya takes care of you. The thought makes you giggle to yourself, the sound of your laughter shocking you into silence. You spread your hand over the right side of the bed you lay in. 

“You look gorgeous in the moonlight, did I ever tell you that?” You turn your head, met with the grinning face of your lover. The weight of the whole world lifts from your shoulders as you peer into his lilac eyes. 

You shake your head. “No, I think you should tell me again.” You whisper, butting your head against his. He kisses your nose, rubbing the side of your head. 

“You’re my entire world. My gorgeous, beautiful, seductive world.”

Mornings come too soon, waking you from the enchanting dreams of having Sanemi next to you. It’s been your mission to walk through the town every morning to distract you from hopeless thoughts. “Miss Yn! Miss Yn! When’s the baby coming again!?” A little girl named Momo hops around you excitedly. Her parents were farmers and she had 5 older siblings. Her hyottoko mask slips down and before it can fall she grasps the rosy cheeks with her little hands. You laugh lightly. 

“Your mother will be upset if you continue bouncing around like a rabbit.” You ruffle her hair with the ease of attachment. It was true, this little girl had made her way into your aching chest, easing some of the pain. Genya trots up next to you, holding out a shiny rock. You cock your head curiously. 

He rounds in front of you, halting the movement of both you and Momo. He places the shiny rock in Momo’s hands. “Here, for you m’lady.” He squats down to show her the crystalized pattern on the back of the stone. Momo gasps when she realizes how pretty the rock is. 

She bounces up and down again, whooping about how Genya was the best big brother ever. He laughs but you can see the pain behind his eyes. Momo runs in circles around your legs, gripping her rock like it was the most precious thing in the world. “I think you just made a best friend.” You tease and Genya’s face spreads into a knowing grin. 

His gaze flows down to your rounded tummy. “Just practicin’. I want to make him proud.” His words are like the air sucked from your lungs. 

You peek at your stomach, running a hand over the bump. “You already have,” you mutter, trying to think happy thoughts as the memory of this morning’s dream tries to take over. “Momo, how about you take big brother Genya to the hot springs?” You suggest to the wide-eyed girl. 

Genya doesn’t have time to react before she yanks him toward the stone stairs. You smile watching them leave. It was taking time, but you were starting to heal. 

The walk to the gate doesn’t take a lot of time, but chatting with curious villagers makes it late afternoon by the time you continue your walk along the forest line. The kakumaki around your shoulders shifts as you brace against a chilling winter breeze. The air was crisp, but it reminded you of the winters spent under Sanemi’s arm, snuggled together by the fireplace. 

Today was his birthday and no matter how much love you were surrounded with, you just wanted to be alone. To think about him and wish him a happy birthday.

Snow lines the pathway, pushed against the short stone wall that extended for miles on either side. A sparrow flies above your head as you continue, humming a traditional song. You adored your neighbors, but the village became stuffy with all the fluttering around you. You’re sure some of the villager girls were happy there were two male Hashira staying close by. Maybe if Giyu got laid he’d learn how to smile – or not look like a psychopath while doing so. 

A grin lines your lips thinking about the friends whom you cherished so much. The air in front of you puffs out, warmth meeting the cold. Honestly, winter was your favorite season. You might be slightly partial due to your breathing style, but there was just something about peering over a field powdered in a white blanket. Trees were gray and bare, but with snow they became royalty swaying across a ballroom. There was one word for it – majestic. “Happy Birthday Emi.”

You’re about to brush some snow off the wall and perch against it when you hear a twig snap. A line snaps your head in the direction of the sound. It could very well be an animal, but they learned to avoid making noise in the winter in case a predator was around. Against every fiber of your being you call out, “Hello?” 

After a few beats of silence your heart starts to calm down. Okay, so maybe you were going crazy. Wouldn’t be news to you. “Petal,” The chill that runs down your spine paralyzes you. The boots you wore were stuck to the dirt. It was such an unhuman noise. Like a growl mixed with choking. There’s nothing but the vast white staring back at you. That doesn’t stop you from rushing back toward the village, clutching the furs over your shoulders. That night Sanemi doesn’t appear in your dreams. 

When you wake up, fresh snow has fallen over the village. Obania storms into your home, meeting your gaze with panicked eyes. “Thank the Gods,” He hisses, Giyu clamoring in behind him. Curiosity pierces your skin. 

“What’s going on?” You interrogate. Giyu glances at the snake Hashira, his gaze avoiding you naturally. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, staring intently out your window. “There’s been an attack. One of the villagers was killed last night.” His deep azure stare slides to meet yours. “By a demon.”

4 months later

Since then, multiple attacks have showered the swordsmith village with blood. “Miss Yn, is the baby going to be okay?” Momo lays on the ground of your kitchen, kicking her feet behind her. You smile as you set a plate full of ohagi in front of her. “Gee thanks!” She squeals. “Ma never lets me have these!” Great, her mom was probably going to give you a stern talking to.

You ease yourself down on the edge of the platform next to Momo. “From how strong they are, I think they could beat up even Mister Obanai.” You chuckle, observing Momo’s eyes widen with wonder, her hyottoko mask forgotten on the ground. She jumps up excitedly and punches the air. 

“Yeah! The baby can fight off the demon that killed my dad!” You wince as she brings up the first killing of the demon that had been eluding two Hashira. Three if you count yourself – which you didn’t. You pat Momo’s back, settling her down. 

She leans into you, affectionately kissing your temple. “Would you like to feel the baby kick?” You offer, chuckling as Momo nearly pounces on your large baby bump. “Careful now,” You laugh. Momo’s tiny hands press against your stomach, yelping when it jolts from the baby’s movement. 

“Feels like you have an army in there…” She mutters, furrowing her brows. “You sure there’s only one baby?” You raise your brows with a comical laugh. The village healer, Momo’s grandmother, must’ve been telling her about pregnancies. 

You place your hand over hers. “I’m pretty sure,” At least you hope so. You barely knew what to do with one baby, let alone more. “Why don’t you get tucked in, I’m sure your mother will be home soon.” After the tragic death of her husband Momo’s mother had moved in with you after growing close due to Momo’s obsession with your baby and helping with her mother’s check ups. Having the house full of noise was a better distraction than seeing Genya’s face in the morning and feeling a thrill of excitement only to wake up more and feel the drop of sorrow again. It wasn’t fair to Genya and it was starting to give you a complex. 

Genya was in the other room so it would be fine if you slipped out for a while right? The early spring night air greets you like it's been waiting. A loud crash breaks the peaceful night air. You’re immediately on guard, but it drops when Momo appears in front of you holding your nichirin daggers. “I’m gonna be a Hashira like you some day!” She yells before bolting into the forest. A part of you is honored, but then reality comes crashing down your body. 

“Wait! Momo!” You screech, reaching out for her small body. She shouldn’t be out here! You try to move as fast as you can toward where she ran, but progress is slow. Your ankles are swollen and the pressure on your stomach and back make you want to roll over and die. “Momo!” You call, panic settling into your bones. “Momo come back!” 

You hear rustling and your heart sores thinking she’s found her way back to you, but a rabbit bounces forth from the foliage. 

A throat wrenching scream startles birds from their slumber. Your skin prickles as it continues. Then – as if sent by hell itself – Momo’s voice calls out your name before the noise goes silent. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly. No, no, no, no, no. You continue to repeat that word to yourself as you brush past branches, thorns lashing out to your skin. You’re bleeding, but you don’t care. Nothing is as important as getting to Momo.

Blood. The forest ground is covered in it. Hunched over a small figure is what you can only assume is a demon. Your training tells you as much, but the fact it’s still crunching on Momo’s leg is telling enough. 

Your gut twists as you take in the scene before you. Momo had valiantly stabbed the monster with one of your daggers in the thigh. Her little hand was reaching out toward you, her glazed eyes staring into yours. Too late. You feel sick. Your body is woozy, you feel like liquid as you stumble forward. Kill it. Bile rises to your throat, you have to swallow the burning sensation down. Fucking kill it. Wet slurping noises make your nose scrunch up with disgust. You were going to throw up. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the other dagger, somehow near your feet. You’re a Hashira. Your muscles tense, yelling at your body to prolong the sobs you could feel building behind your facade. 

The wind blows the smell of blood and demon toward you. Stalling your movements. Oh no, you were going to vomit. Moonlight casts a glowing light toward Momo’s corpse. Fuck, you were going to avenge her. You’re panting, body unmoving. That is until you catch the black kanji on the back of the demon. Satsu – to kill. Your body is swaying with how hard you’re breathing. “S-Sanemi?” You weep out, collapsing to your knees. Twigs and sharp pebbles dig into your skin, but the radiating shakes and adrenaline keeps you from feeling it. 

Sure enough, the demon turns its body. Four horns sprout from his silver hair. The two front ones were taller than the two back ones. The tips were a deep maroon, bleeding into a soft purple. The same effect was present in the tips of his hair. His eyes reflect the moonlight – the glowing red color causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth. His uniform was across his body, revealing the chest you’d fallen asleep on. Green swirling marks snake around his chest and biceps. The bottom of his uniform was tucked into a pair of breeches, hanging low on his hips. Gone were his scars, gone was his life, gone was the man you loved. 

8 months ago

“Petal.” He sneers and the noise fills you with dread. He’d been with you this whole time. 

Somewhere out there was my wife and no matter what – I was going to make it back to her. The last thing I remember is sensing something near me while I was gathering flowers for her to smile at in the morning. There was a fight, I tried my best; not for me, but for her. My life was nothing until she molded me into something great. Here I was, failing her yet again. 

I thrash around, feeling rope strangling my wrists. Somehow I’d been tied to a damn chair. Trained Hashira and my end was going to come from a chair. I click my tongue, what are a few more scars? I tense my muscles and attempt to break free from restraints. 

An overwhelming presence washes over me as my failure resides in my heart. “Ah, you’re awake.” That voice. My jaw clicks with fury. If I just had my sword he’d be dead on the ground. I needed to find a way to escape. 

“Show your face, coward.” I hiss out, squinting my eyes as the apparent bag over my head is ripped off. Before me is none other than the Demon king, Muzan Kibutsuji. His crimson eyes light up with delight as I face him with blood lust. 

His raven hair is loose around his face, falling forward as he leans toward me. “Watch your tongue Shinazugawa or I might have to cut it out.” He chastises and I surge forward in the chair. I instantly regret thinking I had any chance of escaping because the wooden let down starts to fall forward – with me in it. Muzan catches the back of the chair, his scent filling my nostrils. “Careful, we wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He sneers, settling the chair back on all four legs roughly. My blood boils with a blinding white rage. 

Hurt? Wasn’t that why he captured me? To kill me? He must notice my questioning face because he straightens his waistcoat, a lecherous grin lifting his lips to expose how much of a monster he really was. “The other Hashira are going to kill you.” I spit out, the rage she had quelled in me fuming up to the top of my head. 

Muzan laughs, raising his brows in amusement. “I’m sure they will.” He watches me out of the corner of his eye as he sinks his teeth into his own wrist. What the actual fuck? I turn away in disgust, bile rising to the back of my throat. Memories, they were flooding back to my mind. Surfacing the murky water I tried to submerge them in all those years ago, for her. His fingers grip my chin, yanking me to look at him. He’s towering over me and every cell inside of me wants to reach out and kill him. He dangles his wounded wrist above my mouth, forcing me to lift my head upward. My muscles are twitching as I twist my head away. A growling hiss echoes around the room as Muzan viciously positions me forward again. I want to cry. I want to whimper. I can’t. Not if I ever want to see her again. 

“Fuck. You.” I sneer through squished cheeks. The demon in front of me slams his wrist down, lining it up with my half parted lips. 

“You will drink orrr,” His eyes are crazy, yearning for violence. “I’ll have to go kill that pretty wife of yours.” 

His blood seeps down my throat, a tickling sensation because I refuse to swallow it. It’s tangy, metallic, and awful. How dare it mix with the taste of her. “Smart choice.” The first drop reaches my gut and the urge to throw up almost overtakes me. “When I return, I hope you’ll be…” He shoves my chin away, causing my body to fall over on the ground. I hit the stone floor with a loud clack and the wind whooshes out of my mouth. My skin feels like it’s crawling with parasites. “Hungry.” He laughs before leaving me in the cold room. 

 A few months later

They’ve tied me down, mocked me, tortured me – and yet I still carry on. It’s her voice that keeps me sane as they force rotten flesh down my throat. I’m turning into something dangerous – vile. A demon. An experiment. A mixed breed between a demon and a slowly dwindling human consciousness. 

My love, my warmth, my beautiful petal. I’m fading. I wish I could kiss you one more time. A sick smile works its way onto my lips. Propose to you a million times over, wrapping your wedding vows around my neck. I wouldn’t last much longer – I was too weak in the end. 

Muzan visited me often, injecting me with concoctions he’d made in the lab. I’d been tamed by the damn upper moons. I wasn’t a demon, but I sure as hell wasn’t human any more either. I desperately clung to the vision of her in my mind, but her eyes – the ones I could stare into for eons – were slowly slipping away. 

I squeeze my eyes shut. At least I could still envision her sweet smile. If I couldn’t be her husband… I’d have to be her hell.

A couple weeks later

Who knew horns would get in the way? It almost makes me feel sorry, but I couldn’t really feel anything. I worm my way through the trees, grinning to myself that I’d become so strong even Kokushibo had gotten out of my way. After all, I was the only one that could complete this mission; eradicate the swordsmith village.

I suddenly stop, the wind carrying a familiar – nauseating – scent toward me. My mouth feels dry, but my chest tightens as if the heart that was once there yearns to flutter. I pull the nood further over my head, hiding from the sunlight beaming through the trees. The snow made everything blinding, but I could still see. I could still see you.

I swallow, freezing in my advance. What were you doing here? I feel sick and…hungry. My nose curls in a snarl as I take a step forward. In my mindless draw toward you I make a noise that makes you twirl around. 

My breath catches in my throat, a thrumming sensation building in my chest. “Hello?” You call out. 

Your voice. It washes over me in a blanket of what I had lost. In a blanket of what I still yearned for. I bring my forearm to my mouth, biting down so I don’t call back to you. Today was my birthday and the heavens put you before me. So I call out in that name I always did.

4 months later

I’d been watching you. I couldn’t leave your side – or at least that’s what I told myself. I sought after your company from miles away. I watched as Obanai hunted for me, his face ragged with lack of sleep. I boiled with jealousy as I saw you laugh with that bastard Giyu. Then in an unexpected twist, my brother cared for you. There was a little girl as well – you loved her. 

I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I loved you. I love you. Hunger. Hungry. I slip into the shadows. A while later I hear yelling. Your voice. I’d become addicted to the sound of it. Even in this state. 

“Wait Momo!” You sound worried. I grin to myself. I always knew you so well. I could tell by the slightest inflection in your voice what you were feeling. 

“You killed papa,” A tiny voice huffs. I turn, taking in the panting sight of the little girl – Momo. She’s dragging your nichirin daggers behind her tiny body. I killed her papa? Yeah… I guess I did. I feel a pang of what a human might call guilt, but it's swallowed by the sudden urge to slay this small child. My mind goes blank as the largely demon part of me pushes what little human thoughts I had left down…down…down.

I can taste blood. It’s a glorious snap of bones. I crave the syrupy sweetness of innocence. My body shifts, feeling something sticking out of my thigh. One of your daggers the girl had stabbed me with while she screamed your name. Her blood drips down my jaw now. That sickening smell assaults my nose again and before I have time to react I hear a thump against the ground. 

I know it’s you. I can smell you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I’m so hungry. I turn my gaze away from the corpse in front of me. You’ve fallen to your knees, sobs choking your next breath. My arm twitches. “S-Sanemi?” You weep out and my name has never sounded so melodic. I could kiss you. You were here. For me.

Your scent fills my head, but for whatever reason I can smell my own scent as well… my human scent. My gaze drops to your stomach where a very obvious bump rounds your yukata. How had I not picked up on this yet? You were pregnant? With whose… then it dawns on me. 

Mine. You were pregnant with my offspring. A twinge of pride courses through my veins. I can feel three souls interlocked. Twins aye? I bring my gaze back to your trembling one. A boy and a girl. I want to ask you what names you have picked out. 

A low rumble echoes out of my chest as I move toward you. I want to wipe away your tears. I want to be your husband… “Petal.” I sneer, reaching toward your cheek to collect the steady stream of tears. Blood mixes with your sorrow. You slap my hand away, face morphing into anger. You scramble away from me. 

Yes, I wanted to be your husband…but I was your monster.

Present time {yn POV} 

Fate is a cruel mistress to have my body warm with recognition. My husband…my monster. What happened to him? Your eyes fall to Momo’s crumbled body again and the wash of grief carries you to your feet, scrambling away from the scene. “Petal, my love?” 

Your body recoils at the swallowed sound of his words. The fangs protruding from his mouth mumble his speech. “Get away from me.” You pant. His head tilts. “Get away from me!” You scream. There’s a collective breeze that blasts past you as Obanai appears next to you, Giyu not too far behind him. You feel like sobbing all over again. 

Obanai’s face is contorted in confusion and his arms shake with unbridled anger. “Sanemi?” He calls out. Giyu’s head whips to stare at the demon before all three of you. 

Sanemi scoffs, standing up from his position on the ground. “Was I so easy to replace?” He coos maliciously. “You spread your legs for every Hashira?” He chuckles, moving behind Momo’s body. Obanai and Giyu’s face fall as they realize what’s going on. 

HIs words hurt, but at this point you were too numb to even care what venom he’d spew at you. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Giyu commands, drawing his katana. Sanemi clicks his tongue, shaking his head. 

“Don’t you talk to her.” He growls, his eyes flashing a deeper crimson. “She’s mine.” 

“Yn! Get behind me!” Genya yells, appearing next to you. No, no, no, not Genya. This kept getting worse and worse. His eyes tremble as he stares at his big brother. A monster. 

Your back is pushed against a tree as Sanemi draws his own katana, beckoning the three men around him to attack. “Don’t you know it’s not okay to touch what isn’t yours?” He taunts. Obanai is the first to make a move. Swinging a gust of purple swirls toward the old wind Hashira. He deflects it was a sickening familiar green strike, twisting in the air like he’d taught you. Giyu rushes in, surging forward with his own water breathing style. 

It’s hard to make out what’s happening as the woods erupt in blue, green, and purple. Kaburamaru slicing away at Sanemi’s arms while Giyu cleanly attacked his abdomen. The dagger that was in his thigh slips away, clanging to the ground near Genya. 

He glances at you, his eyes easing into a sad smile as he picks up the weapon. “Genya…no.” You whisper, but he’s already gotten up. He turns on his heel, saluting you proudly before driving the dagger deep into his brother’s chest, pinning him to a tree. You gasp, seeing blood splurt out of Sanemi’s mouth. 

Genya and Obanai nod at each other. Together they intertwine their breathing, aiming for Sanemi’s demonic neck. Before they can make it, Sanemi uses his own breathing to send Genya flying against one of the trees next to you. “Oops,” He hums, turning his attention to the two Hashira still attacking. 

A scream builds in your throat, but nothing comes out. With trembling legs you rush toward when Genya’s bloodied body lays on the forest floor. “G-Genya.” You sob, collecting his bleeding head in your lap. His eyes are still smiling as he peers up at you. “No, no, no, no please. I can’t lose you too.” Your tears plip on his cheeks, mixing with the grim and plasma on his face. His hand limply finds yours. 

“You,” He coughs up blood, spitting it on the ground next to you. “Won’t.” He wheezes, squeezing your hand. Your face crumples into his hair, breathing in his comforting scent. 

You wouldn't lose the other one this easily. You couldn’t let another Shinazugawa die. You glance up, seeing Obanai and Giyu wearing thin as they war against the much stronger wind Hashira. You were useless and your soul felt like it was wilting. 

You had to do something. Something. Anything. “Sanemi.” You say, but the name is barely above a whisper. All the memories of what you had lost and everything you’d gained build enough pressure in your chest. “SANEMI!” 

Your scream gains his attention just long enough for Giyu and Obanai get him against a tree again. Obanai flipping as he sends his blade toward Sanemi’s throat. You watch in horror as a single tear falls from Sanemi’s eye. You swear he mouths I love you before his head disconnects in a straining last few moments. The kiss of sunrise blinks through the tops of the trees and it’s over. Everything is over. 

A month later

“I still can’t believe you didn’t name one after me.” Genya huffs, groaning as he shifts in his cot. You grin, smiling down at the bundle of innocence in your arms. Shinobu treds next to you, gazing down at the baby in her arms as well. 

A glaze of warmth is over her eyes. “I still can’t believe you came back…” She trails off, patting the cheek of your son with the pad of her pointer finger. You lean your head on her side, smiling up at her. 

“But I’m glad I did. There’s no better place to raise them than here.” You say, the feeling in your chest blossoming when Obanai and Giyu walk through the door. “Hey guys!” You greet, rising from your chair. Obanai stays near the doorway, but Giyu opens his arms as he walks toward you, taking your little girl out of your arms. “Is everyone on the way?” You ask, eyeing Obanai. He nods curtly, his face lighting up every so slightly when Shinobu shows him your son. 

You help Genya to his feet, guiding him the short distance to headquarters. The other three follow behind you, chatting and cooing with the babies. “Do you think you’re going to be alright?” Genya mutters, looking at you with concern lining his face. You nod your head, a sad smile lifting your lips. 

“I will be now.” The April spring wind blows a lovely flowering scent toward your group. You bask in the sunlight as you walk the rest of the path. “Hey guys, could you give me a minute?” You suddenly ask, an overwhelming feeling calling out to you. 

