#It’s always better when we’re together.

[eternalsunrise]

study date

lsu! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 1.7k

tags! established relationship, make out sesh, no actual smut, jus a couple of horny college kids in love with each other, vomit inducing fluff

notes! brainrot so bad i had to start writing fics. hope the joe burrow community finds this well 🧘‍♀️ expect more for joe coming! xoxo

letters on a keyboard clicking and a pencil scrawling across paper are the only sounds that reverberate around the room. you started off sitting up straight, but as time progressed you’re basically lying down, laptop perched on your lap.

the pillows are plush underneath you, and your boyfriend’s scent is enveloping you. there’s something about joe’s bed that always feels 10 times more comfortable than your own.

if you closed your eyes you could probably doze off for a mid afternoon nap.

you hear the sound of someone shifting above the covers, but you don’t turn your head to look, too preoccupied with your essay that’s due in the morning.

you feel a kiss press against your cheek, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “hi joey. you doing okay?”

another kiss against your cheek, followed by an overdramatic sigh, “yeah, just really hard to focus on statistics with something so distracting in my bed.”

joe’s closer now, a hand playing with your hair as he peppers kisses down your jawline.

you roll your eyes at his antics, knowing exactly how this was going to go. “oh i’m the distracting one?” you question, your tone sarcastic.

he moves his hand to your cheek, tilting your head to the left to face him. his blue eyes bore into yours and you realize why you’d avoided looking at him. it’s much easier to stay on task without his handsome face in view.

joe leans down to place a slow peck on your lips, “a very.” peck. “very.” peck. “pretty distraction.”

he pulls away from you entirely, smirking when you try and chase his lips. this is exactly why you wanted to study alone. as much as you loved your boyfriend, how are you expected to get anything done with a gorgeous quarterback all over you? but the two of you have barely seen each other these past few weeks, and joe insisted on you both doing schoolwork together before his practice later that day.

“joe. baby. we’re supposed to be studying.” your voice is pleading, begging for any sort of mercy. he caresses your cheek bone with his thumb, a smirk sitting on the side of his mouth. “i am studying.” he uses a tone that tells you he wants you to ask what his punchline is. you bite.

“and what are you studying exactly, joseph?”

he trails his hand down your body until it rests on your waist, just above where your hands and laptop sit. he lets his eyes trail down and back up, bright blues staring at you while he licks his lips, “anatomy.”

you let out a laugh for his sake, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from your body, “you’re impossible!” you place a quick kiss on his lips, standing up and taking your laptop.

joe groans loudly, falling back against the pillows on his bed, “where are you going?”

you carry your work to his wooden, student-issued desk, setting your laptop down and taking a seat. “you’re going to stay there. and i’m going to stay here. we both need to get work done and it’s hard to do that when you’re being…well you!” you try to sound frustrated, but you both know better.

joe being the cocky bastard he is, just gives you a knowing smile. the effect he has on you just strokes his ego (as if anyone else needed to). he decides to leave you be for the time being. he picks his pencil back up and holds his hands up in faux innocence, “yes ma’am. whatever you need.”

you turn back to your essay, typing your third page, smiling when the framed picture of you two displayed on his desk appears in your peripheral vision. if you looked around, your presence is covering this room. his whole apartment in fact. sure, you may be putty in his hands. but you have joe burrow pretty much wrapped around your finger.

after about 20 minutes of both of you working diligently in silence, you hear joe clear his throat.

“hey pretty?”

“mhm?” you reply, clicking back and forth between your class notes and your paper.

“didn’t you say you took this class last year?” joe asks, deep voice like velvet when it hits your ears.

you pause your task and turn around in your chair, “yeah i did for a semester, why?” he looks absolutely delicious. he’s sporting a cozy lsu hoodie and nike gym shorts that reach barely mid thigh, his trademark array of bracelets decorate his wrists. the way one of this legs is raised make his shorts ride up, giving you a peek at his black briefs. you suddenly wonder if the essay is even that important.

