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madamechrissy · 6 months ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. Also, Cunnilingus first chap

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.3k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name.

Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? 💓Materlist💓

(If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓) Lawyer AU

Chapter 1

The music throbbed in your chest, vibrating against your ribs as you navigated the packed dance floor. You weren't much of a club person, but your good friend Maki insisted you needed to 'let loose' after a particularly stressful week doing the LSATS. It had definitely taken its toll on all of you and your friends, but you’d passed, now finally in one of the top law schools after your Bachelors.

Now, surrounded by a sea of bodies writhing to the beat, you were unsure what the appeal was, overwhelming your senses. The heat of the crowd, the energy radiating from every corner of the room, people so close as you stood there it was as if you could not breathe. Everyone was dancing wildly in the club, a club you felt out of place in.

For years you’d pretty much holed yourself up in your room or overachieved in class. you had no time for boyfriends, distractions, fun… not if you wanted a top score and a killer internship.

You were ambitious as fuck.

Maki said you should all be proud, let loose… have fun but you’d damn near forgotten how to.

Maki was dancing with Yuta now, another boy going to the same law school as you two, they wave at you through the crowd, you smile and wave back, then decide to face everyone and go grab a drink finally. You were more of a wallflower than anything, preferring to be at home with a good book rather than dancing around on various college boys, you wish you were a little more fun.

You head over to where the bar is, shyly getting the attention of the bartender, grabbing a cranberry vodka. The social anxiety was creeping in so you figure the alcohol will fix it.

You turn, then smash into someone.

“Shit!” You look at the broad chest you’d bumped into, the only thing in your field of vision, of a very expensive looking shirt you’d just dropped cranberry vodka all over, spreading through the fancy fabric quickly, luckily, it was a navy blue, but you still panicked. You snatch up a ton of napkins and start frantically wiping at it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Can I pay for drycleaning? Do I need to buy one? I-”

A hand grabs your wrist, big, enveloping it like you were nothing, and your eyes finally rise up to the tall man in front of you, a smirk playing on handsome features. His eyes were the most striking thing about him, blue as the sky after a storm, sparkling with something devious, fringed by white spiky lashes. His face was so pretty it nearly hurt to look at.

Full lips, perfect model cheekbones, a strong jaw line… literally looking like he stepped out of GQ or something. His silvery white hair was striking, and he stood well over a foot taller than you, imposing, tempting…and your hand was on his chest, clutching crumpled napkins, your wrist in that firm grip.

You froze, overwhelmed, confused by your reaction… you’d met plenty of gorgeous men in your life, you had handsome male friends, but something about him drew out something primal in you… Something…

The fuck. The dude has you wet?

Jesus maybe you were due for a good fuck.

Maki was right.

“It’s all right, lots of women have this reaction. I’m just really ridiculously good looking.” He says with a grin, easing the grip off your wrist, taking your hand now, you gasp, mouth open, unsure of what to say. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re… arrogant as fuck! Wow.” He laughs, deep and baritone, and fuck if he isn’t even more attractive as he does.

“And you’re clumsy as fuck.” You sigh, covering your face now.

“I’m so sorry… I am clumsy, ugh. Can I try to get the stain out, please, I feel awful.” He snorts in laughter, looking down at you, intense gaze seeing right through you somehow. His look follows down your body, your low cut little crop top that was nothing like you were usually in, your little skirt…

“Trying to get me naked, hmm?” You scowl as he grabs your waist, but then some sensation hits you… the warm grip and his big fucking hands burn as they touch your bare skin. You falter, in confusion, for you had not even had a drink yet to account for such things.

“I am not at all! I just feel bad. I…” You wouldn’t mind seeing him naked, but you shove that thought down deep in the recesses, clearing your throat with a little blush, for his hand is still on your waist.

“Your own outfit is stained, baby girl. Look.” You peek down and realize what he’d been staring at. “My shirt’s dark, it'll be fine. We need to get that cleaned up.”

“It's okay, it's silky, it should come off.” You now rub the stain on your chest, which he openly looks at, sipping his own drink.

“You look like you don’t belong here.” He gestured to the crowded, loud club, full of dancing bodies, pool tables with beer pong set up, there was even a drunken Giant Jenga game, loudly crashing blocks. You looked back up to him, lost in that gaze, it was as if his eyes held your attention there.

“I don’t belong here.” You managed to say, and he brushed a lock of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. God, how did just those little actions turn you on so much? “I don’t go out to clubs, I don’t really even do shit but study. My friends over there…” You point them out. “They are making me try.”

He smirks as he looks over at them. “Well, shit, then you should give it a shot. Want me to grab you another drink?”

“Oh no, I owe you one if anything. Can I buy you one?” He shrugs casually, smirking a bit.

“I’m so pretty a girl is buying me drinks, hmm?” You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head.

“Just tell me what you like.”

“Something sweet.” He whispers, leaning over you a bit, behind you, chest against your back, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, you wave back at the bartender, who takes pity on you.

“On the house, sweetheart.” He winks, and you blink in surprise.

“Oh thank you so much.” The bartender leans over a bit, smiling, and you feel this stranger next to you tense. “Can I also get a chocolatini?”

“Yummy.” He says next to you, and the bartender just looks at him, then eases back, smiling and handing it to you too.

“Thanks so much again.” You tip him big with a smile, then hand the white haired god next to you the little chocolate drink.

“Hmm, what is this?” He asks, icy blue eyes staring into the glass, stirring the chocolatey liquid around.

“It’s sweet. Try it.”

He takes a sip, licking his full lips, distracting you. “Mmm, this is perfect, shit.” He sips it, moaning and closing his eyes, and it pushes wild thoughts, addling your mind. “Okay, forgiven for the mess.”

“Good.” You start sipping your drink and sighing, letting the tart bite hit your tongue.

“Satoru, by the way.” He says, in that deep voice, a baritone that hit octaves that did wild things to your psyche. You look up at him, realizing just how close you are, feeling overheated. You tell him your name, softly, and he repeats it, sounding far too good on his lips.

“Well, it's nice to literally run into you, Satoru. I guess.”

“Usually I get girls wet, not the other way around.” He says audaciously, with a wink, you snort in laughter.

“You’re something else.” You say with an eye roll, then peek over to see Maki drunkenly making out in a corner, grinding her ass on Yuta as they dance. “Ah shit, I don’t think I’m gonna have my friends tonight. Third wheel life, but they’re my good friends who deal with me being antisocial.”

“You did seem pretty fucking awkward.” He says teasingly, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Dick.” You snort, sipping your drink, the music hits and it’s one of your favorite songs, but you’re too nervous to do anything, just standing there. You peek up at him in surprise. “You don’t have to hang out over here, I am sure your friends want to hang out with you.”

“Yeah… they’re all out of here at this point. I was heading out too, just closing up the tab when you ran into me.” You suddenly feel a weird sense of disappointment that should not exist.

“Oh…” You sip your drink again, hips ever so slightly swaying to the beat of the music, body starting to feel the warmth as the liquor slides through you. “Well it was nice meeting you though? And you got a chocolatini?”

“Yes, and it is yummy.” He stands there, and your eyes lock, something just pulling you towards the man too gorgeous to exist in this world, the conceited little shit who smelled really fucking good. You expect him to leave, but he just stands, sipping his drink, eyes lowering to your hips as they sway.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” You ask, leaning your head to the side, hair falling. He casually brushes it back, you struggle not to show how much you like it, casual fucking little caresses when you're touch starved as it is. But especially from him for some reason.

“I was just hanging out with my friends, Suguru and Kento. Just unwinding a bit, we get together once a month at some random place and get lit.” He sips more of his drink, somehow you’ve gotten closer.

“Oh, that sounds like fun though. I swear I don’t think I’ve been to a club? Is that really pathetic?”

“You’re kinda boring huh?”

“Maybe. I apparently need to let loose and have fun since I got my Bachelors degree.”

“It’s not the worst idea. You like this song don’t you?” He asks softly, and you feel your heart race, nervously trying to stop the swaying of your body to the beat. You nod, instead, and he takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I… what are we…”

“Let’s dance. That'll loosen you up a bit.”

“I don’t know how to…” You say softly, confused, he laughs a bit, shaking his head and setting your empty drinks on the bar.

“Everyone can, just follow your body.” He's so confident and self assured.

Satoru is leading you to the dance floor, the music pounding in your ears along with your erratic heartbeat. He pulls you against him, his scent hits you, something intoxicating about it. He pauses for a moment, looking down at your face intently. Even in your heels you have to crank your neck back to look at him, intimidating in his presence.

“What do I… how do I do it?” You ask, he clears his throat, smirking again, turning you so your ass and back are against him, you gasp just a bit. His hands hit low on your hips, so warm through them, luoure hot and sticky between your thighs.

“Feel the beat of the song.” He murmurs in your ear, moving your hips in a figure eight motion with those big hands. Why were they so big? Fuck. “You’re too tense, close your eyes and just focus on the music and me.”

His words were a velvet caress, you’d do anything he asked when it sounded like that, it was pathetic almost. You close your eyes, and your other senses are heightened then, feeling his touch, hard body behind you, inch by inch, the fabric of his expensive clothes brushing on your bare skin.

“Like that?” You ask, moving your ass a bit side to side, he shakes his head, grabbing your hips, desire shoots through you.

“Nah, loosen up more. There, like that.”

You let your body sway with his, feeling the heat between your skin, the soft brush of his hips against yours, his hand sliding up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, and you gasp as his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a jolt of want.

His hips begin to move against yours, a slow, steady rhythm, and you lose yourself to the music and him, the way he holds you when you face him now, the way he feels, hard lithe body against yours. His hands move up and down your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly, making you shiver, a crazy ache wracking through your body.

You tilt your chin up to look at him, arms around his neck, and find his ethereally gorgeous eyes locked onto yours, pupils dilated, making the blue rings of his eyes glow in the blinking lights of the dim club, and his full lips are parted. He's just dripping fucking sex, he’s way too attractive, it was difficult to keep moving and not just stand there and stare at him.

Satoru seems just as lost in this moment as you are, and it only makes you want him more… fuck you didn’t do this, you didn’t think of these things, you had too much to do, too much to focus on. But fuck… would it be the worst thing? To let yourself lose it in the moment, just go with it?

Were you looking too into it?

The music fades out in your head now, the thudding of your heart pounding in your ears, as you feel the way his hips still move against you, the way your hands grip his neck now, you both are just swaying. You’re on your tip toes in heels and nowhere near his height, and it makes you hornier, how fucking big he is, even his hands. He makes you horny, some random stranger you spilled a drink on in the club.

The air feels thick, almost heavy, and for a moment, hard to breathe as both of your eyes stay locked on each other, his hands slide down your hips, they’d been respectful, but they grow bolder. Every beat of the music vibrates through you, along with something maddening, you’re drawing closer and closer to him.

“How am I doing now?” You ask, breathless, he smirks, fucking hot and arrogant as fuck, drawing you in further.

“You’re not too bad.” He teases, you roll your eyes, easing back, but he grabs you to him, hands on your ass now, and you pause, as he grips it, an ass cheek in each of his big hands. “Now that… that’s fucking nice.”

“My ass?” You ask, laughing, he nods, grinning with those fangs of his glinting in the dark smoky room. “Handsy, huh?”

“Want me to stop?” He asks, and you shake your head, looking down a bit, he takes one of his hands, easing your chin up to look at him. Your pulse is hammering in your throat, as he bends lower, you stare at those lips, growing hot everywhere, breath in little pants.

“Oh! Oh…” Maki comes up behind you, and you pause, whirling your head to look at her, she has a big giant grin on her face. “Well, well, introduce me.”

“This is…”

“Satoru.” He smiles, nodding over to her, but he didn’t let you go, he didn’t even move the hand on your ass until you smack at his hand. He glares, as if you’ve taken a toy from him.

“Maki. I was gonna let you know I’m heading out soon, I figured you would wanna come with… or are you… hmm, hanging out more?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, you cover your face in embarrassment.

“I think he was leaving, weren’t you?” You look up at him, his grip tightens just a bit on your waist.

“I am leaving soon, yeah. Can she stay a little longer hmm?” He asks with puppy dog eyes, leaning on your shoulder. Maki rolls her eyes, nodding.

“I’ll give you all another twenty to… dance? I’ll find ya.” She kisses your cheek, and runs off, surely to tell Yuta. You peer back up at Satoru curiously. His gaze has gone from flirtatious to hungry.

“Did you wanna dance more?” You ask, and he laughs a bit.

“I’d like to eat you out.”

“Wha-?”

“Mmhmm.” He’s just standing there, after saying something so fucking wild, your brows dip low in confusion, and your pussy is wet as fuck.

Shit.

“I… huh?”

“I said I-”

You shut his mouth with your hand, yanking him down to do so, he’s so damn tall, and he’s laughing behind your palm. “I heard you! God…”

“You seem so tense.” He murmurs, easing your hand down, then he kisses it, but it’s not gentlemanly, it’s fucking devious, those eyes are insane. “And you’re crazy fucking hot.”

“Me? You… you are.”

“Aw you think I’m hot?” You sigh, looking down for a moment. “Time is ticking, we have less than twenty, and I like to take my time.”

“Jesus… you just wanna eat me out?”

“What, you haven’t done it?” You look away, clearing your throat, and anticipation is eating at you. “Oh fuck, you haven’t!”

“Shush. Why do you want to just do that?”

“It’s fun, duh.” He rolls his eyes at you, as if it were so simple. Your cunt throbs around nothing now, and you look at his lips.

“Don’t most men ask for a blow job?”

“Not men. Boys. I’m a man, baby girl.”

He practically purrs those words, and you’re getting even wetter. “We haven’t even kissed?”

He leans down, wrapping an arm around your hips, lifting you up, like you’re just some doll. Your breath comes out in a squeak, and his lips are pressed on yours now, your arms wrap around his neck, and he’s kissing you as your legs dangle. You open your mouth, moaning, as his tongue slides in, against your own, shooting desire down through you.

“Better?” He whispers, kissing you softer, little pops of kisses. You moan into his lips, tasting his minty breath, mixing with the sweet drink you’d made him.

“I don’t ever do this.” You breathe out. “I… fuck… okay?”

“Yeah?” You nod.

“Yeah.”

Satoru eases you down, and then you’re wildly following him through the throngs of dancers and clubgoers, until he’s knocking, and you all are slinking into the club’s rather fancy fucking bathroom. You contemplate your life in those moments, but when you’re in the bathroom and he’s shoved you against the door, kissing you again, you just go with it.

He feels so good.

“You’re a good kisser, fuck.” You murmur against his lips, he grins, and you realize you’re inflating his ego.

