content. smut. catgirl! mina. fem! top! reader. sub! mina. minor petplay in the sense that mina is a hybrid. strap ons. mommy/mama title. overstimulation. heat cycle. collars. hierarchy kink. dom/sub dynamics. tails. tail…tugging? lol.
a/n. mmm catgirls
you hear her before you see her.
the soft jingle of her collar's bell as she pads into your office, stopping short of your desk. her blonde hair cascades down her back, big brown eyes looking to yours as she fiddles gently with her hands. when she speaks, her voice is soft - furry white tail curling around her exposed thigh. she wears a simple long sleeved sleep-shirt, and thin white panties.
"...mama?"
"hm?" you glanced up from your work, arching a brow at the way her thighs press - a clear, thin layer of sweat already permeating on her forehead, her shifty gaze, and the warm flush on her cheeks. you know it all too well. "heat?"
"yes," mina speaks softly, thumbing her wrist. "it started while I was bathing."
you hum, standing and circling her to your desk until you're in front of her, arms slipping around the kitty's waist. instantly, her tail unfurls from her thigh, wrapping around your waist and tugging you insistently against her. "you didn't touch yourself yet, right baby?"
mina swallows, shaking her head. "no ma'am."
"good girl."
and then your hands are tugging the big shirt off of her, and you're turning so she presses back against the desk, hopping up and curling her legs around your waist. you can practically feel the what radiating off of her core, a low hum falling as you palm her pale waist with one hand - the other rubbing her thigh.
mina shivers, ears twitching. "mommy..."
"what is it, honey?" comes your murmured response, head tilting as you eye the slowly dampening spot on her panties.
a low purr bubbles from her throat. "...please touch me."
"happily."
your hand slinks down, fingers meeting her core with a gentle graze. it makes her tail flush up almost instantly, a heavy yet shy haze over her face of which she quickly buried in your neck. small fangs poke into your neck, not enough to break skin but enough for you to feel.
your touches are gentle, middle and ring fingers pressing together to slowly rub up and down her panties, feeling as they dampen with each slow rub. mina shivers, whimpering sweetly to you.
"m-mommy..."
"shh," comes your reply, hand lifting up and softly dipping past her panties.
mina gasps, pressing more urgently as your fingers push through the slick of her folds, down to her entrance. two digits slip in with ease, and against your neck you can feel as her fluffy white eats twitch in anticipation. "look at you.." comes your soft coo as you lean slightly back, feeling her loosen against you. her tail slips around her thigh again as she leans back, looking at you with those pretty kitty eyes.
"feels good.." she whispers, purrs vibrating between the two of you.
"yeah?" you hum, thumb sliding against her clit, making her jolt.
mina whimpers again, nodding softly as her tail curls around your wrist instead, pushing you more urgently into her. you comply, hand thrusting in and out of her core a bit more insistently.
your free hand comes up, tugging her forward by her collar, and connecting the two of you in a heated kiss - one that mina instantly submits too, her purrs growing louder as her teeth clash softly against yours, arms wrapping around your neck and keeping you close as you ease the growing need of her heat. but it's not enough.
mina pulls back, shaking her head weakly.
"need more.."
"more?" you squint, thinking. "...alright."
--
mina's soft whines and moans bounce off the walls.
her tail is curled tightly around your waist, tugging you back into her each time you pull away - forcing herself to take your strap. it's satiated most of her heat's needs so far, and brought her to the state she's in now. joints softly pinkened, chest rising and falling with each thrust.
"please, baby.." she whines, head back.
you lean, kissing the column of her throat with each thrust.
"such a good kitty," comes your low response as your hips continue to meet hers in varied thrusts. each one sends a jolt through mina, waves of warmth rolling through her body each time.
her back was pressed back against the sheets of your bed, clothes discarded along the way up stairs. a halo of blonde hair behind her head, she was a vision. your hands lowered, gripping her hips, one traveling over to the smooth of her stomach, pressing down slightly as you thrusted in a bit deeper, letting her feel every inch of the faux cock as it split her.
mina whined, tail tightening on you a bit as that warmth that cascaded over her began to pinpoint in her tummy - the low heat of pleasure erupting with each and every thrust. she was nearing her finish, her orgasm building with each thrust.
another soft whimper. "mama- i-"
"I know, I know," you cooed, thrusting faster into her.
it only served to further her intense pleasure.
until, with a cry, her face scrunched softly, a barely audible whine cutting through as she came with a jolt, trembling around the strap. you pushed her through it, dragging out her orgasm until she was shaking and her tail had loosened.
then you slipped out, watching as she clenched around nothing. "...good girl, there you go," you whispered softly, rubbing her tummy. "shh. you're okay.."
her body shook with weak stimulation, purrs bubbling up. "ah...thank you.."
Ehyy! Can I ask for a Chaeyoung ff?? You choose if fluff, smut, etc.. thanks in advance!💕
⠀ ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄
CASTING. son chaeyoung x f!reader
CONTAINS. fluff, comfort, smoking, kissing
WORDS. 1.2k
sha note ! hi darling! 🐹💜 this was supposed to be posted for chaeyoung’s birthday, but i got stuck halfway and only managed to finish it now. i originally had this titled cigarettes after sex, but along the way, marlboro blue felt more right. right? requests are open ‹𝟹
The room is still.
Chaeyoung is still close when you open your eyes, her forehead resting lightly against yours, breaths slow, even, shared in that small space between you.
Neither of you moves right away.
There’s a kind of quiet that comes after being that close—after soft laughter, after whispered things that barely made it past your lips, after kisses that didn’t feel rushed or careful.
Her thumb brushes once against your arm.
“…Hey,” she murmurs, voice low.
You hum in response, not quite ready to speak yet.
She leans in again—just once—pressing one last, lingering kiss against your lips.
Then she pulls back slightly, exhaling a soft breath like she’s letting the moment settle instead of ending it.
“I need air,” she mumbles.
You nod, even if she didn’t really ask.
She slips out of bed first.
You follow after a few seconds.
The window’s already cracked open, curtain shifting gently with the breeze. Chaeyoung settles into the seat, pulling her hoodie around her, fingers slipping into the pocket.
A pack of cigarettes.
Marlboro Blue.
