Part 2 Of Grimmjow And The Cookie Thief (ask From @kryptoniteforsale !)

“would you die for me?”

you’re laying on sukuna’s bare chest, fingers tracing the dark ink of his tattoos. he scoffs, glancing from his phone down to you before rolling his eyes.

“why would i be dying?”

“like… I don’t know, would you jump in front of a bullet to save me?”

“obviously.”

you huff out a bit of laughter.

“you would?”

his red eyes meet yours, a bored look in them.

“yes idiot, i would jump in front of a bullet to save you.”

“that’s so sweet.”

“yeah i know, boyfriend of the year,” sukuna grumbles, going back to his phone.

it’s silent for another moment before you think of something else.

…

“would you… kill for me?”

his grip on you tightens for a minute and he sets his phone down. one rough hands comes up and clasps your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his.

“do i need to?”

your eyes widen slightly, gulping at the intensity in his.

“i… well no… not right now, i just wondered if you would.”

“yes.”

he releases your jaw and your head drops back to his chest. he goes back to his phone as your heart pounds a little harder in your chest.

…

“… ‘kuna?”

“yeah?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

The Last Petal

Shunsui x widow reader (Jushiro's wife)

2.5k

Warning and mental health TRIGGERS: Mention of alcohol, angst, reader was Jushiro’s wife, Shunsui taking advantage of vulnerable Reader, no explicit smut but mention of sleeping with Reader while she is confused, ptsd, concussion, confusion, denial, alcohol, alcoholism, despair, depression, mental health, grief, a sad cryptic ending.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

As we sit here under the dancing stars, sharing our last drink, promise me that you will take care of her. That is my last request, my friend. You owe me that much.    — Jushiro 

One month post-war.

You woke up, drenched in sweat and noticed a lumpy warm figure nuzzled beside you. You felt a heaviness in your chest. Although the dark, quiet room brought a sense of calm, the very darkness stirred your anxious soul.

Your husband laid still as if he was catching up on sleep. 

You had a dream. You dreamt of your husband finally breaking free of the curse that was his illness. The curse he never disclosed, even to his wife up until the peak moment of the war. The war that cost him his life and left you a widow. 

Yet, here he laid, on your bed as if the war was nothing but a nightmare, crafted from the trauma that continued to linger. While the dream you just had felt more real, the truth was, you had your realities confused. 

You press your head back down on the pillow, your mind numb and memories hazy. During the war, you had experienced a terrible blow to the head. A concussion that skewed all judgement— you could not think straight. Neither could he.

You closed your eyes, your head was spinning and your ears were ringing. That ringing had never left you, as if it echoed the screams of soldiers consumed by the war. 

From within those screams, a faint sound of snoring comes beside you. Your husband never was the one to snore. He suffered from chronic insomnia because of his illness and he never slept so peacefully. But now that he broke free from the curse, he could rest in peace.

You suffered from short-term memory loss and post-concussion syndrome. Every day felt like a dream as you walked around with a constant headache, tinnitus and tunnel vision. 

Your head was spinning and memories from last night were fragmented, like your heart. Even now, you couldn't tell if you were awake or dreaming. Your brain could not distinguish between the two.

Your body was sore but not because of the injuries you sustained from the war. You felt a warmth between your legs that spread upwards towards your core and up your chest, finally wrapping around your heart and giving it a firm squeeze. Panic was slowly brewing. You clench your chest as if you are grabbing for your racing heart, trying to rip it out of your chest as guilt slowly drains your vigour. Why was there guilt and this overwhelming sense of dread? You didn't do anything wrong. Did you?

With your heart thumping theatrically in your rib cage, you extend out your hand, hoping to feel your fingers glide through his silky but fragile strands of white hair. But alas, your hands grab onto coarse locks of messy loose curls. You could not see the colour because the room was dark. 

You did not need the light to notice the lack of radiance. Your husband's hair had a shine that grabbed you from the darkness and guided you towards the light. The hair you had grasped was dark, thick and dull— just like his heart.

You felt a wave of nausea surge through you like an unstoppable storm. You covered your mouth, finding it impossible to contain that involuntary gasp that stirred up the sleeping man beside you— the man who had claimed the space where your late husband once slept. 

“No! No! No!” came your trembling denial. 

Your brain came up with inexcusable excuses, a desperate desire to justify your current sleeping arrangement.

He must have decided to give me company last night after we visited the graves. Why was I at the cemetery? Whose grave was I visiting? Where is my husband, Jushiro? 

Shunsui sensed the turmoil that disturbed your grieving soul. He woke up, his eyelids heavy with sleep as not much sleep was granted last night. He had a few drinks to numb the sorrow and now his mind was buzzing from the aftermath. He also felt a wave of nausea which he quickly swallowed down as his pride was at stake.

He studied your face in the dark, his night vision a lot sharper than yours. He saw the dreadful shock etched across your face. He shuffled, slowly sitting up, revealing his bare chest glistening with night sweats. It was warm in your room. He was warm. But your husband was always cold. 

Although warm, a shocking chill ran through your sweaty body. The nausea still lingered but there was no rush to get to the nearest bathroom. You slowly grabbed the blanket and pulled it closer to your body and up to your neck. He sat still, his face calm—satisfied, unapologetic. However, he had to choose his words carefully. He understood he was treading on thin ice, and it wouldn’t take much to crack you.

“Good morning, Petal. You look restless. What disturbs your sleep? Another nightmare?” came his soothing but groggy whisper. 

Why did he have to speak? It made this dream all so real.

“Where is my husband?”, you asked, gathering more of the blanket around you to shield yourself.

“Oh my dear, you know where he is. We visited him last night”, he patiently reminded you. He kept a distance between you, hoping you would slowly recall last night's event, sparing him the need to explain his actions. 

“Why are you in my bed? I know this is a dream but still. Please get my husband. Ouch”, you whinced and grabbed your temples when a sharp pain pierced through your skull. These daily ice-pick headaches were relentless, never granting you a moment of ease.

Shunsui reached out with his hand to comfort you, a look of pity in his tired eyes, which even in the dark you could spot that familiar soft gaze. His fingertips barely grazed over the skin of your forearm that tightly clenched onto the blanket to preserve your dignity. You did not hesitate to smack his hand away. 

“My dear. You know exactly where your husband is. Please just settle down”. He tried to comfort your anxious mind but you pushed him away.

You refuse to face reality. “Can you just go”, you begged him with your eyes all the while fighting back tears. You couldn't stand being around him. Yet, you were the one who came to him seeking comfort. 

Shunsui wanted to ease your mind and make you aware that nothing happened last night. Emotions were high and after a couple of drinks, things would have progressed very quickly. Luckily, Shunsui couldn't get it up. And so a crisis was diverted all the while you sobbed in his chest, celebrating the one-month anniversary of the departure of your dear late husband. 