“Mmhmm, I am. I’m even better at this.” He drops to his knees, and your heart is in your throat, your eyes are wide as he’s lifting your skirt up, easing your panties down, smirking up at you.

“Mnh…” Is all that you manage, when he takes them fully off, putting one of your thighs on his shoulder, kissing the sensitive inner part of it. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, entire body trembling. “Fuck…”

“Say my name, pretty. Satoru.” He orders, and you nod, then your hand gently goes through his hair, silky and perfect against your touch.

“Satoru… I… you sure?”

“If you want it.” You nod, maybe too eager, and his head dips, shoving your skirt up your hips, and he flicks his tongue up your slit. You cry out, trembling at the sensation, so fucking good your hips jerk. “You’re soaked…” He whispers, peeking up at you with those eyes.

You just nod again, you’re at a loss for words now, gulping, and he’s back down there, moaning against your clit, and you gasp as pleasure hits you hard, clenching in your tummy and spreading. His tongue is hot against you, pressure just perfect on your little clit, your hands enwrap further, gripping his hair, and he’s fucking moaning, vibrating on your cunt.

“Satoru…” You cry out, and you’re pulsing around nothing, wetness pouring out of you in spurts, he drinks you up, the sounds obscene in the little bathroom, the music and loud people fading further and further.

“You taste so good.” He murmurs as he pulls back a bit, you manage a mumbled thank you that he smiles at, his eyes are even brighter, a madness almost in them that surely matched your own. You caress his face, thumb rubbing on his lip, mixed with your cum and his saliva, and he moans then, yanking your hand down to your clit. “Feel how wet I’ve got you.”

“Fuck! Mnh…” You feel your slickness against your own fingers now, shaking as you hit your now swollen clit.

Satoru puts your hand back on his head, dipping back down, devouring you, and you hear how wet you are, hear him slurping you up, you’re falling apart, unraveling for this stranger. A guy you just met in a damn nightclub, what is wrong with you? But he’s giving you an unreal amount of pleasure, you’re pulsing now when he slides a long, thick finger in you.

Someone knocks.

You curse.

“Keep quiet, pretty, they’ll hear you.” He winks up at you, and you nod, holding a hand to your face, arching your hips up for more of his touch, his mouth, and he’s working your clit with his tongue as he’s massaging your g spot with his fingertip, it’s too much, too much.

“Mnh!” You struggle to hide your moans, more people are knocking, it’s banging against your back, and Satoru’s devouring you, every bit of your cunt, and you feel yourself start to shake, pleasure shooting through your entire body, your walls are tightening around those long fingers, stretching you out so deliciously. “Satoru… I… too much…”

“Shush.” He peers up at you, those gorgeous goddamn eyes, his eyes are heavy lidded with desire, his face is half covered in your slickness, glistening. “Cum on my face, let me drink you up.” His voice is deep, hoarse, and you start falling apart on his fingers, he grins, devious. “That’s it. Cum for me, pretty.”

He’s back down there, and his finger hits just so, his tongue flicking faster and faster on your aching clit, and you slam both hands on your mouth as he holds your hips up, burying his face. You fall apart, cumming so hard you can’t even see, it’s all blackness, your ears are buzzing, your body is shaking. You reach down blindly, to balance on his shoulders, and he’s drinking it up.

He’s drinking you.

Fuck.

His tongue flicks a couple more times, as more people bang on the door you rested back on, and he pulls back finally, grinning up at you, having just wrecked you completely. You can’t breathe, you can’t stand, he’d just casually given you the best orgasm of your life, and not even known you, not even known your body…

“Fuck.” You manage, and he stands then, kissing you, bending low, cupping your face with those big hands.

“See how good you taste?” He murmurs, flicking his tongue on your lips, all you can do is moan. He laughs a bit at you. “Those eyes after cumming… yep… that’s the hottest shit I’ve seen.”

“My eyes? Have you seen…”

Someone opens the door then, and you curse, yanking your skirt down, Satoru just casually leans over to look, scowling. “Excuse me, I’m busy.”

“Oh shit, sorry…” The drunken guy who’d broken in stumbles back, and then you hear him throwing up.

Satoru rolls his eyes, and then you both leave, you absentmindedly notice your panties are in the bathroom, up on the damn counter, and run embarrassingly back in to snatch them up. You run back out, trying to see where he went off to, but it’s a chaotic mess, everyone is going this way and that, and before you know it, you can’t even see him, so short compared to all of the people.

Maki comes and grabs your hand, and you follow her, searching for him, where could a tall man with white hair hide anyway?

“What’d you do, oh my god!” She turns you to her, you errantly notice everyone around you getting rowdier, there are crazy fights even breaking out. “You got freaky in the club bathroom didn’t you?”

“Oh god, Maki, shh!” Your skin is bright red now, she’s grinning like a crazy woman.

“He was hot! Get his number?”

“No and… I don’t see him, shit.” You’re trying to look around, Maki does too, but no sign of him. You all look for another five minutes, as things are getting rowdy with a couple of the club goers, fighting over some girl. You both sigh. “Dammit, I really… I think I like him, Maki, and he’s gone. Ugh.”

“It’s okay, love, you’ll run into him again.” She squeezes your hand, and your mind goes to him, to Satoru, who has brought you so much pleasure so quickly. “Ooh, look him up!”

“Is that… stalker ish? I only have his first name…”

“Nah. He seemed interested. Let’s get us home and then we’ll see if he has socials or anything, we’ll find him.”

You sit in the back of the car with Maki and Yuta, who are just making out the entire time, staring out the car window at the street lights that pass. You can’t shake the thoughts of him, of Satoru… you pick up your phone, typing his name in Facebook, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Tiktok? You doubt it, but you try… and, nothing.

Without a last name you were screwed, but there weren’t even any ‘Satoru’ profiles that you could find. Cursing internally, you lay your head back in frustration. You didn’t even tell him you liked him, you just… came on his fucking face? An arrogant, gorgeous man’s pretty face. His tongue had done things that had…

Shit.

Two months later, you found yourself sitting in the lecture hall at the beginning of law school, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation for the journey ahead. You take out your little laptop, hands sweaty and nervous, wishing Maki and Yuta were in this class with you. You were in an advanced program, having scored so high, so you were thrown in with more experienced students.

You also had a big chance at the coveted internship with the top law professor, who taught this very class. You peek at your syllabus, this is supposed to be the top young professor that everyone kept going on about, his name was Professor Gojo. You open up your laptop now, popping open the note taking app on there, when a chatter begins.

As the professor walked in, you barely looked up at first, seeing a tall, lithe body in a pinstripe suit. You look back down, turning off your phone to be safe, hearing the women in the class murmuring.

“He’s so hot!” They kept whispering, you peek around curiously, then look back up to him, seeing a shock of silvery white hair.

Your heart falters.

As he began to introduce himself, writing his name on the board, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him - Satoru.

The man that had made you cum with his mouth.

He was your fucking law professor?

Shit.

As Satoru- or, Professor Gojo apparently, spoke, his eyes met yours, that piercing blue across the room, almost as if he was looking through you. He pauses for a moment, full lips opening then closing, before clearing his throat, putting back on a smirk and an air of arrogance.

“Professor Gojo, welcome to Criminal Law. I assume there are mostly second years. Any first semester students?” You and two others are the only ones that raise your hands. “Interesting. Your name?” He asks the girl to the right of you.

“Yuki.” She answers softly.

“And yours?” He asks the other guy to the left of her, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he saunters across the room, like he fucking owns it, commanding the attention of everyone. The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

“Ijichi.” He says.

Professor Gojo looks at you, and your pulse hammers in your throat, like it’s about to explode. You cannot breathe as his blue eyes laser focus on you, those frosty white lashes framing them, you remember him staring up at you, between your thighs, on his fucking knees.

“And you, your name?” You quietly give him your name, and he smirks at you, upturn to those devious fucking lips. You try not to wriggle under his gaze, tilting your chin up instead. “Ah. All right, so tell me why you’re here today.”

“To attend class?” The class laughs a bit, Gojo just grins, shaking his head at you.

“No, why are you here?”

“To become a lawyer.” You answer, firmer, as he walks up towards you now, stepping up the stairs of the large class and leaning on your desk with one of his long arms, big hand clutching the wood. Hands you can’t help but fucking stare at.

“Aren’t they all? But why did you choose to be?” He asks, leaning forward just a bit. You take a shaky breath, then look directly into that bright blue gaze of his, licking your lower lip, his eyes drop right to the action.

“I wanted to make a difference in people's lives. I want to give voices to those that may not have one.” You murmur, and he exhales, smirk back on, nodding.

“We all start for that, surely. Don’t we?” He asks the class, they nod, attentive to every word of his. He turns, walking back down the stairs and starting to write on the board.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a flush creeping up your neck as you think of that night, burned into your goddamn brain for months. You were the one making those sounds, those moans, as he drank you up, you remember the taste of him, the feel of his tongue on your sensitive skin.

Your fingers itch to touch yourself, to remember how good it felt, and you burn with shame and embarrassment. The amount of times you had played with yourself thinking of him was borderline pathetic, and now here he was, mysterious little shit, and unattainable.

Fuck.

“Don't worry, we'll get along just fine, I’m pretty relaxed mostly. You could say I have the ‘rizz’.” He winks, and everyone snorts in laughter, but you can’t even focus. “I was where you were just a few years back. So it’s doable to advance if you bust your ass. Understood?”

They all nod, enraptured by him. Who wouldn’t be.

“But first, a few rules before we begin. One, you will address me as Professor Gojo, or Gojo, not my first name. I am very friendly and accessible as a teacher but that’s one thing I do ask.”

Satoru. Satoru… you’d fucking cried out. Jesus.

“Two, you will be respectful of your classmates and their opinions, and hear them out, even if the opinions are shit.” They break out in laughter again. “Shit opinions can be shit on later. Let em finish the dumb thoughts first, so I can fix them.”

They’re all nodding, they women are all swooning, he commands the entire goddamn room.

“Three, there will be no cell phone use during class unless it’s something important, which you can step out for. You spend enough time on your Instagram and Snap at home, not here. Using your laptop is fine for notes, not tentacle porn hentai, heathens.”

They burst out laughing now, and even you giggle, bringing his eyes to lock upon you, drinking you in.

“Do you understand these rules, class?"

When he pauses, your gaze meets his again, and you feel like you're drowning in those blue eyes. Does he remember you even? Did he care? A man that looks like him surely has numbers in the stratosphere, and he hadn’t bothered to get your number. Had he dipped all together?

Did he even like it?

Fuck.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice amidst the chaos in your head. You manage to croak out a "Yes, Professor Gojo," with the class before looking down at your desk.

“Perfect. All right, so… Yuki, was it?” The girl nods eagerly. “Now, let's say that a student in this class was to break into my office and steal an exam. What would the possible criminal charges be?"

"Well, Professor Gojo, the student could be charged with burglary, as they entered the office without permission. Additionally, depending on the value of the exam, it could also be considered academic fraud punishable by law."

He nods. “Well said. Now… you.” He says your name, and you sit up straight, panicking, you can't help but notice the way he's looking at you. There's an intensity to his gaze that makes your heart race.

“Yes, Professor Gojo?”

He pauses, fixing you with his piercing blue eyes. "A similar scenario, but change it up. Let’s say you have invited me to your apartment, to stay the night, because I’m so charming.” He winks at the class, who are in a fit of giggles, and peers back at you. “You faint, because I was just that good looking, an understandable response.” He’s walking up to you. You raise a brow.

“I have a stronger constitution than that, Professor Gojo.” The class now gasps, some giggling at your answer. He grins, those white teeth blinding, fangs like a damn vampire showing.

“I see, impressive. But, nevertheless, you’re asleep, and you have invited me to stay the night. What if I steal an item of yours?”

The room goes silent as his words sink in. You feel your heart racing, your palms sweating. You try to gather your thoughts, but you can't help but feel unsettled by his line of questioning, of the images he’s painting in your overheated mind. Him in your damn apartment, between your…

"Well?" He prompts, leaning forward slightly. "What would you think is the appropriate course of action in such a scenario? Seeing as you have trusted me, a very handsome stranger, put yourself in the situation. With no proof."

You swallow hard, feeling a knot forming in your throat, it's as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, to make you feel vulnerable and exposed. You try to compose yourself, to remember what you know, but you can't help but feel like you're drowning in the intensity of his presence, hard to breathe even.

"In that situation, Professor Gojo, I believe that the law would still consider it theft, even if you had a personal connection to me. The item would still belong to me, and taking it without my permission would be a violation of my rights." You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "However, I also think that the court might take into account the nature of our relationship and any possible mitigating factors, such as your intentions or remorse."

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think you see a glint of amusement in them. "An interesting answer," he says, "But remember, the law is not always concerned with intentions or mitigating factors. It is often a cold, impersonal thing, meant to uphold the greater good."

“That can be true, though without proof of having something I also think you would possibly get away with it. I haven’t itemized and taken pictures of everything in my home, so it could be hearsay.” He nods approvingly at that, grinning.

"That’s correct. Fortunately, however, I don't intend to break into your home anytime soon, so you won’t be fainting. From me at least.” The class laughs a bit at his joke, and you can feel your cheeks flush.

“You can break into my house!” Comes a shout from the back, and Gojo throws his head back in laughter, heading back down the stairs, along with the class.

“Calm down, heathens. Now listen, itemizing things or taking pictures is a good idea. So that when you invite handsome strangers you at least have something to go on. So, you all want to be lawyers, to help others, correct?”

Everyone nods.

“You could say that I was drawn to it for similar reasons to all of you.” He sits in his large office chair, tall brown leather, leaning back casually, throwing his legs up on the large desk. “Personally, I found the intricacies of the law fascinating, and I wanted to make a difference in people's lives too. Like you.” He nods to you, and you want to fall into a goddamn hole.

“But I also saw the potential for it to be used as a tool for justice, or perhaps even revenge in some cases, you can be a regular vigilante batman." His voice drops, taking on a more serious tone, intriguing you now, as did his every movement. "As your professor, my goal is to help you navigate these complexities and find your own path within the legal system. Whether that path leads you to is all up to you."

The classroom feels heavy with his words. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you yet again, and you feel as if he's not just talking about your future as a lawyer anymore. There's an intensity to this moment that you can't quite explain, and it leaves you feeling both exposed and strangely alive, every sense thrumming, including unfortunately your cunt.

Cunt he’d licked.

Fucking kill me.

When he licks his lips, you’re wrecked, how you’d focus at all today would be some sort of miracle.

The time passes quickly, and before you know it, the bell rings signifying the end of class. He is electrifying and intriguing as a teacher just as much as he was at the bar, the random dude that kissed you, that danced with you… was your first…

You gather your belongings, slowly making your way towards the exit. You feel a gentle yet insistent tap on your shoulder. You freeze, and turn around, finding yourself face-to-face with Professor Gojo, or Satoru? What would you call him in your head, and what did it matter. Your throat goes dry.