Shinobu gives you a worried look but then nods slowly. “We’ll meet you there, okay?” She says and within a moment the group has disappeared around the estate house. You turn on your heel toward the wisteria tree, still standing sturdily in the back garden. 

A deep breath brings the smell of blossoms through your body. “Jinya looks just like you and Momo has your attitude.” You laugh, gazing up at the hanging petals. “I miss you Sanemi.” You whisper. A gust of wind carries a few dancing petals toward you and your heart warms. “I love you so much.”

I love you too, petal.

Camp Maple | Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, kissing, friends to grudge to friends to sassy to lovers? childhood trauma, masturbation (fem and male), tad bit of angst, unprotected sex, cream pie, more to come? Honestly the ending could do with a rewrite but I'm too lazy for that right now.

word count: 17.5k

a/n: writers block sucks so I'm sorry if the end is trash. I wanted to get this out before school started up again. Unedited.

It’s fucking summer again. That meant working for your mother’s sleepaway camp. Maple Woods was a fun enough place to work when your mother wasn’t visiting, but if you had to work with that asshole again you highly doubt this would be the best summer ever that your mother promised you. At least last year he wasn’t scheduled to be a leader with you.

The main office is where you would grab your schedule and overall camp theme for this summer. It’s also where you could check what group you were head of. Luckily, the office building was right off the parking lot. The mess hall was a few yards down a worn rock pathway from the old brick building you were heading into. 

The yellow screen door swings open with a screech, and you’re met with the steady whir of box fans pointed at the one lady you enjoyed seeing every year. Her straight blonde hair flutters in the heavy breeze as she looks up from her monitor. Once her caramel brown eyes settle on you, a sugary sweet smile overtakes her features. “YN!” She exclaims, standing from behind the counter. “I’m so glad you decided to come back, sweetie.” She extends her arms, walking out toward you. This is your aunt, Yena. She practically helped raise you when your mother would drop you off. Your childhood home was a 10 minute drive away, and where you lived now was around 15 minutes, depending on how long you procrastinated in traffic in an attempt to prolong accidentally running into your mother. Yena made sure your group of friends had snacks and unlimited access to her office. She was there when you had your first period. In other words, Yena was like a mother to you, at least more than your actual biological one. 

You embrace each other, and the overwhelming smell of cinnamon hits your nose like a tidal wave. It was like home in a hug. “Like I had a choice.” You mumble but laugh with her after a beat. This felt nice, but you needed to settle in before the rest of the counselors flooded in and started the pre-camp party. “Ah, do you happen to know which cabin group I’ll be in charge of?” You inquire, holding her back from you. 

Her brows crease with thought, and then she looks excited, holding up a finger to tap your nose. “Ah my little honeysuckle, you are co-leading the caterpillars.” She hums in delight. You tilt your head. Co-leading? 

“Co-leading? With whom?” Your chest feels heavy. Last year, your co-leader was a slacker, leaving you with all the work and little time for yourself. Your group of kids were absolute sweethearts, so you didn’t mind too much. Still, the experience had put a bad taste in your mouth. Yena’s back to concentrating on your question, but this time, she shakes her head with a slight frown. 

“I’m sorry dear, I don’t remember. Though, I do remember thinking that you two are sure to make a good pair!” She clasps your hands excitedly at the latter part of her sentence. You force yourself to smile through the anxiety. 

“Heh, yeah.” In translation, you were screaming internally. “I’ll go figure it out.” The only thing you could do was head to your cabin and hope to bump into your co-lead. Maple Woods usually had 2 young adults co-lead a group of kids to keep things safe. The co-leads shared the head cabin, no matter what. It was the first cabin in a ring of 4 other ones. The campers were divided by age – that’s where the different sections came from – then put into co-ed cabins. One cabin could fit about 8 comfortably, depending on how many kids signed up. The caterpillars are the 2nd and 3rd grader sections. The co-leader cabin was bigger, but that’s only because of the shared bathroom and small kitchen area. 

The air smells fresh, and you get lost in memories for a moment. There was the main hall where the welcoming ceremony would be held, and a cement path through a small patch of trees off to the side led to the different sections of cabins. On the other side of the path, surrounded by a small patch of trees, was the mess hall where meals and activities would be held. The older kids had cabins further into the woods while your section of cabins was situated right by the lake. Down the middle, past the mess hall and cabins, was the maple woods lake. The sunlight is glittering off the ripples already. Peace. That’s what the lake reminded you of. Up a trail on the north side, there was even a secluded waterfall, but the kids didn’t get to know about that part. 

You walk down the cracked cement walkway, puttering around with a rock as you go. The green doors are easy enough to spot against the orangey light wood of the cabins. You were lucky. You got the cabins right by the lakefront. You hike up the stairs, noting a suitcase outside the left door. Okay, so someone was here. That was a good sign. Walking through the right door it hits you that you didn’t grab any of your bags from the car. You stop in the middle of the room, groaning loudly. “Shit.” You curse, turning on your heel. It takes about 10 minutes for you to clamber back into the room this time with your bags haphazardly strapped across your body. They slip off your body with no regard for your hair or your skin. 

The room is simple, a bed in the corner, a closet, a desk, and a nightstand with a cute lamp on it. To the left are two doors, one leads to the kitchenette area – the other leads to the Jack and Jill bathroom, in which you can hear rushing water. Your co-leader must be taking a preemptive shower. You give an approving nod, wishing you could take a shower yourself. Instead, you decide to wander through the far door and into the kitchenette area. There’s a round table with a chair on either side of it pushed under a window. A small amount of counter space – treated pine countertops – decked out with a stove, sink, and a few cabinets. A fridge acted as the counter stopper, which was right next to your room – hmm, useful. Across from the kitchen area was a single sofa with a TV mounted on the wall. You always loved the counselors’ cabins because they were full of useful amenities. 

You pull out a chair, sitting down at the table to peer out the window at Lake Maple. You hear a door open and turn your attention toward the sound with a cheerful smile. You had the full intention of greeting your co-leader. Instead, you’re met with the bare chest of a silver-haired and lilac-eyed asshole. A simple cotton towel is wrapped around his waist, water droplets still lazily pathing their way down his sinewy chest and past the line of the before-mentioned towel. Your brows knit together, and he does the same. “Sanemi,” you grumble, forcing a smile upon your lips. “Please tell me you’re a figment of my imagination.” This cannot be happening. Sanemi Shinazugawa can not be your co-leader. 

When you met him for the first time both of you had bonded over having a shit parent. His father was abusive, scarring his son emotionally and physically. Despite the jagged pink scar that travels over the bridge of his nose and three crossing over each other on his forehead, Sanemi was excessively attractive. He wore his scars as a badge of what he’d overcome, but you knew there was underlying disgust that was hidden away.

He rolls his eyes, frustratedly peering to the corner of the room. “Believe me darlin’ I’m just as annoyed by this as you are.” Heat floods your cheeks at his casual way of speaking. You cross your arms over your chest, standing up from your chair with dramatic grandeur. 

His eyes follow your actions, concentrating on the way you nearly stumble to the side. He quirks a smile and this only fuels your annoyance, which was amusing in its own right. “There has to be a way we can switch out,” You throw your hands up, exasperated. Sanemi shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. 

He then jerks his head toward the general direction of the main office. “Already checked with Yena, they don’t trust anyone else but you’n me to run the caterpillar crew.” He explains, disdain practically dripping from his voice. You groan toward the ceiling. 

Of course, your mother would pull some shit like this. Making you work with the one person that could make you falter at your job. Was this a test? It was sure as hell annoying especially with Sanemi standing half-naked in front of you. “For fuck’s sake can you please go put on a shirt or something?” You pinch the bridge of your nose squeezing your eyes shut. 

Your words only earn a dark chuckle from the man across from you. “Why? I thought I could wear this to the bonfire.” He shoots back smugly. 

A long sigh blows past your lips as you decide not to honor him with a response. Instead, you head back into your room and slam the door. You fuss around with your hair, unpacking while you search for an outfit. Sanemi was so aggravating. With that smug look on his face and- you throw your hands down in frustration, frowning into the handheld mirror you propped against the wall. Sun earrings dangle from your ears, a simple gold chain around your throat, and mascara lifts your lashes. You put on high-waisted jean shorts and a pink bleach-washed tye-dye tank. Tennis shoes and white socks wrap it together. 

Your heart hammers an overwhelming rhythm as you blow out a breath. Sanemi Shinazugawa was sleeping in the same cabin as you, sharing food, time, and a bathroom. You had to get over this stupid grudge against him. It wasn’t healthy to latch onto something so silly for such a long time, but back then it hurt like hell. For the children, you had to put your past behind you. Maybe if you got drunk enough tonight you could talk to him about it, but those odds were very unlikely.  

There were a few people you wanted to chat with at the bonfire, have a few drinks, and then you’d be nicely tucked into bed ready for campers to start arriving tomorrow. Simple as that. A grin makes its way onto your face as you slip out of your cabin, but it quickly drops when you notice Sanemi leaning against the deck railing. You try not to sigh too loud, but he must hear it because he quirks a brow in your direction. “Why are you creepily waiting outside my door?” You inquire, gesturing to him. He huffs out a breath, stepping out of his leaning position. 

He’s wearing a black hoodie with shorts. You’re mildly upset by how good he looks in darker clothes. It contrasts his hair in such a way that captivates you. You shake those thoughts out of your head as he trots down the stairs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I can’t very well leave you to walk to the spot by yourself.” He nods in the direction of the dark path that winds through the woods and up the rocky ledges. 

You raise your brows, joining him on the ground. “You think I can’t handle a little spooky path on my own?” You scoff. Sanemi rolls his eyes and the action pricks your skin. 

He starts walking toward the path’s entrance and when you don’t follow he gives you a pointed look. “Shall I remind you of when we were seven?” 

“Sanemi hold my hand! I’m scared!” You whine, grasping his hands when he doesn’t make a move. “Promise me you won’t leave my side!” 

You whinge, shuddering at the memory, but jog to catch up with him anyway. He turns his head to watch the path become progressively darker, a few lamps hung on trees here and there. A grin finds its way onto his lips at the way you walk closer to him every time you hear a noise. “For a girl who grew up out here, you sure are jumpy. If you get too scared you can always hold my hand again.” He blurts, not meaning to tease you, but when your reaction is flushed cheeks and a high-pitched squeak, he can’t help himself. 

Eventually, the flickering light of a campfire and the sound of laughter distracts you from the man walking next to you. You rush ahead, excitedly finding your way to Shinobu and Mitsuri, two of your closest friends. The only people invited to this bonfire were the kids who grew up coming to this camp and eventually became counselors or otherwise affiliated. 

Gyomei Himejima; the stern, yet emotional one that usually dealt with the older kids. He claims the young ones are too selfish and he’s unable to keep them in check. He’s the oldest one here but still has such a soft spirit despite not having any family to go home to. Gyomei honestly loves the summer gig, but always chats about his pet cat that he can’t wait to get back to. You guess that was his family to get back to. 

Tengen Uzui; Mister Casanova with the other counselors, but he’s rumored to be otherwise attached. Which was fine by you, Tengen was all talk, no action. Besides you didn’t want any action from him – his fan club would hunt you down and no matter how many defense classes you took, you would not be able to stop them.

Giyu Tomioka; the quiet one. He was great at his job but not the best at talking with the other counselors. He usually sat and listened to all of you talk on, interjecting a few times with his opinion. He was a genuine and good guy, you enjoyed talking to him one-on-one.

Kyojuro Rengoku; no one else could handle the little rascals than him. He worked with the younger children since he was as kind-hearted as they come. It takes a special type of person to do his job and no one could do it better than him, except maybe Mitsuri.

Mitsuri Kanroji; also works with the nursery and younger kids. She was a nurturer at heart, caring for the young ones was her specialty. You kept in contact with her and Shinobu the most outside of camp. 

Shinobu Kocho; was the head of the infirmary, in case a child got a pretty bad scrape or needed medication. She may appear stern, but she was actually a big softy when it came to caring for the injured.

Obanai Iguro; head of the kitchen and helps lead exploration hikes. Obanai didn’t talk much either, he had that mysterious bad-boy thing going for him – which unfortunately Mitsuri fawns over. He was also Sanemi’s best friend. 

The bonfire was an annual party held the day before camp starts. There was a rocky clearing at the top of the waterfall that fed into the lake. This spot had a perfect view of Camp Maple, overlooking the soft glowing lights and some people rushing around for last-minute chores. Memories intertwined themselves with the breeze rushing through the trees surrounding the group. It was like a second home up here or maybe more of an escape. Either way, the light feeling growing in your chest was a welcomed change from knowing you’d have to work with Sanemi. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to you. It still felt like a firecracker ready to explode in your face at any moment. There was bound to be trouble with this arrangement.

You glance at him, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the fire. He’s grinning as he chats with Obanai, bringing a can of beer to his lips. You watch as his throat bobs, a dribble of liquid pooling at the corner of his mouth and eventually trickling down his neck. Before you can look away his eyes catch yours, a smirk lifting his lips as he pulls the can away. He raises his brows and your back straightens, your gaze quickly darting away. 

“Hey YN, have another drink.” Shinobu nudges you, passing you a bottle of liquor. You grin as you take it from her. 

The cool glass feels great against your mouth as you take a swig. The liquor burns a little as it slides down your throat, but it has a nice fruity taste to it. “Thanks,” You raise your glass to clink against hers. 

Mitsuri is on your other side, nervously wondering if she should talk to Obanai. “YN, would it be…weird for me to interject in their conversation?” She whispers in your ear, motioning discreetly to Obanai and Sanemi. You let out a soft sigh before chugging the rest of your drink. Your body fizzes with the warm gooey feeling of alochol. Mitsuri watches you with wide eyes, they sparkle in amazement. “Woah, that was really cool!” She exclaims. You huff out a laugh, extending your hand for Shinobu to hand you another. She does as you request and you pop open the cap with your teeth, letting the contents of the bottle slip into your mouth. Mitsuri claps excitedly, gaining the attention of the guys next to her. 

Sanemi stares at you, his brows knitting together slowly as he watches you swig one more bottle. You stand, swaying slightly as you turn to Sanemi. His gaze is trained on you, standing up as you stumble toward him. You crash into his arms, a dumb grin lining your lips. The group now looks on at the spectacle. “Nemi~” You coo, swinging your arms over his neck. Sanemi’s throat bobs, wrapping his muscular arm around your back to stabilize you. 

He laughs nervously, smiling with gritted teeth toward the rest of the group. “I’m going to take her back down,” He begins, pressing you tighter into his grip. You’re frustrated with how good his body feels against yours and when your shirt rides up a bit his skin feels like fire. Everyone seems in agreement, but you twist in his arms to shoot Mitsuri a thumbs up and a wink. Her face erupts in a red flurry and your goofy smile turns back to meet Sanemi’s gaze. 

You giggle at his stern expression. “Boop!” You squeak, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. His brows raise slowly as he takes in your slumping condition. 

Sanemi turns around, squatting down on his haunches. “Get on.” He motions with his head for you to climb onto his back. You hum excitedly, slinging your arms over his neck. Your legs wobble as you try to position yourself over his back. He sighs, reaching behind him to swipe your calves out from under you. You squeal as he repositions you, sliding his warm big hands under your thighs. “Hold on tight darlin’.” He instructs and you listen well by pressing into his back, nuzzling your chin onto his shoulder. “Well, have a good night everyone.” He tries his best to wave, the group saying their goodbyes. 

The view from his back is enjoyable as he hikes down the trail. “You’re so strong,” You mumble, spanning your hands down his chest absentmindedly. Sanemi pauses, his muscles constricting as you touch him. 

He shoots a look over his shoulder as you grope him. “Yeah, I work out, now please stop harassing me.” He jumps you further up his back to keep you from slipping off. You giggle at the jostling motion. 

Despite his earlier complaint, he lets your hands roam over what parts of his body you can reach. There's a comfortable silence that falls over you both but as you peer into the woods a memory you’d rather not think about seeps into your mind. “Sanemi,” You start, trying to swallow the way your heart is beating – hopefully, he couldn’t feel it against his back. “I’m sorry I was so angry at you.” The apology comes out of nowhere, but Sanemi knows what you’re talking about. 

He stops in his tracks, shutting his eyes for a beat. “Don’t apologize for what you have every right to feel.” He takes in a deep breath, you can feel his body rise with the motion. “I didn’t think your mother would do that, I-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat before continuing. “I was just worried about you. I was too scared to find you so I went to your mother.” 

Your brows scrunch and you feel your chest tighten at his words. You tap his back. “I want down.” He silently helps you slide down his back. He still holds onto you, making sure you can stand on your own. You glare into his soft expression, bottom lip trembling. “You should’ve found me,” Your nose stings with the pressure of tears welling in your eyes. He watches you with a solemn frown. “You should’ve come to me!” Your voice raises, a tear falling down your cheek. You hit his chest, letting out a choked sob. “You knew Sanemi, you knew she’d be angry.” Your fist drops from his chest, coming up to cover your soaked face. “I hoped beyond everything that you would appear over the hill, not her.” You throw your hands down, shaking your head. He just stands there, letting you drunkenly yell and cry like an idiot in front of him. Letting you hit him, throw your words at him, and relive a past you’d rather forget. 

He takes a step forward, yearning to reach out for you. “YN…” His voice is soft and comforting – you hate the fact you want to fall into his arms again. Have him carry you to safety like he should’ve done all those years ago. 

You step away from him, raising your hands in front of your face. “No, no, I need time.” Your voice trembles and as you leave Sanemi standing there in the dark you cry all the way back to your bed.

❦❦❦❦❦

“Welcome to Camp Maple Woods!” Your mother clasps her hands together excitedly. You groan from your position against the back wall with the rest of the counselors. She continues with the opening speech, her grating voice making your hangover that much worse. Mitsuri bumps shoulders with you, an all too happy smile on her face. 

You wish for just a second that you could have her resilience, but being perfect sounds like too much work. “Hey!” She whispers loudly to you. You peer around you, acting like she was talking to someone else. Mitsuri isn’t pleased with your antics because she crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a pointed look. You immediately halt and motion for her to continue. “Obanai and I texted all night.” Her stern expression lifts into a grin as her cheeks light up with a rosy color. 

You’re about to celebrate with her when Sanemi walks through the back doors. The happiness you share with Mitsuri washes away. You swallow hard, eyeing him as he leans against the wall next to Obanai. Unfortunately for you, Mitsuri is very observant. She glances between you and Sanemi, narrowing her eyes. “Now campers are you ready to go on your tours!?” Your attention is drawn to the front where your mother claps her hands together. For a brief moment, she meets your gaze and your blood boils. “May all our wonderful counselors head up to the stage!? We’ll be getting into our sections now!”

You put on your best smile, following Mitsuri to the stairs. Sanemi jogs up behind you and the resolve you’d built up this morning before heading to the main hall nearly crumbles to the ground. You had done your best to wake up early, hate your life as little as possible, shower, get ready, and escape the cabin before bumping into him. His presence behind you is an annoying warmth you want to swat away. Mitsuri joins Kyojuro and you awkwardly stand next to Sanemi with a strained smile. 

His shoulder brushes against yours and your breath hitches quietly. Your mother appears in front of you both, a blank expression on her features as she holds out a caterpillar sign to you. Your throat tightens, but Sanemi swipes it from her before she can shove it in your hands. You glance at him, brows knit together. The last thing you hear from your mother is a click of her tongue as she moves down the line. “Thank you.” You whisper, heart thumping in your chest. Was he trying to make up for what you talked about last night? 

He glances down at you, his smile shifting to something different. “Come find us caterpillars!” He yells and you gawk at him. He shoots you a wink and your lips part in awe. Did he just wink at you? That was so… weird. You shake your head and flail your hands in the air. 

Children start surrounding you, awkwardly shuffling to make room for others. Sanemi hands you a slip of paper with a list of names on it. Attendance doesn’t take long since everyone seems to have gathered around you. “Alright crew, let’s head out on that tour!” You exclaim, pointing your hand toward the double doors in the back. “Squirm to it you little caterpillars!” You shoo them down the stage, giggles erupting from a few of them as you jump off the edge. 

Sanemi follows the rest of them down the stairs, still holding the sign in the air. You giggle at how seriously he’s taking the task. “Mister Sanemi?” A small girl tugs on his shorts once everyone is outside. He peeks down at her with an award-winning smile. “Why is she not miss Sanemi?” She points to you and your eyes go wide as you tense. What kind of question is that!? Was there some code of conduct that camp leaders had to married to each other? Was two names that hard to remember?

Sanemi squats down and suddenly you get a flashback of him doing the same thing last night for you. You swallow, watching as he jerks his head in your direction. “Miss YN isn’t my wife, so she doesn’t share my name.” He explains. You drag a hand down your face. You didn’t expect this type of question to be asked so soon or at all. 

The little girl frowns and another kid points at Sanemi. “B-but I saw you wink at her!” The boy yells accusingly. Shit.

Sanemi glances at you with a ‘I fucked up’ look. He turns back to the group of children swarming him. He laughs easily. “I had something in my eye…” He deadpans. All of them suspiciously glare at him. 

You step into the circle, patting the top of Sanemi’s head. “It’s our secret leader code,” You begin, nudging him with your hip. “Whenever we have info on the big bad boss we wink at each other.” You wink at the children and their little faces light up. “Now you’re all in on our secret mission. Ready caterpillars!?” You stomp your feet and salute them with seriousness. They gasp and follow suit.