As soon as he opened his mouth to explain last night, you burst into tears. 

“Just get out!” you shouted when he made another attempt to comfort you. 

Shunsui stayed silent. He didn’t want to fracture you any more than you already were.

He got up and gathered his belongings off the floor. He headed towards the bathroom to quickly clean up while you sank back under the blankets, waiting for this nightmare to end.

——

Many of the survivors were reassigned to different squads to help maintain balance (both in power and numbers) within the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. Previously, you were in squad 10. Now you were under the direct watch of the Head Captain himself. He even promoted you so he could casually bump into you more often. Your well-being had concerned him. It had become an unhealthy obsession that even Nanao couldn't ignore.

“Give her some space. You are smothering her”, said the co-lieutenant while dropping a bunch of heavy registers on his desk.

“I can't let her drown in her sorrows”, he replied. While working on the grim task of going through the names of casualties so he could officially register them as deceased, he decided to replace his morning tea with alcohol. That had become his daily morning gloomy routine. 

“It seems the one drowning in sorrow is you”. Nanao didn't pity the man. She knew he was stronger than this. Alcohol was his way of grieving. But as the Head Captain, he did not have the luxury to grieve. 

“Take my advice”, Nanao paused for a second at the door before her departure. “Don't do anything that would have Captain Ukitake turn in his grave”.

Once Nanao left, he reached for a folded parchment that was tucked away neatly in his pants.

“Turn in his grave, you say? I think we are way past that now, Nanao”. 

——-

Later that day, you were spotted outside, sweeping away rubble from fallen buildings. A mindless task for you as you cannot focus on anything else meaningful. Not that cleaning up wasn't meaningful. Everyone had to pitch in and do at least 4 hours of manual labour every day to help restore Seireitei to its former glory. 

With each stroke of your wooden broom, your mind actively wanders to dark places. A pit of despair awaits you and you get pulled in towards the center. You try to scream but the void creates no sound. You are lost in the darkness of it all. Not a single light shines to guide your soul out of the darkness. And as all hope is lost, you notice a small pink flower petal fall towards you. You extend out your hand, trying to grab the single petal that so gracefully dances like a snowflake. And as you close your fist around it, you open your eyes and find yourself holding onto the pink kimono draped around his shoulders. 

“There she is. You had me worried there for a moment, princess. Are you alright?”

You glanced up at him with a glossy gaze, unsure what had transpired. One moment you were sweeping—then suddenly, you were swallowed by darkness.

You let go of his clothes and he grabbed the broom out of your hand. You had zoned out for a few minutes and were inattentively sweeping the same spot over and over again. 

“You shouldn't be doing any physical labour. That is why I gave you an officer’s position”, Shunsui said.

“Regardless of your position, you are still required to pitch in on the efforts to restore the Soul Society. Captains and Head Captains are also not exempt from this civil duty”, you explained, still shaken up from what you had experienced. 

“And the injured are exempt. That includes me”, he joked while pointing to his eye patch, although the man never needed any valid excuse to be lazy.

“I have no physical injuries”, you argued.

“Exactly. No physical injuries that we can see. But your heart is still injured”. He set the broom aside against a giant boulder and took a step towards you. His hand rested under your chin and he ran the padding of his thumb across your quivering bottom lip. “Let me personally tend to that wound”. 

Your body is frozen. His warm touch is comforting and you seek for more. You desperately want to cling to him so you don't fall back down into despair. 

Fortunately, no one was around to witness the shameless display of disloyalty— a betrayal by his best friend and his wife. It was only a matter of time before he captured your lips, your sweet soft lips that pulled him out of his own pit of despair. 

You had no willpower to push him away. Instead, you deepen the kiss by wrapping your arms around his neck to anchor him down. You did not want that petal to be picked up by the wind and blown away.

Both surrender to passion, searching desperately for solace. It is the familiarity that pushes you onwards. You are reminded of the day when you first met him. It was before you met your late husband, Jushiro. 

-flashback-

Once upon a time, a few centuries ago, you had gifted your heart to Shunsui. But then he introduced you to his best friend, Jushiro. Well, one look at the angel had you instantly fall in love. 

Unbeknownst to you, for years, Jushiro felt the guilt of stealing his best friend's woman. But Shunsui played it cool as if you were just another woman and a short fling. You thought the same, given his well-known reputation.

But the truth was, Shunsui never got past you. You stole his heart and shattered it the day you married his best friend. Given Shunsui's calm demeanour, he made it seem like it never bothered him. But Jushiro could see the pain he caused his friend. 

And that last night they spent together under the stars, the crickets played one last song as old friends reminisced over aged sake. Jushiro gave Shunsui a handwritten letter addressed to his wife and also returned the heart he had previously stolen. 

————

Shunsui hands you that letter. You recognize your husband's writing. It wrenches your heart, knowing this was the last message he had for you. 

My dear wife, 

I hope by the time you find this letter, you have finished mourning for me. 

For years, I have hidden this dark secret from my beloved, shielding her from the evil that plagues this world. But now, I can no longer offer her that protection.

And so, I pass on my duty to my dear old friend. But knowing him, he’s likely already made a mess of things. Forgive him, if you can—grace is not his strong suit and his reputation precedes him.

If you must hate anyone, hate me, the man who could not fulfill his duty to protect his wife. Bear no ill will to the man who only wishes to protect his delicate flower. The flower he once plucked but was selfishly stolen from within his tight grasp. He should have held onto that flower tighter. 

And now he shall.

Always keep me in your heart but never let it be a burden.

Your loving husband, 

— Jushiro 

You felt your heart slowly settling. Listening to your husband's poetic words in your head gives you a sense of calmness. But it also made his death more tangible. It was a reminder that he was truly gone from this world and his soul probably began its next journey ahead. 

You reach into your pocket and for a moment he foolishly thought you were about to hand him your house keys.

Instead, you present him with a letter of your own. He quietly reads the words that are not as poetic as your husband's and reopens unseen wounds from the past.

Nevertheless, he ignores the heartache and wears that familiar, deceitful smile. The same nonchalant smile that cost him his love once before.

“Is that what you want, petal?” he confirmed once he read through the letter twice. 

“Yes”. You stood firm in your decision, unmoved by his earlier attempts to charm you.

“Very well. I'll see through it immediately”. 

Your request to be reassigned to your previous squad was approved. 

What you requested was distance and time away from him— both necessary to heal your heart and soul.

But at what cost?

The pink flower, whose delicate petals once saved you from despair, refused to blossom once more. And thus, with time, the flower slowly withers away, leaving wilted grey petals along its path.