"Professor Gojo?" You say, a little taken aback, the class is filing out, leaving just the two of you in the huge lecture hall.

"Can you stay after for a moment?" He asks, and you gulp, desire shooting through you mixed with apprehension. You nod, feeling a sudden urge to run your hands through your hair or fiddle with something to steady your nerves.

“Sure.”

“Have a seat.” He says softly, going to shut the door with a click that echoes in the room, you feel like some high schooler about to get punished, but instead of worrying you the very thought thrills you far more than it should.

Stop thinking like that.

"What the fuck, Satoru?” You stand still as he comes walking back to you in long strides. You fold your arms in front of your chest, scowling up at the tall gorgeous man. “What even happened…"

"Shh." He covers your mouth with fingertip, then his thumb is tracing your bottom lip, want shoots through you hot, tummy clenching hard as he looms over you. "You're in my class now, and I need you to focus.”

“Fucking focus? On what? It’s goddamn near impossible.” You smack his hand off of you, glaring.

“I said. Have. A. Seat.” He whispers, commandingly, and for some fucking reason you listen, sitting down in his giant leather seat, as he sits up on the desk, casually crossing his stupidly long legs. “That’s better, pretty.”

“Do not even call me that.” You hiss, and he chuckles at you, rolling his eyes, shaking his head.

“Why are you mad at me when you just disappeared that night?” His thin white brows go low over his eyes, and you blink in confusion, frowning.

“Me? No, you. What six foot whatever-”

“Six-Four.”

Fuck that’s tall. “What Six-foot-four white haired dude just disappears in a crowd? Clearly you left. And if you didn’t like what we did, you could have just let me know and stopped! I-”

He’s standing in front of you now, arm on either side of you, glaring deeply into your eyes. You’re panting, he’s so fucking close… “You think I didn’t like eating your pussy?”

You’re dead silent, all the drive and determination has left you, nothing at all is there but an insane desire for it again. The memories wash over you. You manage a little nod, and he laughs at you, throwing his head back, before looking back over you, menacingly almost.

“You’re not as smart as I thought. Guess what…” He’s bent over completely, overtaking your senses. “I loved eating your little pussy. I can’t get the taste out of my goddamn mind.” You freeze, breathing in little pants, suddenly that blazer you wore to look professional feels too tight, suffocating.

“Why’d you disappear then?” You manage to choke out a whisper.

“I got a call from my friend, and I answered it for a moment when you ran into the bathroom again. I came back and looked everywhere, you were completely gone. I was going to…” He trails off, shaking his head and smirking again. “Never mind. So you thought I dipped. Aw, did it make you sad, poor little girl?” He caresses your face, you grit your teeth.

“Nope. Not at all.” You lie. He frowns, narrowing those obscenely beautiful blue eyes at you. “Just found it rude.”

“Are you sure you haven’t played with that tight cunt thinking of me?” He leans over, whispering, and you throb around goddamn nothing. You shake your heat, jaw clenched so hard it ached. He grins. “Liar.”

“Sue me.” You say with a raised brow, his grin just grows bigger.

“Smart ass little bitch.”

“Don’t call me that, asshole.”

“Don’t call your professor that.”

“Don’t look at your student like that.”

He raises a brow, eyeing your chest, where your nipples are hard against the lace of your bra. “Wear something where I can’t see those nipples perk up. Hmm, I didn’t see these, did I?” His hands brush down the side of your breasts, over your blazer, your blouse…

“And you won’t ever see them.” You shove at his chest, standing, and he grabs your wrists, tightly.

“You’d die for me too, wouldn’t you? Bet it was all you thought about as I did my lecture, me sucking on them. Poor little brat.” He yanks you against him, and you melt unwillingly.

“Nope, I sure the fuck wasn't. You act as if it was so monumental.” You roll your eyes, but you’re full of shit.

“Yeah fucking right, you’ve never cum like that, have you?” You scowl, you want to lie, but you just can’t manage it. His devious shithead grin is in full force. “I Knew it, you fell apart so easily.”

“What’s that even matter? And what do you want, Professor Dickhead.”

"You're a good student with insane test scores," he says, his voice low and serious. "But I need to make something clear. What happened between us will not interfere with your education. I won’t go any easier on you, I’ll push you just the same if not more."

“As if I’d want you to? Like I knew you’re a fucking professor. You seem like a whole idiot.”

He scowls now at you as well, you yank out of his grip, backing up until your ass is against his desk, and he’s barring you between his arms. “I didn’t know you were a fucking law student either. You don’t seem the type.” His eyes go up and down your body slowly.

“Fuck you. Professor Gojo. Respectfully.” You shove at him, feeling his hard chest under your hands, you falter.

“Fuck me, hmm? Baby girl, you can’t, you’re my student.”

“I’m sure the fuck not your ‘baby girl’. Who even eats out some random girl at a club anyway!”

He raises a brow, looking up and down your body, undressing you with his stupidly pretty gaze. “Who gets eaten out by a random guy at the club?”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, he doesn’t budge, your eyes lock onto his and you suppress every base instinct to just kiss his glossy lips. “Fuck you.”

“You like to proposition me. How inappropriate, Miss Brat.”

“I have a name!”

“Miss Brat works better. Fits you more.”

“Professor Dickhead fits you!” He laughs at that, and shakes his head, caressing your face gently, and you freeze. He grows serious.

“I won’t push shit on you. I’m not trying to lose my job, or fuck up your law career, so you don’t really have to worry.” He bends low, a breath away from your lips now, and you tremble, eyes zooming in on them, remembering their taste. “Question is, can you focus when you’re dripping wet looking at me?”

“Oh you conceited fucking dick!” You haul off and smack him then, he grins, deviously, like he enjoyed it, a little red mark on his perfect face.

“Maybe play with your pussy before you come into class, get it all out of your system so you can focus.”

“I can’t fucking stand you! I can’t believe I even… that I…” You feel emotion catch in your throat, blinking it back rapidly, wanting to sob, as you thought you’d felt something, that you liked him.

He pouts a bit, watching you intently, tilting his head and brushing your hair back gently with his fingers. You hate how much you like it. He studies you carefully with those baby blues that you’d dreamt of, a serious look to his handsome face, a jawline you wanted to caress and punch simultaneously.

“That you what?” He whispers, and you shake your head.

“Nothing. I need to get to my next class. Please, move. I promise I won’t be pining away from you or some shit.” He clears his throat, easing back, hands in his pockets again.

“Good, that would be bad for both of us.” He mused, acting so casual, so nonchalant that it infuriated you.

“I imagine shit like that is common for you, right?”

“Eating out stupidly hot girls?” You shrug at that, refusing to acknowledge how that made you feel.. “It’s a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” You turn, grabbing your books, ass pressing against his hard body, and it makes you throb, thinking of that dance with him.

Something far too big and hard is against your ass, making you both tense. You bend over, feeling like torturing this asshole back just a bit, before standing back up, slowly turning and looking up at him. You smile a bit when you see his flustered look, breaking down the usual cockiness you have seen from him.

“Cat got your tongue, Professor?” You whisper, hugging the books to your chest tightly, he exhales, opening his mouth, and the bell rings again.

“Fuck.” He whispers, backing up just a moment and running his hand through his silky white hair.

“See you in class next week.” You say, and he pauses you again, making you scowl this time. “What are you playing at?”

“I didn’t disappear. I wanted your number or… something.” He mumbles, and you blink in surprise, your heart fluttering. “None of that matters now, anyway, we can’t… do anything. So.”

“Nope, we can’t.” You turn, walking, hearing him sigh.

“Whose class do you have, Miss Brat?” He asks, haughty, you glare at him over your shoulder. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s making things hard.”

“Don’t call me that, Professor Dickhead.” He snorts, you peek down at your schedule then. “It’s Contracts with Professor Nanami. Then after that, Torts with Professor Geto.”

“Fuck you’ve even got my best friends as your other teachers.”

“I really need to go. Just… forget it happened I guess?” Your heart aches as you say it, but what choice do you have? He frowns.

“That’s not happening and you know it. Just get a good vibrator and think of me, it should work. I could give you my business cards to get off to? My picture is pretty.” You flip him off, ignoring his laughter as you walk out of the room.

You struggle to breathe, leaning back against the cold wall of the hallway, wishing it would soothe your overheating skin. The man that you’d been thinking of for two months straight was your goddamn professor, not just that, he was the one that had the top internship opportunity.. You can still taste his lips on yours, taste yourself as he had kissed you…

It only makes it worse.

You walk quickly across campus until you get into Contracts, your cheeks burning from the memory of his hardness against you, and the anger from the way he acted, so fucking conceited, so immature. How the fuck was he the best lawyer for his age? You’d heard so much about him and never knew it was him…

Professor Nanami was ridiculously tall and handsome as well, dirty blonde hair and a tan suit over his buff body. You wonder just what the fuck this school is thinking, hiring all these models as professors, but he had no effect on you like he did the rest of the class. Luckily, he seemed humble, serious, more like what you would expect, but of course…

Your mind was wrapped around Professor Dickhead.

Just what would this semester be like?

And why do you ache so goddamn bad.

Forget him… forget it…

How?

You’re screwed.

Chapter 2

Also on a03 - Ch 1 https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/144669811

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #fanfic #anime and manga #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #smut #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jujutsu satoru

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f1tales · 3 months ago

Text

i'm working late, cause i'm a singer - mv1

that's that me espresso || part four

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: i didn't proof read this.

face claim: sabrina carpenter

liked by maxverstappen1, hattiepiastri and others

ivypiastri: i'm working late, cuz i'm a singer ✌

View all comments

ivysgarden: girl new music when?

ivypiastri: soon 👀

ivypiastrifan: 💓

landonorris: i'm working later, cuz i'm a driver? idk what this means..

oscarpiastri: it means she's working late cause she's a singer.. what's not to understand? muppet

landonorris: hey! who u calling a muppet?

oscarpiastri: you.

ivypiastri: ladies, ladies. easy

maxverstappen1: 👀

oscpastry81: uh max what u doing here?

landonorris: i'm wondering that too.....

Ivy hadn't been able to attend the Chinese Grand Prix. She had been cooped up in a small studio in Perth to work on some more songs for her album.

That didn't mean she didn't watch. Max had FaceTimed her the second she could. Her heart skipped a beat when his smiling face appeared on her screen.

She missed him.

Which is why she was headed for the airport: on her way to surprise Max in Monaco. Oscar and Lando were headed off to the MTC, so she couldn't ask them to pick her up from the airport. She had pressured Oscar into giving her Daniel Ricciardo's phone number.

She had met the fellow Aussie a few times, twice in the paddock and once that week on his farm, but they had never exchanged phone numbers.

He had been very excited to come pick her up in Nice. Went on and on about how romantic this was. And how Max couldn't shut up about her.

Only twenty-one hours until she would see him again. God, she was so gone for this man.

Ivy spent the majority of her flights scribbling down some lyrics in her notebook. A big portion of her album was done now. Max had been so excited about the songs she had showed him.

She still remembers the beaming smile on his face when she played him a song over FaceTime. She wrote it after she and her ex broke up and about how the dating pool was slim; she hoped he wouldn't think it was offensive.

On the contrary; he laughed as he bopped along.

It had been Ivy feel all giddy. Never in her life had anyone made her feel that way. And they'd only known each other for about a month.

At the airport in Nice, she looked around as she dragged her suitcase behind her. Surely Daniel Ricciardo wouldn't be hard to miss. She squinted her eyes as she did another take around the airport arrivals hall.

"Looking for someone?"

Ivy jumped aside. Daniel's booming laugh could be heard all throughout the airport. They might have heard him all the way over in Monaco.

"Funny."

"Alright," Daniel grabbed Ivy' suitcase out of her hand, "let's get you to Max. He'll be so excited! Surely this is the most romantic thing someone's ever done. Can I film it?"

liked by ivy_piastristan, formulaoscar and others

ivypiastri_updates: Ivy was spotted arriving in Nice earlier today! She was seen leaving with fellow Aussie Daniel Ricciardo 👀

View all comments

ivysgarden: she looks stunning!

piastriverstappen: wait wait wait, wasn't she seeing max tho?

pastrysiblings: chill, DR literally only picked her up...

eics.ivy: noooooo my piastappen heart 💔💔

oscpastry: is that what we're calling them now?

formula-ivy: guys, seriously!! she was never even confirmed to be dating max. go touch some grass please.

maxinmotion: are we forgetting daniel's literallly max's friend? maybe he asked him to pick her up.

pastrysiblings: or or or or max and ivy aren't together. 🤔🤨

maxverstappen1: Hm.

eics.ivy: MAX?!

maxinmotion: @/pastrysiblings explain this then.....

pastrysiblings: @/maxinmotion i can't.. i'm stumped.

Daniel glanced over at Ivy, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his Porsche. She was fidgeting with her hands as she looked out the window.

"Do you want to stop at mine first? Shower or something?"

Ivy looked over at him. A grateful smile spread across her face. "Yes, please! Thank you. I don't want to show up at Max's house and smell like plane. Imagine that gives him the ick."

The Australian driver hummed, "somehow I don't think anything you do could ever give that man the ick."

They fell into easy conversation about music. Ivy invited him to the studio some time, maybe he could play guitar on a track or two. Ivy had grinned at the way his eyes lit up. Daniel, in return, had invited her to come to a race as his guest sometime.

They pulled up to the garage of Daniel's apartment in Monaco. Daniel frowned. Ivy followed his gaze. Max was standing in front of the apartment building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked anthing but happy.

Ivy looked over at Daniel, "we're you expecting him?"

Daniel groaned. He shook his head, he showed Ivy his phone. Heidi had texted him; it was all over Instagram. Pictures of him picking Ivy up at the airport.

Now, Daniel knew Max to be a pretty reasonable person in his privatel ife. But not when it came to Ivy. Daniel has no idea what happened the day he met her, but he's crazy about this girl. He's incapabale of reasonable thinking when it comes to her.

"Well, this should be fun."

Ivy glanced between Daniel in the driver's seat next to her and Max standing with his arms crossed outside; yes, this will be great fun.

part five coming soon.

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller

#divider by cafekitsune #f1tales #f1 fic #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader

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bbyjackie · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒... 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 — ♡

one piece social media feat: strawhats special appearance: whitebeard pirates, heart pirates, kid pirates

》 in honour of barbie!! (+ oppenheimer)

♡ liked by nefertari_vivi, ace and 10.4k others

_ynln: barbie girls in the new world 🎀💄

[music: Beauty And A Beat - Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj ♫]

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, lovenami, theroronoa.zoro, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi, sogekingg.usopp, blackleg.sanji, jinbe, ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K, FRAAANKY

FRAAANKY: LETS GOOOOOOOOO 🔥🔥

nefertari_vivi: so happy to meet up with you guys again!! 💕

↳ _ynln: we missed u!