She taps it lightly against her palm before sliding one out, resting it between her fingers like it’s something familiar, something she doesn’t have to think about.
You watch her for a second.
She glances at you, catching your gaze, lips curving just a little.
“Still okay with this?” she asks quietly.
You nod. “Yeah.”
The lighter flickers to life, flame briefly illuminating her face before she leans in, lighting the cigarette.
A slow inhale.
A softer exhale.
Smoke curls past her lips, drifting out the window like it knows where to go.
She doesn’t take another one right away.
Instead, she turns slightly toward you, holding it out.
Offering.
You moved closer without a word, settling beside her again, your shoulder brushing hers as you take it from her fingers.
You take a small drag then pass it back.
The rhythm builds naturally.
Her.
You.
Back again.
The cigarette glows faintly between your fingers before you pass it over. Chaeyoung watches it for a second when it returns to her.
“My dad used to smoke these,” she murmurs.
“I used to hate the smell when I was a kid.” Her lips curve faintly, almost amused.
“Funny how things change.”
You watch her carefully.
The way her fingers hold it.
The way she looks at it like it’s familiar, but not necessarily loved.
You take it when she offers again, but this time, you don’t bring it to your lips right away.
“…I still hate it,” you admit quietly.
She glances at you.
You shrug a little, shoulders brushing hers.
“My mom always complained about people who smoked,” you add, a small breath leaving you. “Said it sticks to everything. Clothes, walls… people.”
You finally take a small drag, like you’re proving you can, before handing it back.
Chaeyoung watches you for a second.
Then she quietly exhales through her nose.
Not quite a laugh this time. More like she’s trying not to make you feel bad about it.
“You’re still bad at it,” she says, softer.
“I told you I am,” you reply, wiping your lips slightly like the taste bothers you.
The cigarette comes back to her hand, but she doesn’t take a drag right away.
You glance at it again.
“Why Marlboro Blue?” you ask.
Chaeyoung blinks a little, like she didn’t expect that to be the next thing.
“Why not?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve ever bought,” she says simply.
You hum, like that makes sense but also doesn’t really explain anything.
“My mom would’ve hated this.”
That makes her glance at you.
“She would’ve given us a whole lecture,” you add. “Like… not even just smoking. The smell. Everything.”
Chaeyoung looks at you for a second longer than before.
“You talk about your mom a lot,” she says.
“She’s loud.”
A faint nod from her.
“Is she strict?”
You shrug.
“She just notices everything.”
Chaeyoung looks out the window again, cigarette turning slowly between her fingers.
“She’d probably not like me.”
You shake your head immediately.
“No.”
Chaeyoung glances at you.
“She would at first,” you add after a second, quieter now. “Because she’s like that with everyone I care about.”
You shift slightly closer, shoulder pressing more firmly against hers.
“But she’d get over it.”
“Yeah?” she murmurs.
You nod.
“Because you’re… actually nice.”
That makes her let out a small breath through her nose, like she’s not sure what to do with that.
“You’re respectful. You listen when people talk. You’re not loud in a bad way. And you’re—” you pause a little, searching, “you’re gentle when it matters.”
The cigarette is still between her fingers, forgotten again.
“My mom likes people like that,” you finish softly. “She just needs time to notice it.”
“And she’d definitely like the way you talk to her.”
Chaeyoung doesn’t respond right away.
She just looks at you like she’s trying to figure out if you actually believe what you’re saying or if you’re just being nice.
“You’re biased,” she says finally.
“Obviously,” you reply.
That gets a small smile out of her.
She finally stubs the cigarette out without finishing it.
“You really think that?” she asks.
You nod once. “Yeah.”
“Your mom sounds terrifying,” she mutters.
“She is,” you say again, like it’s normal.
That finally makes her huff a quiet laugh.
“And she’d still like me?”
You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Because I like you. And she trusts that more than anything else.”
That’s what makes her go still.
Then she moves.
Her hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek like she’s done it before without thinking. Her thumb brushes once under your eye, then pauses there.
“You talk too much,” she says softly.
There’s no bite in it.
Just fondness wrapped in it.
You barely get a chance to react before she leans in.
This kiss isn’t teasing.
Her hand stays on your face while the other shifts behind your neck, pulling you closer like distance isn’t part of the plan anymore.
You melt into it without thinking, fingers catching on her hoodie, holding on like it’s automatic now.
There’s still a faint taste of smoke on her lips, but it’s fading into something softer. Something that’s just her.
The city outside keeps moving, but you stop noticing it.
She kisses you like she’s finishing a sentence she didn’t know she started earlier.
When she finally pulls back, it’s only a little.
Not enough to leave.
Her forehead rests against yours again, breath slower now.
“Sticks to everything,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
You let out a small laugh, breathless and quiet.
“Yeah.”
Her thumb traces your cheek once more.
Her gaze drops to your lips for half a second, like she’s thinking again, then she leans in without warning—just enough to catch you in another kiss.
When she pulls back, she doesn’t go far.
“Don’t tell your mom I smoke,” she adds quietly, like an afterthought.
You snort softly.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
Then she tilts her head slightly.
“Tell her I’m nice though.”
You raise a brow.
“She’d figure that out herself.”
Chaeyoung scoffs, but she’s smiling.
You lean in again, resting your forehead against hers, hands still loosely holding onto her hoodie like you forgot to let go.
╰┈➤ officer hirai has you right where she wants you: cuffed, cornered, and completely at her mercy. she’s turned off the precinct cameras, lied to her team, and the only way you’re leaving this without a felony is if you follow every one of her filthy demands.