❤︎ catching the bleach men smelling your panties (smau) ❤︎

warning: smut, explicit content and language, 18+mdni

featuring: kenpachi zaraki, shunsui kyoraku, grimmjow jaegerjaquez, shinji hirako,mayuri kurotsuchi, kisuke urahara

Kenpachissluut 🩷

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩶

I know I'm a week early, but I was excited to write something Valentine's Day related!

TW: I was in heat when I wrote this. Mentions alcohol, lots of smut, p in v penetration, face sitting, etc...Tiny bits of a little angst at the end buuut nothing our glorious king Reigen Arataka can't fix ;)

What happens when you, a lonely single, meets your friend Reigen, another lonely single, at a bar on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine's Day?

Valentine's Day was on a Friday this year, and you celebrated by treating yourself to a whole bottle of wine. You were only halfway through it when you felt brave enough to text your friend Reigen, the insufferable screwball you had such a massive crush on.

You kept it simple, asking what he was up to for the evening. One thing led to another, and you were forgetting all about your wine and plans for isolation, getting dolled up to meet him at the bar. You'd never even approached first base with him, but you still pulled on a sweet and seductive matching set of lingerie under your outfit, just in case! It was a day for love after all.

When you arrived he was already seated at the bar, his glass half empty and his cheeks already flushed. You sauntered up to him, plopping down at his side and ordering a glass of wine. He wore his usual crisp, gray suit and pink tie, but under the tacky pink lighting in the bar for the occasion, it made him appear a bit more roguish and artfully messy. Maybe it was the way his hair fell against his forehead, knotted from continuously running his hand through it or maybe you just had too much wine coursing through your veins, warming your body and sending you into a spiraling heat, but the mere sight of him had you clenching your thighs together. You tried not to look too excited.

"Hey," Reigen greeted. "Couldn't handle spending tonight alone, could you?" He grinned teasingly.

"I just got bored." You rolled your eyes at him playfully. "And you came."

"I did come." He chuckled gruffly. It took great effort for you to keep your composure, thinking of innuendos in your head but not daring to utter them aloud.

The bartender set your glass of wine before you, and Reigen ordered him to put it on his tab. You smirked as you tipped the glass back, taking a generous sip. You felt a swell of pride, the usually frugal man who wasn't so cheap with you. "Thank you," you breathed.

"No problem." He was trying to remain nonchalant, but his leg bounced next to yours as he downed the rest of his drink.

The two of you talked about generic things, the holiday, work, what shows you were watching, books you were reading, video games you were playing, all of the socially acceptable, boring things. All the while, his leg kept bouncing. It was distracting really.

You laid a hand on his thigh just above his knee to steady it.

Reigen gave you a puzzled look, glancing down at your hand and back up. At the tiniest hint of judgment, you were retracting your hand, cheeks warming shamefully. "Sorry. You were fidgeting," you muttered the lame excuse, nervously drinking more of your wine.

To your surprise, after you had set your glass back down, he grabbed your hand, spreading it back over his thigh, even a little higher this time.

"Can I try some of that?" He nodded towards your wine as if nothing had just happened.

"Ye - yeah." You quickly pushed the glass towards him, your mouth running dry. Now your hand felt heavy on his leg. You watched him carefully as he took a large drink from your glass before pushing it back over your way, licking his lips.

"It's good," he told you after a long moment of staring at each other. "Getting kind of empty. You want another?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe in a bit," you hummed, watching him curiously. You dragged your hand down and off his leg, grinning wickedly, your confidence returning at his encouragement. "Or I can finish it and we can go have some elsewhere?"

"I have some at home." Reigen shrugged. "Let me close my tab."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You were delightedly surprised at how quickly your plans were falling into place. Like a gentleman, Reigen walked you inside his apartment, holding the door open for you and taking your coat and purse. Not so much like a gentleman, his lips were on yours almost instantly, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hands on your hips held you against him.

You squeaked, a small sound of surprise that made him pull back, looking unsure of himself. "Sorry - is this okay?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I was just a little surprised at how aggressive you're being."

Worry flashed across his features, his hands dropping away from your waist. "Shit, I'm sorry," he muttered again.

"No, no." You grabbed his hands, guiding them back to where they were. "I want you to manhandle me."

A beat passed as your words processed in Reigen's mind. "Oh fuck." His hands went limp on your hips, eyes darkening and jaw going slack. "Fuck," he repeated, looking desperate now.

"Is something wrong?" You teased.

"No," he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. He watched you carefully, eyes darting about your features to search for any sign of hesitation. "You're sure you want this?"

"More than sure." You nodded. He'd see just how sure you were if he got far enough to glimpse your matching underwear.

Your head spun with your wine buzz as Reigen whisked you along to his bedroom. He fell atop his mattress with you on top, straddling his waist. He groaned pathetically while you returned your mouth to its position against his, tongues unceremoniously exploring each other. It was drunken and filthy, the way you practically drooled into his mouth. His hands shamelessly explored your body now, starting at your waist and stopping at your ass, groping and squeezing your plush skin. You shuddered as he lifted the bottom hem of your dress over the curve of your bum to fondle the bare skin, his fingers grazing your clothed pussy.

"Reigen," you gasped into his mouth.

"Yeah?" He laughed cockily. "Is something wrong?" He mocked. It was really a game of push and pull between you two. When one of you lost confidence, the other was there to do enough uplifting for the both of you. When one of you acted more desperate, the other was there to taunt and tease. You enjoyed this game with him, this balance. You liked taking turns, moment by moment, deciding who was the cat and who was the mouse.

"Please - just take it off." You didn't care how desperate you sounded, since he was the one doing the teasing now, and it was getting you even hotter. The heat swirling in your core was becoming unbearable, and you needed him to touch you.

"Oh my God," he mumbled hoarsely. "You're acting so slutty. It's so fucking hot."

"Reigen!" You whined impatiently.

"Alright, alright."

He reluctantly released your bum, taking your dress into his hands and lifting it up and over your body. You sat up to assist him in taking it off, giggling when his jaw dropped at the sight of your matching bra and panties. You reached down to begin undoing his belt, leaning over him to showcase your cleavage as you did so.

"I could cum right now," he sighed. "Did you wear that for me?" He hooked a finger under your panties before pulling back and releasing the fabric, letting it slap against your hip.

"Mhmm." You nodded, yanking his belt from his pants and tossing it aside. "You like it?"

"I love it." He continued to toy with the band of your underwear. "You're beautiful." Reigen's cheeks warmed at the compliment he gave you. The way he could be so cocky and so soft with you simultaneously was driving you mad. A straightforward businessman who was also a little dorky...it got you wet like no other man could.