“wanna come check this for me? make sure i did it right?” he taps his pencil a couple of times and holds out his notebook toward you. there’s no flirtation intent behind joe’s question, he just values your insight. and for some reason, that just turns you on even more. he’s won. he’s getting what he wanted without even trying.

you stand up from your seat and make your way over to him, taking the notebook from his hand. he looks up at you in silence, waiting for you to check his work. but instead you toss the notebook to the side. it makes a slight thud when it hits the hardwood.

joe opens his mouth to question your actions but you’re on the bed with him in a matter of seconds. you swing your leg over his hip and straddle his lap, legs resting on either side of him. his hands are on you immediately, per instinct, large hands engulfing your thighs. it takes him a moment to process your actions but he sobers up quickly, cocky and confident, “aw, who knew stats could get you so worked up?”

you want to knock that stupid smirk off of his face. you also never want it to go away.

“shut up.” followed by a feverish kiss full of want and desire. the lack of each other for weeks has stretched the rubber band of tension to a hilt, and you finally let it snap. your fingers thread through his wavy hair at the nape of his neck, tugging just a bit. he’s due for a haircut soon. a noise rattles up from his throat, your reaction immediate. your hips grind down, begging for some friction. he gladly provides, guiding your waist back and forth.

the next moments are full of tongue kisses and heavy breathing. “next time we—“ gasp. “study together, we’re doing it in public–ow!” joe bites your lip, an apology vibrates against your lip, you know he doesn’t mean it. “like the library.” joe grips your hips and flips the two of you over with ease. you yelp in surprise, now looking up at him.

joe scoffs at your words, “like that’s ever stopped us before.” he reconnects your lips, a new sense of urgency found in this kiss. he props himself up with an elbow next to your head. your leg finds itself hooking around his waist, forcing him impossibly closer to you. he breaks away for air, hand dragging up and down your lifted thigh. he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

he looks down between your bodies and watches as your hips lift to meet his own, adam’s apple bobbing. his eyes flick back to yours, a familiar darkness clouding the ocean. his kisses follow a trail down your jaw, “god baby, you drive me crazy.” he purrs in your ear, lips attacking your neck. you aren’t sure how he can say that, when you’re the one that feels dizzy under his touch. your hand finds his hair again, letting out fits of giggles when his mouth grazes your most sensitive spots.

you tilt your head to the side, catching sight of the time on your phone screen as it lit up on the nightstand. you let out a gasp, partly because of joe shifting his hand between your thighs, but mostly because it was almost time for, “joe. practice.”

he returns his attention to your lips, “5 more minutes, all i need.” he murmurs, capturing you in a kiss that’s hard to turn away from. you feel his hand slip under the waist band of your pants, and as much as you dread this ending; you know what you need to do.

“joey. babe, hey.” you use your grip on his hair to pull him away. the love drunk look on his face makes this even harder. “listen. as much as i want to, we can’t. you love to be unreasonably early, and coach o will track me down himself if i’m the reason his star isn’t there for pre, pre warmups.”

joe chuckles and nods his head, reluctantly removing his hands from you entirely; it’s as if you’re magnets, if he isn’t across the room you’ll gravitate back together. he stands and starts to get ready for the one thing you’re forced to share the title of joe’s first love with, football.

you start to stand to get ready to go home, but joe quickly faces you and shakes his head, black backpack and cleats in his hands.

“no no no stay. here.” he throws his backpack over his shoulder and uses his free hand to dig in his pocket. he pulls out his purple lanyard, plucking his apartment key from the carabiner.

joe places it in your hand and folds your fingers over it.

“here, i’m gonna have you one made anyway. go back to your dorm, grab some stuff. you can order dinner, finish your homework here. i’ll be back in a couple hours and i’ll take you to that froyo shop down the street and then we can…finish what we started.” joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. he punctuates his words with a sweet kiss on your lips, another on your forehead, “bye pretty. love you.”

you stare at him in awe, “love you. have fun!”

he winks at you before he walks out of the front door.

you sit there on the edge of the bed, staring down at the shiny key in your palm. you’re shocked at how he can make such a big relationship step seem so nonchalant. he’d obviously been thinking about this for a while, you being around more. in his space.

you flop down on your back, kicking your feet with a giddy smile. if you weren’t alone you’d be embarrassed.

looks like you’ll be studying here a lot more often.

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddle with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, whether you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[outermaybanks]

practice part iii - part one // part two a/n: didn't have the energy to proofread we die like men. cw for manipulation (less than previous parts tho), p in v, 18+ mdni

“You sure ‘bout this, cupcake?” JJ asked, his breathing already heavy as he practically drools, staring at the wet spot forming on your panties. “Just want to go a bit further… just a little bit,” you mumbled needily. The air felt thicker, your heart racing, an impulse driven by a feeling you had never felt before, but everything in you told you JJ was the answer. “Just on the outside?” JJ asked, to which you nodded, and that was all the confirmation JJ needed before planting his hands on either side of your head, then leaning on his forearm as he carefully guided his pink, leaking tip to press against your clothed cunt. The friction alone made you let out a sweet sound of pleasure, one that would be burned into JJ’s memory. 