“Yes miss YN!” Sanemi shoots up from his squatted position, saluting you with a stupidly handsome grin. You stutter for a moment, before going back to at ease. “Now, what do you say we drop all these heavy bags off at the cabins and start exploring?” Sanemi suggests, pointing to the small path that led to the caterpillar cabins. As he excitedly starts leading them off into the distance you make sure to gather the stragglers. A smile of your own tugs on the corners of your mouth. Maybe you did make a pretty good team. 

Sanemi takes a seat on the stairs of your cabin, observing the kids form cabins of their own. You plop down one stair down from him, an amused grin forming on his lips. “What are you grinning about?” You quiz, glancing at him. 

He shrugs, shifting himself onto the same step as you and leaning back against the other steps. You can’t help the way your heart seems to pick up river dancing, beating fully. “Just figurin’ since we’re agents together we should be close.” You glare over your shoulder, met with his lazy smirk in your direction. A huff compresses out of your mouth as you roll your eyes. “What? I like the way you act when I get close to you.” He laughs, eyeing your reaction – which was exactly what he wanted. 

From his vantage point, Sanemi can just about manage to see your cheeks flush before you turn away from him, hiding away in your arm. “Like I’m being infected?” You shoot back, quickly standing up and – definitely pretending – to stretch. 

Sanemi’s eyes slowly rake up the exposed skin of your back, his tongue swirling around in his mouth as if trying to imagine how you would taste. “Mmm, somethin’ like that.” He hums, grinning widely when you narrow your eyes at him. 

The group of children start lining up in the grass, playing with each other while waiting for the rest of them. Some of them you recognize from last year, it’s crazy how fast kids can grow and change. Once you recognize all of their faces you and Sanemi start the tour. 

There are specific things that a sleepaway camp needs to have. Such as the obvious answer, cabins. The next obvious thing on the list is a beautiful lake. “Lake Maple was discovered way back when and this camp was built around it to preserve the landscape. There are canoes, swim gear, and a nice dock to carefully jump from. Make sure if you go to the lake that you have either Mister Sanemi or myself with you for safety.” Sanemi watches you recite the information you were supposed to give out, but you seem genuinely excited talking about the camp’s history. It was endearing… and the way your eyes gleam reminds him of when you were little, climbing trees and always reaching your hand out to him. You never left him behind. He sighs, turning away from your speech. 

The next thing a camp needs is huge buildings where lots of kids can gather. “This is the mess hall, where we’ll have breakfast, lunch, and dinner! It’ll also be where some indoor activities are held. If we don’t gather here, we’ll meet up by the picnic benches back at Caterpillar Circle. Over there is the infirmary where Miss Shinobu will gladly help you out. The main office is the building you should’ve passed when you were dropped off, that’s where Mrs Yena will be with, sadly, the only phone that has any service.” You point out, then turn toward the woods on the other side of the main camp area. You gesture widely to the expanse, taking in a deep breath. “And this, my little squiggles,” the children giggle, “Is Maple Woods, where we will hike trails, explore the wonders of nature, and fight off the evil boss.” Without thinking you wink at Sanemi. You can tell by the way his eyes bulge that he wasn’t expecting it, but as the little heads slowly turn to watch his reaction he quickly winks back at you. You catch yourself sighing in relief that you wouldn’t have to lay in bed staring at the ceiling for too long tonight because of that. 

A little girl you recognize from previous years – Himari you think – raises her hand. You nod to her in recognition. “Are we going to have the first-day campfire?” She jumps up and down, the girls around her getting excited as well. You glance down at your watch, then up to the sky, then do the girls. 

It was already late in the afternoon, the kids would have dinner and then gather back at Caterpillar Circle for an evening get-to-know-each-other campfire session. You grin, kids always enjoy the fire for some concerning reason. “Way to steal my job Himari!” You laugh and she giggles along with you. “Okay everyone, you heard Himari, head back to your cabins and get ready for dinner. Then we’ll have some time to get closer before bedtime. We have a busy day of fun tomorrow.” When they stare at you blankly, obviously waiting for one of you to start leading the way, you start marching your way down the path with as much vigor as you can muster. 

Soon enough, you and Sanemi are back in your positions on the stairs to your cabin. That comfortable silence blankets you again, like the setting sun’s warmth. “Ya’know you’re really good at this,” Sanemi begins before blowing out a breath and turning to face you. “M’glad we get to work together.” He finishes, a distant glimmer of emotion swirling around in his lilac gaze. You suck in a breath, a storm brewing in your stomach. 

Sanemi was a good guy, that much was obvious, but all those years ago had driven a wedge between you two. He hadn’t said the words ‘I’m sorry’ yet, which was a small nuance in the grand scheme of things. Sanemi was never really the type to say an apology, instead, he showed you. You can’t expect that much to change within him and you’re kind of glad. He would make it up to you until you were sure the wounds had begun to heal. He was giving you time to make up your mind on whether or not you wanted to forgive him. “Me too,” You whisper against the breeze. 

A whole column of picnic tables lined up edge-to-edge belong to your crew as you file into the mess hall. A couple of other groups are already sitting down with food, including the littles. Mitsuri and Kyojuro wave excitedly at you and Sanemi. You grin, waving back. “Alright squiggles, show me how nicely you can line up to receive dinner. Then come sit down and we’ll have a little camp saying before we start eating together.” They scramble toward the food and you kick your legs under the table part, deflating slightly. 

Sanemi comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. It makes you straighten your back and whip around to look at him. His lips curl in a playful grin. “Want the usual?” You glance at the kitchen, your stomach growling softly. You look back to Sanemi, nodding eagerly. 

As he walks away you think back to when he’d grab you dinner all the time, sitting in this exact mess hall. “Don’t disappoint me Shinazugawa!” You yell and he shoots you a smug grin as he scoots in line next to one of the boys in your group, Kenji. 

Mitsuri peers at you from her table, glancing back at Sanemi. Something seems fishy, she just can’t put her finger on it. Before this month you were complaining about seeing him again and now you two appear to be chumming again. Did something happen that you weren’t telling her? She pouts, nuding Kyojuro. “Do those two seem friendlier?” She asks in a hushed tone. Kyojuro furrows his thick brows, humming as his gaze flips between his white-haired friend and you. He’s about to tell Mitsuri she’s off her rocker, but he catches Sanemi throwing a look back at you while you are otherwise occupied with kiddos sitting down next to you. 

Kyojuro turns to Mitsuri, concern written all over his face. “Yes,” He hisses and now Mitsuri is concerned you may have ingested a little too much alcohol trying to help her out.

After a couple of minutes, Sanemi places a tray of vanilla pudding, tater tots, and chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce in front of you. “M’lady.” He grins, slipping onto the bench across from you with a tray of his own. Hana smacks Sanemi’s arm and he peers down at her with a surprised look. “What was that about Hana?” He questions, holding onto his arm where she hit him. 

She puffs out her lips and points at you angrily. “Mister Sanemi, we just went over this. Miss YN is not your lady.” She crosses her arms glaring at him. His brows shoot up, giving you a look of amusement before patting Hana’s head.

She looks like she might bite him at first, but then she leans into his hand. “Only because Miss YN keeps rejecting me..” He smirks at you. Ha! As if!

You roll your eyes, but gather the attention of your tables. “Let’s sing my favorite camp song!” You lead them in the Camp Maple fighting song that ends with chanting the name of the camp. “Wake me up wake me up we’re going to camp! I can’t wait I can’t wait we’re going to camp! There it is there it is we’re going to camp! Which one which one!? C-A-M P…M-A-P L-E!” They seem to enjoy every second of it, mainly because they get to scream as loud as they can. Sanemi meets your gaze for a blissful second before you busy yourself with your food, biting into one of the chicken tenders. Delight rumbles from your chest as you swallow the meat. 

Sanemi can’t help but watch you stuff your face. On one hand, he’s amused by how you still enjoy the simple things in life. On the other hand, he’s concerned when his heart races at you picking up the vanilla pudding. Being the heathen you were, as a child you’d just eat it with your finger. You claimed you could get more out of a cup if you used your finger. He grips onto the bench, gritting his teeth as you follow suit, sticking your pointer finger in. The creamy pudding sits there momentarily before you pop it into your mouth. 

It’s a simple, innocent – completely fucking innocent – motion, but his thoughts shift to something more warm than the humidity. Fuck why was seeing you damp with light sweat making him hungry? When you let your tongue swirl around the tip of your finger it drives Sanemi mad. Is he panting? He feels like he’s panting. 

A bit of pudding is on the corner of your mouth, waiting there. His heated gaze mimics how your tongue darts out to collect it. He sucks on his lips, regarding how your plump lips look so fucking delicious right now. 

The only thing that snaps Sanemi out of his daze is Hana plopping a spoon in front of you with a disgusted look on her little features. “You know Miss YN, if you needed a spoon you could’ve just asked.” She grunts, shuddering. Your cheeks flush and for the briefest seconds, you gape, staring into his eyes. Your cheeks flush a vibrant pink and suddenly Sanemi is picking up the spoon and using it in his own pudding. Hana and you both gawk at him, but if he were allowed to feed into one desire this whole time, it would be watching you eat pudding with your finger. Especially if it meant you’d look at him like that again. 

“This is the best pudding I’ve ever had.” Sanemi mumbles and Hana sighs frustratedly. “Something wrong Hana?” He asks. She whips her head toward him with a frown. 

Sanemi has to roll his lips into his mouth to stop from laughing at how cute she’s glaring at him. “Yes, I’m going to have nightmares.” She huffs. Yeah me too, but they aren’t exactly going to be nightmares Sanemi thought. 

Dinner finishes and children run around your feet as you walk out of the mess hall. The short walk back to Caterpillar Circle feels like an eternity with Sanemi walking silently beside you. “Can we wear our pajamas to the campfire!?” Aoi breezes past you yelling. 

You quirk a brow. “How about we make it a race? Whoever is back at the picnic tables first… wins.” You eye the giddy looks on all of their faces. “Ready? Go!” You don’t expect Sanemi to bolt toward his side of the cabin. Oh, so he’s going to play it that way?

Kids scramble to their cabins, giggling and yelling. You’re also laughing as you quickly swing your door open. You spot the pajamas you’d laid out earlier this morning with a smirk on your lips. The one reason you suggested a race is because you had an advantage. Cheating? No, strategic gameplay.  

You tug your clothes off, and toss them in the hamper beside your desk. A pair of shorts and an oversized shirt later you’re rushing out of the door in your slippers. You glance to your side, grinning mischievously when you don’t see Sanemi coming out of his door. You pump your hand in the air victoriously, spinning around in a mini victory dance. You proudly take your time prancing down the stairs, but when you turn to head toward the picnic tables Sanemi is leaning against the end of one with an amused smirk tugging his lips upward. Your mouth falls open, glancing back at his door. “How…? You…?” You slump in defeat as you reach him. 

He chuckles softly, bumping arms with you. “Your victory dance was pretty cute.” He teases. You glare at him, shoving him back with your side. 

Cute? In what way did he mean that? Sanemi must’ve talked too much with Tengen to pull one of those lines. You mutter a string of curses as you sit down in one of the green plastic lawn chairs. The arms dig into your hips and you grunt uncomfortably, pushing yourself into a less painful position. 

Your thighs are pressed together as you squirm around in the chair and Sanemi finds himself ogling the space where your shorts disappear under your tummy. He wanted to run his tongue along that area while grazing his teeth along your thighs. A lascivious smirk pulls on his mouth as he clears his throat, turning his face to the sky. 

The campfire starts with each kiddo introducing themselves, where they’re from, and three interesting facts about them. After the introductions, you bring out the s’more fixings with a twinkling grin as the kids scream enthusiastically. The night ends with you and Sanemi carrying some of them who fall asleep back to their beds. It was a euphoric space in time, something about today felt so right. Maybe the following weeks wouldn’t be so bad.

❦❦❦❦❦

You were wrong, so wrong. Sanemi stands to your side with his swim shorts on, assessing your outfit. “So… you’re not going to swim?” He cocks his head, quirking a brow. You lean back further into the armless beach chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He closes his mouth, glancing at the group of kids playing with water toys in and out of the water. “Nope.” You reply. “Observing from a distance is more my thing.” You continue, sliding your sunglasses over your eyes so you don’t have to squint through the rays of the sun. Sanemi sighs, disappointment finding its way into his mind. 

This morning when he saw you in a camp shirt with jean shorts he was sure you had a bikini on underneath. The only reason he got through a kid screaming about not getting any bacon this morning was the light at the end of his tunnel – you in a tight flattering bikini. “Y’know I knew you weren’t girly, but this is a whole new level.” Sanemi pokes at you, hoping that the fiery spirit within you will shoot out if he bugs you enough.

You glare at him, gesturing to your outfit. “This outfit is very girly I’ll have you know.” Sanemi shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you so you scoot as quickly as you can out of the chair. “Fine, watch the kids. I’ll be right back.” You snap. As you’re stomping back to your room you can’t help but think maybe you acted exactly how he wanted you to. If that was the case, then you’d give him what he wants, but he’ll pay the price. The malicious grin that forms on your lips as you pull out your lavender string bikini is grounds to have you locked away. 

Sanemi throws a beach ball at a group of the boys in the face as they giggle. In the back of his head is a flurry of lewd images of you spread out on that damn beach chair with a revealing swimsuit on. The boys throw the ball back at him and it plinks against his chest. He shakes his head, reaching for the ball as the boys groan. Fantasies of you were a distraction so he couldn't even imagine what the real thing would do to him. “Woah…” He hears one of the boys whisper. He glances up, met with the heavenly picture of you walking down the bank in a light purple string bikini that laces across your front. The cups are simple triangles with a string wrapping around the back of your neck for support he would only suppose. The bottoms rise above the roundness of your hips, showing off the fullness of your body. Damn, his mouth felt dry as he can’t tear his eyes away from you. 

His stomach was a trainwreck of emotions, the ball long forgotten by Sanemi. He blinks rapidly, trying to get you out of his eyes, but it was damn hard when you slowly lay back down on the chair, crossing your ankles over each other. He can see the side of your ass and for a beat, he feels like he might lose control. Then one of the boys throws the beach ball at him, it smacks against his face. This was torture. He expected you to look good, but the thin fabric allowed him to see the indent of your nipples – a vivid image he was never going to forget. 

You smirk while lounging in the chair, studying the way Sanemi’s mouth falls open ever so slightly. It was a strange sense of gratification that he was so enraptured by how you appeared in the bikini. Almost like you were happy he was gaping at you, a fire lit behind his eyes that ignited something in your chest. If you weren’t careful you were bound to let it out at some point. 

Since you were lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Sanemi stalking up to your side. You squeak when he appears next to you, dropping a towel over your exposed skin. You glare up at him through your sunglasses. “Did you walk out of every boy’s fantasy?” He grumbles, running a hand through his damp hair. 

Clicking your tongue, you toss the towel to the side and sit up in the chair. “Does that include yours Sanemi?” You inquire, pushing your sunglasses up through your hair. He stares at you for a while, mulling over what kind of response to give you. 

Suddenly, he scoffs and turns his back to you. “Yeah. Yeah it does.” You swallow hard at his confession, the sun’s heat no longer feeling as hot. You scoff, leaning back into the chair. He gives you one last glance before running back to play with the boys in the water. 

Was he being serious? He couldn’t have been…right? It wouldn’t make sense for Sanemi Shinazugawa, the guy whose seen you eat a bug, to have a fantasy – or whatever he meant about you. The confusion made the victory bikini less fun. 

At dinner, the kids are enraptured in a conversation about tomorrow’s canoe outing in the afternoon. This might seem silly, with you being a sleepaway camp counselor that has a giant lake as its main attraction… but you never learned how to fully swim. You can keep your head above water if you’re able to touch the bottom. It's something you haven't mentioned to anyone due to the fact you would die of embarrassment. “How quickly can you go Miss YN?” Hana’s eyes are pleading with you to answer her inquiry. 

So you smile, despite the obvious anxiety of where this answer might lead you. “Faster than Mister Sanemi.” You reply, jerking your thumb toward the white-haired male sitting a bit further down from you. 

He perks up at the mention of his name, meeting your eyes. “Did you just say you’re faster than me?” He laughs, scooting down to sit across from you. Hana nods ecstatically before you can brush off the challenge dripping from his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your hands in front of you. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare reveal the truth about you being a slowpoke.” You tease. Sanemi quirks a brow, letting his eyes look you up and down. The simple motion makes your muscles tense with a buzzing sensation. 

He hums to himself, leaning back with a shake of his head. “I bet you can’t win in the beginners' course against me.” Sanemi smirks, the boys around him snickering. 

Your eye twitches at the smug look on his stupid face. You clasp your hands together, smiling with gritted teeth. “You’re on Shinazugawa.”

That was your second mistake of the week as you shakily got into a canoe the next morning dressed in a white shirt and comfortable black shorts. The kids were fine with pushing off the hike to another day to witness this extraordinary event. Sanemi is grinning victoriously already. It makes you want to slap him with the paddle you’re holding. “Ready?” He asks. 

The grip you have on the paddle tightens as you nod curtly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You respond. Sanemi nods to one of the kids who starts a countdown before they all scream GO! Everything is going fine until you reach the turn. Sanemi is already far ahead of you and this becomes more of proving you can do it to yourself than winning against that smug bastard. 

With the paddle dipping into the water you manage to turn around the flagged buoy, children cheering your name. Your heart nearly explodes with happiness at the accomplishment. You make it a few more feet before you get too overzealous and the canoe starts to flip. As you crash into the water you knew you’d just have to flip yourself back over to – well, not drown. But something goes wrong and you slip out of the canoe, into the deep end of the lake. Murky water crowds your vision and a few thoughts crowd your mind. 

Will you get out of this alive? Is this some sort of divine intervention about how you’ve been previously living your life? Was this your canon event? You’d laugh at that one if you weren’t still sinking to what felt like the depths of the lake.

Would your mother even care? Okay, that one stings, but it’s something you think about a lot. When you’re driving and have one of those intrusive thoughts about wrecking. Would she care? Noticing a creepy person walking behind you at night. Would she come to your funeral? And now, as you lose the will to breathe. Would she remember what you smelt like, sounded like, looked like? 

Sanemi crawls out of his canoe, raising his hands in victory. He turns around to gloat in your face, but he’s met with your canoe upside down. You are nowhere in sight and after a second of you not popping back up, Sanemi frantically dives into the water. Where are you? His hands glide through the water, searching for any sign of your body. Where are you? Water fills his ears, only making the pounding in his chest louder with each stroke of his arms. He breaches the surface, gasping for air and twirling around to see anything – anything that would lead him to you. “Mister Sanemi! There!” A child screeches, pointing to the front side of your canoe. 

He plunges back in after taking a large gulp of air. He will find you this time. He’s not scared anymore. Not like all those years ago. He couldn’t lose you, not like this.

Amid some plant life is your floating body. If Sanemi were above water he thinks he’d cry with joy. He quickly moves toward you, scooping you up and pushing both of you toward the surface. Please please please don’t be too late. Sanemi’s mind is whirling with anxiety and his heart is pounding with the lack of oxygen. You both break through the surface, Sanemi pulling you along with him to shore. He deposits your limp body on the sand, panting and scanning for any sign of injury. 

You’re not breathing. Damnit. Sanemi’s jaw ticks as the children rush toward him. “Mister Sanemi give her CPR!” Hana yells, stomping her foot and mimicking the pushing rhythm he should be performing on you. He wipes his mouth, nostrils flaring as he slides to your side. His insides were twisting in unbreakable knots, squeezing his lungs of all air.

He pinches your nose and lowers his mouth to yours. “You can yell at me later,” He breathes quietly before connecting his lips to yours. As he pushes air through your lungs his lecherous mind drifts to how very wonderful your lips feel against his. They’re wet and taste like lake water, but they’re so damn soft. After a few more blows he worriedly looks at your chest. He doesn’t want to break your ribs, but if he has to in order to save your life – he’s going to.

Luckily, you chose now as the moment to gasp in air and then start hacking up lake water. Your eyes wildly scan your surroundings, locking onto the man hovering inches from your face. You squirm away from him, coughing into your hand. Sanemi and the children watch you with concern-stricken faces. You touch your throat gingerly, meeting the swirling lilac gaze of the male in front of you. “You saved me,” You croak out as it all falls into place, furrowing your brows. 

Hana pops into your view shaking her head. “Took him a long time to kiss you!” She yells, an annoyed pout on her lips. You glance back to Sanemi, his gaze still locked onto you. 

He cocks a grin in your direction which makes your heart swell. “I gave you mouth-to-mouth.” He explains and the worry about you being unconscious for your first kiss with Sanemi – not that you’ll have a first kiss with him – drifts away. The thought of his mouth on yours stays wandering in your head regardless. “Kids, can you hang out in the mess hall while I take Miss YN to the infirmary?” Sanemi questions, the children eagerly following instructions. He peers down at you once they’ve all scurried toward the big building. 

With a grunt, he slides his hands behind your neck and knees, hoisting you up bridal style. You yelp at how easily he holds you against his chest. “Hey, I can walk,” You grumble, glaring at his concentrated expression. He shakes his head, climbing up the bank. 

As he climbs you nearly tumble out of his arms. He cracks a smile, shifting you in his grasp. “Might wanna hold on tighter than that darlin’. Don’t worry, I won’t mind.” 

Begrudgingly you wrap your arms around his neck. The walk to the infirmary takes less than a couple of strides when he reaches the walkway. Shinobu worriedly meets your gaze when Sanemi kicks open the door with his foot. She stands from her desk, hurrying over to his side. “What happened!?” She assesses you with a scrutinizing look. “Put her down on that bed. I need to go get another bottle of aspirin from the main office. Sit tight.” Shinobu huffs, running a hand through her hair before slipping out of the door. 