You unzipped his pants, pressing a kiss to the bit of exposed skin just above the band of his boxers in thanks. He let loose a shaky breath, undoing his tie and beginning to shimmy out of his jacket and unbutton his shirt. You sat up to give him space to undress himself, helping him unbutton his top while he slowly attempted to kick his pants off. It was chaotic and clumsy, the two of you working together to hastily remove his clothing, but you giggled through it with him and didn't stop until he was left in nothing but his boxers. You took your place back on his lap, grinding down against his clothed, hardening cock. The both of you moaned in harmony at the friction.

Reigen's fingers dug into your sides, pulling you down onto him. He panted and watched in awe as you rolled your hips against his, the both of you unabashedly dry humping one another like crazed teenagers. He reconnected your lips, the noises you were making falling into each other's mouths. It was pure bliss until it wasn't, until you needed more. And somehow, without any words being spoken, Reigen knew. He was pulling away from you again with a groan, laying back against his sheets and looking up at you with a deadly serious expression.

"Take your panties off and sit on my face," he demanded.

Your eyes went wide, shocked by the blunt, lewd request. Something inside your stomach churned, making you twitch. "What?" Your face grew hot. His intense gaze made you squirm. Your head was swimming.

"You're gonna act shy now? Like you weren't just rubbing yourself against me?" He laughed meanly. "Come on." He tapped your thigh like it was simple. "Come rub yourself against my mouth instead."

Your brain was short-circuiting. He had beat you at your own game, and it was making you want to run, the balance tipped back in his favor. "I - I don't - I mean, are you sure? I've never done that before."

"First time for everything." He grinned. "Need some encouragement?" He rubbed comforting circles into your skin. You were struggling to process reality, your friend, hard as a rock beneath you, asking you to sit on his face. You took a deep breath.

"What if I like," you searched for the right words, "break your neck?"

"Then I'll die a happy man," Reigen mused.

"I'm being serious!" You pouted.

"You're not going to break my neck," he groaned in frustration. "I've got support." He patted the pillows underneath his head for extra measure.

"I'm nervous," you confessed. "Sorry, I know that's not very sexy."

"You kidding? You're still a bombshell." Reigen smiled. "You can lay down and I can eat it that way if you'd prefer?" The way he talked about eating your pussy so casually made your chest flutter. You gasped at him, throbbing against the damp fabric of his boxers.

"No." You blushed deeply. "It's okay. I can do it."

"Do what?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can I hear you say it?" He was toying with you now, making you say dirty things just for the sake of it.

"You are so-" you huffed. "I'll sit on your face."

"Good girl," he praised teasingly. "Alright, let me see then. Take them off."

You whined but obeyed, lifting up off of him to slide your panties down and off of your legs. You quickly straddled him once again, shuddering when your bare heat caught on the fabric of his boxers.

"Shit." With heavily lidded eyes, Reigen reached forward, running a finger through your folds to gather your essence. You moaned at his gentle touch, trying and failing to keep your composure as you thought of his warm tongue being pressed there instead. "Okay. Come up here," he instructed, beckoning you with the finger coated in your juices.

You reluctantly crawled up his body, stopping when you were positioned above his face. You sank down frantically, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, but held yourself up so as not to crush him with your full weight. Reigen hummed against you, grabbing your hips and pulling you down the rest of the way. A shockwave of pleasure racked through your torso as his tongue pressed into you, the vibrations of his groaning tickling your core. You cried out, overwhelmed already, and he had only just begun.

"Fuck!" You held onto his hair, staying still as he licked against you, his hands digging bruises into your ass and thighs. The low, guttural, breathy and slurping noises he was making beneath you had you clenching around nothing, soaking his mouth and chin. You cried and whimpered, trembling as he seemed to know just how to get you going.

Chasing your high as you got more comfortable atop of him, you slowly rolled your hips against his face. Reigen made sounds of approval, repositioning his hand placement to encourage you to keep going, to keep riding and using his face the way you needed to. It was nasty, your face flushed with the realization of how obscene it was, and the realization only made you get hotter, wetter. The coil in your lower stomach kept tightening and tightening, threatening to snap.

You pulled away from him, collapsing at his side.

"What are you doing?" He panted in disbelief, his face glistening with your slick.

"Want to cum on your cock," you mumbled drunkenly, taking off your bra. "Please, fuck me." You tossed your bra aside and spread your legs, batting your lashes up at him tiredly.

"Holy shit," Reigen gasped. He fumbled for his boxers, fighting to quickly pull them down and off his body. You shamelessly watched his hardened length spring free, impatiently spreading your legs even farther apart.

After scrambling for a condom in his nightstand and rolling one on, he crawled over you, dipping his head forward to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips as he sunk into you, swapping moans. He pulled back to watch himself move slowly in and out of you, eyes wide and glassy. You screwed yours shut, relishing in the feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls. You opened them only when you felt his thumb press against your bundle of nerves, rubbing fast, tight circles as he slowly increased the pace of his thrusts into you.

"Reigen!" You gasped, grabbing his wrist and trying to push him away. With his free hand, he ripped your hand away, pinning it above your head.

"Thought you wanted to be manhandled?" He grunted, his composure wavering in and out as you clamped around him. "Oh my - fuck. S - so tight and warm," he whimpered into your neck as he practically collapsed over you, struggling to keep a steady rhythm on your clit and inside you.

"'S too much!" Tears were prickling in your eyes. You weren't prepared to release just yet, but it seemed you weren't getting much of a choice. You could hardly think or remember how to breathe, forced to take it as he pumped in and out of you. You were squirming beneath him, trying to relieve some of the pressure though it was no use.

"Stay still," he growled, his voice deep, carnal, and almost unlike him. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't obey, back arching and thighs trying to clamp shut to resist the force of his blows.

He was getting frustrated with your refusal to listen, tightening his grip on your wrists. He removed his thumb from you clit and pulled out of you in one quick movement, ignoring your dumbfounded expression as he flipped you over and lifted your hips, re-entering you from behind. It was painful, the way he slammed back into you, but it hurt in a way that sent an extreme wave of pleasure through your core. You were basically screaming now, falling limp underneath him, but he wouldn't allow it, wrapping an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders and neck to hold you upright as he took you from behind. He found your clit again, expertly rubbing his fingers against you while he thrusted into your ruined cunt.

You couldn't make out any coherent words, crying and whining loudly while he muttered praises in between kisses pressed to your temple. "I know, I know," Reigen cooed. "You're okay. It's okay. I've got you. You're almost there."

It didn't take much longer for either of you in this position. Reigen's thrusts were starting to become erratic, his grip on you clumsily faltering and tightening, back and forth. "I'm gonna cum," he told you in a pained tone. "You almost there, baby?"

The innocent pet name in such an indecent setting knocked the wind out of you. All you could do was nod and make a sort of sound of agreement. He was more strategic now about the way he moved, trying to get you there before him. You relaxed into him, trusting him to hold you up as you let that coil inside snap. You shuddered and trembled against him, temporarily going to another place entirely as you he chased his own high, pulling out only moments later after he was finished.