His breathing started to pick up, even you weren’t oblivious to the way he seemed to ache for more, mimicking your own pathetic need as his hips move erratically, trying anything to get the best angle, but it wasn’t enough for you, a needy whine falling from your throat. JJ knew what you needed, he needed it too. 

“It’d feel better without your panties in the way,” JJ quickly offered. “But… Jay… that’s basically-” “Just the tip, it doesn’t count… it’ll feel real good, princess, promise. Have I been wrong before?”

JJ had been plenty wrong in the duration of your friendship, but you really, really wanted him to be right.

“Okay… but just a little bit.”

“Here-” JJ said before wrapping his arm around you, rolling you do you rested on his lap, him beneath you. “This way you’re in charge, mkay?”

His words made you furrow your eyebrows together, and JJ could see the confusion written on your face, so he rested his hands on your hips, slowly moving you back and forth against him. You quickly understood what he was getting on, so you placed your hands flat on his chest, and hesitantly started grinding against him like you did to your pillow late at night. It didn’t take long for you to figure out that his tip brushing against your clit felt like heaven.

“There- you can- can control how much you want to go in, kay?” JJ said softly, trying to maintain his composure, trying to keep you thinking this was still all your idea. “How much is- I mean-” “Don’t worry about that. Just do what feels right, baby” JJ practically purred, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your head, pulling you down to press his lips against yours. As your focus shifted to kissing him, it took you a second to realize JJ’s other hand had moved to your thigh, rubbing and kneading the flesh softly before sliding his hand under them to lift you slightly. He was getting impatient, he needed to feel you, but he knew he couldn’t push, not when he was finally so close. No, you had to be the one to take this next step. 

“JJ- you sure this okay?” you asked between labored breaths. “Yeah, ‘course I am… I mean- if you don’t want to-” “No, no, no, I do, I promise”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, baby, we’re friends, we’re just helping each other feel good. Friends want friends to feel good, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

JJ smiled before putting his hand on the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. His kiss always left you feeling drunk, and this moment was no exception. JJ’s hand guided yours to his dick, helping you angle it and line it up against you. The pressure against you had you craving more, and you found yourself desperate to believe JJ: just the tip, it doesn’t count.

Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt as you try to lower yourself just a bit, JJ was quick to help, and when you felt him inside, both of you let out a relieved groan at the feeling. Suddenly, it felt like this was always supposed to happen. And you wanted more.

“Mm.. J…” you whined softly, hoping he could read your mind. “Yeah baby?” he practically hissed through gritted teeth, trying to control himself. Instead of using words, you let out another whine, but JJ understood perfectly. “You want more, cupcake?”

You didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to say what you really wanted out loud. But JJ could read it on your face.

“Take what you need, baby, s’okay.”

You bit your lip as you sank down further, your focus on the concentration; telling yourself just a little more, just a little more- until your head fell back from the overwhelming feeling of being filled by JJ, your hips collapsing down, unable to hold yourself up.

JJ let out a hiss, his hands immediately coming to your hips. “Sh-Shit-” “JJ…” you whine needily, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

“Shh, I got you, cupcake. Want me to stay still? Or-” “Want you to move, please JJ-” you mumbled, surrendering to your urges. JJ didn’t need to be told twice; he had waited a long time for this moment. One of JJ’s arms snaked around you, taking hold of your waist to lift you softly so he could thrust up into you, making your head fall against his shoulder.

“There you go, baby, I’m here, I gotcha,” JJ said softly into your ear, but you could barely bring yourself to focus. “God you feel so fucking good… knew you would.”

Your breathing was getting heavier, breathier, the praise made your body feel warm all over. Small whines and whimpers escaped your throat right into JJ’s ears as if the sinful sounds created by your sloppy cunt wasn’t enough evidence of the pleasure he was giving you. Your body was still humming from the ecstasy of your first orgasm, there was no way you were lasting long, not when your body was still buzzing from your first orgasm, not when he filled you so perfectly, his hips moving at just the right pace; it was like JJ already perfectly understood your body, and knew what you needed before you did. 