Sanemi gently lays you on the bed, giving you a scan of his own. You swallow hard, wondering why your body feels so warm despite the brisk ac making your wet clothes stick to you. The way his lilac eyes regard you made something inside of you switch. He’d shown you how deeply he cared for you by saving your life. Granted, any decent person would’ve jumped in to pull you out of the water – but Sanemi looks shaken up. Like he almost lost you. It makes your chest heave, a heavyweight tugging on it as you reach up to touch his cheek. 

His worried look turns to you, a slight wobble in his irises as your thumb strokes the side of his face. “Hey… I’m here. I’m okay. You did such a good job.” You whisper, but yet your voice seems too loud. Sanemi leans into your touch, shutting his eyes as he takes in a shaky breath. 

It was all fun and games until he had to think of a world without you in it. The bottom line is he wouldn’t have a world without you. The grass would shrivel, the color would drain, and sunlight would simply cease to exist. “You should’ve told me you couldn’t swim.” His brows furrow and he opens his eyes to stare into your very soul. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was so worried YN.” He rolls his lips into a thin line, his chin trembling. 

It’s like you lose your breath all at once. This man, the one you thought didn’t have an ounce of compassion for you, was about to start crying because you failed to mention your lack of skill. You bump your forehead against his head, kissing his hairline. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” At your words he jerks away from your head, his eyes wildly scanning your face. Your breath holds tightly in your throat as time seemingly slows. 

Then his eyes fall to your lips and everything in the universe pulls you two together into a soft brush of the lips. Given the state of it, hidden behind a white curtain on the infirmary bed, the kiss felt too precious. Too wonderful. Your hand falls from his face and before you have a moment to give in to whatever was happening, Sanemi pulls away. He shoots to a standing position, turning on his heel. Your body cools instantly. Oh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” He begins, taking a couple of steps toward the curtain. Oh. He quickly glances over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He hisses, then rushes out of the building nearly bumping into Shinobu as she walks back with a pill bottle in hand. She jumps back, eyes widening as she watches Sanemi stalk toward the mess hall. If it hadn’t been for the heat she might’ve mistaken the red on the tip of his ears as something else. 

❦❦❦❦❦

Weekends are set up for the kids to decide what they want to do. It’s a free period within reason. Most of them hang out in groups around the buildings, playing games or swimming. Weekends allow the leaders to get chores done around the campgrounds, like picking up trash, organizing things for the next week, arranging laundry, and supervising more involved things. 

You happened to spend most of the first weekend with a group of girls who wanted to use the craft supplies for next week. Since Sanemi was your co-leader there were times you had to speak with him, which made avoiding him incredibly difficult. 

The thing that upset you the most was even after he ran off, your heart still flutters at just the sight of him. Weren’t you supposed to be the master of your own emotions? It frustrated you to no end how you sought him out in crowds. At first, you tried to convince yourself it was a strategy to avoid him, but when he didn’t come to talk to you somehow your heart sank. 

Before you know it, Monday morning arrives, casting a stormy forecast for the rest of the week. It’s pouring heavily outside the mess hall windows. Fortunately, your group of kids are behaving even though it couldn’t be easy stuck inside all day. Your eyes are drawn to the other group happily stringing beads onto yarn. 

Sanemi sits amongst them with a warm smile on his face, actively trying not to glance at you. He can feel your gaze on him and it was making his heart feel weird, like he’d just run a mile or hiked up a trail. He presses his lips into a thin line, laughing absentmindedly at one of the boys spilling beads everywhere. 

The kiss. That’s all he could think about and it was ruining his life. All night he tossed and turned thinking about knocking your door down so he could do it again. Regret ran through every fiber of his being when he walked away. He thought he’d gotten over his fears, but it turns out that realizing you might have feelings for your good friend is not the easiest situation to be in. He was in a panic, fucking terrified you would hate him for kissing you. He didn’t even ask you, it just happened. What kind of scumbag was he? 

He groans, turning to face away from you. You huff, rolling your eyes. Fine, he could be that way if he wanted. He’s the one who kissed you anyway. This was all on Sanemi. Hana nudges her friends Keiko, Mai, and Akane. They all slowly turn to stare at you, then toward Sanemi. Keiko narrows her eyes while tying the knot on her bracelet. “Somethings wrong,” She mumbles, slipping the adorably crafted jewelry onto her arm. 

Mai and Akane nod vigorously. “Why are they avoiding each other?” Akane hisses, glancing back at their other leader. Hana shakes her head, stroking her chin in thought. 

Kenji appears behind the group, causing them all to jump. Mai slaps his shoulder and he giggles. “What’cha talkin’ ‘bout?” He pokes his head in between Akane and Mai’s shoulders. They collectively sigh, rolling their eyes at the annoying boy. 

Hana gestures to both leaders, pinching her brow. “For some reason, Mister Sanemi and Miss YN are avoiding each other.” She explains snappily. 

Kenji pops his head up, glancing at both of you. His mouth forms in the shape of an ‘o’. “Ah, this reminds me of when my mom and dad would fight and then ignore each other.” Hana perks up at his suggestion, slowly turning to look at her friends. 

Mai raises a brow and then grabs a piece of yarn. “There’s only one way to fix this.” She valiantly collects a bunch of green beads to mix with lilac ones. She picks out two heart-shaped beads that sit on either side of a letter in the middle. When she’s done, two bracelets sit in front of her. One has an ‘S’ with two red hearts on either side, followed by a pattern of lilac and green. The other is the same, except in the middle is the first letter of your name. “Matching friendship bracelets,” She holds them up, smiling triumphantly. 

Hana claps her hands together. “Wonderfully done Agent Mai, now let’s give it to them!” She grabs the ‘S’ one from Mai’s hands, running over to your side. “Miss YN!” She yells. “We made this for you!” Without much consideration for your wrist, she shoves it past your hand. 

“Here you go Mister Sanemi!” You turn to see Kenji holding what seems to be the same bracelet in front of Sanemi’s face. A roll of thunder shakes the valley outside and his eyes meet yours momentarily. It sends a shock of emotions through you.

Later that night as the rain plips against your window you stare at your wrist in awe. A growl echoes around your room and it takes you a moment to realize it was your stomach. It almost makes you crack a smile. You would’ve if you weren’t in such a daze as you walk out into the living room area. 

What you don’t expect to see is Sanemi leaning against the counter shirtless, with his sweats hanging loosely around his athletic hips. You swallow, taking your time to rake your eyes up his bare chest. When you end up meeting his gaze his lips tug into a smirk. “Enjoy the view?” He mutters, picking a peach up off the counter. 

Your brows furrow and you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “As a matter of fact, no I’m not.” You snap, scoffing and lying through your teeth. 

Sanemi shrugs, biting into the juicy peach tantalizingly slow. Juices leak from the broken skin, dribbling down his chin as he takes the flesh into his mouth. His tongue darts out to lick up a droplet escaping down the side of the fruit. You gulp as he continues to eat. The noises alone were enough to drive a woman mad, but the fact you were ovulating made everything so much worse. “Want one?” Sanemi asks, licking his lips of all the sticky juice. 

If you were crazy your mouth would fall open, allowing him to put the one he was eating into your mouth. “No.” You grumble, yanking a can of Pringles out of the cabinet. 

Sanemi watches how your ass curves as you stretch to reach into the upper cabinet. “Suit yourself,” He mutters, biting into the peach again. You roll your eyes and march right back into your room, tossing the pringles onto your bed. You ruffle your hair, silently screaming into the night. Fuck that guy for being shirtless. He waltzed around like a whore scrounging for some loose change obviously trying to get a rise out of you. Would the kiss go unmentioned forever? How were you supposed to be around Sanemi when all you could think about was how badly you wanted to jump his bones? You’re absolutely fucked. You grit your teeth together as you glare at the door. But damn did he have such a perfect body. The sweats, the lazy smile, the damn peach he bit into. It was all torture and he damn well knew it.

He wasn’t likely to figure out the full extent of your feelings– hell you didn’t even know exactly what you felt, but if he kept this up you might as well walk around with a neon sign on your forehead that reads I’d like to fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. Maybe then your mother would pay attention to you. Not that you care.

You glance down at your wrist again, the letter ‘S’ spreading a grin across your face. This was stupid. So stupid. What if Sanemi was still in the other room? Or using the bathroom? What would you do then? You have a pit of desire and you wish Sanemi would clean it off with his teeth. Were you jealous of a peach? Groaning, you slip out of your bottom layer of clothing, discarding it on the floor. Things were getting dangerous. Your thoughts were supplying you with a fantasy world and you were about to become delusional. At least then you wouldn’t have to face the reality of this stupid – well, whatever it was. 

Positioning yourself against the corner of your bed, you spread your legs apart. The cool breeze from the ac hits your damp pussy and the sensation makes you slump against the wall. If Sanemi were between your legs right now he’d probably lick his lips and spread them even wider so he could have full range to lavish his tongue against your sensitive clit. A tiny moan whines from your throat. 

The image drives you to reach between your thighs, hissing when your fingers brush against your clit. His tongue would feel warm, wet, and slick as it laps at your folds. Your fingers plunge deeper, a strangled moan falling from your mouth.

Your breathing pattern stalls, hiccuping as you work yourself into a frenzy – the inside of your stomach feeling gooey and hot. His long thick fingers would slip into your pussy, teasing the entrance where you’d beg for him to fuck you later. He’d smirk, pleased with how you’re so desperate for his cock, for all of him. But he’d make you wait, good girls always wait for permission. You groan – a guttural pleasured groan. It rolls through your chest, cracking into a whimper at the end as you edge yourself closer to your crest. 

It’s like you’re seeing stars with how your fingers feel, you only wish Sanemi were here, ready to please like he usually is. His words and touch always elicit a response from you. He had to know that. What kind of response would he get out of you as he lined the tip of his cock up at your entrance? Making you bed for him to fuck you unconscious. You’d be such a good little slut for him. Taking all of him inside your hungry cunt until he clung to your hips, spilling his seed inside of you. 

A tense pinch of pleasure squeezes your core, crashing through your body with a string of perfectly pretty moans. Sanemi hadn’t meant to listen to you masturbating. It was an accident – he’d come to your door to apologize for allowing you to misunderstand his intentions. His knuckles had brushed against the wood of your door when he heard you gasp. Wondering if you were okay he pressed his ear to the door. Then, his muscles tensed as you purred out a moan. 

Sanemi was a decent man – or so he thought until his hand slips down to his growing bulge. He hisses as you whimper, gasping for air – your bed squeaking with movement. He wants to swing the door open and take in the sight of you sprawled out. What kind of face were you making while moaning like that? More importantly, what were you thinking about? 

You’re whimpering and the glint of the beads around Sanemi’s wrist sends his thoughts spiraling. The very same bracelet he wore on his arm was around yours. It was like he was between your legs, pressing his thumb against your clit to proudly watch you squirm in pleasure. His mouth waters, imagining how you’d taste after cumming. His cock aches to burrow into your wet warmth and stay there forever. 

He presses his forehead to the wood, letting out a tight breath as he strokes his length through the cloth of his sweatpants. If he stayed here any longer it would surely result in him knocking down your door. Not the valiant way he had thought about confessing. Sanemi steps away from your door, cursing under his breath. He holds up his arm, staring at the matching bracelet until he notices the first letter of your name. His gaze slowly makes it way back to the door. Was there an ‘S’ on yours? For his name? His eyes flutter shut, a trickle of possessiveness racking through his body. 

Tuesday is finger painting. The kids each get their own easel and insist you and Sanemi paint with them. The morning ends with Sanemi having paint smeared across his face and you with splotches on your arms. The afternoon is bubble painting, which results in bubbles being blown everywhere. Wednesday is crafting things with clay. You proudly present your monstrosity at the end of the day. Sanemi and the kids try their best to compliment whatever you had created, but you can tell they’re just being nice. 

When Thursday rolls around the kids want to draw and color all day so Sanemi and you make sure they have lots of construction paper, colors, and other supplies. You’re sitting with Hana’s group of friends and Sanemi is across the room with a group of boys, drawing furiously.

Kenji peers down at what Mister Sanemi had drawn. “Hey, that kind of looks like Miss YN,” He points at the stick figure holding the hand of the other one. Sanemi covers the page and shakes his head. 

Kenji somehow manages to push his arms off, grabbing the paper. “Oi! Brat, give that back!” He yells as Kenji runs over to your side. You smile down at him as he hands you the page. 

You cover your heart and your smile grows. “Aww, Kenji did you draw this?” You ask, your voice softening. 

He shakes his head vigorously. “Nope! Mister Sanemi drew you and him holding hands!” You glance up, meeting the flushed face of Sanemi standing over Kenji. His eyes look pleading as you drop your eyes to the drawing again. It did kind of look like you, but that would be impossible. Why would Sanemi draw something like this? 

“YN, listen…” He starts, brushing up against you. Your body stiffens at his close proximity. “I hadn’t finished, I was going to draw the kids in next.” He explains. You wish he would step back from your side because his warmth is driving you insane. 

Kenji giggles as he rushes back to his group of friends. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.” You state, handing the drawing back to Sanemi. “I could honestly care less what you draw.” You smile sarcastically and turn back to your group. Sanemi stands behind you for a moment, his heart yearning to reach out and touch you again – but he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He obviously already fucked up when he kissed you, after all you’d been avoiding him. It was best that he kept his distance to figure out how to talk to you and give you space so you’d listen to him.

The next morning you manage to chow down your breakfast before Sanemi enters the kitchen area. In all honesty, you were aware thinking about someone you were mad at while masturbating… wasn’t the best look. You didn’t want to think about the realities of what that meant for you since Sanemi was still being an asshole about the whole innocent kiss thing. The thoughts going through your head last night were far from innocent. 

You’re sitting in a lawn chair, writing down some ideas for today’s craft. The kids had to make puppets and come up with a script to perform in the afternoon. With your group of kids, things were bound to go smoothly. You grin, shutting your notebook and checking the time on your phone. It was almost time for the kids to meet you and Sanemi near the picnic benches. You glare at your cabin, waiting for the white-haired male to step out of his door at any moment. The knob turns and you quickly act like you weren’t blatantly waiting for him. “Mornin’ YN,” Sanemi calls, jogging up to your side. You roll your eyes, glancing at the casually attractive outfit he has on. A pair of fitted black shorts that accentuate the size of his muscular thighs with a loose gray shirt tucked into one side. 

He plops down next to you. “Why were you so late?” You interrogate. Sanemi quirks an easy smirk, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye.

Sanemi props one of his legs over the other, leaning further into the chair. “I had to take a shower,” He begins, raising his brows. “Could’ve used the company.” He cocks his head toward you, his lilac eyes filling with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. 

Your brows furrow despite the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Scared of showering by yourself just like you’re scared of kissing people?” You snap and his playfulness is immediately wiped off his face. Where were these words coming from? Were you going crazy? The inside voices are becoming the outside voices! It’s too late now to back peddle. You scoff, turning away from him. “Don’t, I know you regret and it’s fine. I just figured you would’ve cut back on the flirting.” You push out of the chair. “I’m not some girl you can flirt with for the summer and then fuck off to wherever, okay? If you’re going to accidentally kiss me then fucking own up to it and talk to me like an adult. You made me feel so uncomfortable because I somehow thought it was my fault. So this whole cool-guy act needs to stop. Until we have a real conversation about what happened I would rather go back to friendly hating each other.” 

As you stomp away Sanemi feels the ‘oh shit’ factor roll through him. While he’d been trying to figure out his feelings toward you, he’d been allowing you to figure it out for him. You assumed he wanted some summer fun and thought better after kissing you, but that wasn’t it at all. Sanemi was falling, so fucking deeply in love with you. He had been ever since you were kids, but as a boy who grew up barely knowing what kindness was, it was hard to seek out those emotions. Now looking back to how he felt when you ran away into the woods that night… he realizes the panic of finding your mother was so you would be found as quickly as possible. No one saw you for a week after that and he’s still not sure what happened, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

He was stronger now and he’d stand up to your demons, slaying them with you by his side. He would protect you no matter what, but right now he had to explain this misunderstanding before it was too late. Kissing you was the best thing to happen to him – accident or not. It made him forget how shitty his life was and how blissful it could be by just seeing you. He’d fucked up.

After cooling off you wandered back to the growing group of children that rush you when they spot you. It makes your heart warm that they’re so excited. Sanemi watches you from a distance and you’re glad he seems to finally be listening to you. 

Leading the kids to the mess hall through the light morning rain is more peaceful than it should be. No one tries to jump in the mud, they stay in between you and Sanemi, walking politely. When you explain in detail what they’re supposed to do all of them get to work using craft paper and whatever was leftover from the week. The morning blows past and suddenly you’re sitting in a seat next to Sanemi as groups of kids put on puppet shows. Some of them make you snort with laughter and others are downright works of art. Then, Hana and her group of friends present their show. A spikey white-haired puppet and one that looks eerily like you pop up into the makeshift theater. 

Your eyes widen realizing what’s going on. “Hi there darling! I sure do love your face!” Kenji yells, playing the white-haired puppet. 

Slowly you and Sanemi make eye contact. “We should love each other’s faces forever. Then love our baby’s faces. Then love our-”

You shoot into a standing position, clapping your hands together. “Okay, that’ll wrap up the puppet shows everyone!” You demand, laughing nervously. What the actual fuck? You whisk around to glare at Hana and Kenji dramatically making the two puppets kiss. “Oi, William Shakespear and Agatha Cristi get over here, now.” You point to the spot next to you and Sanemi. Akane and Mai scurry away with the rest of the kids heading toward the snack table. 

Kenji and Hana meander toward you; pouts puffing out their bottom lips. “Guys, you can’t keep doing this.” Sanemi gestures to the puppets on their hands. “Miss YN and I aren’t some story you can just use willy-nilly. We’re real people with real emotions.” 

A scoffed laugh falls from your lips. “Mister Sanemi has a hard time with emotions anyway, that’s why this show wasn’t even true to life. He would never call someone darling.” You explain dully. 

Hana shakes her head, pointing to Sanemi. “Nu-uh! He called you darling the other day!” She exclaims. You glance at Sanemi and then drag a hand down your face. 

“Hana, this isn’t something you should be concerned with.”

“But we just want you and Mister Sanemi to make up.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s no fun while you guys are fighting.” Your eyes bulge as she talks. Did the kids care that much? And they noticed? Gosh, that was kind of sweet. 

Sanemi leans forward, ruffling Hana’s hair. “Don’t worry about it kiddo, we’ll work on it.” He glances at you with a slight smile. A sigh rushes through you as you nod in agreement. Kenji and Hana rush off to the snack table to join their friends. You can remember a time when you and Sanemi played pranks on the camp leaders. A growing ache suffocates your next breath. You peek at him, wondering where things went wrong. Part of you was mad that he walked away after the kiss and another part was angry because you enjoyed it so much. No matter what happened it felt like you couldn’t be friends with him. It was like the universe was keeping you away from each other for a reason unbeknownst to you.

When you both get back to the cabin nothing gets talked about. It’s an awful feeling, like abandonment all over again. Sanemi didn’t care enough about you to talk or explain why he kissed you. Everything was so nice until that stupid kiss that you couldn’t stop thinking about. The fact that it was that good, yet lasted about two seconds drives you mad. 

It’s not until Saturday morning as the sky quakes with thunder and heavy rain, that you decide enough is enough. If he wasn’t going to talk to you, then you’d have to take it into your own hands. That was until there was a knock on your outside door. You get out of bed and open it to find Yena holding an umbrella. Her eyes are filled with some sort of sorrow as she blows out a heavy breath. “YN, deary, I need to speak with one of your kiddos. Can you bring Kenji to the main office? His mother is on the phone.” She explains, a sad smile creasing her lips. You nod your head, looking toward the cabin you knew Kenji was sleeping in. 

You look back to Yena, wondering how serious it was for her to be so affected by it. “Yeah. Let me get dressed and I’ll bring him over before 8.” You reply, a cool wash of anxiety coating your insides. Yena nods. 

“I’ll see you then.” She turns to leave, walking out into the downpour. You study her retreating form before shaking off the dreadful feeling that was wrapping around you. After slipping into a comfy pair of shorts and a hoodie you run over to cabin 3. 

Knocking on the door a sleepy boy answers the door. You recognize him as Mikey, one of Kenji’s close friends. “Hey Mikey can you get Kenji for me, please? Tell him to get dressed and meet me out here.” You explain and the little boy shuts the door. 

A couple of minutes later Kenji pops out of the door, eagerly running up to you. He hugs your legs and bounces up and down. “Are we going on a special mission Miss YN!?” He yells, grabbing onto your hand. For some reason your heart aches, sensing something is off.

You bend down to his level anyway, putting on your biggest grin. “We sure are! I needed my bravest soldier to help me on a secret quest.” Your face becomes stern and Kenji giggles, running around in a circle. 

“Don’t worry Miss YN! I’ll protect you! Did’ya know I’m stronger than Mister Sanemi!?” He squeals, punching the air. You stand up, laughing off his comment about your co-leader. All those years carrying you around and taking care of his little brother were bound to build up excess strength. Plus those muscles of his were no joke…

Kenji latches onto your hand again as you walk the path to the main office. It’s not raining as hard as it was moments ago, but thunder still rolls through the sky. You walk him through the main office door, Yena waiting behind the counter with the phone pressed to her ear. She spots Kenji and waves him over. He sends a look at you over his shoulder before releasing your hand to walk to Yena’s side. She hands him the phone and his face instantly drops.