╰┈➤ this is the only fic i struggled with the most.. but i hope u guys like it ok? i have si many doubts about this :c i alao kinda proofread... someone console me like im a baby saying it's good :c
──────────────────────
the outside was pitch black and freezing cold. you stood in the shadows of the alley, the metal tool in your hand slick with your own sweat. the streetlights were flickering, throwing long, shaky shadows against the brick walls. every time a car drove by blocks away, you froze, holding your breath until the sound faded into the night.
you went for the back window. It took forever. your fingers were numb, fumbling with the lock until you heard a soft click. you slid the glass up, the sound feeling as loud as a scream in the dead silence of the night. you scrambled inside, landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
inside, the shop was creepy. all the expensive dresses and jewelry looked like ghosts in the dark. you pulled out a small flashlight, the beam of light shaking as you pointed it toward the center of the room. there it was. the diamond. even in the dark, it seemed to drink up the light from your flash, glowing like a tiny star.
it was the size of a large grape, cut with so many sides that it looked like it was made of frozen light. you stared at it, and for a second, you forgot to breathe.
that little rock could buy you a house. it could buy you a car, a new name, and a life where you never had to worry about money ever again.
you didn't waste time. you smashed the small display cass with a heavy cloth over your hand. the glass shattered into pieces, letting you reach inside. you grabbed the diamond, shovrd it into your pocket and turned to run back to the window.
then, the quiet room exploded into sound.
a siren, so loud it felt like a physical punch to your eardrums, started screaming from the corners of the ceiling. it was a high, ear-piercing shriek that made your teeth ache and your head spin. along with the sound, bright white strobe lights began to flash, blinding you every second.
“shit!” you hissed under your breath, the word tasting like copper in your dry mouth. “oh, god, no. not now.”
the alarm was getting faster, louder, like a countdown. you didn't care about looking cool anymore. you lunged for the big glass front door, your hand grabbing the heavy brass handle.
you pulled with everything you had, your feet sliding on the polished floor.
it didn't budge.
"shut up, shut up, shut up!" you yelled, but you couldn't even hear your own voice over the roar of the alarm.
you lunged for the back window, but with a heavy thud, a metal shutter slammed down over the glass. you spun around, looking for any way out, but every door and every window was sealing shut. you were trapped in a box of screaming metal and blinding lights.
you tripped over a display stand, falling hard onto the carpet, burying your face in your hands just to try and hide from the noisethen stayed there, curled in a ball, waiting for the doors to be kicked in by a whole team of cops. you waited for the shouting and the dogs.
but then, the noise just… stopped.
the silence that followed was so heavy it made your ears ring. the flashing white lights died out, replaced by a slow, pulsing red glow. the sudden quiet was almost scarier than the noise.
you heard a soft click from the back door. It didn't sound like it was being broken down, it sounded like someone had used a key.
the door creaked open, and the cool night air rolled across the floor like a mist.
a woman stepped into the red light. she wasn't running or pointing a gun. she was just clicking a small remote in her hand, the thing that had turned off the alarm. she looked down at you, her dark hair messy and her eyes sharp as she took in the sight of you shaking on the floor.
she adjusted the heavy leather belt at her waist, the metal of her handcuffs clinking softly in the quiet room.
"that's a very loud noise for such a small thief," she said. her voice was low and smooth, cutting through the silence. she stepped closer, her heavy boots thumping on the carpet until she was standing right over you. "i turned it off so we could hear each other. i don't like to shout."
momo knelt down, one hand resting on her knee, the other reaching out to tilt your face up toward hers.
"now," she whispered, a dark, mean little smile pulling at her lips. "let's see that diamond. and then, we'll talk about how you're going to pay me for keeping the rest of the precinct away from here."
the red light casted a soft glow over the officer’s face, making her look like a shadow come to life. she didn’t look upset but rather she looked like she had just found a toy she really liked.
“the diamond,” momo said, her voice like velvet. she held out her hand, palm up, waiting. “give it here. now.”
your fingers were shaking so hard you could barely move. you reached into your pocket, feeling the sharp, cold edges of the stone. you pulled it out and dropped it into her hand. it looked like a drop of blood in the red light.
momo held it up, looking at the way it sparkled, then she tucked it away into a pocket on her vest.
“good girl,” she whispered. the praise felt strange—it made your stomach flip in a way that wasn't just fear.
before you could even blink, she reached for her belt. there was a sharp clink-clink sound, and then the cold weight of metal was snapping around your right wrist. she grabbed your other arm, pulling it behind your back with a firm tug that made you gasp.
the handcuffs were tight, forcing your shoulders back and making you feel completely helpless. you were stuck on your knees at her feet, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“we’re not done.” momo murmured. she stood up and stepped behind you. you felt her hands land on your shoulders, heavy and warm. “i need to make sure you didn’t take anything else. it would be such a shame if i missed a piece.”
she started the pat down. her hands were slow and thorough. she ran her palms down your sides, pressing firmly against your ribs. rvery time her hands moved, you felt the rough fabric of her gloves against your skin. she moved to your waist, her thumbs hooking into your belt loops for a second before she slid her hands down your legs, all the way to your ankles.
“stay still.” she commanded when you tried to shiver away from her touch then she stood back up and moved to your front again.
her eyes stayed locked on yours as she ran her hands over your chest and down your stomach, checking every fold of your clothes. she was being much more careful than a normal cop would be. she was taking her time, making sure you felt every inch of her hands on you.
“you’re clean..” she finally said, her voice dropping an octave. she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. “but you’re still a thief. and since i’m not taking you to the station… i think you owe me a lot more than just that diamond.”
momo didn’t wait for you to find your footing, she reached down, grabbed the chain of the handcuffs, and yanked upward. the sudden, sharp pull on your wrists forced a cry from your throat as you were hauled off the floor.
your shoulders burned, and you stumbled, but her grip was like a vice, steering you toward the back door.
the cool air from outside hit you like a sheet of ice, but it didn't clear your head. the red pulse of the alarm was replaced by the low, idling hum of the patrol car. momo marched you through the gravel, the stones crunching loudly under your feet until you reached the front of the vehicle.
with one heavy, practiced move, she shoved you.
your stomach hit the hood of the car with a dull thud. the metal was surprisingly hot from the engine, a sharp contrast to the freezing wind biting at your back. momo didn't let go. she pressed her forearm into the small of your back, pinning you flat against the hood.
you could feel the grit of the road salt against your cheek as she ground you down, making sure you knew exactly how little power you had.
"look at you," she muttered, her voice sounding even darker out here in the open air. "all that work, all that planning, and here you are—face down on my car like a fucking rat."
she leaned her weight into you, her chest pressing against your bound hands. you could hear the slow, rhythmic click of her heavy belt as she shifted. the blue and red lights of the cruiser weren't on, but the small, blinking lights on the dashboard cast a faint, eerie glow over the scene.