“‘M gonna…” you mustered out. “JJ-” “I know… can feel it… s’okay, baby, let go for me…”

Your breathing got faster and faster, your moans grew louder and louder, you came with a cry of his name, your arms holding onto him for dear life. 

Neither of you moved, just staying perfectly still minus the rapid rising and falling of your chests as your both pant for air. As the lustful fog started to fade away, a slight panic started to rise in your chest: had you made a terrible mistake? Is your friendship with JJ ruined forever?

Before your anxiety could spiral any further, JJ spoke. “God you have… no idea how… how long I wanted to… do that,” JJ breathed out between labored breaths, as if he knew you needed some reassurance that this was still okay. 

“That was… Oh my god…” your breathing still hadn’t returned to normal. JJ chuckled, moving some hair out of your face, admiring the blissed out look you had, his eyes trailing from the hazy look in your eyes, to the way your heart was still beating out of your chest, and he knew in that moment he could never go back to pretending he didn’t feel this desire for you.

“You did so good, baby… now, next time you’re feeling needy like that, you just call me right on over, ‘kay cupcake? Papa J will come take care of you.”

[homesick4la]

the kiss — hamzahthefantastic

summary: after being just friends for a while, one night at a drive-in theater changes everything.

contains: smoking, a little nsfw- heavy making out

a/n: i haven’t written anything in literally two years but the hamzah edits have brought me back to writing fan fiction…. also i did not proofread sorry…im lazy!

after bringing down all the seats in hamzah’s car and spreading several throw blankets around, the two of you laid comfortably in the back. you had convinced him to take you to the drive-in to see the newest addition to the “x” trilogy- “maxxxine”, promising that you’d help him edit his next youtube video.

as the movie begins, you two settle underneath a large blanket, laying just a foot apart. hamzah pulls out the small weed pen that always seemed to be in his pocket. without saying a word, he instinctually hands you the pen and turns to look at you. he’d always enjoyed watching as you’d bring the small device to your lips and gently blow out the smoke. in the past, he’d told you that he liked to watch you smoke because the way you coughed after each hit was funny.

the reality was that he just found you so fucking pretty. he couldn’t help but stare at the way your soft lips pursed together and your cheeks hollowed out when you sucked from the pen. and he absolutely loved the big smile you’d give him while trying to contain your cough.

“god this thing is so burnt”, you chuckle, handing it back to him.

“i know, i’m gonna get a new one tomorrow so we can finish this one tonight.” hamzah explained before taking a hit. you admired him as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back before releasing the smoke from his mouth. god he was so hot. you’d always found him attractive and smoking made those thoughts in your head grow louder.

after passing the pen back and forth for a while, you two could no longer focus on the thriller movie playing in front of you- the weed making you both so giggly and talkative.

“bro remember when you fell at the fair,” hamzah says, out of breath from laughing at the memory.

“stop, that was so bad! i literally still have a scar from that, look!” you lift your forearm to his eye level, revealing a small, red scar near your elbow.

his fingers trace the small scar. “you only had half a white claw and it had you falling over”, he laughs.

“shut up- i tripped on your big ass foot and you know it.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever- hey what’s even going on right now?” he gestures to the movie.

“i have no clue.” your reply, sending you both into a laughing fit. as your laughter begins to fade, you turn to look back at hamzah. the moment you two make eye contact, his smile fades. he stares and stares and stares. leaving you in a confusing, unnerving silence.

“uh- well even though we’re not even watching the movie, thank you for doing this with me.” you break the silence, giving him a small smile. “i’ve had a pretty shitty week, so i needed this.”

“yeah me too.” his voice is soft, quieter than before. “i always feel better when i’m around you.”

you smile. you weren’t used to hamzah saying sweet things like that- you two were always so unserious when talking.

“i- uh i’ve always liked being around you and talking with you,” he looked around nervously. “and i always thought we’d be just friends but y/n, i like you. i like you- not just in a friend way.” he admitted- the weed making him feel a little bolder than usual.

you giggle, “thank god because i’ve had the most embarrassing crush on you for so long.”

hamzah’s eyes light up, “and you never said anything?” he laughs.