The hands of your past crawl back into your stomach, clawing out anything good and leaving behind gouges of trauma, boiling toward your throat. Kenji’s eyes start trembling as he clutches the phone to his ear. “No! No! You can’t!” He suddenly yells, pushing the phone away from him, sobs flooding from his mouth. You take a step toward him but he angrily glares at you before bursting through the front door. Yena slumps defeatedly against the wall. 

You glance at the door still swinging shut. “Yena, what’s going on?” You inquire softly, terrified of the answer she’d give you.

She looks up, a pained expression taking the light away from her face. “Kenji’s parents are divorcing. His father isn’t going to be there when he gets back.” 

Her words coast around in your brain before you turn on your heel and bolt after Kenji. No, no, please no. The similarities between your past and this moment is laughable as you cut through the trees. Your eyes wildly search for little Kenji, anywhere, somewhere. Thunder claps above your head but you ignore it, traveling further into the woods. “Kenji!” You scream, rain spitting into your eyes. “Kenji please come back!” You yell, cupping your hands around your mouth. You feel empty, yet full of terror. The same way you felt back then when your mother kicked your dad out of your life. The man that would take care of you when your mother got too angry or too drunk. He was gone forever, your protector. Left you to be fed to the monsters your mother harbored. 

You split through a clearing, breathing heavily as the rain comes down with torrential intent. You feel like crying, screaming, throwing yourself off a cliff even, but you catch a glimpse of Kenji’s red shirt huddled up against the hallow of a tree. “Miss YN!” He cries, holding out his arms for you. “I’m scared.” You rush to his side, bringing him tightly to your chest. 

The both of you cling to each other under the cover of the tree, sobbing with the sky. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” You breathe, stroking his head. Kenji curls up in your arms, trembling with tiny hiccups. You knew these woods like the back of your hand, but as the rain blurs your vision the realization crashes over you. 

You had no idea where you were.

Sanemi watches the rain from his window, wondering what you were doing right now. He grunts as he slides off his bed, heading through the kitchen area to your door. He knocks lightly, aware that you might still be sleeping. “YN?” He calls out softly, but you don’t respond. He furrows his brows knocking harder. “YN?” His voice is firmer, but yet nothing comes from your room. He reached for the knob, twisting it open with ease. The door swings open revealing your empty room. He glances around, breathing in your scent and trying to push down the excitement of being in your personal space. He moves around your room, heading toward your outside door. He walks through it, feeling the cool breeze of the storm against his skin. 

Where were you? He spots a group of boys sitting outside their cabin. He jogs over to them through the rain, stopping under the cover of their deck. “What’cha up to?” Sanemi inquires, planning on asking them if they’d seen where you went. 

One of them looks at him. “Miss YN took Kenji and we’re waiting for him to come back because he wanted to play games with us.” He explains and Sanemi quirks a brow.

What was that about? “Do you know where?” Sanemi pushes. The same one that was talking to him shakes his head.

“They were headed toward the main office, but I’m not sure where exactly they were headed.” Sanemi thanks the group of boys before running toward the main office. When he swings open the door Yena is sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. She glances up when he walks further into the door. 

Her features soften, a worried expression crossing her face. “Oh Sanemi, thank goodness. I’m so worried.” She rises from her seat, crossing over the carpet to his side. 

A sense of dread hits the pit of his stomach like a weight of bricks. What was going on? Where were you? Why did Yena look so anxious? “What’s wrong?” Sanemi glances around the office, wishing that you’d pop out to surprise him. 

Yena places a hand on his shoulder, turning his attention back to her. “Kenji ran into the woods and YN followed him.” She explains. 

The feeling of concern amplifies as his blood cools. Not the woods again. “When?” He snaps, a strike of lightning illuminating the sky. Yena sighs, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

“About an hour ago,” She trails off, furrowing her brows together. “Sanemi, please, find them.” Without a second thought, he runs into the woods. A flash of when he was younger causes him to halt at the tree line. His heart is beating erratically in his chest as he stares through the trunks of thick forest. He’d been too scared to continue on back then, but you were probably frightened too. Who was he to love you if he couldn’t face your terror? It’s then that he lifts up his wrist to view the matching bracelet. He shakes off his nerves and starts jogging through the foliage.

The rain soaks through his shirt, slicking his hair to the side of his face. He had to find you. Just a week ago you nearly drowned on his watch because of a stupid bet and now you were lost in the woods during a strong storm. Were you trying to test his patience? No… you most likely ran after Kenji because of your inner child. Something wanted to heal that part of you. Being a child was difficult, especially when you were taught that emotions were wrong. 

Sanemi can remember the way your mother screamed as he pulled you angrily by your arm. Her grip left marks on you, red splotches of hatred spanning your tiny arm. She was cursing, screeching about how much of an embarrassment you were, if you loved your father so much then why didn’t you go find him? She was a pure blur of her past demons boiling up into one entity – against her own daughter. 

Now, he would plunge a sword through her heart and save you from the wild beast. Take you away somewhere safe. If only he’d understood more back then. It was all his fault. He had no right to have these feelings toward you when all he caused you was turmoil. Yet, he can’t help but see your smiling face, blushing cheeks, and sparkling eyes. The way you stop to smell the breeze of the lake. How joyful you are with the kids, genuinely caring for them. Your sassy remarks when he got too flirtatious with you. The way your lips felt against his in that blissful moment. He… truly loved you. Every ounce, curve, and flaw. “YN!” He screams, the beating of his heart echoing in his ears. 

Sanemi wants to tell you everything, instead of running to someone else. This was between you and him. He couldn’t last another second without telling you how much you meant to him. “YN! Where are you!?” He’s scanning the treeline, worry creasing his brows. 

You and Kenji still, then look at each other. “Is that Mister Sanemi?” He asks, eyes welling with tears again. You brush your thumb over his plump cheeks, soothing him.

It’s not helpful that your heart picks up its beating rate at the thought. Sanemi had come to find you – well you and Kenji. Regardless, you’re a little too happy about it. “Over here!” You scream, covering Kenji’s ears. 

Sanemi’s heart thumps against his ribcage as he hears you scream back for him. He glances around his surroundings, his eyes finally landing on a hint of red in the distance. “Hold on! I’m coming!” He charges toward the area your voice came from. 

He sees your face, a sloppy mess of tears and wet hair, and he wants to drop to his knees. “Thank goodness…” You whisper, letting Kenji run to hug Sanemi’s legs. His eyes are locked on your every movement, studying if you are okay. 

“We need to get you back, I don’t think you could’ve made it out of the forest.” Sanemi holds Kenji’s hand, waiting for you to start following him. Something holds you back though, a sinking feeling of guilt or shame – you weren’t sure which. 

You had cried and hidden away just like when you were younger. Sanemi didn’t come to save you… he came to prove a point. You were still just that little girl, running away from her problems. You’re silent the whole way back, emotions dancing with thoughts. Yena hugs you and then yells at you for running out without a map. Kenji is sent to get a check-up from Shinobu. Everything feels like it’s underwater, floating past you. Only when you’re in front of your cabin do you snap out of the daze, peering up at Sanemi. “You didn’t think I could make it out on my own…” You mutter. He turns to you, knitting his brows together. “I thought you were there to save me, but you were just there to prove that you could do it. It had nothing to do with me.” Your body feels frozen, numb even. 

Sanemi opens the door to his room. “That’s not it at all. Just give me a moment and we can talk about this later.” He replies, closing his door behind him. Later huh? You didn’t want later. Now was later. 

You rush to his door, swinging it open angrily. “No, you don’t get to walk away. We’re talking about this now.” You snap, taking in Sanemi without a shirt. Why did he always have no shirt on? You halt, mouth gaping. 

He sighs, tossing his wet shirt into his hamper. “Fine, you want to talk, let’s talk. It was careless of you to just run after Kenji like that.” He hisses, motioning to you. “Do you know how worried everyone was? I understand why you did it, but what if something had happened to the both of you? What then YN?” 

You march up to him, poking at his chest. “You don’t understand shit Sanemi! Kenji ran into the forest. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and wait for some big muscley man to go in and find him? I did what felt right and you cannot blame me for that!” Your voice is quaking, on the verge of tears. 

Sanemi scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not blaming you! For fuck’s sake can you stop thinking that everyone is out to get you!? I am not your mother. I care about you and blame myself every fucking day for what happened back then.” Wow. Did he really just bring up your mother? A tormenting ache twists your gut, sucking up any energy you had left.

His nostrils are flaring and your body buzzes with a newfound heat. It’s anger, it’s sexual frustration, and its adrenaline all wrapped up into one. “Yeah well, you have a real funny way of showing how sorry you are. It’s so funny how you can kiss me one day and then act like nothing happened the next.” You laugh tightly and watch as his brows shoot up.

A sarcastic laugh bubbles out of his throat. “Unlike you, I don’t face everything head-on. I was terrified after I kissed you, because yes I kissed you. Do you have any idea how confusing it is to realize after all these years that I’m in love with you? Then to realize that I’ve fucked up so massively that there’s zero chance of anything ever happening?” He hisses, rolling his lips into a tight line after his confession. This wasn’t how he pictured telling you, but at least it was out there now for you to hear.

Your body tenses, staring at Sanemi with wild eyes. Love? He was in love with you? It was like a slap in the face and a warm blanket at the same time. “Then fucking change my mind,” You order. 

Sanemi’s eyes widen and his throat bobs with nerves. “Y’know I love it when you get bossy,” He whispers, grabbing your face with gentle vigor. The kiss starts off soft and genuine. Your hands travel into his soft hair, moaning lightly against his lips when his hands find their way to your ass. That’s when something animalistic awakens in the both of you. Sanemi spins you around and walks you back against the wall, pressing his knee between your legs. You groan through your mouth at the lovely pressure. 

His lips work against yours, deepening the kiss into something feral and needy. “God, I want you.” You huff out between a break. You feel a cocky smirk on your neck where Sanemi nips at the junction of your shoulder. All those times you imagined the quick peck between you both was nothing compared to this. Kissing Sanemi was like pouring hot magma onto a frozen lake. Your body was alive with pinpricks of electricity. 

You peer down, shakily watching him explore the planes of your body. This was all too much. He was someone you cherished, someone you hated… someone you – was it possible for you to even love someone? You care deeply for your friends, the kids, and this camp… but love? It's something so deep, so pure that it transcends everything. Did you love Sanemi Shinazugawa or were you crushing on him? The line was thin, but at the same time a cavern impossible to jump over. “Hey hey hey, where did you drift off to?” His voice breaks you out of the daze you were in. Your eyes blink up to meet his, soft and beautiful.

His warm hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “Do you need me to stop? I got caught up in my own selfish desires…” He trails off, looking away bashfully. Huh? Was this gruff man actually…adorable? 

Leaning into his hand you shake your head. “I was just thinking about insecurities,” You laugh, meeting his gaze. Sanemi’s face softens and for once you wish your home life had been different. There were times you were grateful that what happened to you made you stronger, more resilient to people’s bullshit. Spinning it into a postive made you think less about the trauma. Now… you want to be something soft Sanemi can mold with his love. You yearn to fall into his blanketed warmth where somehow you’d be safe. “But I’m better now.” You finish, realizing all at once that it didn’t matter if you loved him, because you could love him. Love was something you were able to feel, eventually, that is. He could teach you. “Sanemi, I really like you… do you think – do you think we could continue kissing?”

An airy laugh blows through his nose as he guides you into a sitting positon on his bed. “M’course, just let me know if you want to stop.” His eyes light up micheviously, bending down to peck your lips teasingly. He sinks to his knees, sliding his hands down your outter thighs. 

Sanemi was never someone you thought would stun you into silence, but as his gaze drops to the apex of your legs it suddenly becomes hard to speak. “What? Got no smart ass response?” He glances smugly up at you, rolling his tongue over his lips. Instead of replying you spread your legs apart for him. Your action brings his longing attention back to your clothed pussy, which clamps on nothing. “Mmm, I guess your body can do enough speaking,” He hooks a finger into your shorts, pulling them down your waist. “S’pretty.” He hisses, reveling in the way your panties cling to the dampness of your cunt. “All mine,” He’s muttering to himself like a mad man and maybe he was, but it brings a flush to your cheeks. 

You squirm to fling your short to the side of his room, wiggling out of your underwear next. He watches like he’ll die if he looks away. “Sanemi I can’t hold back, please, I need you to do something.” You give him enough room to stay between your legs. His smirk worries you only slightly.

He stands, the girth of his cock outlined in his pants. “Just remember you asked for this. We’ll have plenty of time to take it slow later, but right now I can’t wait anymore either.” His eyes are a dark brooding purple as he slips the belt out of its loops smoothly. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed. Your childhood friend was about to fuck your brains out and the fact that you’d been fighting only made the tension in the room that much thicker. 

Sanemi’s cock is longer than anyone you’d been with before and you can’t seem to look away from it. How the head weeps and is blush pink with untouched desire. He’s barely holding on, but the weight of reality slaps you across the face. “Do you have a condom?” You quip and he freezes. His cheeks blush as he glances at his nightstand. 

“Can’t think why I wouldn’t pack condoms coming to a job where I’ve never had sex before…fuck. I can stop if you want to, I wouldn’t dare-”

“Sanemi, I could care less. Right now all I want is you. We’ll figure it out together.” You grab the back of his neck to bring him in for a kiss. As his lips work against yours he lines himself up at your entrance, brushing the head of his cock against the slick of your arousal. He hisses into your mouth as the tip slips into your warmth. A shaky moan echoes through both of you as you push your foreheads together to watch his cock slide into your pretty pussy. 

You blow out a breath, throwing your head back in utter bliss. Sanemi fills you out beautifully, stretching your walls just enough to send shivers up your spine. “You feel perfect…you’re perfect,” Sanemi kisses you, slowly starting to move his hips. The muscles in your stomach tense with a hot iron of pressure. 

“Haa, Sanemi, please,” You begin but he snaps his hips into yours. A loud slap of skin rattles through his room. Your eyes go wide and a sharp gasp pushes through your body. 

He grins over you, sliding back on his knees and bringing you with him. “Mmm, shh babygirl, m’gonna take care of you.” He strings your legs over his hips, rocking you on his cock. 

Moans burst from your mouth as you cling to his neck. “F’ Sanemi,” You gasp, his cock plunging deeper into your pussy than the previous postion. 

“That’s it, let go pretty girl,” Sanemi burrows into you, a fucked out grin coating his lips. You feel like you’re almost split in two, but the sting bleeds into a sharp pleasurable throb. It radiates through your core, spreading tingles across your skin. Your head lolls to the side a bolt of electricity twisting around your stomach, coating it in the crashing waves of your climax. You’re both panting as Sanemi fucks into you, gripping your hips onto him. 

The overstimulation makes you squirm on top of him, but he chaces his own crest, finally finding it when you grip the back of his head, fisting his hair. Warm cum coats your insides, Sanemi gently laying you back down on the mattress. You feel gooey inside, but there’s a silent happiness that brings a smile to your face. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I promise next time I’ll last longer- I, I…shit let me go get you a rag.” Sanemi pushes himself up on his elbows but you caress his cheek, calming the anxious glaze in his eyes. 

“No, stay.” He’d finally found you… and you weren’t about to let him out of your sight for a long long time.  

Off the Record | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, food play (with wine), fingering, squirting (first-time ayyyye), oral sex fem! receiving, raw sex, rough sex, reader gets that good stuff, cum on chest

word count: 2.4k

a/n: guys I may have an addiction to the Demon Slayer cast... will I seek help for it...? Absolutely not.

His eyes gleam with the soft glow of the light over your head. Behind him are massive windows that show the cityscape of modern-day Tokyo, the twinkling neon lights like stars you could touch. You’d always dreamed of coming into this building, but never had you thought you’d be sitting here – across from the biggest name in Japan and quite frankly, the world. 

It made your whole body buzz with child-like excitement. As an interviewer, you had to scrape by on nothing until the right opportunities presented themselves. When your boss specifically asked for you to hold the in-house interview, you knew this was your big break.

“So, Mr.Kibutsuji, the paparazzi have difficulty finding you.” He smirks, leaning back against the large couch he sat on across from you – only a table separating you from the mysterious man. 

He peers off to the side, studying a magnificent piece of artwork on his wall. “It’s because I don’t want them to.” He blinks the crimson of his eyes back on your sweet face. His answer is matter-of-fact and if he went on like this, the interview would surely be a bust. 

You laugh politely, looking down at your approved list of questions. The thumping in your chest tells you that this isn’t a good idea, but you set it firmly down on the table in front of you, grinning up at the worldwide star. “Is that so? Mind if I ask you some questions off the record?” You scoot to the edge of your seat, watching as the ravenette perks up at your question. 

It intrigued him. He asked for an inexperienced rookie to simply ask him the questions on the sheet and not pry into his carefully secluded life. Yet, here you were, the questionnaire already on the table with a perky smile on your lips. Muzan feels the corner of his mouth quirk into a grin. He blows out a breath, gesturing in a circular motion freely with one of his hands still strung across the back of the couch. “You’re going to no matter what, so why not give you what you want?” He hums, distracted by the way your knees part ever so slightly to position yourself more comfortably on his furniture. A jolt of electricity pulses through him, shocking him into meeting your intense gaze. 

Muzan Kibutsuji had spent a millennium disregarding the way women made him feel. Never had one interested him enough to break focus on his goals. Sex was something to break the silence of failure, not anything to spend his time on. But you… you were a carefully crafted complexity of sexual frustration. 

He runs his tongue along the inside of his mouth, suddenly parched for a taste of anything. The ringing of your laughter snaps him out of his daze momentarily. “Yes well, I’m known to be pushy when I want something.” 

Me too, Muzan thought. You open your mouth as if you’re about to start, but then you pause, screwing your lips shut. “Before we start, do you mind if we get something to drink? I’m dry as a mouse over here.” You mess with your fingers nervously wondering if that was the correct thing to ask. 

Muzan lifts a brow. “I was unaware mice got dry.” Nevertheless, he lifts himself off the couch. “But that is acceptable. If you’ll follow me to the kitchen?” He walks around the side of the table, offering you a hand. You gulp, tentatively putting your hand in his. 

He guides you to the kitchen island, pulling out a seat for you. You thank him with a nod of your head, gratefully climbing onto the stool. Setting down the tape recorder on the counter, you glance around the silver and white area. The kitchen is just as dim as the living room, the lack of light only making the slight brush of Muzan’s arm against your back send shivers down your spine. “I’ve always wanted to come into this building,” you blurt before cursing lightly under your breath. “Well, er, I mean to say… thank you. I’m grateful for this experience.” You ramble to cover up the embarrassing fact that you basically just admitted you’re poor. Muzan chuckles lowly, the sound rumbling around your head as he sets two wine glasses on the marble countertop. 

“Château Lafite 1869?” He lifts an expensive-looking bottle in the air. You catch a glimpse of the label, a detailed depiction of some sort of mansion with trees around it. He pours the red liquid into the cups, the noise filling the silence. When he’s done he picks both glasses up by the stem of their neck, setting one down in front of you. The aroma is divine. “My turn for a question.” Muzan leans against the lip of the island, staring into the pool of wine in his glass. He swirls it around, glancing up at you. “Just how thankful are you?” He questions.

You smile, bringing the glass to your lips and letting a bit of the wine fill your mouth. Muzan watches you with swept attention. The flavor is complex but you catch a hint of spiciness hit the back of your throat. You set the wine glass down, trying to think of a response. “You’ve done it all wrong,” Muzan’s brows are furrowed as he stalks toward you. He grabs hold of the glass, dipping his finger into it. Your eyes widen when he drags the pad of his finger along your lips. Subconsciously you part your lips, breathing shakily as you daringly dart your tongue out. 

His eyes light up like an inferno, capturing your chin his nostrils flare. “So thankful I’d do anything.” You sputter out against the hard grasp he has on your chin. He rolls his lips under his teeth, huffing out a laugh. 

His free hand grabs your ass, spinning you around on the stool so you’re straddling him. “Is that so darlin’?” He flings your head to the side, the motion making you fall against the back of the counter. “You figure you don’t have what it takes to succeed so you’ll suck my cock, is that it?” He mummers, dragging the back of his hand down your exposed neck. 

Your body heats as you narrow your eyes. “No, that not-” You shut your mouth when his gaze locks onto yours. 

His hands find their way to your thighs, pressing them apart and savoring how your skirt rids up the plush skin. “Oh come on, you even wore a skirt. You knew what you were doing. Off the record? Please, that’s so they won’t hear you screaming my name back at the office,” He squeezes the skin of your thigh, causing you to hiss out in pain. “But I can fix that.” He smirks, running his fingers over the bruised skin. 

You pant heavily as you watch him devour you with his gaze. “We,” You gasp as he somehow rips your shirt to shreds. You regard the fabric of the once nice shirt that covered your torso now falling to the floor – parts of it still clinging to your body. 

The man in front of you runs a hand through his hair, grinning at the sight before him. “That’s more like it,” He hums, plucking the clasp on your back apart, letting your bra slide down your shoulders. “By all means, if you were about to mention the interview, continue asking me questions.” He pushes further between your thighs, flicking your nipple. You groan, the sensitive bud growing stiff. Muzan scoffs. “Though I doubt you’ll be able to.” 

He gathers liquid on two of his fingers, shoving them into your mouth. You squeak at the rough plunge, but your tongue sucks around the earthy tones of the wine. “Hmm, I think I’d rather like the look of you on my counter. Up you go.” You’re being lifted suddenly onto the island. Your skirt is around your hips, the cold of the counter on your ass making you squirm around. “Spread your legs.” He instructs, inspecting how you shyly part your legs, revealing your naked pussy. He scoffs again, tilting his head with a smug expression. 

You turn your cheek against the counter, flushing with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh,” You whine, pouting as the heat of his hand traverses up your leg. 