"do you know what happens to people who break into shops in my district?" she asked, her hand moving from your back to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair to pull your head back. "they disappear into a cell for a long, long time. unless, of course, they find a way to make themselves useful to the officer who caught them."
she leaned down, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. you were trapped between the heat of the engine and the cold weight of her body, and for the first time, the reality of the "filthy demands" she had mentioned back in the shop started to feel very, very real.
"so," she whispered, her grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. "are you going to be useful for me tonight, or should i just start writing the report?"
momo leaned in closer, her weight pressing you even harder against the hot metal of the hood.
“here’s how this works,” she whispered, her voice sharp and cold. “you’re going to stay exactly like this. you’re going to keep your face pressed into the dirt on my car, and you’re going to tell me how much of a pathetic, worthless little thief you are. every time i ask, you’re going to give me a reason why i shouldn't just toss you in the back of this car and forget where i put the key.”
she shifted, her hand moving from your hair to the small of your back, her fingers splaying out wide as if she were marking her territory. “start talking. tell me what you are.”
you opened your mouth, your voice trembling as you tried to find the words she wanted to hear, but before you could speak, a sharp, static-filled burst cut through the quiet night.
static—bzzt—"unit 24, status update on the silent alarm at the boutique on 5th. we’ve got a triggered sensor in the back. do you copy?"
you froze. that was the real police. the ones who wouldn't let you go for a "price."
momo didn’t move or even flinch. she just reached down to the radio clipped to her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the back of your head with a look of pure, dark amusement. she pressed the button with a slow, calm thumb.
"unit 24," momo said, her voice perfectly professional, not a single hint of the predator she had been seconds ago. "i've already circled the block. it’s a false alarm. looks like a stray cat tripped the back sensor again. everything is locked up tight. i'm staying on-site for another ten minutes just to be sure, then i'm back on patrol."
"unit 24, copy that. understood, resume to patrol when ready."
the radio went silent. the only sound left was the engine and the wind whistling between the buildings.
momo let out a slow breath, a dark chuckle vibrating against your back. she leaned down until her lips were right against your skin again.
"see that?" she whispered. "i just lied to my sergeant for you. i just put my badge on the line to keep you right here on my hood."
her hand gripped the back of your neck again, her nails digging in just a little bit. "that means you belong to me now. not the city, not the station. just me. and I expect you to pay me back for that lie. now, i’ll ask you again... what are you?"
the heat from the engine was starting to seep through your clothes, but the adrenaline was making you stupid. you twisted your head to the side, pressing your cheek against the metal just so you could glare up at her with as much spite as you could muster.
you decided not to answer her question and act bratty just to tick momo off.
"a stray cat, really?" you spat, a shaky, jagged laugh bubbling up. "you’re a terrible liar, officer. what happens if they find out you're out here playing games instead of doing your job? you gonna lose that shiny little badge?"
the silence that followed was heavy. then, her hand moved from your neck to the back of your head, her fingers fisting into your hair so tightly your eyes watered and slammed it on the hood.
momo’s grip on your hair didn't loosen for a second. she heard your smart mouth, and the cold, predatory look in her eyes told you that you had just made a very big mistake.
"you're real brave for someone face-down on a police cruiser," she grumbled, her voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl.
she reached down to the side of her belt. you heard the heavy, metallic click-thwack of her collapsible baton extending to its full length. the sound was sharp and final, echoing off the brick walls of the dark alley.
"i don't use my belt on thieves," she hissed, leaning down until her lips were inches from your ear. "that's too soft for someone as loud as you. you need to remember exactly who owns you tonight."
she hiked your handcuffed arms up toward your shoulder blades, a sharp, cruel tug that forced your chest to arch off the car. you let out a choked gasp, your bravado vanishing into a sharp sting of pain. she leaned her entire body weight onto you, her heavy tactical vest crushing you against the metal.
finally, she brought the heavy, weighted stick down.
the first strike landed hard across the back of your thighs. it was a heavy, solid blow that made your vision white out for a second. The sound of it hitting your jeans was a dull, sickening thwack. you let out a sharp, broken scream, your body jerking against the hot metal of the hood, but her weight kept you pinned flat.
"i didn't say you can make a noise." momo said, her voice eerily calm now.
she swung again, hitting the same spot. the sting was immediate, a deep, throbbing heat that made your legs shake. you tried to twist away, your boots scraping uselessly against the gravel, but she just dug her knee into the back of your thigh to lock you in place.
"you wanted to talk about my badge?" she asked, the baton whistling through the air again.
thwack.
this time it hit the skin of your backside, the impact vibrating deep into your bones. "you want to talk about how i do my job? this is my job. keeping trash like you in line."
she leaned over you, her shadow completely covering your small, shaking frame. she tapped the cold, heavy tip of the metal baton against the nape of your neck, a silent threat that the next one could go anywhere.
the leather of her gloves creaked as she fisted her hand back into your hair. momo finally stopped because she wanted to admire her work.
she pulled your head back by your hair one last time, forcing you to look at the reflection of the alley’s flickering light in the polished metal of her baton.
“this is art” she hissed, her breath hot against your neck. “shaking like a leaf. where’s all that mouth now?”
she stepped back just enough to let you slump against the hood, but she wasn't done with your legs. she reached down and shoved your jeans down just far enough to see the damage. In the dim, sickly yellow glow of the streetlamp, the skin of your thighs was already starting to transform.
the marks were deep, angry welts that were turning a dark, bruised purple right before her eyes. the heavy, round shape of the baton had left perfect, rising ridges across your pale skin—thick lines of heat that throbbed with every beat of your heart.
she reached out and traced the edge of the largest bruise with a gloved finger. you hissed, your entire body flinching away from the touch, but she followed the movement, pressing her thumb firmly into the center of the swelling.
“these are going to stay for a long time,” she murmured, sounding almost proud. “rvery time you sit down, every time you walk, you’re going to feel me. a little souvenir from the night you thought you were clever.”
she gave the bruised flesh one last, sharp slap—making you cry out into the empty street before she yanked your clothes back into place. she grabbed the chain of your cuffs and hauled you toward the back door of the patrol car.
the gravel crunched under your dragging feet. momo flung the back door open, the interior of the car looking like a black pit.
