ᎠƝᏆ
Homophobes, Transphobes, Ice Supporters, Basically like most DNI lists
Please know that what I listed in my fandoms and likes aren't all of it, mainly because I wanted to keep this short, so talk to me abt any fandom and I'll probably know it or at least have some idea of it^^
Credits to
@tsumiinum, @sisterlucifergraphics
For the dividers!!
MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE MANIFESTING A GOOD JUNE
if i'm with you featuring minatozaki sana x femme reader
synopsis: your relationship was taboo, sure, but why bother caring about that when what you had was so good?
word count: 1.1k
notes: shortfic, sugar mommy sana, sana's cheating on her husband for reader, fluff (?), not proofread
to some, your relationship could be seen as problematic— not that it ever mattered to you.
the off-handed insults that your friends would play off as jokes didn't phase you as much as they used to; they couldn't see you glaring them down from behind your designer glasses anyway. the curious stares from strangers in public were just as irrelevant, focus busied as you'd loop the handles of bags on your girlfriends arms. the softened eyes she'd send down at you, the ones tinged with a possession that could barely be placed, weighed heavier on you than any hypercritical passerby. it didn't tug at your heart the same when she had to retreat to her family anymore, the sharp pain replaced by a firm jealousy. the same jealousy you'd let take over your muscles as you tossed her down to the couch one last time, thighs caging in her legs, arms tangling behind her neck. you knew she liked it anyway, as if the grin you could feel through kisses wasn't enough, the controlling hands that tugged on your waist.
the only issue you ever had was when she'd come in with her husband, her daughter lingering close behind.
it was hard to play up the over-the-top barista customer service to the man who was so harshly gripping the hand of what was yours; harder to look in the eyes of the little girl that was a perfect mix of them both. maybe, though, it was the hardest to pretend you didn't know her.
if you knew anything, you knew minatozaki sana.
you knew the monochromatic shades she liked to wear the most, the colors that she'd immediately decline for new designs at her company. you knew how she looked when she just woke up, even if it was always hard to turn in her arms when she was gripping your waist so tight. you knew the her that did get stressed by the burdens of work. not the one that was always confident and effortless, but the one that would melt when you pressed your lips to her cheek, rubbed her shoulders softly as you draped over her. you knew who sana really was, not the picture perfect role model, the carefully constructed persona that she let the public perceive. you knew sana as she was, the one who's mind was tangled with issues and doubt, the damaged girl that grew to build barriers.
and, of course, you knew how she liked her coffee. her order was always penned in before her families, but she'd still repeat it, unlace her hands from the man beside her. it'd always make you smile, one a little too real, one you'd worry her husband would see through, but one reserved for her and her only.
"are you almost ready, doll?"
you'd almost forgotten you were sitting in front of your vanity.
the one that was cluttered, but still sleek, white, organized in a way only your mind could understand. you were ready, objectively, your makeup laid in the way sana loved the most, hair shining under the light, the small bow she insisted you wore tonight tied at the back. your dress was on already, the white satin heavy with quality, something custom, something gifted. your eyes darted away the second you caught the whisper of movement behind you.
"aren't i so lucky," sana's voice was low, almost restrained, her eyes rolling over your figure, your face, shameless. she stayed stationed, though, shoulder resting against your doorframe, hands clenching in on themselves. "you look so pretty, baby," the mutter barely reached your ears, but even in her most hushed whispers, you'd follow every word. even if you were a little distracted; the soft waves of her hair that met the ivory of her dress, the one that fit a little too well, making your ears burn red.
your heart, your pulse, finally catch up to your brain, "you look really pretty too, sana." your manicured hands, pretty nails, slide to the vanity to push yourself up. it's slow, unrushed, maybe a little teasing because you can see in the older woman's eyes how she wants you flush against her as soon as possible. each click of your heels against the floor made her jaw tense harder. "i'm wearing what you picked."
when you do reach her, strides falling quicker than you'd wished, a hand immediately dips to your waist, not firm, just there, claiming. she leans down, close enough to where you'd think she was going in for a kiss if her train of movement hadn't swayed, nose lingering right before your neck. she inhales, low and deep,
"you smell good, too," the exhale that follows makes your breath catch. when she moves she moves slow, free hand coming to cradle your neck where her nose just was, pulling away just enough to glare down at you. the rings that press to your skin chill the heat of her breath. "i wish i could flaunt you to the world, just how i want," sana's words are weighty, thick with emotion, gruff by her tone. "not in some private kitchen, not with tangled words in another country, but loud, messy," her thumb drifts, pressing to the center of your neck while you gaze up at her. "real, and with the sun above the horizon."
you know you don't have the exact words to answer, so all you're left to do is speak through action, leaning up, pressing your lips to hers. it's as if the restraint that lingered in her tone was out the window, the hand on your waist finally letting fingers sink in, the thumb on your throat digging just deep enough to dizzy you in the way you loved. the kiss is slow, though, the neediness from both of you slipping in just enough to make you whine into her mouth. her lips are soft and glossed just enough that you're sure you'll have to touch up once this is done.
"you're mine," sana huffs, only pulling you closer by your waist, kissing you deeper, teasing her tongue at your bottom lip. you, though, weren't in much place to respond, nor argue, so you only nod, hands grasping her forearms like you needed the stability. when she pulls away and you can feel your knees buckle, though, you're glad you were holding on. she smiles, warm, knowing, ignorant to your gloss that's tainted her mouth. "all mine, doll," her thumb releases your neck, trailing upward, wiping at where she had stained you. "what if we just ordered food tonight and stayed in?"
"of course," you find yourself fixing her lips too, just with your pointer finger, giggles slipping out breathlessly. "as long as i'm with you."
problematic or not, you'd take all the merciless jokes, the insolent stares— all of it, if it meant you had her.