↳ lovenami: lets do it again!

↳ blackleg.sanji: YOU WERE SO BEAUTIFUL VIVI 💞💘❣️💕🥰😍

lovenami: we look so good omg ‼️

ace: CAN'T BELIEVE WE RAN INTO EACHOTHER

↳ _ynln: EEE IM SO GLAD YOU JOINED US!!

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HEHE IT WAS SO FUNNY WHEN U FELL ASLEEP ACE 😂

sogekingg.usopp: BEST DRESSED CREW IN THE NEW WORLD

trafalgar_d.law: it looked like you all copied doflamingo's style

↳ _ynln: PLEASE DELETE THIS B4 HE SEES IT I DONT WANT TO DIE🙏🙏

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HEHAHHA TRA GUY YOURE RIGHT

↳ doflamingo_: Looking good @_ynln

↳ _ynln: you're old enough to be my dad 😐

↳ doflamingo_: Add a dy to that

↳ theroronoa.zoro: more like you should dy off 😭😭 (liked by trafalgar_d.law, _ynln, sogekingg.usopp)

CAPTAIN.KIIIID: fire song choice (liked by _ynln, theroronoa.zoro)

♡ liked by marco_o, iampops and 14.3k others

ace: ran into these losers 😪

tagged: _ynln, p1rateking_luffy

marco_o: so when you said you couldn't do cleaning duty, you were out watching barbie

↳ ace: And I'm bad like the Barbie (Barbie) I'm a doll, but I still wanna party (party) Pink 'Vette like I'm ready to bend (bend) I'm a ten, so I pull in a Ken

↳ marco_o: you need to be put down

_ynln: omg i made it on THE FIRE FIST ACE'S ig?! 🫢🫢

↳ ace: YOU WERE LITERALLY IN THE LAST PHOTO DUMP

↳ _ynln: NO WAY YOU POST ME IN THE SAME DUMP AS LUFFY AND EXPECT ME TO BE OKAY W THAT 🤨🤨

↳ ace: mb you're the no.1 fr 😌🤞

p1rateking_luffy: LERS DO A MOVIE NIGHT AGUIB WIEH SABU TOO

↳ saaaa_bo: real, if that's what you were trying to say

iampops: Sons, let's go watch barbie together

↳ ace: pops i ain't even gonna lie, there's no way we can bring you to the theatre and not have the marines after us 😭😭

↳ _ynln: ace YOU'RE the liability, i literally ran into the marines and they were offering me DOUBLE your bounty to turn you in

↳ lovenami: AND YOU DIDN'T DO IT?

♡ liked by nojiko.ko, blackleg.sanji and 6.9k others

lovenami: glad this fit is boutta be on my new bounty poster 🤞

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, _ynln, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi

_ynln: nami nahh 💀 we were running for our LIVES

↳ themarineofficial: my mum told me to chase after my dreams (liked by _ynln, FRAAANKY, theroronoa.zoro)

↳ sogekingg.usopp: WHO TF HACKED INTO THE OFFICIAL MARINE IG LMFAOO 😭😭

↳ lovenami: scariest notification

trafalgar_d.law: luffy? more like goofy. why's he trying to rizz up the camera man like that

p1rateking_luffy: Tra guy what does rizz mean

↳ trafalgar_d.law: RIZZ: Another word for spitting game/how good you are with pulling and sustaining bitches. [Urban Dictionary]

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I GOT THAT ILLEGAL RIZZ 🤪🤪😇🙏🔥🔥

↳ _ynln: LUFFY WHAT

↳ lovenami: ?!!

↳ jinbe: ?

↳ trafalgar_d.law: wtaf

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Ace told me to say it :((

↳ saaaa_bo: ACE STOP RUINING LUFFY'S DIGITAL FOOTPRINT

↳ ace: GUYS OMG DONT HATE ON ME TBF HE PULLED HANCOCK AND SHES LIKE 30

blackleg.sanji: MY BEAUTIFUL GODDESSES IN ONE FRAME HOW DID I EVER GET THIS LUCKY TO BE BORN INTO THIS LIFE 💓💖💘🧡💕💖💗❤️

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I'm in the photo too!

↳ blackleg.sanji: sadly.

↳ _ynln: 😭

♡ liked by sogekingg.usopp, BONBONBONCLAY and 12.7k others

p1rateking_luffy: Last nighT was fun

tagged: ace, theroronoa.zoro, _ynln, blackleg.sanji

ace: WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO ME?

↳ _ynln: dude you were GONE 😭

↳ p1rateking_luffy: HAAHGAHA DID YIUO SEE THE THINGFW WE DFEW ON YOURE FACE

↳ trafalgar_d.law: ever feel bad about yourself? think about luffy's spelling (liked by saaaa_bo)

lovenami: WHAT WERE YOU GUYS DOING TO YN AND ZORO IN THE SECOND PHOTO

↳ lovenami: WAIT WHEN WAS THE PHOTO EVEN TAKEN?

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Ryght after the marnjnes follqweod you g0uys instead

↳ sogekingg.usopp: aint no way i was fighting for life and these rats were having the time of their life 🫤🫤

↳ _ynln: 😝

↳ p1rateking_luffy: 😝

♡ liked by killerrr, SOU1K1NGBR00K and 10.1k others

_ynln: strawhats take on oppenheimer next 🖤

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, lovenami, theroronoa.zoro, nicorobin, nefertari_vivi, sogekingg.usopp, blackleg.sanji, jinbe, ilovecottoncandychopper, S0U1K1NGBR00K, FRAAANKY

themarinesofficial: strawhat ladies and roronoa zoro i will need to arrest you for stealing my heart ❤️

↳ _ynln: LMFAO UM IM CRYING??!!

↳ nicorobin: This is slightly uncomfortable

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: LMFAO THE WAY ZORO IS INCLUDED AHHAA

↳ blackleg.sanji: BACK OFF FROM THEM 🫵

↳ theroronoa.zoro: just crucify me again

sogekingg.usopp: OKAY BUT FR WHO HACKED INTO THEIR ACC 😭😭

↳ FRAAANKY: nah people in the marines just getting bored fr

ace: YOOO LETS MEET UP (liked by _ynln)

↳ p1rateking_luffy: @saaaa_bo COME TOO

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pupyuj · 8 months ago

Note

we need more gf yujin... Mean gf Yujin well kinda cause we all miss babyboy Yujin.

🐝 (new anon)

i see the word “babyboy” and that’s all i focus on 😭 just realized i haven’t posted a drabble in a while so i’ll take a look in my asks and see if anything else catches my eye 🤓 (my neglected asks in the drafts r crying rn) n e ways welcome 🐝 anon! 💕💓

p.s. sub top yujin save me—

babyboy yujinnie dating older!reader… a wild puppy has been tamed! 😭 her friends are the first to notice that yujin doesn’t behave the same around you as she did with her previous partners! perhaps even tho that two of you were dating, she was intimidated by your maturity and how wise you were but really she was just whipped as fuck! whipped to the point of literally worshipping you? well yes! 🤤 she’d try to be as serious as you are but ultimately end up failing bcs you told her that you like it better when she’s silly, aka herself 🥴🥴

don’t be fooled though! as willing as she is to drop on her knees and do anything and everything for you, babyboy still tops 🤭🤭 she has this obsession with being your most perfect pet! making sure to memorize every inch of your body and find out which parts make you moan her name the sweetest, or the loudest… 😳 fucking you gets her rlly turned and by the time you’re shaking bcs she’s given you your sixth orgasm of the night, yujinnie would be so, so drenched but she ignores her own needs bcs all she wants to do is hear her name fall from your lips, feel your nails ruin her scalp, scratch at her arms, and hold her hand 🥺

and don’t get me started on pussy drunk babyboy yujin that finds all the right opportunities to eat you out wherever the two of you are! in your office? check. at some parking lot in the back of her car? check. a random bathroom stall? check. a private booth in an unnecessarily lavish restaurant? hell yes, check 😵‍💫 yujinnie knows how to ask nicely and that’s what she does 98% of the time bcs not only is your pleasure important to her but also your comfort 🥺 however… when her feelings are too strong, she simply just puts her hand in between your legs and start kissing your neck.. she knows it was a weakness, and her lips spread into a shit-eating grin every time it works 🙄💕

and those big puppy eyes of hers that she stares at you with as silently asking for permission every time she’s ‘hungry’?? they look 1000% better when they’re looking at you from in between your legs! 😍 yujin’s heart skipping several beats as she looked at your expressions while she does her work with her tongue.. she’s making you feel so good and she’s so proud of herself! 🥺💓 every time you praise her, she just wants more.. and so she gets better and better the longer she eats you out… not stopping even when your voice was all hoarse from screaming her name..

yujin doesn’t actually care if you crush her head with your thighs or suffocate her by pushing her face so close to your pussy that she almost can’t breathe.. it was the perfect way to die! 🤭 she only stops when you’ve tapped out, or told her to stop, or when she knows you’ve had enough.. but even then she’d give your pussy little kitten licks just to tease you bcs she loves hearing your whines since you get so sensitive 🥺🥺 ah and she works so hard drinking up all your cum, finding your taste as delicious as her favorite sweets, perhaps even better 😵‍💫💓

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wave2tyun · 1 year ago

Text

cherry wine | ☆

pairing: taehyun x reader

genre: college!au, chef!tyun, fluff, suggestive (it gets steamy towards the end?!)

prompts: - "i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now"

- "here- let me help you"

warnings: none<3

word count: 2.8k

a/n: special dedication to the anon who sent me an ask about this fic, hope you'll enjoy reading this again :D💓💞💘💖💓

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there were many things that you were good that. cooking, however, was not one of them. when you first got one of your friends to come over and taste one of your dishes, they could barely hold back tears as they tried to chew the food and make it slide down their throat. knowing that you’re not a big fan of takeout, they could barely comprehend how you’ve managed to survive up until now.

the minute your uni opened up a cooking course held by the culinary arts students, your friend made sure that your name would be the first one to appear on that list- without telling you about it, of course. you had a big ego, and you most likely wouldn’t have accepted to sign up for the course yourself. therefore, so as not to risk anything, they only told you about the secret they’ve been keeping away from you one hour before the first class started.

‘stupid course’ you mumbled, putting on the apron that the chef’s assistant handed you. was it really necessary to wear it? you were thankful that at least there weren’t any other familiar faces in the room, otherwise you would have died of embarrassment. everybody else seemed to have, in one way or another, some sort of knowledge in the cooking field. meanwhile, you lacked the skills, and the blue apron you were dressed up in made you feel goofy. you glanced over at your watch: 11:02. if you were fast enough maybe there was still time for you to sneak out of there-

“good morning, everybody” a male voice was heard.

great. your one and only chance to escape slipped away from your hands. the course was officially starting, and there was no way you could back out now. you lifted your head, eyes searching for the source of the voice, and once your eyes landed on him- you couldn’t help but inhale sharply.

you were screwed.

the student that was assigned as the ‘head chef’ was cute- so much cuter than you thought. he was somehow the perfect combination of cute and hot: big shiny eyes that resembled two tapioca pearls, a soft smile that revealed his cat-like fangs, as well as broad shoulders and toned arms, which were exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“i’m taehyun, a 3rd year culinary arts major” he introduced himself “i will be the one leading you throughout this course. thank you to everyone who has signed up, i hope you will find these lessons useful”

taehyun’s words were met with a round of applause from the other people in the room. he smiled brightly, clasping his hands together “without further ado- let’s get started. we’ll start of easy, with a basic soup recipe”

you glared at the vegetables in front of you. it seemed like your definition of easy didn’t exactly match his. making a sandwich was easy. cutting vegetables? absolutely not. you clumsily tried to follow along as taehyun demonstrated each step, paying close attention to not cut or stab your finger with the knife. these poor vegetables- your cutting board resembled a crime scene. you sighed, looking at the potatoes and carrots that you had yet to handle.

taehyun started roaming around the kitchen counters, making sure that everyone was carrying out the task well. you sensed him stopping right next to your place, and you resisted the urge to hide the mess you created with your hands. knowing that his eyes were on you, you were now feeling even more nervous than before. your hands were now starting to shake as you continued using the knife.

“can you give me your knife for a second?” taehyun asked, interrupting your actions.

“s-sure” you stuttered, handing him the sharp object. taehyun moved closer to you, grabbing one of the carrots from the basket.

“when you cut these- make sure you get rid of the ends first” he spoke as his hands followed the instructions “this makes it a bit easier to hold the rest of the carrot. then- hold the knife straight, and push it down, separating it into smaller pieces” you watched as taehyun chopped up the rest of the carrot flawlessly, in probably less than 10 second “give it another go” he offered you the knife back, making you gulp.

you breathed in deeply, trying to calm yourself down as you reached out for your own carrot. however, your attempt was in vain. no matter how many times you tried, the pieces you were cutting ended up looking uneven. you could feel your cheeks burning intensely. “i’m so sorry-“ turning to look at taehyun in pity, you were expecting him to start laughing in your face, but you were only met with another one of his sweet smiles.