“no, i was scared you didn’t like me like that!”

he smiles widely, “i like you like that.” he reassures.

you start retelling the story about when you guys first met, revealing that you had liked him ever since then. his eyes are locked on yours- occasionally glancing down at your lips. as you’re talking, his hand finds its way to yours- gently laying on top of it. it lingers there for a few seconds before tracing up your arm. his cold fingertips drag along your forearm, all the way up to your shoulder, and to the side of your neck. eventually, he places his hand on your cheek. he rubs his thumb back and forth as you continue talking, but you soon go quiet. his touch causing you to lose your train of thought.

you stare into his big brown eyes- smiling at what a sweet moment this was.

“y/n, can i kiss you?” hamzah said softly. a light nervous chuckle echoed at the end. you nodded quickly, looking up at him through glossy eyes.

he wasted no time connecting his lips with yours. his hands cradled your face as he kissed you softly.

the kiss was innocent. slow and sweet. but as you grew comfortable, it became apparent that there was a certain hunger within both of you.

his hands move from your face down to your waist. he pulls you in closer, pressing your bodies together.

you part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth effortlessly. his hands grab ahold of your hips before shifting your bodies so he could hover on top of you.

the kisses get messier and messier. he pulls away, planting a kiss on your jaw.

“been..waiting..for this..for s’ long.” he says between the kisses he’s leaving along the side of your neck.

you hum as he continues kissing down to your collarbone. you grip onto his biceps as his fingers slide under the thin straps of your tank top.

just before he can continue, a loud scream erupts from the screen. being brought back to reality, the two of you stop. the thought of you two hooking up at a drive-in move like teenagers makes the both of you laugh.

he lays down aside you once again, draping his arm over your shoulder. “we’ll continue this later- without the sounds of people getting murdered in the background y’know.”

“yeah i’d like that”, you smile. “but take me out to dinner first.” you tease.

“oouu,” he chuckles at your comment. “we’ll go wherever you want.” he states before planting a kiss to your temple and turning his attention to the movie.

a/n- i feel like this is so bad and cringe and kinda short.…i just may never write again….jk…but seriously don’t judge i haven’t written in forever jus wanted to write something for funsies

let me know if u guys want more k bye muah

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek of the next chapter of Come Away, O Human Child

He meets Shannon at the same restaurant they decided to end their marriage in less than a month ago.

It’s strange…he’s well aware of just how drastically your life can change in a short amount of time. How drastically everything can change in an instant. He’s had his own share of moments that changed everything—split seconds where the before and after were entirely different lives. Meeting Shannon. Her telling him she was pregnant. Holding Christopher for the first time. Getting shot down in Afghanistan.

Walking into the 118.

Meeting Buck.

He knows how drastically your life can change in a short amount of time, but Christopher’s birth is the only thing that has ever made him feel so much like a different person. He’s not the same man that he was the last time he and Shannon sat down together to talk. Shannon seems to sense it, watching him with sharp, curious eyes as they place their orders.

“How’s apartment hunting going?” he asks as soon as the runes woven into the fabric of the tablecloth flash blue and their drinks appear a moment later.

“Good. I’ve got it narrowed down to a couple of places—if you don’t mind, I’d like to sign Chris out of school early this Friday and take him with me for the walkthroughs. I want him to have a say in where he’ll be staying when he comes to visit. Thought we could take the weekend to see some of the sights, maybe get a fancy hotel room?”

Eddie nods, mentally flicking through the calendar of appointments and plans he has over the next few days. Chris has a doctor’s appointment early next week, but there’s nothing pressing. “Yeah, of course—he’ll love that.”

Shannon smiles at him, taking a sip of her drink and leaning back in her seat. She looks good—relaxed and happy in a way she really hasn’t been the last few months. He wonders if she sees the same in him, and it makes his heart ache for both of them. Trying so hard to do the right thing and just hurting themselves and each other doing it. And isn’t that just the story of their entire relationship?

“I’m glad things are going good for you,” he says, and sincerely means it. Shannon’s smile widens, and it strikes him how very much their son looks like her. He sees more of himself in Chris’s mannerisms and expressions, but in looks, he’s practically Shannon made over.

“Thanks, Eddie,” she says, and then tilts her head with that shrewd look that has always made him feel like no one would ever know him as well as this woman does. He knows that’s not true, now. Buck knows him every bit as well as Shannon ever did…knows him better in some ways, understands him on levels that Shannon was never able to reach no matter how hard she tried.

But Shannon knew him first. She will always be the first person who looked and saw him, he thinks.