Muzan’s fingers graze the area of your inner thigh with lecherous intent. “Don’t be embarrassed, I don’t blame you for wanting to fuck me.” Your eyes flutter shut as he draws circles around your mound, playing with your emotions like they were an appetizer. “Besides, I’m going to fuck you real good,” His fingers slide into your pussy, exploring the new area. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation. “Hmph, already so wet. You sure did come hot and slick.” He muses, using his thumb to press into your swollen clit. 

A hand clamps over your mouth as you writhe against his ministrations. “Fuck, sir-” Muzan shoves his fingers deeper, aggressively reaching for your throat. His massive hand wraps around the span of your throat, squeezing your windpipes. 

“Call me that again,” He commands, the fire in his eyes now dark and blown out. You huff out tiny breaths, nodding your head. He removes his hand slowly dragging it down your navel, before gripping the side of your thigh. His fingers curl deeper inside of you and your eyes widen. 

A panted moan falls from your lips as he continues. “Just like that, yes, please sir,” He smirks, pushing down on your clit. A yelp echoes around the kitchen at the sudden pressure. 

Muzan lavishes in the way your throat has a red ring around it, marks from him spotting your body in a gorgeous display of possession. “Such a good girl for me,” He growls, slipping his fingers into his mouth to taste your arousal. You watch him with the swell of desire wrapping its claws into your core. “What a wonderful pairing with the Rothschild.” He mutters, grabbing one of the glasses and swigging the liquid into his mouth. 

A devious grin paints his face as he lowers the glass, meeting your gaze. He tips the glass against your stomach, letting the dark red wine trickle tributaries down your greedy cunt. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up.” Muzan’s mouth is hungrily lapping at your folds, delighted noises streaming from him as he savors the taste. “Intoxicating,” He huffs, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking hard on the sensitive area. 

Your throat is sore from the way whimpering moans string together shakily. Your stomach is pulsing with a sensation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. If he didn’t stop, you felt like you might explode. “M-Muzan,” You begin, huffing out his name. He hums against your folds but doesn’t stop. “Ah, ah,” You start to shake against him, the ravenette pumping his fingers inside of you while licking your clit savagely. “F-ck, m’gonna, hngh haaa ahhh,” 

Muzan’s mouth curls deliciously as your back arches off the counter. Then, with a few bucks of your hips, wetness sprays from your pussy. You shiver as the squirting continues, your body twitching with untouched pleasure. Breathing seems impossible as Muzan licks his lips. “What a wonderful show, but unfortunately we’re still not done.” He pulls you down the counter, lining the apex of your thighs against the bulge in his pants. 

Your eyes widen, he can’t be serious. You were barely conscious after whatever just happened. Did he expect you to go all night? What was this man made of? He frees his cock, the tip slapping against your sensitive cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut. How is it that big? It didn’t feel that big when it was pressed against your thigh. Holy shit. Was he going to put that thing in you? “You’re gonna take all of it,” he begins, pushing the head against your slick. You blink open your eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows to observe his length disappear inside. A strained hiss slips past your lips, Muzan rolling his hips into yours. “Fuck, your pussy should do all our interviews from now on, damn,” He groans, digging the nails of his fingers into your flesh. “You’re gobbling me up,” He meets your gaze, a growing rhythm snapping his cock into you. You throw your head back, moaning his name like it was a prayer. He felt like he’d been doing this a lot longer than any person you’d ever been with. 

Muzan pushes his thick length further, humming in satisfaction as your walls flutter around him. You couldn’t think, all rational thought was flung out of his huge windows the moment he pulled out that bottle of wine. “Ngh, f’so good, mmmngah,” 

He finds it delightful the way your pussy grabs his cock like it wants more. You had a magnificently fucked out face, your eyes rolled back in your head as your mouth hung open. With each compression of your chest, a hoarse whine pushes back out. Frankly, it was music to his ears. So he grabs the recorder you’d set down earlier, pressing the little red button. He grins as the timer starts ticking again. “Such a good slut for me,” He muses, slapping his balls against your ass as he pounds your pretty pussy. “Your cunt is lovin’ this,” He thrusts deeper and deeper until all you can manage is mewling little noises. 

As you grow closer to your second climax, you rest your back on the counter, enjoying the way the cool stone feels against your sweaty back. “Come on darlin’, is that all you got? This why you wanted me off the record? To fuck you silent?” He chuckles, glancing at the recorder next to your trembling thighs. “What a sneaky vixen, is this how you treat all your clients mmm? Offering your pretty pussy with fluttering doe eyes?” He groans, nearing his own wash of pleasure. “Well, on the record, you belong to me now. Got it? You’re my whore whenever I want.” 

His thrusts grow rapid, burrowing his cock inside of you like his life depended on it. With this life of failure, he’d finally found something worth trying to succeed for. Muzan could feel the old vigor seeping into his veins. He pulls out, pumping his cock until a strangled moan escapes his lips, cum landing on your breasts. He’s a panting mess as he takes in what he’s done to you. A puddle of Rothschild and your arousal soaks the wood of the floor. He picks up the tape recorder, bringing it to his lips. “You hear that, Hashira scum? I made your bitch scream my name.” 

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐊𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭... ...𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞

he was sooooo fucking adorable in this movie. he's such a neville longbottom. ughhhh dave lizeweksi you make me want to faint

pairings: dave lizeweksi x fem!reader

REQUESTS: Open / Closed

TW for this section:

cussing

smut

kinks

violence

angst

ED

SA

SH

drinking

talk of body dysmorphia

discrimination

bullying

feelings of anger or sadness

these warnings are not as bad as tangerine's one so. this is just a general outlook of the types of TW's you'll see in this section, but as always, i will have the warnings labeled at the top of every fic.

i'm a little extra, so i went ahead and made a snapshot of what your camera roll would look like if you were dating dave, and i got bored so i made one of dave's camera roll too!

y/n's camera roll:

dave's camera roll:

now, without a further ado...

PRESENTING...

→ 𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐊𝐈

smut:﹗

fluff: ♡

angst: ✦

miscellanies: 𖦹

❝𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐂𝐊-𝐀𝐒𝐒?!❞

one shots:

Interrupted ﹗

mini series:

n/a for now

more is on the way!

click here to go back to NAVIGATION

❝Corruption Complete❞

Mark Grayson x Brainrot Girlfriend!Readerᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

𓊆ྀིfeat. Oliver & Debbie Grayson𓊇ྀི

˗ˏˋ 𓉘 Part 2 — ”Too Far Gone” 𓉝 ˎˊ˗

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

🦖 summary: mark’s trying to enjoy a quiet night at home. too bad his girlfriend has just discovered a new hyperfixation—and now oliver’s in on it. debbie joins next. mark’s officially outnumbered.

‪‪🦖 contains: sfw. modern brainrot. fandom jokes. long-suffering boyfriend!Mark. brainrot!reader. tiktok trends. group roasting. oliver is a smug little shit. debbie is thriving. mark just wants peace. comedic fluff, banter, affectionate roasting, domestic vibes. silly chaos.

‪‪🦖 wc: 722

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: i wrote this instead of doing literally anything productive. it started as a joke and now it’s got lore. enjoy my descent. also, yes—i know, the title is 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

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It started innocently enough.

You were sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to your phone, tears streaming down your face as you watched an AI-generated TikTok video.

“Mark—Mark, look!” You shoved your phone in his face. It almost smacked him in the nose, but it’s fine. He’s literally [Title Card].

Moving on.

He squinted at the screen. “Is that… a cat in a firefighter uniform?”

“Yes! It’s so tragic and inspiring. The kitten was rescued from a fire, grew up to become a firefighter, and then died heroically saving a child. And—listen to this—it reunited with its grandma in the afterlife.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You cried over an AI-generated cat video?”

“It’s not just a video, Mark. It’s art.”

➽─────────❥

The descent into chaos was swift.

A few days later, Oliver burst into the living room (nearly crashing into a wall), eyes wide with excitement.

“Have you seen the ‘Ballerina Cappuccina’ trend?!” he blurted, practically vibrating.

You gasped, sitting up. “Yes! The one with the cappuccino-headed ballerina pirouetting into the void?”

Oliver nodded vigorously. “It’s peak brainrot.”

Mark groaned from the kitchen. “Not you too, Oliver.”

“It’s a cultural movement, Mark.” Oliver said, deadpan.

Not even ten minutes later, real chaos began…..Debbie’s curiosity was piqued.

She entered the kitchen, holding her phone while pursing her lips.

“Kids, what’s this ‘Bombardino Crocodilo’ thing?”

You and Oliver made eye contact, then—without speaking—played the audio simultaneously: “FORZA BOMBA!”

Debbie blinked. Then looked at Mark—who didn’t even look up, just slumped lower against the cabinets like the universe was personally attacking him.

“Well, that’s… something.”

➽─────────❥

A quiet evening turned into a bonding session.

With Mark and Oliver out training because let’s be real—that boy needs some serious teaching, you and Debbie settled on the couch. She sipped her wine, a mischievous glint in her eye like she’s about to drop a bomb.

“You know,” Debbie says casually, “Nolan once gave me a whole tree instead of flowers.”

You blink, taking your eyes off the TV. “Like… an actual tree?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘Why bring a branch when I can bring the whole organism?’”

“I kept it,” she says. “Still in the backyard. Useless man, but decent taste in flora.”

You clutch your heart. “That’s the bar. If Mark doesn’t deliver a redwood to my house within 72 hours, we’re over.”

As if summoned Mark walks back into the house with snacks and an expression of pure betrayal. “I brought you chips.”

“Does the chip bag photosynthesize?” you ask sweetly.

➽─────────❥

The ‘Pass the Phone’ challenge ensued.

Feeling strangely inspired (which should’ve been a red flag), you declared: “Let’s do the ‘Pass the Phone’ challenge!”

Everyone agreed way too quickly.

You started the recording. “I’m passing the phone to someone who still doesn’t understand TikTok.”

Mark raised a brow, sighed like a man defeated, and took the phone. “I’m passing the phone to someone who’s been on TikTok for five minutes and already has a fan club.”

He passed it to Oliver.

The purple boy—who was just happy to be here—beamed straight up at the phone screen. “I’m passing the phone to someone who once received a tree as a romantic gesture!”

He hands it to Debbie, who only laughs.

“Guilty as charged.”

➽─────────❥

╒════════════════𝜗𝜚

ACTUAL QUOTES FROM THE EVENING:

➥ „I swear to god if you post that TikTok—”

➥ „Too late. It’s already at 40k views. You’re famous now, tragedy boy.”

➥ „You said you wouldn’t bring up Amber! And—why are people simping over my MUM!”

➥ „Because she’s a baddie, Mark.”

ꪆৎ════════════════╛

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•∘˙○˚.⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨🐊୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ∘˙○˚.•

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Mark stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching his mom and little brother conspire with you over delusional fan theories and imaginary men.

“…I want in,” he said.

Everyone froze.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I’m tired of fighting it. I need to understand the brainrot. Teach me your ways.”

Oliver threw his arms in the air. “HE’S CONVERTING.”

Debbie raised her wineglass. “To the dark side.”

You grinned, scooting over and patting the space beside you. “Welcome to hell, babe. First lesson—rank these fictional men based on how they would treat you.”

Mark sighed. “I already regret this.”

“You will,” you promised. “Now take this blanket. We’re about to watch a seven-part edit of Tim Cheese killing John Pork.”

“…and no, you can’t ask questions.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ With Love, @alive-gh0st

❝Always You❞

Mark Grayson x Childhood Friend!Reader ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

-ˋˏ❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀ˎˊ-

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

❀ summary: you showed up uninvited, made his dad question all his life (and facial hair) choices, and never left. now you’re older, hotter, still annoying—and mark? very much in love. congrats.

❀ contains: sfw. childhood friends to lovers. slow-burn vibes. emotionally repressed!reader. soft!mark. reader has a difficult home life. light trauma but make it casual. fluff, banter and comedic tension. mark grayson being stupid-in-love.

❀ wc: 1899

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌a/n: first time posting just to feed y’all some mark grayson fluff.

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You don’t remember exactly how you ended up in the Graysons’ house that first day.

You’d only just moved in next door, and your mom was already yelling about boxes. The man she was with—this week’s guy—smelled like beer, sweat, and no patience.

So you left.

Well… not really, but something along those lines.

You wandered down the sidewalk barefoot, dragging your backpack behind you, until you spotted a house that looked safe. Lived-in. Rich. You rang the doorbell like it owed you something.

Debbie Grayson opened the door, took one look at your face, and smiled. “Hi there, sweetheart. You okay?”

You didn’t answer. Just walked right past her like you belonged there.

Mark was on the floor with a comic book. He looked up, mouth half-open.

You pointed at his dad. “Is that mustache glued on, or is it a punishment?”

Nolan nearly dropped his coffee. Debbie choked on a laugh. Mark blinked, unsure whether to be offended or amazed.

You were five.

By the end of the day, you were sitting cross-legged on their carpet, eating cookies like you’d always been there. You told Nolan he “sounded like a guy on TV,” which earned another chuckle from Debbie and a long sigh from the man.

By the end of the week, you were staying over so often Debbie started keeping a toothbrush for you.

By the end of the month, you were helping Mark build Lego towers in his room—then immediately yelling at Nolan for knocking them over “on purpose.”

(He did. He 100% did. Nolan Grayson, Earth’s strongest man, had personal beef with a five-year-old and no shame about it.)

And before long, Mark couldn’t remember a life where you weren’t in it.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Being around you was chaos wrapped in kindness.

You’d stick your tongue out at Mark and Nolan the second Debbie turned her back, then curl into her side during movie nights like you were her own kid.

You terrified Nolan with the things you said—adult questions in a child’s voice, bold and unfiltered. Like asking, “If you flew into space too fast, would your brain explode?” Or, more memorably: “Do aliens poop?”

“Enough,” Nolan muttered one night after your fifth question. “You’re worse than a Pentagon interrogation.”

“But I’m cuter,” you argued, and Debbie nodded like that settled the matter.

You were nine when you figured out Omni-Man’s identity.

You’d been watching the news over cereal, Mark beside you, both in matching Grayson hand-me-downs.

With squinted eyes at the screen, you groaned in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s your dad’s disguise? I can recognize that ugly mustache from space.”

Mark froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Wait, what?”

“Dude, it’s so obvious.”

You didn’t even flinch when Nolan walked in seconds later, fully suited up but holding his slippers like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning,” you said sweetly. “Nice cape.”

Nolan grunted and turned on the coffee maker without a comment.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Debbie adored you. Nolan, surprisingly, respected you—maybe because you always challenged him without fear. And Mark? Mark had someone who understood him without even trying.

Your home life, though, was never something you talked about.

It wasn’t bad, not technically, but it didn’t feel like a home. The yelling never stopped. The guys came and went. You learned early not to ask questions, and that silence was safer.

So you stopped asking.

But one night—when you were eleven—you showed up at Mark’s window with bruises on your arms and dirt on your knees. You didn’t say anything. Just climbed inside and curled up next to him on the bed.

He didn’t say anything either.

He just pulled the blanket over you and let you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

After that, the Graysons stopped asking if you were coming over. It was just assumed.

That’s how it always was.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

By middle school, the two of you were inseparable. You walked to class together, bickered over who got to name the group projects, and ganged up on anyone who tried to mess with either of you.

One day, in the cafeteria, some eighth grader bumped into you hard enough to knock your tray.

“Watch it,” he sneered, clearly expecting you to back off.

You looked him dead in the eyes while tilting your head innocently. “Try that again and I’ll make sure you’re crapping Jell-O for a week.”

The kid blinked.

Mark stepped in beside you. “She means that in a… non-lethal way.”

“Do I?” you asked.

Mark turned to you, deadpan. “Can you not threaten to rearrange someone’s insides with pudding in front of the lunch monitors?”

You gave him a shrug. “No promises.”

People thought you’d grow apart in high school. That Mark would change. That you would change.

But you never gave him the chance to drift. You clung—stubbornly, fiercely—like you knew if you let go, something in you would unravel. And Mark never wanted to be anywhere else anyway.

High school didn’t change you much. If anything, you just got bolder.

Mark got taller. You got sharper. People asked if you were dating. You both said no.

But neither of you looked too convinced when you did.

You still wore his hoodies. He still shared his fries with you without asking. You stole his blankets. He carried an extra charger in his bag just in case you forgot yours.

He never forgot your birthday. You never missed a single one of his baseball games.

It wasn’t just friendship. Not really.

Not with the way you rolled your eyes at affection from anyone else but melted instantly when Mark laid his head on your shoulder.

Not when you’d fight with him one minute and be curled up against him the next, hoodie sleeves too long, fingers grazing his under the blanket.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Mark watched you far more than he should’ve.

He noticed the way your laugh cracked just a little when you were too tired.

The way you hugged too hard, like you were making sure someone stayed.

The way you’d stand between him and anyone who dared to mouth off—like you were the one with superpowers.

He didn’t need to know the exact moment he fell in love with you. For him—it was always there, he just hadn’t been smart enough to understand.

Maybe it was that one day when you were watching cartoons on the floor, and Mark was pretending not to stare at you. You turned to him, grinning, and said something dumb like, “You’d probably get beat up in a real fight.”

But your eyes were soft.

He smiled back, and thought, God, it’s always been you.

But he never told you. Not really.

Because every time he almost did, you’d turn away. Or laugh. Or call him something close enough to a slur and throw popcorn at his face.

Maybe that was your armor. Or maybe it was his fear.

Either way, the words never made it out.

So he held onto them in silence. Carried them like bruises from a fight—but these ones never quite healed. Let them bleed out slowly over the years through lingering glances, soft touches, and unspoken understanding.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You were sixteen when he nearly told you.

It was late. You’d been watching horror movies with you curled up against him, almost half-asleep.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“You know I—I really—uh, care about you, right?”

You cracked one eye open. “Mark, if this is your weird way of trying to tell me you love me, just do it.”

His breath hitched.

You snorted. “Relax. You’re too chicken to actually say it.”

“Am not.”

”Then say it.”

He paused.

You reached over, poked his cheek, and mumbled, “Didn’t think so.”

And then you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of how badly his heart was racing.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Even now, sitting in his room, you’re stretched across his bed with a random comic forgotten beside you, legs tangled in his blanket like you own the place.

(Because you kind of do—not that he’d give you the satisfaction of knowing that.)

Mark watches you from his desk chair, ’Seance Dog’ comic in hand, but he’s not reading a word.

“You’re staring again,” you mutter from his bed, cheek half-squished against his pillow, voice muffled and judgmental.

“I am not,” Mark lies—incredibly unconvincingly.

You glance over with one brow raised. “You always stare when you’re thinking something gross.”

“It’s not gross!”

“So it is something.”

“…Maybe.”

You sit up, stretching your arms overhead with a dramatic yawn. “If you’re about to tell me you’ve been in love with me since we were, like, eight, just say it. Don’t do the weird broody stare like you’re in some CW drama.”

Mark blinks. “I mean… okay, not since eight. But maybe since… twelve?”

You blink at him.

Then before he can overthink like always—you let out a long, theatrical sigh and flop back dramatically again. “Ugh. Finally.”

Mark startles. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” You shoot him a lopsided grin. “Do you know how annoying it is being the only one aware of the mutual pining in this room? I’ve been carrying this ship on my BACK.”

Mark’s mouth opens. Closes. “Wait—you like me?”

“I’m literally lying in your bed, wearing your hoodie, and insulting you in front of your anime figurines. What do you think?”

“…Okay, that’s fair.”

You pause. Then smirk. “So… now what?”

Mark thinks for a second, then shrugs. “I mean, I could kiss you, but I’m 99% sure you’d just roast me for it.”

You hum. “Depends. Are you going to do that thing where you hesitate awkwardly and make a weird-ass face?”

Mark throws a pillow at you.

You cackle, catching it midair. “I’m kidding, dumbass. Come here.”

And when he does—grinning like a total idiot, heart thudding like he’s about to leap off a building for the first time—you tug him forward by the collar of his hoodie and kiss him first.

It’s warm, a little clumsy, way too long overdue.

And when you pull back, breathless and smug, grinning against his mouth—whispering, “Took you long enough, Grayson.”

Mark laughs, his cheeks tinted pink.

His fingers are still in your hair.

And for the first time in years, his heart feels lighter than air.

Because he’s always been watching you.

But now, finally—you’re looking back at him the same way.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

-ˋˏ❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀ˎˊ-

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Later, as you both lay tangled in blankets and shared warmth, Mark breaks the silence.

“…Do you think my dad knew?”

The question lingers in the air, and your mind drifts back to the old days—the easier ones—before your eyes open.

You blink up at the ceiling. “That you’re in love with me? Yeah. He always knew.”

Mark groans. “Debbie probably has a betting pool going.”

“She does,” you say without hesitation. “Amber’s in on it too. I think William’s the bookie.”

Mark gapes at you. “Are you serious?”

You grin, smug. “Dead serious. I’m pretty sure I just made someone twenty bucks.”

Mark buries his face in the pillow. “God.”

Patting his back, mock-comfortingly, you snort under your breath. “Don’t worry. You’re still the last one to find out.”

“…That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

And somewhere in the house, Debbie smiles to herself in the kitchen, sipping her wine like she didn’t just win her own bet.

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌With Love, @alive-gh0st

Lol, I was bored.. Btw Buff y/n is 18. She is taller than Neteyam but she is shorter than Ao’nung.

Baby Girl | Q&A

The characters have been through a lot, and now they’re ready to answer your burning questions. Whether you’re curious about their pasts, their wildest thoughts, or just want to know what’s going through their heads in the moment, drop your questions below or in my inbox and see what they have to say. No question is too big, too small, or too weird! So, what are you waiting for? Ask away!