“you’re holding the knife at an angle. here- let me help you” taehyun walked behind you, his hands hovering right above yours “is this okay?” he spoke softly, waiting for your confirmation to go on.

you nodded, and taehyun took hold of your hands guiding them as he explained again “like this” he whispered, pressing down the knife gently. he was just correcting your mistakes- just doing his job, but god, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

“think you’ve got it now?” he chuckled.

you almost forgot to reply, too caught up in the moment “yeah- thank you”

“you’re welcome-“ taehyun sneaked a glance at your name tag “-y/n” the words rolled off his tongue softly.

taehyun removed his hands from you, going back to his place at the front to go on with the lesson. perhaps this course wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the next time you had to attend the cooking course, you put in a little bit more effort in your appearance. for taehyun? maybe. only something subtle though. you did want it to be noticeable, just not too much. he wasn’t supposed to catch on to the fact that he was the cause of this.

the thought of doing mistakes didn’t seem as taunting anymore- not if it meant that taehyun would be the one helping you out again.

no matter how many times you were struggling, taehyun came over to you with a smile, fondness taking over his eyes as you furrowed your brows, paying close attention to his words.

one day, he called your name out at the end of the lesson- asking you to remain for a bit. you waited next to him as the class emptied, and taehyun shily pulled his phone out once it was just the two of you there “if you ever have questions or need help with anything- you can always text me”

and so you did. you used any excuse to talk to him, asking small questions like “how should i prepare this?” “what can i add to this?” “does this look right?” and taehyun seemed to reply with enthusiasm every time. you looked forward to seeing him every saturday at the course. any kind of stress created by college disappeared the moment you were in his warm presence, and felt his soft touch. you couldn’t help but sulk a little bit whenever he helped out other students, even though that was simply what he was supposed to do. maybe you just wanted to have all of his focus on you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

walking out after your last course of the day, you received a new message:

taehyun :)

[6:34 pm] are you free tonight? there’s something i want you to try

you typed in a quick reply, an almost immediate raise in heartbeat taking place at the thought of seeing him that evening.

you got back to your dorm as fast as possible to drop off your bag, as well as to get changed into something a tad bit more special than just some jeans and a hoodie.

once you reached taehyun’s door, you took a moment to rearrange the flyaway hairs and to make sure that your outfit looked in good condition. ringing up the doorbell, taehyun didn’t take long before opening the door, the smell of freshly-sprayed on cologne enveloping your senses, a breathless ‘hi’ escaping past both your lips at the exact same time.

the only source of light in taehyun’s apartment was the small candles sitting on the elegantly decorated dining table. it seemed like he had everything prepared, except for one single thing: the dish itself. all the ingredients were neatly prepared on the counter, as if waiting for your arrival. those were, indeed, taehyun’s intentions. he did have a special dish in mind that he wanted you to try, but the though of having you in his presence while preparing it just seemed to make his heart flutter a bit longer.

even though you were definitely not as skilled as taehyun when it came to cooking, you still offered to help him in any way you could, not wishing to simply sit around waiting to be served. for your first task, you were chopping some tomatoes for the pasta sauce. taehyun came up behind you, putting his hands on top of yours like he did during your first course with him.

“don’t worry- i know how to do this now” you said.

“really?” taehyun quirked an eyebrow, the tone of his voice both amusing yet also incredulous.

you hummed, proud of your small progress. taehyun didn’t separate himself from you “maybe i just want to stay close to you” he admitted, voice low as if he didn’t know whether it was right to confess his thoughts out loud.

“i wouldn’t mind that” you spoke quietly, letting out a confession of your own as well.

you could hear taehyun softly exhale in relief at your response. his warm chest came into contact with your back, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. it was intimate- way too intimate for those feelings of love to be clouding your heart only. his warm breath on your neck was starting to make you feel almost light-headed, to make you lose focus, and in a moment where your attention had completely dissipated into thin air, you almost let the knife cut your finger.

“are you okay? did you get hurt?” taehyun asked in worry. he brought your finger to his face upon closer inspection “it’s all good, don’t worry” you replied hurriedly, embarrassed by your lack of concentration at the task at hand “i just got lost in thought that’s all” you babbled on further. taehyun nodded as he started guiding you, holding your hand and the knife with slightly tighter grip than before to ensure that there wouldn’t be any more slip-ups “do it this way” he said.

“like this?” you repeated, trying it out yourself. you turned your head slightly to face him. there was a soft pink dusting taehyun’s cheeks.

“yeah, just like this” he answered back in a daze. you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes sneaked a glance at your lips. the thought too tempting and inviting- especially when he was holding you so close. but he had to wait- he couldn’t give in yet. the tension and lingering touches were consuming you whole as you continued to prepare the dish together.

the wine taehyun placed down the table seemed to be the perfect solution to loosen things up, to get rid of all the worries of your unspoken feelings.

“i bought this especially for tonight- it goes well with the dish” taehyun looked down as he smiled shily “i hope you’ll like it” he said as he poured each of you a glass of the sweet cherry wine.

“swirl it around first- then let the liquid touch your lips for a bit to get a small taste” he explained. taehyun already had an interest in alcohol, and the culinary arts programme had only expanded his knowledge in the field further. although it was necessary for him to learn- you found it attractive how he paid attention to even the smallest details.

the wine was more of a sweet kind than dry, intense- yet not overwhelming, and just as intoxicating as him. the pasta didn’t let down your expectations either. you had never tasted pasta with a sauce so creamy and full of flavour before, you couldn’t believe that you had assisted in the preparation and didn’t somehow ruin it.

“this tasted so good” you complimented him hurriedly between bites. taehyun couldn’t control his face at the sound of your words- a cocky grin taking over which he tried to hide subtly by having another sip of wine.

“only the best for you” he replied brazenly, reaching out his glass towards you. meeting him half-way, you clinked your glasses together, giggling at his words.

the wine glasses were filled right after another without a moment of waiting as you got through your dinner. and before you knew it, the expensive bottle was already sitting on the floor underneath the table, not a singular drop remaining in it. to you, taehyun’s eyes seemed to sparkle a bit more now, his smile at least ten times more endearing. and to taehyun? he could barely hold himself back from confessing out of the blue just so that he could finally give your lips a kiss

you clumsily gathered the dishes, bringing them over to the sink. you both agreed that washing them should be a problem for later, since you were quite (very) tipsy and didn’t want to risk flooding the apartment.

turning around after you placed the last plate in the sink, you were taken aback to see taehyun so close to you. he put his hands on the counter behind you, trapping you between it and his own body. his eyes were firmly placed on yours and you noticed how the blush on his cheeks had never disappeared. was it because of you? or just the alcohol?

his head fell on your shoulder, his hands were now on the small of your back as he tried to keep his balance.

“tae- is everything okay?” you asked worriedly. you didn’t know what his alcohol tolerance was, and you didn’t want him passing out on the floor in front of you.

taehyun hummed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his soft black hair tickled your skin, and you wished you could run your hands through it “can we just stay like this for a bit?” he mumbled.

you opened your mouth to speak, but taehyun interrupted you before you could do so “i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now” he lightly chuckled.

“you’re probably the cause of that...” you replied, the alcohol giving you the slight push to admit it. “is that so?” taehyun lifted his head up slightly, peering into your eyes “every time i get close to you- my heart beats just the same”

your face burned instantly, locking eyes with him for just one moment, before you noticed the way his travelled down to your lips once again. taehyun licked his lips before resting his forehead against yours. his warm breath tickled your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation for him to close the gap. pulling him in by softly grabbing the collar of his shirt, your lips captured taehyun’s in a tender kiss.

taehyun melted into your touch, letting out a small gasp once he promptly parted away from you, only to come back to taste you with even more passion than before. warmth consumed you, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together in a frenzy “your lips taste so sweet” taehyun breathed out “even sweeter than the cherry wine”. taehyun clumsily moved any leftover ingredients out of the way before lifting you up on the counter, his hands trailing underneath your shirt, touching your bare back as he continued to kiss you, the desire flowing through your veins was making it unable for you to stop. it made a chill run down your spine, and you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. your fingers got lost through the strands of his hair, pulling at them slightly and emitting a deep hum from him; hot, passionate kisses sending a rush through your whole body as you tasted him. his lips were so soft- so warm, and so incredibly addictive.

in need of oxygen, you parted away for him for a moment, his glistening lips trailing back almost immediately.

“please- will you let me have another taste?”

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun scenarios #taehyun fic #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun headcanons

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sweetimpurity · 2 months ago

Text

I think I'll keep you:

c.ai bot drop

a/n (please read!): Hiya! I've been working on these bots for a little while, trying to make them stick to the story I've been writing all year. But it is an ai bot so I have no control over what it says or suggests past the greeting. It might not stick to the story exactly. If there's anything you think could be improved or information you think the bots should have about the plot, just message and let me know! I hope you guys have fun kiss kiss!! 😘🍬

These can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity 💓

I think I'll keep you

Miguel has no interest in a relationship. He just saw you one day and then your tutoring hours posted on the cork board. He knew he had to have you for one night. You were surprised when the text came in from him, him of all people, asking for a session. But he quickly got you on your knees and then in his bed. This one night would turn into much more.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and it hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into cries of his name, how good he feels.

He doesn't know what's come over him. He doesn't form attachments like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to bring you pleasure over and over again.

You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice whining out the dirtiest things. You're a soft warm mess as he chases his own release.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your skin as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind.

“I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more...

I think I'll keep you 2

You've been gone only three days and he's losing his mind. Everything was so good before you decided to go home for the weekend. Miguel had you every night he wanted, every morning too. Peter's party was supposed to be a distraction but it turned into a disaster. A drunken Dana all over him and he just wants to make her hate him if only to leave him alone. He doesn't want her. He wants you back to campus.

Not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you with some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my nerves, don’t you?” He seethes. But even Dana loves the attention.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

{{user}}: “Came back early :)”

“Coming now” He texts right back.

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She scoffs, sitting up on his bed.

"Yes! GET OUT!!" He shouts, making her flinch. She scurries off, out of his dorm fighting back tears. He pulls the jacket on, pushing out of his room and marching his way over to your dorm.

I think I'll keep you 3

Miguel pushes off the wall, going to the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

You suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He told you, you were never supposed to happen for him. That what happened between you for an entire month was a mistake. To not let your messy feelings ruin everything. It’s been four days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

“I need to talk to you.” He speaks, towering over the table. Thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. And you gave him your body, your heart everyday for a month already.

“I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. He wants things back the way they were. He wants you back in his bed. He doesn’t know what he feels.

He walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets.

"{{user}}… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more. He can see your anger, he can feel it too.

“I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him.

“Well I’m talking to you…”

I think I'll keep you 4

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there.

“Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen.

“Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak-

“Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He feels like shit. Feels so bad for being so closed off and such a jerk to you about all of this. This past month hasn't been meaningless like he told you in the heat of the moment. It's meant something he just doesn't know how to say it. It's hard for him to put his feelings into words. For you it seems so easy, why can't he just be like you?

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information on the form.

I think I'll keep you 5

When the athletic door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is {{user}}… {{user}} this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” Peter asks you.

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

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perseephoneee · 1 month ago

Text

scarf [ficmas day 15] [isaac lahey x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

anon: Hiya! Can you write something for your Ficmas 2024 with Isaac and a scarf? (I know it's so obviously choice 😆) I will be very grateful. @mayfieldss : For ficmas you KNOW I have to ask for scarf with isaac lahey! I love you, you're the best. 💓

author's note: merry christmas you guys <3 i can't believe we finished this challenge (by we I mean me i was burned out at the end). every fic i wrote i was excited to share with you guys, and truly i am so thankful for every single person who reads these. i love writing, and i love writing knowing i'm improving someones day.

i'd love to hear what everyone is excited for this holiday season, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox or message me personally <3 love y'all

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

cold december night -- michael buble

christmas song -- phoebe bridgers

Isaac always wore a scarf because despite it being in the seventies constantly in Beacon Hills, CA, it was his Mom’s and he liked to remember her. This sentimental fact did nothing to stop the other boys from relentlessly teasing him. Because men are idiots.

You witnessed it firsthand very often.

“I can’t take you seriously when you wear that,” Stiles shook his head, stabbing his fork into the cafeteria’s excuse for a salad. Isaac just flipped him off. Lunch was often like this.

“It’s in style,” Lydia defended Isaac.

“But with the leather jacket?” Stiles waved at Isaac’s outfit. “It’s like if a grandmother joined a biker gang.”

“This isn’t very Christmas spirit of us,” you chided. You had brought lunch from home and were not sad about missing out on today’s lunch specials. Stiles stole a carrot from you in protest.

“How much do you want to bet that Christmas will be ruined by something supernatural-related?” Stiles asked. You hit him with the back of your hand.

“Why must you be like this?”

“I didn’t get enough attention growing up,” Stiles smiled at you before swiping more food from your plate.

“I also didn’t get attention,” Isaac added. “Because I was–”

“Locked in a freezer, yes, we know,” Stiles sighed. “Still milking that?”

“Yeah, still milking that.”

“Very cute; your sadness goes with your scarf.”

You were about to yell at Stiles again when the bell rang. You gave Isaac an apologetic glance but he just smiled. He was a good sport, and could handle Stiles teasing. You don’t know how he managed to keep such a cool head with everything in his life.

You both shared the next class together, U.S. History and debated asking him. You sat together near the back of the classroom. As it was the last day before winter break, your teacher was playing a movie. A teacher’s cop-out to an actual lesson plan. You couldn’t disagree with your logic.

You ended up at the table first, like you always did. You were pulling out your journal and pens when Isaac finally came in, sitting next to you. You felt your heart skip a beat as he smiled at you. Neither of you got to say anything as your teacher started class, droning on about the ‘importance’ of the movie and whatever. You were a good student, but you did not care enough to listen to this spiel. Isaac agreed.

“I just want to go home already,” Isaac rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

“Me too,” you sighed, scribbling in your notebook. You doodled when you were bored. “Although I need to stop by the archives first.”

“Archives? Why?” Isaac asked, sitting back up. His knee bumped yours, but he didn’t pull away. You didn’t want him to.

“Just doing some research on whoever is committing human sacrifices,” you whispered. Your pack’s latest problem. You wondered if you would ever get a break from the supernatural. You also wondered if you even wanted to.

“It’s the holidays, take a break.”

“This thing won’t take a break.”

“You’re too good,” Isaac muttered. He said it the way someone comments on an art piece, with reverence and understanding. “I’m going with you then.”

“Isaac, it’s going to be boring.”

“So’s sitting at home,” Isaac took one of your pens, flipping it between his fingers. His fingers were nice and long, and you looked away before any unwanted thoughts came into your head. “Besides, I like hanging out with you.”

Sometimes Isaac said things like that, and you wondered if maybe he liked you the way you liked him. How could you not like him? You liked him before he was a werewolf and was just the quiet, lanky boy in your class. You liked him after he turned and started hanging out with your friends. He was always kind to you and always remembered the things you said when no one else did. You hoped that maybe one day he might feel the same. You weren’t always so sure.

“Okay,” you whispered back, a small smile on your lips. He grinned. He took your journal from you and put it in the middle of the desk so you could both doodle. You drew a whale. He drew an elephant. You drew a gecko. He drew Stiles being electrocuted. You took the pen out of his hand. He wrapped his own around yours to take it back. Sometimes, you really hated him.

The end of class came sooner than you imagined. You and Isaac decided that the rest of the school day was stupid (you both had two periods left, and both were filler classes), so you decided to skip out. You had driven to school in your parent’s hand-me-down Honda and decided to head out to the Beacon Hills library where the archives were. You weren’t sure if you were going to find anything, but you thought maybe you’d try. Sometimes, the best answers lay in the past.

You regretted bringing Isaac to the library about twenty minutes into being there. He was all anxious energy, as you researched. He asked you a ton of questions, moved around, and overall was a distraction. It didn’t help that he took off his scarf and jacket, so he was just in a t-shirt. A t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash and, therefore, hugged his body a little too well. The urge to climb in his lap and make out with him right then was overwhelming. You started thinking about things like the Vietnam War and statistics to quell your lust.