You laid beside him, the two of you panting and coming back down in unison. He gave himself a minute before he moved to clean up, discarding his condom and heading to the bathroom. Without him inside you or near you, you suddenly felt very cold. You waited for him curiously and a bit anxiously, a small bud of worry blossoming in your chest at his absence and his silence. You heard the faucet running for a few moments before he was returning, a wet cloth in his hand.

For all of his obliviousness and goofiness, Reigen was surprisingly attentive and soft, gently bringing the warm cloth in between your thighs to clear up some of the residue that was left behind. You gasped at the feeling of the fabric against your sensitive core, but allowed him to quietly and softly wipe away the remains of your encounter. It all seemed to come together in this moment, to make sense, why you had such an intense crush on this man who was supposed to be your friend.

"Thank you," you croaked tiredly when he was done.

"You need anything?" He asked you hoarsely, sounding just as exhausted as you were. "Water? A snack?"

"I'm okay," you shook your head. You wondered if you were overstaying your welcome, lingering if you weren't going to have a drink or some food. It made you more nervous and uncertain when he left to go grab something for himself. He was still your friend, no matter how much you were enjoying yourself. Your past reminded you that you needed to be realistic. You reluctantly pushed yourself up from the plush confines of his comforter, searching for your undergarments. "I should get going," you explained when he returned with a bottle of water.

Reigen's expression fell. "You're not going to stay?"

"Oh." You softened under his harsh gaze. "I don't know - I guess I just assumed you wouldn't want me to after we-"

"What kind of a guy do you think I am?" He laughed. "You're not going home at this hour by yourself. And I like to cuddle afterwards," he stilled, "unless you don't."

You giggled at him. "Yeah, I do too."

"Good!" He jumped back into bed, pulling your naked body flush against his. You laughed, blushing slightly as you comforted into his embrace. He wanted you here. Could this have been more than a one night thing?

As if reading your mind, "for what it's worth," he hesitated, "I'm really glad you texted me tonight."

"I am too." A day for love indeed.

Neliel with no mask

😁😁 !!!!

Drabble Prompts

As promised, here is a list of prompts for our Drabble Challenge on June 24. It does not have to be SMUT but some of these prompts are dirty +18!

You do not have to use these prompts if you don't want to!

The quotes can be used by the character or the reader!

I have included both word prompts and Quote prompts. Use as many as you want in your Drabble. Have someone pick for you or use a random generator. Will continue to update the list as I think of more fun ideas!

Quote Prompts

"Welcome to the family" 

"Do I know you?" 

"So *that's* what you're into!" 

"Wow! I didn't know you could bend that way..." 

"So, how'd you get stuck in there?" 

"Is that all you've got?"

"You can give me one more, can't you?"

"Please never put those words together in that order again."

"Keep that skirt on while I fuck you"- anon

“Don’t you dare stop until I say so!”

“What? Right now?”

“That’s disappointing”.

“My eyes can't help it!”

“Be careful! It might bite!”

“I saw you the other day with another man”.

“Wait! I’m not ready!”

“What a messy little hole”.

“Is that how you ride a horse?”

“Got a little excited there, didn't we?”

“Just because it’s dangerous doesn't mean we don't try it”.

“Do it for science”. Or “All for science”.

“Got a heavy package delivery. Need some help to carry it inside?”

Credit: @whitefoxfiction (1-5 and some words below); @darthwhorecrux (6); @spacedust-alley (7); @saltychonk (8)

WORDS:

decolletage

wedgie

scent

kancho

passage

bless

transaction

sour

prescription

routine

lodge

Bow

condiment

towels

Elastic

Cheese

Cucumber

Fraternity

Picnic

Language

Based on this beautiful request from my sister wife @tomitsulikeslemons <3

Another Friday night had come and gone. It was sometime past one in the morning, the dance floor packed, vibrating with hip hop music, and colorful lights weaved through the sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. You and your friends had wriggled your way out of the crowd, off to have one last drink, though none of you needed it. That was evident in the way you sauntered through the stuffy air carelessly, a slant in your step, every thought, thing, person, scenario funnier than it really was, reality viewed through a different lens. By the way your friends talked and acted you knew they shared your state of mind, the trio of you fueled off one another. 

What you didn't share with them was your desire to leave this place. Dancing to the latest hits was fun for a while, but your heart craved something else. All night you'd longed for a change of scenery, a specific place in mind. Most of the bars would be closing soon. You'd shied away from bringing it up all night, but halfway through what was supposed to be your final drink, it became now-or-never.

"We should go to the jazz bar!" you announced, beaming excitedly to hide the embarrassed blush coating your cheeks. 

As expected, you were immediately met with resistance, both of your friends giving you eye rolls, exhausted groans and disapproving shakes of the head. 

"Seriously?!" One of them grumbled, unafraid to give it to you straight. "That place is sooo dead. Every time we go there it makes me want to fall asleep," she voiced dramatically. Your other friend nodded her agreement, taking a long, tired sip from her drink. 

"It's romantic and luxurious," you countered. "You just don't know how to appreciate good music." It was your turn to take a long sip now, glancing to the side and raising your eyebrows over your glass. 

"HEY!" She shouted while your other friend simultaneously accused, "oh, please, we all know you're not going for the music."

"Yes I am!" You whined defensively, though you understood immediately what she meant, especially by the shit-eating grin spreading on her face. 

"That's right," your other friend giggled, catching on, the two of them exchanging devious glances. "You only got into jazz because you want the owner's PICKLE!" She chanted the last bit, cupping her hands around her mouth for the whole club to hear, or at least those nearby. 

"It’s not true!" You hissed. "Maybe I just like going somewhere where random men aren't constantly trying to get behind me like dogs!" You took another drink from your glass, nervously chugging.

"Yeah, yeah, none of them can compare to your little jazz boyfriend, we know," your friend snorted. The other joined in her laughter, the two of them like goofy, taunting hyenas. 

"I'm - I can't - that's not even remotely true," you stammered, repeating yourself, crossing your arms over your chest, looking all too interested at the contents in your glass. 

"She's blushing!" They pointed at and prodded your cheeks. 

"My cheeks always get red when I drink!" You snapped back, swatting their hands away. 

"Okay, okay," your friend giggled, waving her hand dismissively to get you to calm down. "We'll go with you."

"Really?" 

"If," she paused for effect, "you admit you want to get the mario coins knocked out of you by the owner."

"You're insane,” you scoffed and shook your head.

"No, you are,” your other friend jumped back in. “We're your best friends! You can tell us! We make great wing women." She grinned and nudged your other friend.

"You do not-"

You were interrupted by her beginning to mock you, words you would never say, altering her voice to sound high-pitched and damsel-in-distress-y, “you’re the only one who truly understands music, Daddy!”