“in. now,” she barked.
when you hesitated, your legs buckling from the lingering sting of the strikes, she lost her patience. she grabbed you by the back of your shirt and the seat of your pants, literally throwing you into the back. you landed hard on the cold, hard plastic of the seat. there was no fabric here, no cushion—just molded, unforgiving plastic that felt like ice against your throbbing thighs.
the door slammed shut with a heavy, pressurized thud that seemed to suck the air out of the cabin.
you were curled on your side, your wrists screaming in the cuffs, staring at the back of the reinforced cage that separated you from the front seat. the windows were tinted so dark that the outside world disappeared. you were in a rolling cage, trapped in the scent of floor mats and old coffee.
momo didn't get into the driver’s seat. instead, you heard her boots walk around the car, and then the other back door opened. the dome light flickered on, blindingly bright for a second, as she climbed into the cramped space with you.
the car slightly rocked under her weight. she sat on the edge of the seat, blocking the only exit, and pulled the door shut. now, the silence was absolute. it was just the two of you, the sound of your frantic breathing, and the smell of her leather gear filling the tiny, dark space.
she leaned over you, her shadow swallowing you whole. “aww, you look so much better in the back of my car,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to grab your throat, not to squeeze, but to hold you still. “let’s talk about what else you’re hiding in those clothes..”
momo sat there for a second, looming over you in the dark, her shadow swallowing what little light leaked in from the alley.
she grabbed your shirt and ripped it upward, the fabric catching on your chin before she balled it up and threw it onto the floorboards.
then came your jeans, she yanked them down with a force that made the metal of your handcuffs bite hard into your wrists. she tossed them aside and stared at you—bare, bruised, and shivering on the unforgiving plastic seat.
“so pretty..” she muttered, her voice dropping into a dark, gritty low. she reached out and pressed a heavy, warm hand directly over the deep purple welts on your thigh again. you let out a jagged, broken sound, your body trying to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. you were pinned between the door and her body. “i told you those would be deep. now the whole world can see exactly what happens when you’re a bad girl on my watch.”
momo leaned in, her own uniform shirt hanging open, her skin glowing a damp, pale red in the dashboard’s light. she smelled like rain and salt and cold authority. every breath you took felt like you were inhaling her. your heart was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was going to crack them.
you were dizzy, your skin slick with a sudden, heavy sweat that made you feel even more exposed.
“you’re burning up, baby..” she whispered, her lips almost touching yours. she could feel the heat radiating off you, the way your chest was heaving in the cramped space. “why is that? os the seat too hard? or is it because you’ve never had a woman like me take everything from you before?”
she ran her hand up from your bruised thigh, her palm dragging slowly over your skin until she reached your throat and kept her hand there, heavy and hot, forcing you to stay still while she looked you over like a piece of evidence she was about to destroy.
“the search isn't over, you know that right?” she growled, her eyes darting down to your mouth and then back up. “i know you’ve got a lot more hidden in you than just a diamond. and o’m going to stay in this car until I find every single bit of it.”
she shifted her weight, the plastic seat groaning under her, and moved her other hand to the chain of your handcuffs. she gave it a sharp, mean tug, pulling your bound hands upward and forcing your arched back to press flush against her warm chest.
“mmm,” she hummed into your ear, her teeth grazing the skin. she stayed there for a moment, watching you struggle against the plastic seat, her eyes dark and unreadable.
“you’re still shaking,” she noted, her voice a low vibration that seemed to fill the cramped space. “is it the cold?”
she reached for the front of her tactical vest, the sound of the velcro tearing, a sharp, aggressive skritch—echoed in the quiet car.
she peeled the heavy vest off, tossing it onto the floorboards, followed by the thick leather duty belt that held her baton and radio.
without the gear, she looked less like a wall of authority and more like a person but a dangerous one. she started unbuttoning her dark uniform shirt, her movements slow and deliberate.
“a proper search means we leave nothing to chance,” she murmured, her eyes locked on yours as she pulled the fabric from her shoulders. “and since you’re so fond of looking at things that don't belong to you, i figured i’d give you a front-row seat while I make sure you haven't tucked any more diamonds away.”
as the layers came off, the atmosphere in the back seat shifted instantly. the biting chill of the night was gone, replaced by a sudden, suffocating heat that radiated off her skin. you felt it hit you in a wave—a thick, heavy warmth that made the air feel thin. your heart, already racing from the discipline on the hood, kicked into a frantic new rhythm.
your face began to burn, a deep flush spreading down your neck that had nothing to do with shame and everything to do with the sight of her in the dim, red glow of the dashboard lights.
the car felt smaller than ever, the space between your bodies pulsing with a tension so tight it felt like it might snap. momo leaned closer, her bare shoulders brushing against your knees as she reached out. the heat coming off her was intense, making the sweat on your forehead turn cold.
“why are you breathing so hard?” she asked, a shadow of a smirk touching her lips as she noticed your wide eyes. she ran a warm hand up the inside of your bruised thigh, her touch light but possessive.
“the heater isn’t even on yet, but you’re burning up. is the thief finally feeling the heat?”
she moved her hand higher, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
"let's see if we can find where you're hiding the rest of my night's pay," she whispered, her voice dropping to a gravelly, intimate level that made your toes curl against the floorboards.
between the throbbing fire in your thighs and the weight of momo’s body, you couldn't take the tension. your head swam, and a heavy, desperate need replaced every other thought.
"oh god please.." you whispered, your voice breaking as your forehead dropped against her shoulder. you were too weak to hold yourself up.
"please, momo... stop waiting. take me. right now."
momo went still. the only sound left was the wet, frantic rhythm of your breathing. she pulled back enough to look at you, her eyes dark and blown out, reflecting the red pulse of the dashboard.
"what was that?" she asked, her voice a dangerous, low rumble. she gripped your hair, forcing your face up so she could see the desperation in your eyes. "you want me to take you? here? in the back of a patrol car like a stupid criminal?"
"y-yes.." you sobbed, the word catching in your throat. you leaned into her hand, your skin slick and burning. "i don't care. i want it. please."
and a slow, predatory smirk spread across momo's face. she liked this broken version of you much better than the bratty thief from the alley. she reached down, the leather of her gloves creaking as she unzipped her trousers.
the sound was incredibly loud in the small space.