“But I’m guessing you didn’t ask to meet up just to tell me you’re happy for me?” The runes on the tablecloth light up again, and they both sit back as their steaming plates appear—mushroom risotto for Shannon, salmon and asparagus for him. He stalls a moment by grabbing his fork and poking at the (perfectly done) fish before shrugging and nodding.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I’ve, uh, got something I want to talk to you about.”

Shannon raises an eyebrow at the serious tone of his voice. “Okay,” she says slowly.

“So, I know we haven’t really talked about, uh, how we want to handle it if…when…we want to maybe introduce someone. To Chris. Someone new.”

The other eyebrow shoots up, surprise and something a little hurt flashing across Shannon’s face. “You’ve already met someone?” she asks. “And you want to introduce them to our son? Eddie, we’re not even divorced yet!”

And oh…oh, yeah, okay, it sounds bad when she says it like that. “No! No, not like that—” He breaks off with a heavy sigh. “It’s…complicated,” he finishes lamely. Confusion joins the surprise and the hurt, and Eddie mentally throws his hands up. “It’s someone Christopher already knows—someone we see all the time. Nothing was going on while you and I were still…anyway, it’s new. For both of us. But I don’t want to try and sneak around Chris when we see this person so much. But we already talked about it, and we don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You’re his mom, Shan—you get a say in this.”

Shannon’s brow furrows, and she tilts her head slightly. “Who is it?” she asks.

“It’s Buck,” he says simply.

It surprises him a little, actually, how easy it is to say. They’ve kept it totally between them, this new…development in their relationship, agreeing that they don’t want to throw anymore hand grenades into their lives until everyone knows about Buck’s curse, and why he can’t try and get his magic back. They’d also agreed that Chris needs to know before anyone else in their immediate circle, and that Shannon needs to be a part of that conversation. It should feel bigger, he thinks, more momentous, telling someone else for the first time, let alone his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Like everything with Buck, though—every damn thing—Eddie finds that it just…fits. It’s easy, when it comes to Buck. The truly important things are always easy.

Shannon’s jaw actually drops, and she stares at him wide-eyed for a few seconds, before abruptly shaking her head. “Okay…is it weird that that’s not even in the top fifty of things I thought you were going to say and completely unsurprising?”

[lockes-woods]

i would love to see your take on an enemies to lovers trope. shanks x afab reader, with a very sweet confession at some point, and some smut at the end with aftercare. 😊

A/N: This was so much fun to write ^-^. I did alter it a bit to be Friends to Enemies to Lovers. Also side note while this one shot is on the longer side, requests very in length. If anyone makes a request in the future I can't guarantee they'll be this long.

Warning: PIV, Oral (reader receiving), battle scene (violence mentioned), Shanks being a cocky bastard.

I think that's all the warnings, please let me know if I missed any

WC: ~5,100

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This couldn’t be real, could it? It had to be a fever dream. There was no way you were here now with him doing this. But it felt so real. While there was a small possibility that you had sustained a concussion in battle, it didn’t explain the feeling of featherlight kisses he was spreading across your thighs as he opened them further to accommodate his broad shoulders. Each kiss was accentuated by the scratches of his stubble.

“Fuck,” he moaned at the sight of your ruined panties.

“This all for me love?” he asked, making eye contact with you for the first time since you had stumbled back to his captain’s quarters. You could only whimper pathetically in response as he tugged down your underwear, tossing it somewhere over his shoulders. You whined again as he spread your lower lips with ease, your stomach fluttering at every hot exhale of his breath on your clit.

“Fuck, please” You moan as he pauses his movement to backtrack and begin to suck a hickey into your plush thighs.

“Please, what love?” he asked, smirk ever-present on his face.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” you huff.

“Oh, no of course not baby,” he said teasingly stroking your slit with a smirk, “I’m gonna make you beg for it.”

You hated that you found that so attractive. When did his smirk stop making you want to deck him, and instead make you want to drop to your knees to please him?

“We’re gonna be here for a while then,” you replied stubbornly. He only hummed in response, nipping at your clit. His smirk only grew as your thighs trembled trying to snap themselves together. If his shoulders weren’t purposefully angled in the way you would have fully squeezed around his head to keep him anchored to that spot.

“Come on love, why don’t you make it easier on both of us and admit you want to be here.” He started, pulling back from your pussy. He crawled up your body, lips now hovering over yours as he balanced himself on his right hand. A whine escapes you as you look up into his red eyes, gaze unwavering. You bit your lip to suppress a moan at the feeling of his swollen member lying hot and heavy against your thigh.