“Let’s listen to some of your jazz while we fuck!” Your other friend naturally went along. 

They carried on, one of them moaning and tossing her hair while the other sang a classic jazz song in a deep, cartoony voice. A group of men nearby started to look over, curious at the spectacle. It was then that you clapped your hands over each of their mouths, silencing their torment.

One of them licked your hand, causing you to recoil. "Sorry,” she giggled. “We're done."

"Well, I'm not interested in going anymore,” you pouted. 

"Don't be so stubborn,” your friend said, taking a quick sip of her drink and stirring the ice around. “Let me finish my drink. Then we can go see your man," she promised.

Your pout twitched, etching into a smile while your other friend winked at you and began to chug her glass. 

Not much later, the three of you took to the streets, staggering along to the jazz bar you adored so much. With each step you found yourself turning inward, getting in your head about your appearance and your general vibe. You hoped your makeup and hair didn’t look too run-down from the night’s activities, or that it wasn’t too obvious in your heavily-lidded eyes that you were far from sober. You even found yourself smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your long, elegant dress, a piece you had picked out with the intention of ending up here later tonight. The closer you got to your destination, the more you attempted to straighten out, to walk more gracefully and practice opening lines in your mind. Your anxious thoughts only ceased when your trio clicked up to the bouncer, arms interlocked, no need to show him your IDs. You were familiar faces at this establishment after all. 

But then, he wasn’t stepping aside, didn’t lift the velvet rope and gesture you in as he normally did with a “welcome back, ladies.” He stood firm with his hands clasped, forcing a practiced frown as he said instead, "sorry ladies. We're closing up in about fifteen minutes. Can't come in."

Your heart sank. Dramatic as it was, you felt your night had been wholly ruined by this piece of information, by this denied entry. Your friends watched your enthusiastic expression fall, and one of them broke from the group immediately, clacking forward with an aggressive, steely look in her eyes that you knew all too well. 

"So? Let us in for fifteen minutes," she demanded, hands on her hips and chest puffed out. 

The bouncer towered over her, unmoving. "We can't.” He shrugged carelessly. “The doors are shut."

His resolute words made you deflate even more, but further provoked your feisty friend. "Seriously?” She shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her heel against the concrete. “Where's the owner? I want him to tell us."

"No, no.” You tugged at her elbow, disconcerted by the prospect of bothering him. You pulled her back into line with you and your other friend. “It's fine. We'll go," you said decisively, not wanting to start conflict at his bar.

"Uh, no we won't.” Once she had a mission in mind, she didn’t back down. She raised a manicured pointer finger in the air. “I didn't walk all the way here to get turned away. We come here all the time, and many of those times we were here past two am! Is this how you treat valued customers?!"

The bouncer still didn’t seem to want to budge, looking bored with the three of you. He rolled his neck this way and that while your friend snapped at him, his mind likely only halfway here. It only added to your humiliation, had you angling your feet in the opposite direction, trying to nudge your friends away, but they weren’t conceding. 

"Yeah, c'mon dude, seriously,” your other friend joined in the fray. “Three young things like us?” She gestured between the three of you. “You need us in there."

"Maybe when we opened several hours ago,” he opposed, letting the slightest bit of irritation slip into his tone before regaining his composure. “I really am sorry, girls, but it's policy."

"Policy? Policy?!” That made your temperamental friend explode, her arms flailing about in the air between them. “What are you, the goddamn police?!"

"It's okay!” You pulled her back again, panicked. This had already escalated too far. “We can come another night! No big deal!” You offered a sheepish, crooked smile to the bouncer, chuckling nervously as you attempted to steer your trio away for the last time. “Sorry for the trouble."

"No!” Your friend frowned, stomping her foot childishly, not yet ready to accept defeat. “You were excited! We're not leaving!"

You sighed, exasperated and uncomfortable with so much confrontation at a place you loved so much. "I'm telling you it's-"

"Is there a problem here?" 

The four of you followed the familiar voice, like deers in headlights, peering up at the owner as he stood at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance in a wide stance, eyes narrowed down at the group of you. 

You froze at the sight of him, breath catching in your throat. 

Shinji.

"No, no boss,” the bouncer scrambled to explain, sounding much less indifferent than he had moments ago. The large man turned small in Shinji’s presence, not so tough now. “Just telling these ladies we'll be closing up soon."

His narrowed gaze slid smoothly from his employee over to the three of you. When his eyes met yours, they softened, his glare reserved for man and man only. "Oh, it's my girls."

You squeaked as your friend shoved you forward, nearly knocking you over the rope. You straightened, just like you had practiced, smiling tightly and waving bashfully up at him. 

"Hey, sweetheart,” Shinji chuckled languidly, slowly beginning his descent down the stairs towards you. “Ya coming in?"

"We're trying to,” your friend grumbled from behind, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bouncer, eager to pin blame on him. “Are you gonna fire this guy or what?" 

"Whatever you want darlin',” Shinji laughed, unhooking the rope and ignoring his bouncer’s dumbfounded expression. “Come on, then."

Your friends giggled excitedly at the VIP treatment, as if they weren’t complaining about having to come here thirty minutes ago, prancing forward and up the stairs. You lingered behind, murmuring another “sorry” to the bouncer before you moved to follow them. 

Shinji held out his arm for you to take. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t gonna get to see ya tonight.” He eyed your figure. “Looking so pretty too.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smiled coyly, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside, careful not to trip up the stairs. 

You were met with the usual scene, dim lighting, gold, reds, purples, the woodsy aroma of whiskey mixed with cigar smoke and expensive perfumes, two men gathered in hushed conversation at the bar, a new couple huddled together in the corner playing footsies, an old one twirling with each other on the floor to a romantic tune, glimpses of lovers and loners alike on the balcony, and your friends already spinning each other around, looking wild and beautiful and catching the eyes of most men in here, however young or old. 

Shinji was not one of them, too busy with his eyes on you. “Are ya thirsty, baby doll?”

Every little variation of pet name he gave you made your chest flutter, the sweet names and phrases like doses of sugar coming from him. It gave you a rush, and you couldn’t get enough. You were an addict, constantly coming back for more. “Can I just have a water?”

“You can have whatever you like,” he responded, detaching from your side to slide behind the bar, his bartender occupied with flirtatious women at the end. 

Shinji made quick work of filling your glass, throwing in a lemon and garnishing it with a small flower. You giggled your thanks when he handed it to you, making him grin adoringly as you sipped from the pretty glass, perched in the stool across from him.  

You were working up the courage to launch into conversation with him, racking your brain for how to start calmly when he made you feel so airy and excitable, when one of his regulars was slinking up to the bar, coming to catch up before saying his goodbyes for the night.