"you’re pathetic," she murmured. Her touch was rough as she shoved your knees apart, forcing your bruised thighs wide. "begging a cop to ruin you in a dark alley. if only people could see you now."
she leaned in, her weight crushing you back against the door. you felt the cold metal of her badge press into your bare chest.
"since you asked so nicely," she hissed, her teeth catching your bottom lip, "i’m going to make sure you remember this every time you see a blue light for the rest of your life."
she shifted, settling between your legs, her hands locking onto your hips to keep you pinned.
momo’s eyes darkened at you now. she reached out and grabbed a handful of your hair, tilting your head back against the window.
"you want this so bad? fine," she whispered, her voice like grinding stones. "but here is the deal, thief. ee are in an alley. if you make a single sound.. if you so much as whimper—i stop and then i take you straight to the station. do you understand?
you nodded frantically, your breath hitching. she reached down, quickly removing her gloves and her fingers finally disappears between your thighs. the moment she touched you, the world tilted. she was rough, her movements blunt and demanding, mocking the way you had tried to act tough earlier.
at first she rubbed your already wet slit to collect your wetness then her first finger pushed inside you, and you had to bite your lip so hard you tasted blood to keep from screaming. the sensation was overwhelming—the heat of the car, the sting of the bruises on your legs, and the cold, unyielding pressure of her hand.
"shhh." she hissed, leaning in so her nose brushed yours. "i want to hear the wind outside. i don't want to hear you."
she added a second finger, stretching you out, her thumb pressing hard against your clit. you bucked against the plastic seat, your handcuffed wrists rattling against the door.
the sound of the metal clinking felt like thunder in the small space. momo’s eyes stayed locked on yours, watching the agony and the pleasure war across your face.
she picked up the pace, her hand moving in a steady, punishing rhythm. you buried your face in the crook of her neck, muffling your groans against her skin. she smelled like iron and rain, a scent that was now burned into your brain forever.
"take it," she murmured, her voice a low vibration against your ear. "hold it in. be a good girl and take it all in silence."
every hard thrust made your vision swim. you were right on the edge, your muscles coiling tight, your heart hammering a frantic beat against her chest. you wanted to scream her name, to beg her to go faster, but you stayed silent, terrified she would actually stop.
momo saw the way your eyes rolled back, and she knew she had you. she leaned down, her shadow completely covering your shaking body, and moved her head between your legs.
the heat from her breath hit your sensitive, aching skin, and you nearly jumped off the plastic seat.
"remember," she whispered against your inner thigh, her voice vibrating through your bones. "one sound, and we go to the station."
then, she replaced her fingers with her mouth.
the first touch of her tongue was a shock—hot, wet, and incredibly skilled. you slammed your head back against the window, a silent scream building in your throat. you clamped your teeth down on your own shoulder, the taste of your salt and skin the only thing keeping the noise inside. your body bucked, your handcuffed wrists frantic as they rattled against the door.
momo was relentless. she used her tongue with the same punishing authority she used with her baton. she knew exactly where to press, exactly how to make your vision blur into a mess of red and black. every flick to your clit made your hips jerk, your heels digging into the floorboards as you fought the urge to cry out.
the car felt like a furnace. you were drowning in the heat, the smell of the leather, and the intense, localized fire she was building between your legs. you squeezed your eyes shut, tears leaking out as the pressure mounted. it was too much. the silence was becoming a physical weight, a pressure in your lungs that needed to explode.
momo looked up for a split second, her lips and chun glistening in the dim light, a dark, challenging look in her eyes. she went back down, swirling her tongue in a way that made your toes curl and your stomach drop.
you were right on the edge. your muscles were coiled so tight they felt like they might snap.
you let out a muffled, desperate whine through your teeth—a tiny, tiny sound that was almost lost to the wind outside.
momo stopped instantly. she pulled back, her hand landing heavy on your chest, pinning you down.
"was that a noise?" she asked, her voice a low, dangerous purr. she hovered just inches away, making you ache for the return of her warmth. "breaking rules already.."
momo stared, her eyes narrow as she watched a single, desperate tear track down your temple. she lingered there, the silence in the car so heavy it felt like it might crush you. then, she let out a slow, dark exhale.
"i’ll pretend i didn’t hear that," she murmured, her voice a rough vibration against your skin. "but only because i want to see you break properly."
she dove back down, her mouth even more aggressive than before. she abandoned all restraint, her tongue swirling and pressing with a frantic, wet heat that sent jolts of lightning straight to your core.
you were a mess of shaking limbs and muffled gasps, your teeth sinking so deep into your lower lip you drew blood. the world narrowed down to the sensation of her lips and the cold, hard plastic beneath you.
the pressure built until it was a physical scream behind your ribs. you bucked upward, your bound wrists clashing against the car door with a final, desperate release. your entire body went rigid, your breath hitching into a silent, shaking sob as the wave finally crashed over you, leaving you limp and gasping for air that felt way too thick.
momo stayed there for a long moment, making sure you felt every bit of the aftershock. when she finally sat up, she looked entirely composed, save for the dark smudge of your scent on her lip. she reached over, grabbed your shirt, and shoved it back into your chest.
"dress," she commanded. "now."
her fingers moved to her belt, pulling out a small key. she reached behind you, and with two sharp clicks, the heavy weight of the handcuffs vanished. your arms fell to your sides, numb and tingling. you fumbled with your clothes, your hands shaking so hard you could barely guide the fabric over your skin.
momo climbed out of the back and opened your door. the rush of cold alley air was a shock to your system, making you shiver violently. she grabbed your arm, steadying you as you stumbled out onto the gravel.
she leaned in close, her shadow towering over you one last time. she reached into the pocket of your jeans—the one that used to hold a diamond—and slid a small, folded piece of paper inside.
"the diamond stays with me," she whispered, her thumb brushing the bone of your jaw. "consider it my fee for keeping you out of a cage. but if you ever feel like being a brat again... you know who to call."
she turned without another word, sliding into the driver's seat of the cruiser. you stood there, legs like jelly, watching as the red and blue taillights disappeared around the corner.
you reached into your pocket and pulled out the paper. scrawled in sharp, messy ink was a phone number and a single word: mine <3
Story: Chaeyoung and Momo get high on weed and Chae's girlfriend visits.