While you didn’t find anything in the archives, you did find some books on the history of human sacrifices and another on pack dynamics that you thought might be interesting. You checked both out and ignored the look of the librarian as she read the titles. Isaac stifled his laughter.

You were about to ask Isaac if he wanted to grab some coffee before going home (any chance to prolong your time with him), but the question caught in your throat as you regaled who was leaning against your car.

Ethan and Aiden were waiting for you both, or maybe just Isaac. You were never sure how much of a priority you were to your enemies. You assumed you were low on the totem pole.

“Lahey,” Ethan called out, stepping out of your car. Isaac gently pushed you behind him.

“Ladies,” Isaac grinned. “What can we do for you today?”

The twins bristled. “In the spirit of Christmas, we wanted to give back to the people who got us where we are today,” Aiden drawled. Your blood chilled at the connotations. “You destroyed our ride; we destroy yours.”

You very much did not like this idea.

“This isn’t my car, sorry,” Isaac shrugged.

“It’s hers,” Ethan pointed to you. You wanted to yell at him, but Isaac refused to let you come out of behind him. “And she’s important to you, so we thought it would be the same thing.”

You would’ve spent more time pondering that comment if Aidan hadn’t proceeded to smash in your windows. You yelled at them, your voice carrying across the parking lot. Isaac growled, rushing forward and pushing Aidan away. Both twins laughed like this was a joke to them. You were in disbelief and anger over the state of your car and knew you couldn’t afford to fix it, especially with extra expenses around the holiday season. You also were angry that these three idiots were having a fight out in the library parking lot.

“Hey!” you yelled, attempting to get them to break it up. Shockingly, Isaac was holding his own against the alpha twins. Unfortunately, he was still losing. Ethan grabbed the scarf from his neck, dangling it in front of him. You cried out as Ethan ripped it in half. This was only going to end badly, you knew that. Especially as Isaac turned right after, with the twins following.

You were no match for three werewolves; you were barely a match for a full-grown human man. But you needed to get Isaac out of here before people started noticing and before he got himself killed. You rushed to your car, avoiding the glass and looking in your center console. You found what you were looking for. You gathered up your courage and rushed back to the twins. You sprayed the pepper spray at Aidan and blew your air horn at the same time. All three covered their ears in pain while Aidan cried out about his eyes. You felt smug satisfaction. That was for my car, you asshole, you thought.

“You three need to knock it the fuck off,” you growled out. They all turned to look at you, resembling wounded puppies. “You’re acting like children and, in the process, damaging Isaac’s property and my property.”

Ethan had the audacity to look slightly ashamed.

“No wonder you guys were omegas,” you seethed. “You act like bitches.”

You grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him away from them. You had no idea where you were going; you just wanted to get away from the parking lot until they were gone. You decided to drag him behind the library. You leaned against the back wall while he paced around.

“I’m sorry about your car,” Isaac cursed. He still hadn’t turned back, his voice raspy. You shook your head.

“Not your fault,” you picked at the threads on your sweater. “I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s bullshit,” Isaac growled, kicking at the sidewalk. You let him work through it.

“I’m sorry about your scarf,” you said earnestly. He was still breathing heavily.

“If I wasn’t a fuck up, if I hadn’t harassed them, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Your heart broke at his harsh language. You walked over to him, blocking his pacing. He was forced to look at you, golden eyes and all.

“You are not a fuck up, okay?” He tried to look away, but you grabbed his hand, pulling him back. “You are wonderful, and knowing you have been a gift. You are not responsible for their behavior. You are responsible for your own.” You reached a hand up to smooth the space between his brows, his wolf side subsiding. “You are worth it.”

You watched the gold fade from his eyes, the blue returning. It looked like the sun hiding behind the ocean. You didn’t break eye contact; even if it made you feel uncomfortable, you held on. You needed him to see you were serious. Isaac brought his hand to your face, thumb tracing over the apples of your cheeks. You shuddered at his touch.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he murmured. You choked on your words. He cradled his face with both of his hands, kissing your forehead. Your breath was shallow as he kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips. You opened your mouth to his, already desperate to have him in every way. He was gentle with his kisses as if you were a treasure he didn’t want to break. He licked your teeth, and you felt your breath hitch. You sighed when he applied more pressure. Your lips followed after his when he pulled away. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he chuckled.

“I really enjoyed that,” you hiccuped. Isaac brushed your hair back, hands drifting down your arms to your waist.

“Me too,” Isaac grinned, kissing your cheek. “We should do it more often.”

“I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Hey, I’m not that easy,” Isaac raised a brow, and you laughed. “But I think we can arrange something like that.”

You managed to get a vacuum from the library, citing ‘vandals’ as your reason for needing it. They were very polite as you and Isaac cleaned up the stray glass and taped trash bags over the windows so you could drive home. You told your parents the same reason, and they fortunately didn’t blame you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset because all you could think about was your kiss with Isaac. You called Lydia to tell her the news and to tattle on her boyfriend. She was elated that you guys finally did it (“Allison and I had a pool on who would make the first move”) and aggravated with Aidan. You hoped that she yelled at him.

Isaac texted you at the end of the night that he was going to take you out the next day. You agonized over what to wear (you settled for something nice but still casual). He ended up taking you to a double screening of “Die Hard” and “Scrooged.” You ended up making out in the back of the theater.

You had dates throughout the rest of the week. You had no idea how to define your relationship (there had been nothing official yet), and you were too afraid to ask. You wanted to be his; you felt like his. You knew there would be no one else for you.

Isaac invited you over for Christmas dinner. Your parents were heading out to a dinner party and were fine with it. You knew Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski would also be in attendance. You felt welcome into a family you weren’t 100% sure was yours.

You arrived at 6pm on the dot, wearing a maroon red dress with tights. Isaac answered the door in a dark button-up you haven’t seen on him before.

“Merry Christmas,” you smiled. He leaned down, kissing you. You had to pull away before you made out on the McCall’s porch. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?”

“Not when you’re dressed like that,” Isaac looked you up and down. You scoffed, but your heated cheeks betrayed you. Isaac let you in the front door and to the living room where everyone was. Melissa and Noah were preparing dinner while Scott and Stiles drank Martinelli in the main room. They greeted you upon entering. You handed them both their gifts.

“I can’t believe you and Isaac are dating,” Stiles scoffed, unwrapping your gift by tearing through the paper. “He doesn’t have enough class to keep a girl like you.”

You waited with bated breath to see if Isaac denied the dating claim, but he just wrapped his arm around you instead.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Isaac coughed. Stiles glared at him.

“That analogy would require me to have Lydia, which I don’t.”

“Shocker,” Isaac raised his brows. You elbowed him. Stiles laughed when he saw the collectors editions of Sherlock Holmes you got him. You sat down on the ground next to him so he could give you a hug.

“You’re so good with gifts,” Scott whistled as he beheld the jacket you thrifted for him.

“It’s my superpower. You guys are werewolves, I’m actually Santa,” you grinned. Isaac sat down next to you.

“I didn’t know Santa was hot.”

“I have to keep my identity a secret, or I’ll never get any work done,” you responded. Isaac smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek. Stiles made gagging noises.

“I hate seeing you happy.” You and Scott both hit Stiles at the same time. “I was kidding.”

You pulled out your gift for Isaac, handing it to him. Instead of unwrapping it, he grabbed your hand pulling you up.

“We’re going to exchange gifts elsewhere,” Isaac announced. “My Christmas gift to you is not kissing her in front of you guys.”

“You’re so gracious,” Stiles mumbled.

“Happy for you, man,” Scott was too busy trying on his jacket to look at you guys. You hid your face in your hands as Isaac dragged you towards his room. You hadn’t been in it before and already had butterflies in your stomach when he closed the door behind you.

“Did you have to say that?”

“I speak only truth,” Isaac said. “Plus, I do really want to kiss you.”

He didn’t give you time to explore his space before his lips were on yours. You grabbed his waist as he cupped your cheeks, backing you up slowly. Your knees hit the bed as his lips trailed from yours to your neck. You moaned as he nipped your pulse point.

“Isaac,” you breathed, attempting to push him away. You would let him divest you of your clothing if it was any other day, but today, you were cognisant of his family downstairs.

“I just like kissing my girlfriend,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “Is that a crime?”

“I’m your girlfriend?” you asked, voice small. His gaze softened.

“Yeah, if that’s okay…”

“It’s perfect,” you beamed, kissing his cheek. “Now, open your gift before we get too distracted.”

Isaac grumbled as he pulled away from you but grabbed the gift that had been discarded when he started kissing you. You hid your smile as he unwrapped it. Unlike Stiles, he spent a little more time being delicate with it. His breath caught as he saw what it was. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting the box in his lap as he unfurled a darker blue cashmere scarf. You sat next to him as he caressed the material.

“I know it’s not your Mom’s,” you murmured. “But I thought it would look nice on you.”

“It’s perfect,” Isaac sighed, folding it nicely and setting it aside. “You’re perfect.”

He kissed you again, this time gentler but no less passionate. He imbued every word that wasn’t created into that kiss until you felt your head spinning, and you thought you might fall over into the abyss with him. He pulled away with difficulty.

“I do have a gift for you,” Isaac said, hesitation in his voice. He pulled something out of his pocket, putting it in your hands. You opened them to see the car keys. You looked up in disbelief.

“Before you ask, no, I did not buy you a car,” Isaac held up his hands in defense. “I can’t afford that. However, I found out that Derek was attempting to get rid of one of his older cars because he had a ton for some reason, and I offered to do maintenance around the apartment complex for three months in exchange for the vehicle. Plus, after I told him it was Aidan who destroyed it, he was pretty amicable.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you beheld your kind boyfriend, who had gone out of his way to replace something and, in exchange, became beholden to someone else again. You didn’t have words for the love fueling you right now. You just pulled him close, clutching him in a hug that almost knocked him over. You breathed in his sweet scent, holding him close.

“You are amazing,” you grinned, pulling away. “Thank you, Isaac.”

His cheeks turned a cute shade of pink as if he had no idea how to process your love. He looked down at your entwined hands, hiding a smile. You bit your lip.

“I could think of one more Christmas gift I could give you,” you whispered, hand trailing up his thigh. “If you’re up for it.”

Isaac looked up at you immediately, his breath catching as you traced over his jawline to his collarbone.

“Yes, I think I’d like that gift,” he grinned, pushing you farther back on the bed and kissing you.

He was the best Christmas gift you had ever received, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

taglist: @alice3612 @rafecameronswhore @evasmlp

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #daniel sharman #daniel sharman x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #my writing #ficmas #ficmas 2024

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ealdormanink · 1 month ago

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Can I request one with Ivar? 💓

You, daughter of a great king, are married to him and the seer told you you will give him many children and Ivar tells you he wants to marry a second wife and you and him were together since you were only teens and you are not really happy about that idea that there maybe will be another woman .

I could totally understand if you dont want to write it 💓

Prophecies and Promises

Ivar the boneless x female reader!

Thank you for the request! I hope you like this oneshot. Content includes angst, drama, and themes of betrayal. Not exactly a happy ending, you've been warned!

The winter wind howled through Kattegat, carrying with it the salt of the sea and the promise of snow. From the great hall's balcony, (Y/N) watched the first light of dawn paint the fjord in shades of gray and silver. Her fingers traced the wooden railing, feeling the familiar grooves where she and Ivar had carved their initials years ago, back when they were barely more than children.

The sound of movement behind her made her turn. Ivar was there, dragging himself across the floor with the same fierce determination he showed in everything he did. Even now, after all these years, her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"You're up early," he said, pulling himself onto the bench near the wall. His blue eyes, sharp as always, studied her face.

"I couldn't sleep." (Y/N) pulled her furs tighter around her shoulders. "The gods were restless in my dreams."

Ivar's expression shifted, almost imperceptibly. There was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before – a mixture of guilt and resolution that made her stomach tighten with unease.

"We need to talk," he said, patting the space beside him on the bench.

Those words, spoken so softly, carried the weight of an ax falling. (Y/N) knew, with the same certainty that guided ravens to battlefields, that whatever came next would change everything.

The silence stretched between them like a bowstring pulled taut. (Y/N) remained standing, her knuckles white against the dark fur of her cloak.

"The Jarl Eriksson will arrive tomorrow," Ivar said, his voice steady. "With his daughter, Sigrid."

"The shield-maiden?" The words felt like ice on (Y/N)'s tongue. Tales of Sigrid Eriksdottir's prowess in battle had reached even Kattegat's shores. Young, fierce, and above all, from a powerful family whose alliance could strengthen their hold on the northern territories.

"Yes." Ivar's fingers drummed against his leg brace. "I intend to make her my second wife."

The world didn't stop. The waves below continued their endless dance against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out. Yet (Y/N) felt as if she'd been plunged into the deepest part of the fjord, the cold seeping into her bones.

"I see." Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. "And when did you decide this?"

"It's not about decisions, it's about necessity." Ivar moved forward, his arms tensing as he shifted his weight. "We need the alliance with Jarl Eriksson. His ships, his men—"

"Don't." (Y/N) turned to face him fully, her father's royal blood burning in her veins. "Don't pretend this is just about alliances. How many years have we been married, Ivar? How many winters have I shared your bed?"

"Seven winters." His jaw clenched. "Seven winters without an heir."

The truth of it struck harder than any physical blow. (Y/N) remembered the Seer's words, spoken in the darkness of his dwelling: 'Your womb will give Ivar the Boneless more sons than any king before him.' She had clung to that prophecy through every moon that passed without a child quickening in her belly.

"You don't believe in the Seer's words anymore," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I believe in what I can see." Ivar's voice hardened. "I believe in securing my legacy, in strengthening Kattegat. You're a king's daughter, (Y/N). You understand the weight of duty."

"Duty?" She laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "Was it duty when you taught me to throw an ax? When we would sneak away from the great hall to watch the stars? When you promised me I would be the only queen you'd ever need?"

Ivar's expression flickered, a shadow of the boy he'd been passing across his face. "We were children then."

"We were in love then," (Y/N) corrected. She moved away from the balcony, her steps measured and precise. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps we were children. But I remember every promise you made, Ivar Ragnarsson, and so do the gods."

She paused at the doorway, her hand resting on the carved wooden frame. "I hope Sigrid Eriksdottir brings you everything you wish for."

The great hall was beginning to stir as she walked through it, servants preparing for the day ahead. None dared meet her eye. News traveled fast in Kattegat, and already they must know what was coming. The proud princess who had failed to give their king an heir would soon share her crown with another.