“Hey!” Shinji beamed towards him before throwing you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back for ya,” he assured before he was off, playing the gracious owner. 

You waited impatiently for him to return, not-so-subtly watching as he got trapped in one conversation after the next, getting to know some of the unfamiliar faces before they left for the night or revisiting with returning patrons. Envy burned in your chest, observing them stealing away your time with him when you had been waiting for this all night. 

As the clock neared and then passed two am, despite the fact that Shinji never formally kicked anyone out, most people filed out on their own, some stopping him to thank him or to chat about their night or their most recent heartbreak or how their job has been so shitty and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You supposed you couldn’t blame them - Shinji was easy to talk to, attentive, humorous and ran a damn good establishment, but you couldn’t help the mounting frustration any time another straggler prevented him from making his way back to you, stealing even more precious time as the night progressed into the wee small hours of the morning. You were getting bitter, silently commanding everyone in the room to please, just leave.

Your friends sashayed their way over to you, one of them faking a yawn. “Looks like it’s closing time,” she observed, throwing you a suggestive look.

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

“I mean, yeah,” your other friend laughed. “What? You want us to stay and watch when he…” she trailed off, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Didn’t realize you were into that,” they joked.

“That’s not going to happen.” You blushed deeply. “And I’m wondering if I should leave with you.” You glanced longingly in Shinji’s direction, watching him speak with an old pair who were here every week. “He seems like he’s pretty busy. I haven’t really got to talk to him all night.” You looked at your glass of melted ice sadly.

“You have to stay!” Your friend urged you. “You came here for a reason. Don’t pussy out.”

“Do you want us to stay until everybody else is gone?” Your other friend offered.

It was tempting, but you weren’t going to make them sit here with you when they were ready to go. Besides, it seemed like there were only a couple of others left aside from the old couple, and all of Shinji’s staff had already cleaned up and gone. If you were staying, surely, it wouldn’t be much longer until you got him all to yourself. Your friend was right. Now was not the time to pussy out. You’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

“That’s okay.” You smiled, getting down from your stool to hug and kiss them goodbye. “Thank you guys for coming with me.”

“You know we always will. Go get some pickle.” They smacked your butt before departing, waving teasingly to Shinji as they sidled past the chattery old people. 

At the sight of their exit, Shinji looked your way, confirming that you were still there, waiting for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to the old couple, exchanging their last words before he helped them out and down the stairs, returning to say and wave goodbye as the other few remaining people wrapped it up and left. 

It was finally just the two of you, the moment you had been wishing for all night. An upbeat jazz song echoed around the vacant space as he made his way back to your side. He looked a little delirious, dark smudges under his wandering eyes, a few more of his buttons undone, revealing more of his chest. He was probably worn out from the long night. It made him look impossibly sexier.    

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

“Hi,” you said timidly, pushing down the feral urges rising to the surface. “Again. Those old people have a later bedtime than I do.”

Shinji grinned amusedly at your passive aggressive joke. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long.” He snuck in closer, whispering, “did ya miss me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, heating up under his intense gaze.

“I sure missed you,” he confessed, bringing a hand to ghost over your waist. His eyes dropped to follow the motion. “I like this dress,” he complimented. “Yer a real knockout. I was afraid someone else was going to come and snatch you up.”

“You’re being dramatic.” You reached for your hair to smooth down the messy strands.

“I’m not,” he disagreed seriously, his voice dropping an octave. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the surround sound of jazz, and the transition into a slower and more sensual instrumental. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have to wait for anyone. By the way, how much trouble did my bouncer give ya earlier?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honestly!” You laughed nervously, looking towards the entrance as you thought of his employee and the way he shrunk down when Shinji came outside. You were shrinking now in your own way, having an inkling that if you said the word, he’d truly get fired in a heartbeat, and you didn’t particularly want that on your conscience. “He was just doing his job.”

“His job is to let my girl in, no matter the day or time or whatever the hell else is going on,” Shinji said sternly. “He’s an idiot.”

“I made it in here. No hard feelings.” You tentatively put a hand on his chest, bringing yourself closer to him, some of your fingers curled against his shirt, and others on his bare skin. 

“Yer too forgiving.” He calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath your touch. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Well,” you avoided his eyes as you confessed, “I’m happy now…”

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

The music played distantly again, reminding you that you were alone with him, the only two around to hear it. Shinji’s hand fell from your waist, coming to rest atop where yours was pressed to his chest. 

“So then, shall we dance?” He asked, grinning mischievously. 

“What?” You nearly gasped, gazing at the empty floor. “I don’t dance - like that!” You panicked, imagining the intimacy of it - his hands on your waist, his body so close, moving in sync with yours to the slow music playing over the speakers. There would be no explaining away your feelings, just movement and lots of eye contact, all body language. You were all talk and no game, wobbling on your heels, sure that you were going to embarrass yourself, that you were going to put his favorite genre to shame, and then it would be all over. 

“Sure ya do,” he chuckled at your jittery state. “Yer just being shy.” He grabbed your hand, pulling it from his chest to entangle his fingers with yours, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“I really don’t know how to.” You hesitated. “I’ll make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. “Let me teach you.” 

Without another word, he was hurrying away, plunging the space into silence. He returned with an old record player, making a comment about the “real deal” as he set it up. He left again in search for a specific record, leaving you to shuffle in place and twiddle your thumbs, rubbing the back of your hand where his lips came and went. 

While you waited, your thoughts ran unchecked, thinking again about him pulling you along the floor to something romantic, your dress swishing about at your ankles, holding his hand long enough for your palm to sweat in his…your heart hammered in your chest, beating to the wrong rhythm. You took steadying breaths, remembering to slow down, to be smooth as jazz. 

Shinji looked your way excitedly, finally putting the record in place. He rushed back over to you, and so as not to waste a moment of the song, he grabbed onto you immediately, a hand on your hip, and another taking your hand. There was no more time to worry, and only time for dance. 

The music began, like stars twinkling, the language of dreams, while strings crooned in the background. Eyes like saucers, you looked to Shinji for guidance on where to put your free hand. “Up here.” He nodded towards his shoulder. 

You delicately placed your hand where he instructed, tensing at the feel of him, at the tiniest movement of his muscles underneath the soft fabric of his dress shirt. You weren’t able to think about it for very long as your feet were pulled into movement, Shinji taking you with him to the melody. 

Of course, you found a way to complicate it, no matter how simple it was. All you had to do was move your feet where he tugged you, but you couldn’t manage even that, staggering in your heels, but he never let you falter too much, tightening his hand on your hip and his other in yours to keep you upright and in line. “Yer alright, yer okay,” he’d say. “I’ve got you.”