“Fuck, Shanks I-” you tried, face warming at his unwavering attention. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just say it. He had, if he hadn’t there was no way you would have let him drag you back to his quarters. Why did you always have to be so stubborn? While you knew factually it was a side effect of growing up on the sea, especially as a young girl, you couldn’t help but feel frustrated at yourself. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to center yourself, before blinking your eyes open to the sight of red eyes you would never get tired of seeing.

“I-I love you,” you responded in a small voice, your reply causing a smile to split across his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite hear that love,” he joked, smile never leaving his face. A laugh broke through him as you slapped his chest, playfully glaring up at him. As his laughter died down, he looked down at you in a way you could now distinguish as love.

“I love you too, baby,” he said pecking your forehead, nose, then lips. “There’s a better chance of hell freezing over than I ever stop loving you,” he confessed, pulling at your heartstrings. If you had told 12-year-old you that’d you be in this position with Shanks, she would have laughed in your face.

***

Your sides hurt from laughter as you watched a semi-disembodied Buggy chasing Shanks across the deck, cards flying around them. The three of you were always playing pranks on each other. Today it was Buggy’s turn to have the short end of the stick. You and Shanks had been cheating at cards for an entire four rounds before he was let on to your trick. There weren’t many things to do at sea. Well, at least there weren’t any things to do when there wasn’t another ship across the entire horizon. Pranks were the main way the three of you passed the time, outside of your morning training with Rayleigh. While the three of you were apprentices to the entire crew, you specifically were chosen by Rayleigh for your swordsmanship and courage.

You were from a small poor island. At the age of ten a deadly crew of pirates had attacked your island out of frustration after finding no riches and limited resources. The Oro Jackson intercepted the attack, not before you were made an orphan. Roger’s crew only intervened because of the crucial restock they had arranged with your island’s elders. Rayleigh found you amidst the flames stationed in front of one of the only remaining buildings still standing where the women and children had been evacuated. You were standing guard with nothing more than a carved wooden sword. Four of the enemy pirates littered at your feet in various stages of consciousness. The next morning when the flames had finally started to smolder, he made you an offer of apprenticeship; under the guise that you were a boy. When he asked for your decision and name you immediately responded yes, with the name of your now-deceased father. You knew a chance of getting off the island was far and few between, there was no way you were going to let this opportunity pass.

After dinner amends had been made from the earlier prank and you were all back in each other’s good graces. It was a calm uneventful night. You turned in early, because of your morning shift as the lookout. You had a restful night, waking up earlier than needed so that you would be able to grab a shower in the communal washroom. While it hadn’t been easy to conceal your gender, it had only gotten exponentially harder as you started puberty. You began having to wrap your chest to compress it from other’s view. You knew it was only a matter of time before you would get your first period. You shook that thought from your head, you would deal with that when it came. If you were lucky there were two maybe three people up and using the washroom at this time. You took the stall closest to the wall as you always did so that you could redress quickly and have easy access to your clothing on the hooks to change in the stall. For the most part, no one questioned your behavior, chalking it up to shyness.

You hummed to yourself as you finished washing the soap off and turned off the shower. You stuck your hand to grab your bag and were met with nothing. Furrowing your eyebrows you stuck your head out, all the color draining from your face as you were met with the sight of only your towel remaining. Your breathing became erratic as you processed what was going on. It was gone, you didn’t know how or why, but you knew this was it. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable conversation to come from Rayleigh and Roger. There was a high chance of you being dumped at the next developed island. This is the end of your story as a pirate. You took a deep breath to collect yourself and wipe away the tears. If you had to go you were going to go out with your head held high. You took one last breath as you slipped into the towel and rolled over the top to keep it snug and in place around your chest. You slipped on your shoes that had thankfully been spared and made your way down the corridor and out into the lower deck. You were immediately met with Shank’s unmistakable red eyes and his signature smirk. His laughter only lasted a second, before he was able to process the situation. His smirk immediately dropped from his face, a blush forming instead as he took in your barely covered form. You walked past him purposefully shoving against his shoulder and harshly yanking your bag from his grasp as he stood there motionless. You kept your gaze straight ahead as you made your way back to the apprentice quarters. Buggy was thankfully fast asleep, as you quickly clothed yourself, binding your chest for what could be the last time.