The arrival of Jarl Eriksson's longships painted a bold stripe of red and black across the harbor. (Y/N) watched from the steps of the great hall as Sigrid Eriksdottir strode onto Kattegat's docks, her golden hair braided with leather and bones, shield strapped to her back. Every inch a shield-maiden, every step that of a future queen.

The crowd parted for her like waves before a ship's prow. (Y/N) felt the weight of every gaze shifting between them – the two queens, present and future, as different as fire and ice. Where Sigrid wore leather and steel, (Y/N)'s dress spoke of her royal upbringing, its deep blue fabric threaded with silver like the night sky.

"Welcome to Kattegat." (Y/N)'s voice carried across the courtyard, steady despite the storm in her heart. This was the game of queens, and she had learned it at her father's knee long before she'd learned to love Ivar.

Sigrid's bow was perfectly measured – respect for a queen, but not submission. "You honor us with your welcome, Queen (Y/N)." Her Norse was clear and sharp, like the ax at her hip. "The tales of Kattegat's beauty do not do it justice."

Behind her, Ivar watched them both, his eyes calculating. He had always loved games of power, but this was no game on a hnefatafl board. These were real pieces, real lives, real hearts being moved across the board.

The feast that night was a blur of mead and music. (Y/N) sat in her place of honor, watching as Sigrid captivated the hall with tales of her raids along the Saxon coast. The warrior-woman's laugh rang true and deep, and more than once, (Y/N) caught Ivar's gaze lingering on her.

It wasn't until the moon had risen high that the first wave of nausea hit her. (Y/N) gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white against the wood. The smell of roasted meat, usually so appealing, suddenly turned her stomach.

"My queen?" Her handmaiden, Astrid, leaned close. "Are you unwell?"

"I need air," (Y/N) whispered, rising from her seat. Few noticed her departure – all eyes were on Sigrid, who was now demonstrating sword techniques with one of Ivar's warriors.

In the quiet of her private chambers, (Y/N) pressed her forehead against the cool stone wall. This wasn't the first time she'd felt ill this week. Or the week before. But she'd been too consumed by Ivar's announcement to notice the pattern.

"My queen." Astrid's voice was soft behind her. "When was your last bleeding?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. (Y/N) closed her eyes, counting back the moons. Her hand drifted to her stomach, and for the first time, she felt it – the slight firmness that hadn't been there before.

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, bitter and sweet all at once. The gods had a cruel sense of humor. After seven years of waiting, of hoping, of praying – now, when Ivar had already decided to take another wife, the Seer's prophecy chose to fulfill itself.

"Tell no one," she commanded Astrid, turning to face her oldest friend and servant. "Not a soul."

Astrid nodded, understanding darkening her eyes. "What will you do?"

(Y/N) looked out the window, toward the distant mountains where the eagles soared free. "What any mother would do to protect her child." Her hand remained on her stomach, where Ivar's heir grew stronger with each passing day. "I will ensure no one can ever use this child as a pawn in their games."

The next fortnight passed in a blur of preparations. Sigrid's presence in Kattegat grew stronger with each passing day, her influence spreading like roots through fertile soil. The warriors admired her strength, the common folk her easy manner, and Ivar... Ivar's eyes followed her with an intensity that cut deeper than any blade.

(Y/N) watched it all from behind a carefully crafted mask, one hand often resting unconsciously on her still-flat stomach. The morning sickness she hid behind closed doors, the fatigue she blamed on poor sleep. Only Astrid knew the truth, helping her conceal the signs that would soon become impossible to hide.

The night of the betrothal feast arrived with the first real snow of winter. The great hall blazed with firelight, the air thick with the smell of roasted meat and sweet mead. (Y/N) sat in her place of honor, watching as Ivar announced his intention to take Sigrid as his second wife. The hall erupted in cheers, horns raised in celebration.

"A toast!" Sigrid's father boomed, his voice carrying over the crowd. "To the alliance of our houses, to strong sons and victories to come!"

The words struck (Y/N) like a physical blow. Her hand tightened around her untouched horn of mead, watching as Ivar raised his own cup. Their eyes met across the hall, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his gaze – regret, perhaps, or memory. But then Sigrid leaned close to whisper something in his ear, and the moment shattered like ice in spring.

"It's time," (Y/N) whispered to Astrid, who stood faithfully behind her chair. The preparations were complete, set in motion days ago with the quiet efficiency that had made (Y/N) such an effective queen.

Two trusted guards – men who had served her father and come with her to Kattegat – waited by the stables. A small boat was ready at a secluded dock, far from the usual harbor. Everything she needed was already packed, loaded under the cover of darkness.

"Wait three days," she instructed Astrid, pressing a small wooden pendant into her hand – a token that would prove the message came from (Y/N). "Then tell him what I said. Not before."

Astrid's eyes shone with tears she dared not shed. "The gods go with you, my queen."

(Y/N) stood, her movements unhurried and dignified. No one paid much attention as she left the feast – it was common for the first wife to retire early when celebrations involved the second. Outside, the snow fell thick and silent, covering her tracks almost as soon as they were made.

At the stables, she mounted her horse with practiced ease, adjusting her heavy cloak around her. The child within her was still too small to hinder her movements, but she could feel its presence like a warm flame in her belly, a secret strength.

"We ride for the eastern path," she told her guards. "Through the merchant routes, where the traders won't question another group of travelers."

As they rode away from Kattegat, (Y/N) didn't look back. The city that had been her home for seven years disappeared into the snowy darkness behind her. She thought of Ivar, still celebrating in the great hall, unaware that his firstborn child was already slipping beyond his reach.

Three days would pass before Astrid would deliver her message. Three days before Ivar would understand what he had lost. By then, (Y/N) would be far beyond his reach, carrying with her the heir he so desperately wanted – the first of the many children the Seer had promised, though not in the way anyone had expected.

Three days later, the great hall of Kattegat stood silent in the gray light of dawn. Ivar sat upon his throne, fingers drumming against the carved armrest, his mood as dark as the circles under his eyes. The celebrations had ended, but something else had ended too – something he couldn't quite name until Astrid stepped forward, clutching a wooden pendant he recognized immediately.

"Speak," he commanded, his voice hoarse. Three days since anyone had seen (Y/N), three days of searching, of questions met with silence.

Astrid's chin lifted, her voice clear despite her fear. "The queen bade me tell you this: The gods have already chosen the mother of your children long ago. The Seer did not lie."

The words hung in the air like smoke. Ivar's face remained still, but his knuckles whitened against the throne's wood. One heartbeat. Two. Then understanding crashed over him like a wave, and his roar of rage echoed through the hall. The drinking horn in his hand flew across the room, shattering against the wall.

"When?" he demanded, dragging himself from his throne with dangerous speed. "When did she know?"

Astrid stepped back, but held her ground. "I cannot say, my king."

"Cannot or will not?" His eyes blazed with a fury that had made warriors tremble.

"She carries your firstborn," Astrid said softly, delivering the final blow. "The child the Seer promised. The first of many."

Ivar's laugh was hollow, breaking like ice in spring. Of course. Of course the gods would play such a cruel joke. All his plans, his calculations, his political maneuverings – undone by the very thing he'd wanted most.

"Find her," he ordered the guards. "Search every path, every village, every—"

"She's beyond your reach now," Astrid interrupted, earning gasps from those present. "Three days' journey ahead, on routes you don't know, toward a kingdom that will protect its princess."

Ivar's hand shot out, grabbing Astrid's arm. "You helped her."

"I served my queen," she replied, unflinching. "As I swore to do."

Miles away, (Y/N) stood at the bow of a merchant ship, the wind pulling at her hair as they sailed east. Her hand rested on her stomach, where the heir to Kattegat grew stronger each day. The Seer's prophecy would come true, but not in Kattegat's halls. Her children – Ivar's children – would be born free from the politics of second wives and power plays, raised in her father's kingdom, where no one could use them as pawns in a game of thrones.

Behind her, Kattegat disappeared into the horizon, taking with it seven years of love, of promises, of a future that could have been. Ahead lay the unknown, but (Y/N) stood straight and proud, every inch her father's daughter. She was more than Ivar's wife now – she was a mother protecting her child, and in that role, she was as fierce as any shield-maiden.

The wind carried the sound of seabirds and the salt spray of the sea, but not the echo of Ivar's rage as it shook Kattegat's walls. Not the sound of his fist against wood as he realized what his ambition had cost him. Not the bitter truth that his firstborn child – the heir he had so desperately wanted – would grow up never knowing their father's name.

In the end, the gods had given him exactly what he asked for, but taken away everything he truly had.

#ivar the boneless #oneshot #ragnar lothbrok #vikings #vikings x reader #x reader #halfdan the black #the last kingdom #finan #romance #angst #drama

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aziarts · 5 months ago

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be still, my beating heart! 💓

#armored core #armored core 6 #ac6 #honest brute #my art

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mitskicodedwukong · 1 month ago

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💓 CRUSH 💓 || Triad!Wukong x Reader Oneshot

» crush (ethel cain) « 0:21 ─〇───── 3:20

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝🍑╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗🍑╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is reposted from my old account, @nothyenlowz :3 ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is gender neutral (except for one use of "maiden" in reference to you). ➤ This oneshot includes Dragonhead/Triad!Wukong, who is apart of the Triad AU belonging to @/skittlescripts! ➤ This oneshot in based off @/dumplingsjinson's 4th unrequited-but-not-actually-unrequited-love prompt! ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include use of "name" (couldn't avoid it, sorry </3), profanity, denial of feelings, avoidance, lying, self-deprecation, angst, and crying. ➤ Word count: 4,340

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❝ Camo jacket, robbing corner stores; hard odds to beat when you're on all fours .❞

You didn't want this.

It started off innocently enough—a blush when you caught the Great Sage's eye, a bit of a tremble to your voice or your knees when his hand brushed yours, squealing into your pillows when he gave you gifts. Embarrassing reactions, yes, but not surprising. Afterall, whole gods have found themselves swooning for the Monkey King—what chance did your mortal self stand against the demon's wicked charm? But surely your little... celebrity crush didn't mean anything significant.

Except it did.

You barely ever had crushes growing up, much less attractions so passionate you could call them love. But with Wukong, it came far too easily. You loved the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the way he managed to create a community of loyal allies despite his many enemies. But then you also loved the simple things—his real laugh, the one that made him clutch his stomach and cackle until tears were dripping from his eyes; the way his tail swayed like a dog's and curled into a something preciously heart-esque when he was excited; the way he smelt of peaches and flower. You were always finding out new things about him through opportunities presented to you and you alone, as if he was a whole world just for you to—

No!

No, no, no!

This is how the greatest friendships crashed and burned. That initial spark of attraction and a hopeful heart paired with a traitorous brain poisoning you with sweet what-ifs and flowery dreams is all it takes for you to make one irreversible, permanent step; for you to pour your heart out only to hear we can still be friends! and watch him drift away.

Well, not you. You weren't going to risk breaking your heart nor your and Wukong's friendship over a crush, no matter how insistent. So after many sleepless nights of brainstorming, you finally devised a plan to squash your feelings for the Monkey King.

1.) Create distance physically.

You tap your fingers against your thigh anxiously, fighting the urge to scratch angry red blotches into the skin while you wait for Wukong to pick up your call. You thought this method would be easiest for enacting Step 1, assuming Wukong and Macaque wouldn't be able to pick out any lies over the phone. But with how long it's taking him to answer, maybe you were better off just ditching your phone altogether—

"Hey, peaches!" Wukong's cheery voice greets over the line, making you huff in relief. "What's up? You're not calling to ask if you can come up, right? Because you know I've told you you can just come, riiighttt?"

Your heart swoons pathetically, and you have to aggressively remind yourself that hanging out with Wukong is the exact opposite of what you want to achieve.

"Yessss, I remember," you force out in a nasally, cracking voice that you pray sounds convincing. "But no, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh, peaches, are you sick?" Wukong asks worriedly, and you can feel his furrowed eyebrows through the phone.

"No," you snark, and then you force out some rough-sounding coughs, grimacing at the way your throat stings. "This happens every year. Sometime near spring I get super sick for like a month—might be the pollen or something, I dunno."

"I never noticed," Wukong replies softly. "I'm sorry, peaches. I woulda helped you before if I'd realized."

Your heart flips again and you lean away from the phone to muffle a quiet squeal into your palm before returning. "It's—" cough "—fine. I'm a big girl, a little springtime bug isn't going to kill me. But it is gonna keep me in my house for a few weeks."

"In that case, why don't I let Macaque handle things for a bit and come over—"

"No!" You snap out, your hand immediately smacking over your mouth at the outburst. Fuck! You think, mind racing to recover from your fumble. You let out a series of coughs as you think, then lick your lips. "S-Sorry... while it means a lot that you'd do that for me, when I get like this... it's just easier to handle it alone. I don't really have the energy to be around people or have them around me."

You cross your fingers, your opposite hand gripping your clothes in a white-knuckle grip as a few beats of silence pass. God, let him believe me so I can hang up—

"Alright, peaches," Wukong replies in that same gentle voice, the one that makes you melt like butter, and you have to lean back so he won't hear the relieved puff of air you let out. You're so busy rejoicing you nearly miss what he says next. "But I'm still going to drop food off to you, alright?"

Seeming to sense the coming argument from you, he adds, "I'll just drop it off at your door and send you a message."

You sigh, a small smile forcing it's way on to your face despite the situation still not being as perfect as you'd hoped for. "Guess I can't stop you, sunshine."

"Nope!" Wukong laughs, popping the p. "Get well soon! Who knows what mischief I'll be up to without my angel to keep me on the path of grace?" he coos with a subtle purr to his words. A wild blush blooms on your face, burning your ear tips as you soak in what he said.

"You're supposed to be able to do that on your own, Great Sage," you croak out, burying your flushed face in your unused hand even though the cheeky monkey isn't here to see it.

"What's the fun in that?" Wukong snickers. Then his voice lowers again, squeezing your heart. "But seriously, take care of yourself, peaches. If you need space, that's fine, but if you need help, ask. There's nothing you could do that would chase me away."

What he says is sweet, so sweet, and dream-like. His words make you think of a fairytale, with you a fair maiden and him a brave, persistent, dragon-slaying knight.

But life's not a fairytale, and things won't go your way just because you wish on a star.

"Will do, Wuks," you say quietly. "Bye."

"Bye, peaches."

Beep-beep.

Step 1... achieved.

2.) Create distance emotionally.

You couldn't just get rid of your crush (well, you probably could, but that'd entail some magical intervention you're not quite desperate enough for yet), but maybe you could weaken it by limiting how much exposure you had to Wukong. Hard, considering how popular he was, but surely not impossible!