He never stopped, covering the expanse of the floor with his eyes on yours. You still couldn’t quite get out of your head, but it was getting easier as the song progressed. You let both Shinji and your intuition guide you, and as such, your clumsiness slowly faded away, replaced by a gracefulness you never knew you had. When you were starting to get the hang of the easy part, he was releasing your hip, keeping your hand in his and twirling you.

You laughed and squealed, feeling more at ease the more playful he was, all of the stress and the worry cascading out of you with the twirl. It was fun, the feeling of being whipped around by him, your dress and hair twirling too, so much so that it had you cheering, “again!” And of course he obliged you, spinning you around once more.  

Shinji must have been feeling as euphoric as you, opening his mouth to belt out a line of the song.

“You’d be hers if only she would call!”

The words, whether they were just lyrics to sing along to or something he really meant, stunted you. Your smile fell, your expression turning serious and fervent as his eyes bore into yours. He grinned at your stunned expression, encouraging you to listen to the lyrics more carefully as he swayed with you. 

It had you relaxing into the movement even more, the placement of your feet and your body’s responses becoming second nature as you honed in on the music. In this, you found a new appreciation for the instruments and their union, much like the way you united with Shinji now, the bliss when certain notes and sounds came together at once. 

Though the music was peaceful, the moment was intense. Your throat tightened with the way he looked at you, the way he moved you and spun you like you were a flower, the way he sang to you, “you’d be hers if only she would call.” Would he be mine? Does he want to be mine?

It had you recounting all of the times you came in here, how he always greeted you with his signature smirk when you came in and let you stay late, making cheeky remarks about whatever outfit you had on that night or paying enough attention to compliment your hair or makeup, telling creepy men to get lost when they approached you, knowing your drink order and making sure it was never empty, playing your favorite songs, walking you out and telling you that he’d see you next time…he always did. 

And tonight, all that transpired, the same protectiveness and pet names and compliments, but now, the dance. You’d always written off his behavior and his words as his personality, a natural flirt, or maybe just the fact that he needed business, and you were naive enough to fall into his trap over and over again. He was sweet and protective to all the women. After all, he’d told your friend “whatever you want darlin’” at her request that he fire the bouncer, and talked to various women, young and old, before they left tonight. 

You couldn’t deny that on your hard days, you thought about it a little too much, wondered what those conversations with other women consisted of, if maybe you were just his Friday girl and on Saturday he had another little doll staggering up to the velvet rope, batting her lashes and getting him to fulfill her every wish and command, just for the night. It was why you never took any of it too seriously before now, allowing yourself to get excited each night that you visited, but not to take it back home with you, too afraid to have your heart broken.

But being here with him tonight made everything feel real. You weren’t his Friday girl, you were his every day girl. Sure, he gave everybody sweet nicknames, but he complimented you, he searched for you, he stayed behind for you. It had been this way all along, you were just too stuck in your head, letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. If you had just called him, just given him the word, he’d be yours. 

So perceptive, it was as if Shinji knew you were overthinking it all now, worry passing over his features as he observed you. He twirled you again just to see you smile, but instead of spinning you around fully, he ended this one with his chest to your back and his arms wrapped around you, keeping you there for a moment before spinning you back out again, whisking you along and out of the room before you could see the rosiness in his cheeks.

He took you to the balcony, reconnecting with you there, the music still heard from inside as the chill night nipped at you playfully. The lyrics returned, and you strained to hear them as Shinji tucked you into his chest, rocking you more slowly now to keep you warm from the wind whipping your hair and dress around your frame. 

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers if only she would call.”

You looked up from Shinji’s chest, searching his face for the truth as the town below you started to settle into bed. 

“In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s the time you miss her most of all.”

Chills prickled your skin as the song twinkled out, the stars overhead now. When it stopped, the both of you stopped moving, but continued to hold one another, staring in silence with nothing but the distant sounds of the world around you and the whispers of an early spring night. 

Selfishly, you had to know. You needed to hear him say it, for your own peace of mind. “Do you,” you hesitated, but his soft, patient gaze brought you the rest of the way, “have feelings for me?”

“I have for a long time,” he answered you easily, seriously.

“How long?” You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“Not long after you started coming here,” again, with a quick, steadfast response. “You’ve always been my girl.”

You let your instincts take over, looking at his lips, leaning in the slightest bit, this was the call. 

And he moved in the rest of the way until your lips were pressed together, becoming yours. He didn’t have to miss you anymore - at this hour, when he was normally closing up, heading home to lie awake and think of you - because here you were, finally where he had longed for you to be, with him. 

The kiss was long, but sweet. Pure and wholesome, he kept your lips against his, and nothing more, pulling back to hug you tightly, pressing more tender kisses onto your cheek and forehead. “A long time,” he said to himself again, running his fingers through your hair as he rested his head against yours.

“I’m your girl,” you spoke to yourself too, smiling like an idiot and shivering against him, excited and a bit chilly. 

“Yer cold,” he commented, smoothing his palms down your back.

“A little.”

He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms now. “Want to go back inside?”

“No. I like it out here.” You snuggled back into his chest, leaning against him as you observed the lights below and above. “Just keep me warm.”

He started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his pants and pulling it off to wrap it around you.

“You took your shirt off?!” You giggled at him in disbelief.

“My baby’s cold.” He shrugged with a smile, pulling the fabric around your naked shoulders before cuddling you back into him. 

“But you’ll be cold now,” you worried, running your hands along his bare chest and arms, exposed to the night air.

“I’m fine.” He pulled you tighter against him, repeating your words, “just keep me warm.”

Content to be here with him like this, finally yours, you reflected on your humble beginnings, when your friends were reluctant to come here with you, and then when they were refusing not to be let in. You giggled to yourself as you thought of them and how they were going to interrogate you about the rest of your night - or morning, rather. You were going to have to tell them the truth. Okay, I admit, I do want his pickle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

The weather this evening, that late-summer-early-fall breeze, reminds you of that special night. It’s around the same time too, the wee small hours of the morning. You’re normally asleep at this hour, but missing him more than usual, you can’t catch a wink. 

“What’re ya still doing awake?” Shinji asks when he finally returns to your shared home, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Too exhausted for a shower, he joins you in bed. 

“Missing you.” You wrap yourself around him instantly, moaning softly at the heat rolling off of his body on this chilly night. “Have any dances tonight?”

“Hopefully one now - with you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

And so, you dance, no music necessary when you both create your own. The only sounds he loves more than his jazz are the noises that come from you when he makes you feel good. Shinji’s too tired to be anywhere but in bed with you, but not too tired to make love as you say goodbye to yet another Friday night. 

Happy Birthday to Shinji hehe 💌✨

(Didn't have time to make anything new but wanted to make a shout out anyway lol)

switching back and forth between Euphoria and JJK on HBO Max

Him going in to grab my a$$