Baby Girl

Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader

Synopsis: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?

Warnings: fluff, talks of child abandonment, single father JK, angst, arguments, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), light spanking, hair pulling, make outs, kissing, fingering, clit play, clit stimulation, teasing, pet names, mentions of past relationships, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, blonde!jungkook, talks of past pregnancy (not reader), mention of abortion (JK’s ex), sexual tension, alcohol consumption, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, swearing, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, protected sex, rough and soft sex, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms 

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“Why are you trying to feed Sara the crayon!” You squealed from your spot behind your desk, swiftly approaching the small circle table holding the kids before taking the purple crayon from Ara’s tiny hands. The small girl’s large brown eyes stared back at you, a smile breaking out onto her lips as she began giggling and babbling about the drawing she made for her dad.

“Look! Daddy has a pur..pur-el shirt cebause he love pur-el!” Ara pointed excitedly to the shirt she drew on her stickfigure, pride glowing in her eyes. 

Your smile grew as your grip around the crayon loosened, placing it back down on the table, crouching between her and Sara’s little chairs. “Now that’s gorgeous, Ara! Your dad is gonna love it so much, but how about we stop trying to feed our friends crayons?” She giggled, agreeing before going back to her art. It was true, Ara’s dad, Jeon Jungkook, treasured every single thing she made for him. Every time she would run up to him after school, hands reaching up to him with a new little project every day. One day it was a flower that had things we were grateful for written on the petals, other days it was just a little drawing she made, or it was a seasonal art project. And she never failed to tell you all about his reactions the next day.

Every day you would watch all your students run to their parents coming to pick them up at lunch, most stopped to say ‘Hi’ or ask how their kid was doing - Jungkook never did that. It seemed odd at first, wanting to meet your student’s dad to introduce yourself and get acquainted was a normal thing most teachers did. However, you started noticing pretty early on he hung out near the back of the group of parents that waited near the doors, waiting for Ara, getting her, and then looking at you with a little smile before leaving. Why did he do that? The small pleas for help to get their coats on before the bell filled your classroom, the children still mingling and talking, some cleaning up their tables, but most ready to up and leave as the bell rings. After making sure all the kids had their belongings, you told them to line up, “One, two, three! Eyes on me!” You called out, watching all their little bug eyes look back at you. The small action made a smile spread across your face each time - how could it not? There are about fifteen pairs of eyes that look at you at the same time, with the same little focused expression. It’s impossible not to smile!

Everyone crowded at the door, talking in soft whispers as they waited for you to open it and let them run off to their parents. You let the children run in different directions, enjoying the happy chatter around you as people began leaving. Just as you were about to head into the school again, you felt a little tug on your sleeve, making you look down. “ Miss L/n, daddy’s not here…”

Her little voice trailed off and it instantly made you go into protective mode. You crouched in front of her, holding her small hand as you observed how her big boba eyes got glossy and her little button nose got red. It was a rare sight seeing Ara cry, she almost never did in your class unless it was something truly meaningful to her. “Shh, it’s okay, Ara. Your dad probably got caught up in something! How about we wait here until he arrives, hm?” You offered, wiping away the small tears that dropped down her cheeks, her head nodding softly as you stood up and held her hand outside. 

Twenty minutes pass and nothing. It was unlike Jungkook to be late, every day you could see his car park in the same spot under a tree, getting out and adjusting his jacket before taking a few steps…then pausing beside his car to lock it three times. Now that you think about it, you sound kinda stalker-ish with how much attention you pay to him. The air started getting cooler, so you took Ara back inside the classroom, thankful that you had an hour break before your afternoon class showed up. “Are you warm? You can take your jacket off, Ara. Do you want some paper to draw?”

Her head was tilted down as she sat in her normal seat near the cozy corner you had set up for your students, not really answering your questions. “Did daddy leave me?” She asked, her tiny fingers picking at her other ones as she asked.

Sourness filled your heart as you heard her question, you pulled out the small chair beside her, tilting your head to see her face. “Honey, of course he didn’t leave you. He’s just running late for some reason. Why would you think that?” 

“Mommy did…” Her words were cut off by sudden footsteps approaching the class quickly, a man hunched over huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, still gasping for air as he approached us, kneeling down on her other side.

Her mom left? You stood up, straightening out your cardigan as you stared down at the man pressing his forehead against Ara’s jacket covered arm. “Ara, I’m sorry, daddy had to close up the shop cause your uncles weren’t there. I’m sorry, bug.” Wow, he apologized a lot, even though Ara had already probably forgotten about what happened. Her bright little smile was there again, brightening the room as his large…tattooed hand caressed the opposite arm. 

“Daddy! Look what I made!” Ara exclaimed, showing her dad her little portrait of her and her dad, wearing his purple shirt.

“Wow, I love it, baby girl! It’s so me. You know where this is going?” The way they both said “on the fridge” at the exact same time would make any woman’s ovaries burst. It was too cute! Ara’s dad stood up, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants before looking at you, staring blankly before his eyes widened and a hand was out stretched. “Sorry! I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! Ara’s dad, cause she has the same last name as me, but not only that reason! Her mom and I-” He stopped, his cheeks tinting a light red as you grasped his hand, shaking it with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna stop talking before I make it worse.”

“No, no, please. I always enjoy hearing about how parents are related to their child.” You laughed, releasing his hand again - eyes gleaming from the way his cheeks darkened in colour again. “It’s honestly okay, Mr. Jeon. Ara and I had a feeling something came up at work and that’s why you were late.”

The sigh of relief that escaped him must have been in him for a while, his whole body relaxing a little more after you said that. “Thank you for looking after her. This won’t happen again, at all. Uhm..Ms…?”

“Oh! Sorry, Y/n. Y/n L/n, Ara’s teacher. Since she’s in my class.” You over explained just like he did, thankfully he had a sense of humor since he let out a soft breathy laugh. “Again, don’t worry at all, I understand. Things happen sometimes.” You eased him, smiling gently as he grabbed Ara’s little hand, helping her out of her chair.

“Yeah…but thank you…still.” He said one last time, leaning down to pick his daughter up before propping her on his hip. Her little hand went to his hair immediately, tugging softly as he pulled his head away, smiling at her. They left the room, chatting softly as he walked back down the hall to exit through the front office. Sitting at your desk, you opened your computer, preparing your slideshow for your afternoon class on how to make a pretty sunset with pastels, but the only thing you could think about…

He had really pretty hair.

______________________________________________________________

“Wait, wait, wait- rewind. You’re telling me that you were face to face with a DILF and did nothing?!” Rose practically yelled as you walked together down the hall towards the parking lot.

“Okay, let’s not call him that…he’s still the father of my student. It feels wrong calling him something so…vulgar?” You squeemed while fumbling for your keys. “Plus, what was I supposed to do? His kid was right there, it’s not like I could’ve just jumped his bones right there.”

She glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk on her lips as she grabbed her own keys out of her bag. “Well, I’m just saying, maybe he would’ve been into that. Having you get all up on him, nice and close and just-” You shoved her away playfully, laughing as you watched her mimic some sort of makeout session. 

“There is no way that would've happened! Again, Rose, you’re forgetting this was the first time I’ve ever actually talked to the guy. It’s not like some magical thing is gonna happen to make us instantly fall in love.” She pushed open the doors to the front office, a shiver running down your spine as the cool breeze hit your face. You unlocked your car, standing by the driver’s door as you spoke again. “This is real life, not some romance book that’s gonna have me sweeped off my feet by the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a dismissive hand, opening her car door before poking her head out again. “I’m just saying, it’s been a while for you since you’ve dated, so why not try out the awkward, DILF of a dad?”

“Have a good night, Rose.”

All you could hear was her laughter as you got in and closed your own door. 

______________________________________________________________

Mondays are the worst.

It’s almost like a sick joke - you wake up and feel like it’s gonna be a productive day, but instead, your makeup looked trashy, your favourite shirt that you were supposed to wear today had a stain on it, your coffee machine was broken, and your car wouldn’t start for a good twenty minutes.

So yeah, it’s a lovely day.

“I am so sorry, Rose! Thank you for watching over my class, I swear I’ll be there soon.” You rambled quickly, looking both ways on the road before taking a left.

“Girl, relax, it’s okay. Could you pick me up a coffee though? Didn’t have time to make my own today.” You could hear her shuffling around, probably in your desk to find the spelling sheets you had ready for your students.

“Of course, I was gonna pick one up anyway.” Your voice came out as a murmur, trying to focus on the road so you didn’t add another problem to your list of issues today.

There was some sort of sound that came from her side of the call, something between a hum and squeal of delight. “There’s one coffee place that’s not too far from the school, The Quiet Bean, reaaaaally cute place!”

The Quiet Bean? People are getting creative nowadays…After a few more minutes of talking - you telling her what she should start the kids on, and her telling you where the shop is - you finally hung up. Plugging in the address of the coffee shop, you pulled up to a small shop. It was the sort of place that invited you in without making a scene. Its façade was a blend of weathered brick and soft, taupe-painted wood, the kind that had aged gracefully, like it had stories to tell. The large windows were framed in simple, cream-colored trim, their panes reflecting the faintest light of the afternoon sun. A faint trace of ivy crept up along the edges, as if nature itself had taken a liking to this quiet little corner of the world.

The café’s sign hung above the door, a modest wooden board with the name The Quiet Bean painted in elegant, flowing script. The letters, accented by a small, delicate illustration of a steaming coffee cup, as though to beckon you inside with the promise of something warm and comforting. It wasn’t flashy, but there was something undeniably welcoming about it, something that whispered of calm moments and good company.

As you stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender and earth drifted from a row of mismatched flower boxes, their colors a soft mix of greens and purples. Small, bistro-style tables were scattered outside, their wrought-iron chairs empty for now, but ready to welcome anyone looking to enjoy the sun with a cup in hand. 

Pulling the door open, you were met with a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Your eyes widened as you looked around, taking in the detail of the shop and taking note of every little detail that was put into building it. You slowly approached the counter, eyes trained on the display of sweets. God, they looked delicious. It was as if everywhere you turned there was something new you noticed - now, it was the simple yet captivating writing on the menu board that hung above the counter. Why was writing captivating you? Nevermind. 

You glanced around, a few people were sitting at tables, enjoying a warm coffee with a sweet treat, but no one behind the counter. Your brows furrowed softly, tilting your head to try and see if someone was lingering behind the walkway to the back of the coffee shop, but there was no one. You reached forward, tapping the small bell that sat beside one of the pastry display cases, the high pitched shrill sound making you jump slightly. 

A guy, wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron quickly rounded the corner. His blonde hair tied into a small bun as he looked up. Those eyes…the wide doe ones that seemed all too familiar. The ones that held the universe…where had you seen them before? “Welcome to The Quiet Bea-” The man’s voice cut off as he stood there staring at you, his round eyes widening slightly. “M-Ms. Y/n…what…you’re…”

It clicked. Those eyes, the ones you have to look at every single day, the same ones Ara had. “Mr. Jeon, it’s…uhm, hello.” Why was this so embarrassing? This was just like when you saw a teacher outside of school and didn’t know how to act. Holy hell. “Sorry…sorry, good morning.”

His cheeks tinted a light pink, the sound of him clearing his throat sounded through the small cafe, you watched him cringe from the sound. “G-Good morning…I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…never mind.” He shook his head, a few strands of his blonde hair framing his face as he approached the cash register. “What can I get for you?”

“Just two lattes please.” You smiled, gaze wandering off to the side as you eyed the pastries again. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, causing you to freeze and Jungkook to glance up at you from the register. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward on the counter, a small tilt to his head. “Did you maybe want some food, too? Our pistachio croissants are really good, if I do say so myself.”

Now it was your turn to turn pink, a sheepish smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “I’ll take two of those, too, please.” He nodded, a smile still lingering on his face as he used the tons to grab out two of the fresh croissants. Placing the bag on the counter, he turned his back to you as he started on the coffees. 

As you stood there, it was hard not to notice how wide his back was. It was the perfect size to his waist which was - surprisingly - small. And not to mention the way his shirt hugged his chest and torso, there was practically nothing left for the imagination, there was even a teasingly small amount of tattoos shown that littered his right hand, and you just knew there were more. Maybe Mondays aren't so bad. I mean, you got to see that perfect ass- okay, no. Stop it! That is still your student's dad!

He turned around, two coffees in hand as he placed them on the counter, tapping something into the register before telling you your total. You pulled out your card, tapping it on the card machine before situating yourself to grab everything. “Uh…I don’t mean to be, like, that one parent…but why is the teacher of my daughter here getting coffee when school has already started?”

“Oh, so you were one of the kids that was always on time to class.” You said with a small smile, looking down into your wallet as you placed your card back into its proper place. “I was having a bad morning, running late. But my friend, who’s a teacher as well, is watching over my class. She wanted a coffee.” You wiggled your finger at the cup, a smile on your face that wouldn’t go away for some reason. 

It was impossible not to giggle at the way his brows furrowed and his bottom lip pouted from your comment. “I was not ‘one of those kids.’” He crossed his arms, looking at you as you grabbed the coffees and bag that held your pastries. “If it means anything…I hope you have a better day.” His voice was like honey, something so sweet, you never wanted it to disappear. 

“Thank you…I hope the same for you, Mr. Jeon.”

“Please, call me Jungkook!” Even his smile was sweet…fuck.

Just as you were about to exit the shop, you turned, using your back to push the door open. “Alright then, Jungkook. And call me, Y/n…I’m not your teacher.” Your last words left him going red again, and to your unease, it was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing again.  ______________________________________________________________

As the warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your classroom, casting a comforting glow over the tidy rows of desks, Rose settled into the chair across from you, a concerned expression etched on her face. The air was filled with the faint scent of chalk and the distant hum of the air conditioning vent.

"Y/n, you're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Rose asked, her voice gentle but probing. You hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag as you took a bite of your croissant. Damn they were good. They were alone in the classroom during their lunch break, the door locked securely behind them.

Rose's eyes narrowed as she watched your flustered movements. "Come on, spill it," she urged, her voice a gentle coaxing. You took another bite, your eyes avoiding Rose's inquiring gaze. "It's just...I saw Jungkook at the coffee shop this morning…Ara’s dad," you mumbled around a mouthful of food, eyes darting back to Rose.

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "That coffee shop? Where you got our lattes?" You nodded, your cheeks flushing. Rose's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "So you saw Hot DILF again?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, hastily causing you to look around the room as if ensuring they were truly alone. "Rose, please, don't say that out loud," You whispered, voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. Rose chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What's wrong? You're not going to date him, are you?" It was almost as if this was the day you couldn’t stop blushing. Your face turned bright red as you hastily shook her head, your ponytail bobbing in time. "Of course not, I'm just...I'm just saying, he's a great guy, from what I’ve seen, but...but it's just a rule, you know?" Your words tumbled out in a rush, your voice growing more agitated by the second.

Rose's expression turned to understanding, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on your arm. "I get it, I really do. You've always said no to dating single parents, and I respect that. But...it's just so hard when you're around him, isn't it?" Your eyes dropped, looking away, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and longing.

Rose's gentle words hung in the air, and you felt your heart racing as you tried to process her emotions. You couldn't deny it - you had felt a flutter in her chest when you saw Jungkook, and it wasn't just because you were worried about being professional around him. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and rationalize your feelings.

"I don't know, Rose," You said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...he's really nice, and easy to talk to...it's just hard to ignore the fact that he's Ara’s dad."

Rose nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I know, I know. And it's not like you can just...ignore the fact that he's cute, either," she added with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to deflect the attention from your flustered state. "Yeah, real help, Rose. You're not making this any easier for me."

Rose laughed, her eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, sorry. I just want you to be happy, and if that means being around Mr. Hot DILF...I mean, Jungkook...then so be it."

A smile spread across your face, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at her words. "Thanks, Rose. You're a good friend."

As they chatted, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook's warm smile and gentle laugh. You pushed the thoughts away, reminding yourself of the rule and the reasons behind it. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you had crossed a line, and that your attraction to Jungkook was more than just a harmless infatuation.

The lunch bell rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere in the classroom. As they made their way to the classroom door, Rose leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, Y/n? Just out of curiosity...what do you think would happen if you did date him?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, and you quickly shot Rose a warning glance. "Rose, don't even say that. I already told you I'm not going to date him, so let's just drop it, okay?"

Rose held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No more talking about Jungkook. Let's just focus on surviving through the day and parent-teacher interviews. How ‘bout that?"

You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards your friend. "Sounds like a plan to me."

______________________________________________________________

The faint echo of footsteps grew louder in the quiet hallway as you straightened up at your desk, glancing at the clock. The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the classroom filled with colorful student artwork. It was the night of parent-teacher interviews, and your heart raced in anticipation and anxiety. Each appointment was a gateway to success and growth, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you faced the sight of a certain single father…again.

As you set out fresh papers and a cup of coffee—mostly meant to ward off your own nerves—you tried to shake off the flutter twisting in your stomach. You had told Rose you wouldn’t get involved with parents, yet here you were, feeling exhilaratingly torn between professionalism and a sudden spike of anticipation.

The gentle knock on the door pulled you from your swirl of thoughts. “Come in!” you called, your voice steadying to mask your racing heart. The knob turned, and Jungkook stepped inside, his tall figure silhouetted against the hallway light. He looked slightly rumpled in a casual white fisherman’s sweater and jeans, as if he had just finished a long day balancing work and parenting. His sandy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an endearing boyishness.

“Hi, Y/n,” Jungkook said softly, his voice low and a little shy. He shifted between his feet, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, you felt as though the air in the room thickened with something—tension, attraction, or perhaps, an endless stream of unspoken words.

“Hi, Jungkook! Thank you for coming,” You replied, trying to maintain the professional tone you’d rehearsed in your mind. “Please, have a seat.”

He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the chair opposite your desk, glancing around the room and admiring the colorful projects that adorned the walls. “It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place. Ara talks about it all the time,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face that lit up his eyes. 

As you reviewed Ara’s progress report, you couldn’t help but feel Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, like a gentle warmth wrapping around you. “She’s doing wonderfully, really. She’s bright, creative, and so full of energy,” You continued, your voice flowing with professional ease.

“That’s great to hear,” Jungkook replied, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk. “I mean… I worry about her sometimes, you know? Juggling everything has been—” He paused, biting his lip slightly as if searching for the right words. “—hard. But she loves coming to school.”

In that moment, you could see the affection etched on his face. His love for Ara was so palpable, so tender, that it made your heart swell. “You’re doing an amazing job as a father,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself. 

A flush crept into Jungkook's cheeks, and he chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I still feel like I have so much to learn,” he said, glancing away, his honesty disarming you. 

“I think it’s a continuous journey for all parents,” You replied, forcing yourself to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his vulnerability. You forced herself to focus on Ara’s achievements, highlighting the areas where she could improve.

Yet with each laugh Jungkook shared, with each genuine word of praise he offered about his daughter, you found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. The chemistry crackled between them, threatening to bridge the gap of professionalism that you had once held sacred. 

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you do,” Jungkook said suddenly, a sincere expression on his face. “I feel like Ara has blossomed since she started in your class.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook,” You spoke softly, heart racing as you met his gaze. “It’s my job and my passion.”

He leaned back in the chair, taking a moment before asking softly, “But what about you? Do you… do you enjoy being a teacher?”

You nodded, feeling a stirring inside you—a mix of admiration and a desire for connection that you fought to suppress. “I really do,” you confessed. “It's a rewarding experience, but...” You hesitated for a moment, knowing your feelings threatened to slip from your grasp. “It can be challenging at times.”

“Yeah, life can be tough,” Jungkook replied, his voice low. “But I guess we all find our way through it.”

Their eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you felt an electric jolt, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as quickly, you pulled yourself back, focusing instead on the paperwork scattered across your desk.

“I believe Ara will continue to thrive under your guidance,” Jungkook said, attempting to break the growing tension.

“Absolutely,” You agreed, feeling the flicker of excitement mingled with anxiety. “If you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Jungkook smiled, the warmth in his expression making your pulse quicken, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as reality settled back in. They were from two different worlds, tethered by the innocent bond of a daughter between them, and you knew you had to tread carefully.

“Thank you for your time,” Jungkook finally said, rising from his seat, his voice a blend of gratitude and something softer, like an unexpressed hope. “I really appreciate it.”

As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of longing and resolve. “You’re welcome, Jungkook. Have a great evening,” You managed to say, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings and the sensation of his presence lingering in the room long after he had gone. 

With a sigh, you sank back into your chair, trying to reclaim your professional demeanor, fully aware that this was only the beginning of a journey you had carefully set herself against. And yet, without a doubt, it felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

The echo of Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hallway as you sat back in your chair, staring blankly at the stack of papers on your desk. The soft, dim light of the classroom wrapped around you like a cocoon, but instead of feeling comforted, your thoughts spiraled into chaotic disarray. Your heart still raced at the memory of his shy smile and the way his gaze warmed you, sending unexpected flutters coursing through your chest. 

“Okay, Y/n. Let’s think this through,” you murmured to yourself, pushing your chair back a bit to pace. You took a deep breath, holding your head high as you began your internal debate, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

Pros:

1. He’s Kind: Jungkook showed genuine concern for Ara’s well-being; that spoke volumes about his character.

2. He’s a Good Father: Seeing how much he adored his daughter made your heart melt. A man who values family is definitely an attractive trait.

3. We Have Chemistry: The connection was palpable during your meeting, the kind that sent thrills of excitement coursing through you.