So, to start off easy, you got rid of your merch. You were able to sell most of it online, but the more stuff you got rid of, the more... upset you felt. Which made sense, sure—they were things you loved, of course, and if you hadn't fallen in love with one of your best friends, you'd never part with it—, but your thoughts felt... insane. You found yourself wondering if people would take care of it, if they'd love it and find the same joy in it that you did.

The idea of someone doing anything less made your skin crawl, and for a few brief moments, you considered doing full deep dives on buyers to make sure the merch was going to a good home. Then you reasoned you sounded absolutely obnoxious, like some creepy fangirl and not a close friend of Sun Wukong, and gave the rest away without any further hesitance.

Goddamn, did it sting though.

True to his word, Wukong stopped by your house once every few days with food and medicine. At first, you were worried he'd try to talk to you or ask to come in, but the only way you even knew he'd been there was when he alerted you with a message. You were grateful for it, but words couldn't describe the relief you had that he left no gifts in the bags.

If he had, that might have set you right back to square one.

Your house felt... empty without Wukong's memorabilia, but you chopped it up to your distaste for change. Obviously the nearly crippling discomfort in your own home was because of the now-barren walls (no way it was because you'd just given away dozens of sentimental items), so you bought some pretty posters of bands, artists, and games you liked and hung them on the wall. It wasn't the same, but you supposed that within time, it'd become your new normal.

You decided to ignore the way that settled on your body like gloomy fog.

Now... for the harder part.

Aside from merch, Wukong had gotten you plenty of personal products. Clothes, jewelry, perfumes, cooking utensils you'd been eyeing, plushies—that sort of thing. You knew just by looking at it that it was expensive, probably things that would land you in debt for life if you'd bought it yourself, and rare, too. Likely some one-of-a-kind stuff, knowing Wukong.

You spent three nights despairing over what to do with them. Giving them away to the masses felt disrespectful to say the least, and you didn't have it in you to fight with your heart so much when it protested the idea. Throwing them out didn't feel much better, and neither did burying them, but you couldn't keep them. No, no, no, it'd just encourage your stupid crush if you caved and kept anything, especially the personal stuff!

So you did the only thing you could think of: gave it to your family.

It still didn't feel great either way, but at least you knew they were being cared for. And if Wukong happened to ask for any of it back, it'd be easy to retrieve.

Later in the day, you expect to feel relieved at having found a solution, but it only fills you with dread.

All that's left are the notes.

You keep them in a pretty box in your desk. It's a deep red covered in bright splashes of color meant to resemble fireworks, with bright iron hinges on the back so it could open and close. It's perfectly pristine, not so much as a speck of dust upon it, its well-cared-for appearance taunting you as you lift it out of its drawer and sit on your bed.

You know you shouldn't look at them, but it's not like it'll change anything—you already have them memorized by heart, anyway.

Dear (name), "Sunshine", huh? Can't say it reflects much of who I am as an infamous, invincible god, but I'll take it over "simian" anyday! I think I'll call you "peaches" in return. It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Sunshine and Peaches. Like two peas in a pod. Anyway. I hope you like the clothes!

You laugh softly as you read the note. This had been after you mistakenly let your unspoken nickname for him slip after one of his meetings, flustering both you and the unprepared Dragonhead. Despite your furious blush and profuse apologies, Wukong had made you explain your reasoning behind the nickname (which was mostly Macaque's fault—damn him and his "sun and moon" metaphors). You were mortified, thinking you'd set your and Wukong's relationship way back, but when he started calling you peaches...

Sunshine stuck, and you two really did become peas in a pod.

You've torn through the whole box of notes by the time you realize there are tears running down your cheeks. When the realization hits, you bend over and press your hands to your face, open-mouthed sobs wracking your body.

Why'd it have to be him? You could've fallen hopelessly in love with anyone, and your heart chose him?

Wukong isn't the problem. No, not at all. Next to you, the Monkey King seems wild, volatile, too much. But that's only because you're a mortal, incapable of shining even half as brightly as he does. Wukong's a god, an immortal king, a being who'd felled thousands in mere moments—your best friend deserves someone who could meet him at his level, not force him into some domestic role.

Someone better than you.

The thought sends a sharp wave rocking through your chest, but with it comes some rush of desperation—you don't know if it's to fight for or against something, but it leads you to pluck one of the notes from its place on the bed,

turn it over so you can't see the words,

and fucking shred it.

That night, you lie amongst the torn pieces of paper like they're ruins of a city—something you used to know, used to love, used to find strength in.

Now they're something to be forgotten.

Step 2 is done.

3.) Find somebody else.

You have to admit, Step 3 was definitely a desperate plan B if nothing else worked, and, well...

Nothing else was working.

Your "sick" month had passed, and you were now three months into simple ignoring Wukong. You were honestly surprised the Monkey King hadn't broken into your house yet, but based on some demon conflicts you'd seen on the news, you figured he was busy.

But that wasn't the problem. What was the problem was your crush hadn't waned in the slightest! In fact, your attempts to get rid of it had only made you want to run further into Wukong's arms, where you'd be drowned in the scent of peaches and flowers and the feeling of soft fur and a strong body against yours and—

Goddamnit!

Part of you felt... tired; sick of what you perceived as dramatic and begging for a break from the heartache. It whispered to you, questioning how good Wukong was to keep around if he would cut you loose just for a crush—even saying that it'd be good for you. Save you the trouble and put you on the path of healing before it got real bad... whatever that meant.

But the other half of you fought and it fought hard. You wanted Wukong, even if it meant you could only have him as a friend. He made you feel good and you'd die before giving that up—that was why you'd started this whole mess in the first place!

Besides. Even in the highly unlikely, fantastical world that Wukong didn't reject you—you were a mortal, temporary and simple. Unfortunately, the same would be applied to your relationship. When you ended, so would it. If you couldn't grow old together, if you'd inevitably leave Wukong heartbroken and alone, was it really worth even considering?

No. That's why you're here at a café (far away from Wukong's headquarters, you made sure), sitting across from... your date.

They're gorgeous. With fawn-colored skin, soft brown eyes, and wavy, blonde, orange-dipped hair, they make you think of summer, of beach days and ice cream in the park. And they're sweet, easily cracking jokes with you and complimenting you without overwhelming you. They're... perfect.

But they're not Wukong, and the way you remain acutely aware of that as you share sweet treats with them destroys any hope you had of destroying this crush.

You're trying to think of ways to let your date down gently when you hear the door chime go off. A new customer is nothing to draw any real attention, of course, but a chorus of sharp gasps and your date's frightened stare looking past you makes you turn.

And, god, you wish you hadn't.

Wukong walks into the café calmly, his face unreadable as he scans the booths. You're fairly certain you already know why he's here, but when his eyes meet yours you just know you're fucked.

The café owner bee-lines to Wukong. "G-Great Sage!" They greet, bowing low. "What brings you here?"

Wukong doesn't break eye contact with you. "Nothing to do with you," he answers smoothly before approaching you in long strides.

You can do nothing but watch as he approaches, pinning your tongue between your teeth as you hold the intensity of his stare. Your date, seemingly noticing the tension between you two, reaches out to grasp your hand, but you gently pull away with a shake of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whisper sincerely, sliding enough money for the meal towards them just before Wukong reaches your booth.

The monkey eyes your date, unblinking. If this was any other situation (one where you hadn't avoided him for three months), you'd give him a gentle kick to the leg or something so he'd knock it off. But the situation is too tense, his presence too damning, and you're grateful for the few seconds you get from out beneath the demon's fiery gaze.

"Peaches," he finally murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "We need to talk."

Fuck.

You get up without a word, placing your purse over your shoulder and heading towards the front door with your eyes on your feet. You can feel everyone's eyes on you—or rather, the two of you, as Wukong walks beside you until you reach the door, which he opens for you. Then he follows you out, staying just far enough behind you that he doesn't step on your heels.

Neither of you speak until you get to a bridge, void of people and surrounded by cherry blossom trees. It's adequate shade from any noisy individuals, and you're not sure if it was purposeful or not, or how you feel if it was. Wukong stops beside you as you peer over the edge.

"Peaches," he says, his voice still soft. "What's going on?"

Fuck.

You immediately deflect. "How did you find me?"

You hear him suck in a breath.

"How?" You hiss out, glaring up at him.

He stares at you in silence for a moment, then turns on his phone. As he presses a button, your phone vibrates in your hand.

"You tracked my phone?" You ask, blinking owlishly.

"You weren't answering me," replies Wukong simply, pocketing his phone again.

Your face flushes in frustration. "I was out—"

"For three months?"

That makes you go silent. Your phone vibrates again, making the screen light up. You can see Wukong's name in your notifications, but you dare not look to see how many there are, lest it condemn you further.

"You know, I went to your house," Wukong carries on, his voice thickening. "All the stuff I got you is gone."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

"Yeah," you mumble, your gaze falling to the ground.

"Why? Did you not like it?"

You're torn between honesty and further denial. In the end, Wukong speaks before you can make a choice.

"You didn't throw out the notes."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"It took—" his voice chokes out for a second. Your body tenses, your hands turning to white-knuckled fists at your sides. You don't look up. "It took a lot to put them together, surprisingly. Were really dedicated when you tore 'em up, huh?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Did you lie about being sick? Did you... were you just trying to get away from me?"

"It's not like that," you say, rushed, and you know as soon as the words leave your lips that you shouldn't have spoken.

"Then what is it like?" Wukong chokes out in a thick voice, but you still refuse to look him in the eye.

"I... needed alone time," you mumble.

"Why couldn't you say that?" Wukong replies, a bit of sharpness to his tone, and you can't help but feel like you've opened up the floodgates. "Do I make you feel so unsafe that you'll lie to get away from me?"

"Don't assume things about me," you snap hotly, your eyes flickering to his. They glow with a subtle red color, fixated on you, a testament to how much this has really affected him. But that's not what gets you.

It's the tears collecting in his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

"What else am I supposed to do?" He grits out. "You ignored me for three months. You didn't even text back to say if you were still sick, or if you just wanted me to stop contacting you—"

"Wukong, I—" you try, taking a step backward when the monkey flings his arms.

"And you didn't answer MK or Macaque, either!"

"Wukong—"

"You scared the shit out of me, peaches!"

"And I'm sorry for that," you bite out, managing to shut him up for a minute. You gulp, your grip on your purse tightening. "But I had... I have a problem I have to fix—"

"What is it? If you would just tell me I could help!" Wukong exclaims, reaching towards you.

"No!" You shout, twisting away from him. "You can't help, Wukong!"

"You don't know that!"

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

"I do! I do know that!"

"How?! How could—"

"BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA FIX ME LOVING YOU?"

Wukong falls silent. Still. Your hands slap over your mouth.

The two of you stand in silence for what feels like forever. The river feels deathly silent, and not even the wind blows. Finally, you remove your hands.

"I-I mean, I can fix it, don't worry," you say quickly, the words spilling from your lips like water. "T-These... feelings—they're temporary, I promise. They're just, uh, a b-bit more stubborn than I was expecting, y-y'know? But they're nothing serious, I swear! I-I know I've been difficult these past few months, I know, I'm sorry, just... just—"

"They're what?" is all Wukong utters, his stare burning through you.

You startle for a second, hands dropping to your chest. "T-They're temporary," you repeat. "Not serious, I swear. Nothing has to change."

Wukong doesn't reply at first. Then:

"What if I want them to be serious?"

Your heart nearly stops in your chest at the force of your surprise. "What?" is all you can get out, staring owlishly at the demon.

"I said," he speaks slowly, stepping towards you. "What if I want them to be serious? To be permanent? What if I want you to be head over heels for me, hm?"

You shiver as he stands before you, hands ghosting over your hips.

"What if I want it all to change, peaches?"

Your heart thumps in your chest, your mind desperately trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Surely he's not... he doesn't mean...

"I don't understand," you whisper, your hands hesitantly pressing against his chest.

"Oh, peaches," he coos softly, leaning in until his forehead rests against yours and all you can see are his eyes.

"Wu—"

"I love you, (name)."

Your breath catches in your throat, your mouth falling open in shock. Your entire body freezes, your thoughts halted as you process his words...

and then your heart soars.

"Me?" You crack out, a blush warming your skin exponentially. It's a bit overwhelming, the mix of love, surprise, and unfiltered relief. So much so that you can't stop the tears from building up in your eyes and slipping out as you stare up at him. "You love me?"

"Of course," Wukong says softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your tears away. "How couldn't I?"

A sob leaves your mouth at the question. "'C-Cause you're... I'm—"

"Simple?" Wukong ventures, frowning at your nod. He huffs, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Peaches, you are anything but simple. You're brilliant and talented and witty and a quick-learner. You keep me guessing even now, and I've been around for a while," he soothes you sweetly, a breath of laughter to his voice.

You can't help but laugh a little with him, your heart swelling at his compliments. Your hands slide up his chest and his neck, feeling the soft fur slide through your fingers, and settle on his cheeks. You mirror him then, your thumbs petting his cheek bones and brushing away the wetness in his eyes. Another wave of fresh tears overcomes you when he leans into your hands.

"You're the closest thing to perfection I've ever seen," Wukong murmurs emotionally, one of his hands retracting to engulf one of your's. "You're my girl. My peach. My qíng rén."

A sob breaks free of your lips again as you pull Wukong against you, hiding your face in his chest as you cry. The Dragonhead curls around you, as if shielding you from the outside world, which you're thankful for.

Damn. All of this to find out the great Monkey King loves you back? You're not complaining, god no! Despite your tears, your heart is doing tricks, somersaults and great leaps and cartwheels. It's just...

You definitely have some communication skills to work on, you think.

That can wait, though, you think then, your crying finally tapering out. You manage to tilt your head enough to see Wukong's face, the demon smiling down sweetly at you. Your fingers fiddle with his tie for a moment before drifting upwards and holding his face again.

"Peaches," Wukong calls softly, holding your gaze. "What're you thinking?"

You pause before answering. "I... I want to kiss you," you admit, watching the monkey's face turn a red hue similar to your's. "Can I?"

His ears wiggle, his nose twitches, and then he nods, and you can feel his tail wagging by your legs.

The time for picking on his adorable monkey mannerisms will come later, because right now all you're focused on is bringing Wukong's lips to yours and finally knowing how it feels to kiss the Great Sage.

It's done at an awkward angle since Wukong didn't let you go, the both of you straining a bit to meet each other in the middle, and you break away fast, but it's perfect to you. Maybe not how you imagined a requited crush kiss going, but it's your greatest wish come true in spite of that.

"I love you," he breathes.

Your breath catches again, your heart still flipping ecstatically. "Say it again."

Wukong grins, fangs peeking out of his smile. "I love you, qíng rén."

As you bring the Dragonhead into another kiss, you think of one thing.

Maybe fairytales do exist after all.

❝ Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you .❞

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