Warnings: Mentions of drugs (Weed), stoned Momo and Chaeyoung, slightly suggestive.
Author's note: I could picture Chaeyoung as a stoner.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
The dorms of the Korean national school of arts are filled with students. It’s late at night. Some rooms are pitch black, and others are filled with friend groups laughing about funny stories. The dorm belonging to Son Chaeyoung and Hirai Momo is lit in a soft yellow tone coming from fairy lights. Momo is sitting by the window, watching the people outside the dorm. She trails the path their taking with her eyes. Her pupils - slightly red and blown out - trace the shadows in the dark as they either leave or enter the college grounds.
Her roommate, Son Chaeyoung, is sitting on her bed. A guitar sits on her lap. The strings strummed by Chaeyoungs fingers. A lit joint trapped between the lips of Chaeyoung, shortening with every pull from the artist. The eyes of Chaeyoungs match the state of Momo’s. Both of them love getting high after a stressful day at college.
The sounds coming from Chaeyoungs guitar are random but not bad. Slow and languid strokes of the acoustic guitar fill the dorm room and haye the minds of the two women. Chaeyoung stares straight ahead at the poster filled wall in front of her. The wall that belongs to her roommate, but is used by her to display her newest art project.
Momo laughs at something she has spotted with her stoned eyes. Chaeyoung stops playing and slowly turns to her roommate.
“What’s so funny?” Chaeyoung murmurs while stopping the strumming of her fingers.
“Your girlfriend is coming. Why didn’t you tell me, Chaeyoungie?” Momo giggles while glancing back at Chaeyoung.
Momo only had a few hits. Most of the joint went into Chaeyoungs system as she had the blund in her mouth for at least ten minutes, her mind subcounciously pulling from the blund every once in a while. Her brain is away, gone beyond the stars in the galaxy, and exploring a new universe.
Chaeyoung giggles softly. “I invited her over today. Saw her at the cafeteria, you know?” Momo nods and turns her head to the window again. Her mind immediately focused on the people again.
Chaeyoung shrugs and starts palying again. The melody is slightly off but still beautiful.
Ten minutes pass, and someone enters the dorm room. Y/n enters the room and slightly stills at the intense smell of weed that has spread through the room. She shrugs and sits down next to Chaeyoung.
The two of them started dating only a few weeks after getting to college. Both immediately clicked and matched interests. Y/N often visits Chaeyoung in her dorm. She also doesn’t mind that the latter is smoking weed and burning away her brain cells with the amount that she is smoking.
Y/n gets comfy next to her girlfriend and kisses her cheek. Chaeyoung smiles and turns to Y/n.
“Hey. Missed you.”
“We haven’t seen each other for like four hours.” Y/n giggles and takes the Blund from her girlfriends lips. “Maybe you should stop smoking for tonight, or I might lose you to the weed.” She jokes while taking a hit herself. The drug slowly fills her lungs and sedating her brain.
Chaeyoung just watches with haye filled eyes. She leans in and lands a kiss on Y/n cheek.
Momo watches from the windowsill. She takes a few minutes to register the situation she's in and slowly gets up.
“Nice seeing you, Y/n. I think I was meant to see Nayeon tonight. I’ll leave you two to it.” The dancer mutters while slowly leaving, not before taking her shoes. Chaeyoung giggles and waves Momo off. Y/n stare after the dancer until a hand slowly pulls your face back.
Chaeyoung’s hand stays at her girlfriends cheek and then gently wraps around the side of her face. She smiles and stares her down. Y/n leans into the touch, the feeling of her girlfriends hand grounding her.
Music softly plays in the background. It’s one of Chaeyoungs recordings. She has contacts to some studio owners who allow her to record some songs every few months. The soft melodies echo through Y/n ears. She leans in and palces soft chast kisses on Chaeyoungs mouth. The latter replies by mirroring her kissing.
It takes them a few moments to break apart and catch their breaths, the weed in their system drowning out their sensations. Chaeyoung’s eyes yero in on Y/n. She, again, leans in and kisses her girlfriend. This time, though, the kiss is filled with much more intensity. Chaeyoung lets go of her guitar and uses both of her hands to cradle Y/n’s face. Their kissing turns more heated.
Chaeyoung only turns away to gently place away the guitar before almost falling over her girlfriend. A soft thud echoes through the room and disturbs the music playing in the background. Now, they’re laying on the bed, Chaeyoung, on top of Y/n. She leans over Y/n’s body and moves her kisses down her neck. Slowly, dark marks build up on the skin.
The night goes on with kisses and hickeys, both of them too lost in each other to notice their drowsiness. Eventually, they both fall asleep on Chaeyoungs bed. The latter wrapped herself around her girlfriend.
hi sha!!!!!! if you have time, i had a request i wanted to put in :)
may i request sana x reader where sana is suspicious that reader hasn’t been sleeping, and finds out that she was right and reader hasn’t been able to sleep well for a while because she’s been overthinking a bunch of shit all the time??? totally fine if not !!!!!!!! reader may or may not be me fr fr irl
hope your night is going super well :))))
- 🦦
⠀ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍
CASTING. minatozaki sana x f!reader
CONTAINS. fluff, light angst, insomnia, overthinking, long distance, hurt/comfort
WORDS. 1.2k
sha note ! been working on this for a while and my brain keeps getting distracted so id js end up staring into nothing after a few words but its finally here!! thank u, darling 💜🪽i hope youre doing okay too! please take care of yourself 🐹💜requests are open ‹𝟹
Sana knows your schedule like it’s her favorite song.
“Eleven, you’re in bed. Seven, you’re up.”
You used to roll your eyes every time she said it, but you followed it anyway. Not because you had to.
Because she cared.
Because it felt nice, being taken care of like that.
Sana’s sitting in a dressing room halfway across the world, legs tucked under her, quietly stealing gummies from a packet that definitely isn’t hers.
Someone’s curling her hair, another person lightly tapping blush onto her cheeks, the room full of chatter and movement and mirrors reflecting everything at once.
And still, her attention drifts to you.
Always to you.