Cons:

1. He’s Ara’s Father: You would always have that complex dynamic, which could complicate everything. What if things went wrong? The relationship with Ara would be at stake.

2. Professional Boundaries: As a teacher, you reminded yourself constantly of the boundaries that existed between you and the parents. Getting involved with a parent could lead to gossip and drama.

3. Could She Actually Do This? You didn’t want to enter the dating world and find yourself getting hurt. There was so much at stake, and discretion was key. 

The rhythm of your footsteps quickened, your thoughts tumbling into a whirlwind of confusion. 

“No, no, no.” You held her temples, trying to massage away the tension that gnawed at you. “You can’t think like this. You would be crossing a line, Y/n. Your job is to inspire and educate, not fall for the parents!” 

You paused, catching your breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “But—what if this is something special?” An involuntary smile sneaked onto your face at the thought of Jungkook’s easy laughter, the way he nervously fidgeted in his chair, and the sincere glances he offered. “What if…he’s different?”

Your heart raced again, and you bit your lip, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. You have dedicated yourself to your career. You loved teaching and the bonds you created with your students. But you also felt the longing for companionship, for someone who would truly understand your heart, your struggles, and your dreams.

You found your way back to the desk, grabbing the paper you had written notes on about Ara. It was filled with nothing but good observations and bright notes that showcased the little girl’s personality. “This is about Ara, too,” you whispered, glancing at the portrait Ara had drawn of you standing beside her at the school. You had never looked better as a stick figure.

“Could I do this?” you inquired softly, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. “Would this be fair to Ara? To him?” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to visualize yourselves together, the gentle kind heartedness belying a deeper connection that tethered you.

Footsteps interrupted your reverie, and you looked up to see Rose peeking through the door. “Y/n?” she called softly, stepping inside. The infectious energy of her friend brightened the room. “I saw Jungkook leave. How did it go?”

Your internal debate halted as you met Rose's eager gaze, the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “It was... interesting,” You replied slowly, trying to sort through the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.

“What does that mean? Was he flirty?” Rose raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shook your head, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just talked about Ara and her progress. But there’s this…connection, Rose. It’s hard to explain.”

“Do you like him?” Rose leaned forward, her excitement palpable, her curiosity evident.

“I don’t know! I mean, I shouldn’t, right?” You sighed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s Ara’s dad, and I’m her teacher. There are boundaries, Rose!”

“But do you want to explore those boundaries? You said it yourself; it’s a connection!” Rose's voice rose slightly, her enthusiasm inexhaustible. “You only live once, Y/n!”

“Why are you so supportive of this? Are you trying to get me into trouble?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you felt the weight of Rose’s words pressing upon you.

“Maybe I am!” Rose teased, crossing her arms. “But look, if you feel something for him, that could be something worth exploring. Relationships don’t always lead to disaster, you know. Sometimes, they lead to wonderful things.” 

You chewed your lip, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin things with Ara and her dad?”

“I think Ara would be happy if he found someone who makes him smile,” Rose asserted confidently. “And if that someone happens to be you...well, then that’s just a bonus!”

Looking down at your desk, pondering the vibrant artwork that Ara had drawn, you felt a gentle surge of hope amidst the confusion. Maybe there was a chance for something beautiful—if you could just take the leap.

“All right,” You said finally, fortifying yourself. “I’ll think about it. But I have to be careful...for Ara’s sake. And for my own.”

“Smart girl.” Rose grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, let’s plan how to help you catch his attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension lifting slightly as you felt the warmth of Rose’s friendship. As they began to chat and brainstorm about playful ways to show your interest, you felt a new storm of possibility unfurling in your heart—one that you could no longer pretend to ignore. ______________________________________________________________

After leaving your classroom, Jungkook leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sound of his heart thudding loudly in his chest seemed to resonate in the quiet space around him. What just happened? He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration mingled with a flicker of anxiety as memories of their conversation flooded his mind. 

He rubbed a hand across his neck, still feeling the heat rising to his cheeks—a bashful evidence of how easily flustered he had become in your presence. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about Ara—it was utterly charming. Why did she have to be so captivating?  

His thoughts immediately twisted into a flurry of whims. Honestly, how could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? Your enthusiasm about teaching resonated deep within him; he admired how you handled the classroom, how you brought warmth and light to every interaction. The way you carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear made his heart flutter. He relished in the thought that you cared so deeply for his daughter; it filled him with a swell of appreciation that lingered a little too long in his chest.

But then there was that chemistry, that intoxicating vibe that seemed to hum in the air between them. Jungkook winced slightly, aware that he was entering dangerous territory. Your laugh had tugged at something deep inside him—a longing that he rarely dared to face. Could he be falling for you? The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.

His mind wandered to the moment their eyes met, the way you had smiled at him as if you were sharing a secret, a moment just for the two of them amidst the world. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain slipped through like silk ribbons, tightening around his chest. What would it feel like to hold her? To run his fingers through her hair, to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear?

Jungkook pressed his lips together, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to subside. Damn it, Jungkook. Focus on Ara! But the image of you was stubborn, filling his thoughts with mischievous imaginings—your laughter echoing in his ears, your soft, inviting gaze lingering in his mind. 

He imagined you tucked against him on a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight streaming through the window casting dappled shapes on your skin, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would look up at him in that soft, sleepy kind of way—your hair tousled, and that peaceful smile gracing your features. God, he would do anything for that smile.

His heart raced at those thoughts. Was it wrong to want more? The deeper he delved into his fantasies, the more he wondered if he could truly let someone in again. The idea of developing a connection with you was thrilling but terrifying. 

But what if it went well? What if he got to know the woman behind the teacher façade? What if they clicked like he suspected they might? A sudden image of their hands intertwined danced in his mind, the warmth radiating from your soft fingers sending shivers down his spine. He imagined kissing you—a slow, intimate exploration that left you both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.

His body reacted even to the thought, and Jungkook groaned softly, shaking his head at the direction his mind had taken. He just wanted to know more about you—the fear and the thrill of the unknown gnawing at him as he paced in place. Was he ready to join the dating world again? To risk his heart?

Jungkook glanced down the hallway, half-expecting you to appear again with that mesmerizing smile. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the whirlwind that churned within him. You had met as teacher to parent, you were cautious in your own ways, but there was something in your gaze, the spark of possibility daring him to breach the barrier.

“Just take it slow,” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the overwhelming desire unfurling within him like a curtain drawn back to reveal a dazzling stage. “She’s worth it.” 

In his mind’s eye, he could see your face, lit with warmth and kindness, exhibited perfectly in the classrooms where you worked magic with children. But he wanted you outside of the school, in the real world, where they could be themselves.

With another deep breath, he turned and walked away from the classroom, his heart still racing and the ambitious thoughts whirling inside his mind. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him, reminding him that this was just the beginning of something he knew could change everything. And as he left the school grounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to do whatever it took to make sure he saw you again. ______________________________________________________________

The restaurant was awash in golden candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with tasteful art. The hum of conversation intermingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a cozy atmosphere that settled around the tables like a warm embrace. Jungkook had arrived early, wearing a fitted navy sweater that accentuated his figure and dark jeans—not too formal, but just enough to speak of a thoughtful effort. Tonight was important.

He twisted his napkin nervously in his lap as he surveyed the room, his gaze darting to the entrance. How do you prepare for a date with someone you genuinely like? It had been several weeks since they started talking, gradually letting layers peel away to reveal their authentic selves, and now here they were, on the brink of something new. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, you walked in, your presence radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugged your curves and made you look effortlessly elegant. Your hair cascaded in soft waves, and when their eyes met, a bright smile danced across your lips—a smile that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice warm and inviting as you approached the table.

“Hey! You look amazing,” Jungkook found himself saying, his cheeks warming at the earnestness in his tone. 

“Thanks! You too!” You replied, taking your seat across from him, the evening lighting casting a gentle glow on your features. 

Jungkook tried to shake off the nerves, but it was hard not to stumble over his words as their waiter arrived. “Good evening! Can I start you off with something to drink?” 

“Uh, yes! I’d like a glass of red wine, please,” Jungkook said, his hands fidgeting on the table beneath the napkin.

“Same for me,” You chimed in, your openness making it easier for him to remember how to breathe. 

As they sipped their wine and exchanged laughter, they discussed everything—their favorite movies, childhood memories, and even the quirks of teaching that made them both laugh aloud. But as the conversation flowed, Jungkook felt the slight pressure of anticipation build in his chest, the electric tension flickering like a candle in the wind.

“So, what’s been the best part of your week?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while his nerves simmered beneath the surface.

You leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Well, this week we were doing some more basic spelling skills. And there was one point, where I said that our class was gonna have a small spelling bee competition against the other Kindergarten class. Ara took it a little too seriously, she started buzzing like a bee after every word she spelled.”

Jungkook chuckled, picturing the adorable scene. “Oh God, is that why she came home and couldn’t stop buzzing around? I mean, at least she’s remembering to spell more words correctly…she rewards herself by buzzing a little each time.”

“Well, she does have a great teacher,” you teased, your eyes locking onto his with that playful glimmer.

Jungkook felt the heat rushing up his neck. “I’m just trying to keep up with your class levels,” he said with a grin. 

Their connection felt tangible, fragile yet electric. Jungkook summoned his courage as the waiter returned with their meals. “It looks great. I hope it tastes great,” he said, lifting his fork, eager to divert his nervous energy.

As they began to eat, Jungkook was distraught to discover that his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “So, I was thinking maybe—I mean, if you’re interested—” he stumbled through the heavy words, glancing at her, “we could visit that new art exhibit next weekend? Or maybe a picnic? I’m definitely up for a picnic.” 

Your brows raised in surprise, a smile breaking across your face. “I’d love that! An art exhibit sounds fantastic.”

Jungkook exhaled, relief washing over him. They continued chatting, light and airy, until a relaxed silence fell between them. An idea struck him, and he leaned closer, teasingly, “You know, you’re making this date really easy. I thought I’d be sweating bullets.”

Just as the words left his mouth, careless and relaxed, he slipped. “I guess I just feel comfortable, baby girl…” 

His voice trailed off in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Did he really just call you that? His cheeks blazed a deep shade of crimson, eyes widening as he braced himself for your reaction.

You blinked, pausing mid-bite, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Wow, that was unexpected. Do I look like a baby girl to you?” 

Jungkook’s face burned, a thousand apologies spiraling through his mind. “I-I didn’t mean it like—! I mean, you’re—!” He stumbled over his words, rendering himself a stammering mess. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, clearly amused, leaning forward as if to ease his embarrassment. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I kinda liked it, actually. It’s sweet.”

His initial panic spilled over into relief, but the flirty undertone hung between them, making the air around them more charged. Under the table, his heart raced as he played with the hem of his own sweater, unsure whether he was feeling flustered or exhilarated.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Well, um, you are adorable, so I guess it fits—just not in the way I set it up!” 

“Do you think I’m adorable, huh?” You teased, your playful confidence radiating from you. Your gaze held a challenge, one that made his heart race anew. 

“Not just adorable,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, feeling the heat of her presence. “You’re… captivating. Thoughtful. Kind. And it’s…” he hesitated, a smirk creeping onto his face, “dangerously charming.” 

You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with intrigue, every inch of your body language inviting him closer. “Dangerously charming, huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?” 

“Both,” Jungkook said, letting the tension linger in the air, a quiet challenge exchanged between them. As if he were testing the waters before diving in. “How about you tell me something about yourself that could potentially get us both in trouble?” 

This time, you laughed, and it echoed around their cozy corner of the restaurant. The flirtation was undeniable, thickening the air as they engaged in the dance of unspoken desires. Finally, it seemed like this date might indeed lead somewhere—somewhere beautifully unexpected, where the two of them could explore the chemistry that had sparked between them.

With their plates nearly empty and glasses refilled, you glanced over at him, a light blush dusting over your cheeks. Under the table, you let your foot caress up and down his calf, watching how he paused halfway through paying for the bill to look at you with a tilted head. You turned your head away, resting it in your palm as you continued your movements, hearing how Jungkook’s breathing changed from light and even to heavier and quicker.

“What’re you doing…?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning a red colour as he sunk into his chair a little more. You shrugged your shoulders, looking away again, the intensity of the situation making it hard to stare directly at him. 

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor made you finally look back at him. His cheeks were a dark red, a hand extended towards you as he helped you out of your chair, pushing it in before slowly walking with you. A shaky hand was placed around your waist, sending tingles all throughout your body, it was clear Jungkook was nervous, but it was also clear he wanted something else. Craved something else.

“Jungkook, are yo-”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” He asked hurriedly but softly, his eyes  staring into yours as he waited for your response. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask, especially since it’s only our first date, but you just…you look really good in your dress, like, really, really good- and…and…” 

He looked as if he were about to lose his mind if you didn’t speak soon. You carefully cupped his face, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks as you spoke. “Hey, relax…it’s okay. You can breathe…” You calmed him down, his hands coming up to hold your forearms gently, taking in deep breaths. “I..I would love to…go back to your place, I mean. But…what about Ara?”

“She’s with her uncles…Namjoon and Jin promised to look after her.” He said breathlessly, his eyes looking everywhere on your face at once, taking in as much detail as possible as if he were trying to engrain an image of you into his mind.

“Am I supposed to know who those people are, or?” He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“They’re my friends that helped me raise her. Also work at the cafe.” He mumbled, bouncing a little as he looked at the parking lot. “ I really love sharing things with you, but I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you soon…so…my car is over there.” He said, pointing over to a black car parked a little further away from the restaurant. 

There wasn’t a lot of time between getting in the car, the drive to his place, and getting inside his place. As soon as you stepped foot inside the threshold, Jungkook was grabbing you, needy hands grabbing at your waist as he  looked at you, quietly asking for permission to kiss you. You barely nodded before he gently pressed his lips against yours, the kiss was firm yet soft, everything you expected from him.

“God…” He whispered against your lips, cupping your face as he kissed you again, groaning from how good you were. “You’re so perfect…so, so perfect.”

A soft giggle escaped you, pulling back so you were face to face with him, “You’ve barely kissed me, how can you know I’m perfect?” You asked, following mindlessly as he dragged you to the bedroom.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Yes, ‘because.’ Don’t ruin the moment.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed you again, lifting you slightly to place you on the bed. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your dress. His lips slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, peppering soft kisses all along your skin. His left hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he had more room to find the spots that made you shiver. “Your skin’s so soft, baby girl…”

The feeling of his lips latching onto your skin made you shiver, feeling the slight suction as he sucked a mark into your skin, his tongue soothing the area afterwards. He hovered above you, arms propping himself up so he didn’t squish you completely, not that you’d mind. 

“Fuck…Jungkook…” You whimpered, feeling him smirk against your skin. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. 

“Can I take your dress off?” If he wasn’t breathless before, he sure was now, panting as he waited for permission. “Please, I wanna see your pretty body, baby.”

You managed to nod, propping yourself up so he could reach back and unzip your dress. His fingers gently grasped your sleeves, pulling the forward as the top half of your dress slid off your body. The sound that left his lips made your panties damper than before, his eyes focused solely on your bare breasts. “Oh shit…no bra?”

“Didn’t have one that worked with the dress.” You replied, finding it hard to stare at him head on. Jungkook seemed to notice this, his hands cupping your face again, focusing on your eyes as he spoke softly.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything…you have the hottest body ever. Like, ever. I mean, you just showed me your bare tits and I almost came.” With his admission his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t pay any mind to it, instead focusing on you. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Okay? I’ll stop right away.” 

His gaze slowly went back to your tits, his thumbs resting just under your breasts, brushing against the soft skin before fully grasping them in his hands. You let out a breathless moan, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his touch. It wasn’t long after that he had you out of that dress and your panties, being stripped down to only his boxers himself. His face was level with your pussy, lips pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs as he edged closer and closer to the place you needed him most. 

He darted his tongue out, licking a stripe down your folds, before making contact with your clit. The moans you let out egged him on more, pressing his face further into your cunt without any care in the world. The sloppy sounds that came from his mouth on your pussy was borderline pornographic. He used his fingers to part your folds, paying as much attention to your clit as possible. After a few minutes he pulled back, taking a few quick breaths before tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He noticed the way you were gripping the sheets, how your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.

“Aww, are you close, baby girl? Does my good girl wanna cum?” He taunted, and all you could do was whine and nod.

Your eyes were glossy as you opened them again, looking down at him to see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. “Please… Please, wanna cum…wanna cum for you…” You moaned, blindly reaching for one of his hands. 

He got the idea, intertwining your fingers with his as he rested them just above your pelvic bone. He nipped at your inner thigh before licking another bold stripe up your sensitive folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicked over it slowly, steadily changing the rhythm to a pace that would bring you to the edge in an instant. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you coming undone on his tongue, slurping up every little bit of juice that leaked  from your hole.

You laid on the bed, limp and breathless as you looked at him, watching him stand up straight and wipe the rest of your juices that were on his face on the back of his hand. “How’re you doing, baby?” He asked softly, kissing your cheeks a few times to make sure you were still with him. 

You hummed softly, nodding as you pushed yourself up, connecting your lips with his in a slow and sensual kiss. Your hand snaked down to his boxers, barely rubbing against his hard-on before he grabbed your wrist gently. “If you do that, I’m gonna cum. And I want to cum while I’m inside you…”

The pout that formed on your face was inevitable, but you agreed, “Fine…but next time, you have to let me return the favour.”

His smirk grew as you insinuated there would be a next time. “Fine. Next time.” He kissed you again, fingers tangling in your hair as he groped your breasts again, groaning into the kiss. “I’m never gonna get over how soft your tits are…wanna fuck them.” He panted, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

A breathless giggle escaped you, “Maybe next time…” He took the answer you gave him, kissing you once more before flipping you to be on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the mattress as he grabbed at your ass.

“Fuck, is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” When he saw you turn your head and part your lips to respond, he spanked your cheek gently, grabbing it to massage after. “Don’t answer that.”

It almost happened too quickly, he got the condom, slipped it on and pushed into you gently, rocking his hips into yours to make sure you adjusted to him properly. His hand reached under you, cooing at you to part your legs slightly so he could play with your clit. The sensations of his fingers stimulating your clit mixed with the rocking of his cock in you, you were a lost cause. 

“Mm, f-feels…so good…” You moaned into the mattress, feeling him speed up more, probably trying to chase his own high as well. Your walls fluttered around him, making him groan deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Yeah? S’my cock that good for your little pussy? Hmm? Fuck, you take me so well…”

You whined, your walls tightening more around him, that knot in your lower belly slowly becoming too much to handle. “F- fuck…K-Kook, m’gonna cum…” You said in a high pitched tone, trying to hold back for him for as long as possible.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. Let go for me. I’m right there with you…” He encouraged you, thrusting into you faster as he kept rubbing your clit. Your moans melded together as you both came undone.

He kept pumping into you until he was sure you were satisfied, a gentle hand coming to your hips to stabilize you as he pulled out, listening to your soft whine. He hushed you sweetly, laying your hips down to the mattress as he quickly disposed of the used condom. He came back to the bed, curling up behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent. 

“Mmm, you’re so pretty…” He whispered drowsily, smiling softly as he heard you giggle. He loved that sound so much.

“Sure, I look so pretty with messy hair and sweat covering my body.” You groaned, shifting to get more comfortable. It was his turn to chuckle, his arms wrapping around you tighter.

“Yes, you do.” The moment of peace was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. He furrowed his brows, looking at you before towards the bedroom door. “Give me a minute, I’ll go see who it is.” He murmured, kissing your temple softly before getting up and pulling on his boxers from before. 

He was gone for a few minutes, quiet chatter echoing through the house, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. You wrapped the sheet around your body, tugging it securely around you as you got closer to the bedroom door. Then you could hear it, Jungkook’s voice stern and low, something you hadn’t heard from him before. But who was he talking to like that? And then you understood…

“I want to see my daughter.”

here he is guys go crazy

SELF INSERT READER NATION

Would you guys like me to write oc x reader

We got Mashka Lipovsky a 67 year old Russian trans man, very gruff and cold but is Litrally the sweetest man ever would treat his lover like a god/godess, he’s a bottom

I can write any gender reader x him including fem reader ✂️✂️✂️ (this includes trans women bc they are women), guys please I need an excuse to write about him I also have art of him if y’all are interested I can also make x reader art of him or draw ur ocs with him, (if it’s a more spicy art req I’ll put it on my twitter 😼) GUYS PLEASE ID BE SO COOL

PLEASE SEND ME ASKS FOR HIM IM ON MY KNEEES

SELF INSERT READER NATION

Would you guys like me to write for my ocs x reader

We got Mashka Lipovsky a 67 year old Russian trans man, very gruff and cold but is Litrally the sweetest man ever would treat his lover like a god/godess, he’s a bottom

I can write any gender reader x him including fem reader ✂️✂️✂️ (this includes trans women bc they are women), guys please I need an excuse to write about him I also have art of him if y’all are interested I can also make x reader art of him or draw ur ocs with him, (if it’s a more spicy art req I’ll put it on my twitter 😼) GUYS PLEASE ID BE SO COOL

SELF INSERT READER NATION

Would you guys like me to write oc x reader

We got Mashka Lipovsky a 67 year old Russian trans man, very gruff and cold but is Litrally the sweetest man ever would treat his lover like a god/godess, he’s a bottom

I can write any gender reader x him including fem reader ✂️✂️✂️ (this includes trans women bc they are women), guys please I need an excuse to write about him I also have art of him if y’all are interested I can also make x reader art of him or draw ur ocs with him, (if it’s a more spicy art req I’ll put it on my twitter 😼) GUYS PLEASE ID BE SO COOL