She picks up her phone, smiling to herself as she types.
Sana: are you asleep already?
It’s habit.
A little knock on your door before she lets you rest.
Y/N: nope
Sana: it’s late
go to sleep, baby
Y/N: not sleepy
That’s… new.
The next day, she tries again.
Different city. Different room. Different set of hands fussing over her.
Same question.
Sana: are you asleep?
Same answer.
Y/N: no
By the third night, the pattern stops feeling cute.
Stops feeling like coincidence.
Starts feeling wrong.
Because you don’t do this.
You’re the one who nags her about sleep sometimes.
You’re the one who says “if you don’t sleep, you’ll get sick.”
You’re the one who always says goodnight first.
She doesn’t ask right away.
She counts the minutes between her messages and yours.
There are none.
You’re always there.
Like you never left your screen.
Like you never even tried to sleep.
On the fourth night, she stops pretending it’s normal.
Her fingers hover for a moment before she types.
Sana: baby
what time is it there right now
Y/N: 1:17
Sana inhales quietly.
You should’ve been asleep over two hours ago.
Sana: why are you awake?
Y/N: idk
That answer doesn’t annoy her.
It worries her.
Because “I don’t know” from you usually means “I don’t know how to say it.”
Sana: baby
you always sleep before 11
what’s going on?
She remembers.
Sana remembers everything about you that matters.
You curl a little deeper into your blanket, phone held close like it might anchor you.
Y/N: just can’t sleep lately
Sana: for how long?
Y/N: a while
Sana: how long is a while, baby
Y/N: since you left
That one lands.
Sana’s eyes soften immediately, something in her chest pulling tight.
She leans back slightly, ignoring the way someone calls her name in the background.
Everything else fades again.
Sana: is it because you miss me?
Your fingers hover.
You could lie.
Say no. Make it smaller. Easier.
But it’s late, and you’re tired, and your thoughts have been loud for too long.
Y/N: yeah
and i can’t stop thinking about stuff when it’s quiet
like everything at once
Missing her. Overthinking. No sleep.
All tangled together like earphones in a pocket.
Sana: can we call?
just for a bit
i’ll just stay with you while i get ready
you don’t have to talk if you’re tired
i just don’t want you to be alone right now
Y/N: okay baby
The call connects almost immediately.
Your screen fills with her—half-done makeup, hair rolled up, stylists moving around her like a quiet storm she’s somehow the center of.
“Hi, baby,” she says, voice low, like she’s careful not to overwhelm you.
“Hi,” you mumble, pulling your blanket closer.
She smiles softly.
Not the bright, camera-ready one.
The one that’s just for you.
“You look tired,” she murmurs.
You huff a small laugh. “I am.”
“Mhm,” she hums, like she expected that.
Her phone is propped up now, angled just right so she can keep you in view while someone works on her hair.
Every few seconds, her eyes flick back to the screen.
“Lie down properly,” she says gently.
“Don’t sit up for me.”
You obey without thinking, sinking deeper into your pillow.
“That’s better,” she murmurs.
For a while, she just talks softly between touches of lipstick, between hair adjustments.
Stories about her day. Complaints about how someone stole her snacks. A quiet “jeongyeon’s being annoying today” that makes you smile just a little.
She fills the silence so your thoughts don’t have to.
And every so often—
“You still with me?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.”
Your replies get slower.
Words blurring at the edges.
“Baby,” she says quietly, leaning a little closer to her phone. “you can sleep, okay?”
You shake your head slightly, eyes half-lidded. “Wanna stay…”
Her expression softens even more.
“I'm not going anywhere.” She promises. “Just close your eyes for me.”
You listen.
Because it’s her.
Sana doesn’t hang up.
Not even when staff start calling her for stage.
She waits until your breathing evens out.
Until your face relaxes in that way she hasn’t seen in days.
Weeks, maybe.
“Good night, baby.”
And ends the call.
The second they’re offstage, she’s moving.
Her bag is packed faster than usual. Conversations cut short with soft apologies.
“You’re leaving already?” Momo asks.
“Yes,” she replies, a small smile on her lips.
“I have to go home.”
Morning comes quietly.
No alarms. No thoughts clawing at you the second you wake up.
An arm draped over your waist.
Your brows knit slightly in your sleep, body shifting just a little and the arm tightens.
Like whoever it belongs to doesn’t want you going anywhere.
A soft press against your shoulder.
A kiss.
“…Sana?”
Your voice is rough with sleep, disbelief tangled in it.
“Good morning, baby.”
You turn so fast you almost tangle yourself in the blankets.
And there she is.
Hair messy, eyes soft, wearing your hoodie like she’s been there all night.
Your face lights up instantly.
“SANA?!”
She barely gets to react before you’re launching into her, arms wrapping tight around her like you’re trying to make sure she’s not about to disappear.
“Baby—” she laughs softly, catching you easily, arms coming around you just as tight.
“Easy, easy…”
But she’s smiling.
Big.
Because you’re smiling like that.
“You’re here,” you mumble, half-laughing, half-breathless, pressing your face into her neck.
“You’re actually here—”
“I’m here,” she murmurs, holding you closer, one hand sliding up into your hair.
You pull back just enough to look at her, like you still need visual confirmation.
“…You’re real, right?”
She snorts softly.
Then leans in and presses a kiss right to your cheek.
“Feel real?”
You grin immediately.
“Again.”
She doesn’t even question it.
Another kiss. Other cheek.
Then your forehead.
Then right at the corner of your lips, lingering just a second longer this time.
“Still questioning it?” she murmurs.
You shake your head quickly, laughing.
“No, no—keep going though.”
That earns you a soft, amused look.
“Greedy.”
But she indulges you anyway.
She missed you too.
Her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as she leans in, pressing a series of soft kisses everywhere she can reach.
Your cheek. Your nose. Your jaw.
Each one gentle. Unhurried.
Like she’s making up for lost time piece by piece.
You melt into it instantly, hands gripping onto her hoodie.
“I missed you so much,” you mumble.
“I know,” she whispers back, pressing another kiss on your cheek.
“I missed you more.”
“Impossible.”
You snuggle closer without thinking, eyes starting to droop.
“Sleep again,” she murmurs, hand gently running through your hair.