You made your way up to the crow’s nest and completed your shift on watch. As you suspected Rayleigh was waiting for you at the base of the crow’s nest, an unreadable neutral look on his face. He nodded to his right, and you nodded in response, wordlessly following the first mate to the upper deck where you normally trained. You did a double take as he unsheathed his sword and widened his stance, your own sword lying on a nearby bench. You collected it, mirroring his stance, as you began to fight like it was any other day. By the time you were finished, you were covered in sweat and superficial cuts. You fell back onto the bench exhausted, taking a large swig of water from your canteen before Rayleigh sat down next to you. He turned after taking a drink of his own water before addressing you.

“You need to work on letting your emotions control your form,” he started, critiquing you like it was any other day, you blinked up at him confusion clear in your eyes. He continued allowing you to ask questions and discuss further tactics. One the conversation began to drag you went to stand up, assuming that what had happened earlier hadn’t gotten to him yet. Your stomach dropped when he stuck a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“About the incident this morning,” He started, voice level, he paused taking in your panicked look.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, feeling tears begin to prick at your waterline.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze, “But there will be some changes.”

“What kind of changes?” you asked after taking a deep breath.

“Shanks and Buggy will be moving into the main sleeping area, the small room you share with them is now yours.” He started, “Also to avoid any more awkward run-ins you will be assigned a half-hour time slot in the bathing area, you will not be allowed in there at any other time.”

You nodded, blinking away your tears.

“Other than that, we expect you to continue to work and pull your own weight just as any other crewmember does.” He finished, you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before you asked about the cause of your anxiety.

“When did Shanks tell you?”

“Shanks didn’t tell us, at least not directly.” Rayleigh started.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“A more senior crew member overheard him and Buggy arguing over what to do about your situation. They only broke down to give us information after we explained that we already knew what was going on.” He explained.

“Oh,” you said, in shock.

“I’d give your fellow apprentices a bit more credit,” Rayleigh said, smiling down at you. He gave you an affectionate ruffle of your hair before making his way back down to the main deck.

***

A guttural moan escaped you as Shanks sealed his lips around your clit and flicked at it with his tongue intermittently. While you had only just begun, you were already gone far enough to not give a fuck who overheard what you two were up to. If him sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you back to his quarters like a princess didn’t clue them in you didn’t know what would. You let out a helpless whine as his eyes trained upwards to meet your gaze. Even now, drowning in pleasure, his mischievous look pushed you over the edge at the same time he began to curl his thick fingers into places you could never reach on your own. You threaded your fingers through his hair, grip tight as you held him flush with your cunt. You threw your head back in pleasure, eyes closed tight, shamelessly grinding against his face as you succumbed to your first orgasm of the night. He aided your release, steadily fingering you just shy of overstimulation. Your grip loosened as you came down from your high, your entire body going lax under his ministration. Once you were back enough to be present in the moment you tugged gently on his hair ushering him back upwards. He followed your silent command as he shifted up, now hovering over your face.

You couldn’t help but hold onto the redhead’s face gently running your thumb over various scars he had accumulated over the years, placing gentle pecks across each imperfection that made him him. Your focus trained on the bridge of his nose where a healed scar lay. You were intimately familiar with the marking; you were the one who gave it to him after all.

***

Heavy pants escaped your throat as you stood toe to toe with your opponent, swords locked together in a battle of strengths. Your arms were burning, filled with lactic acid. Your gaze was locked into your opponent’s golden eyes as you tried to form a plan, knowing you had mere moments before he would inventively be able to overpower you. You took a deep inhale as you attempted to execute a maneuver that you had been practicing for years, but only completed successfully half of the time. You suddenly stopped all pressure applied to your sword, Mihawk’s eyes widened as he fell forward into you from all the inertia, he had built up during your head-to-head fight. So far so good you fell back into a bridge pose releasing one of your hands from your blade before knocking Mihawk’s side with the butt of your sword causing him to fall to your left. You quickly twisted your body to follow him down, kicking at his grasp on his sword, sending it flying. You straddled a now disarmed Mihawk, with your blade pressed snuggly against the swordman’s throat; knees pinning his arms down. Your own face hovering over his with a satisfied smirk. You shared a breath as each of you panted as you attempted to recover from your long-drawn-out fight.

“Well?” you asked in a presumptuous tone, with a shit-eating grin. Mihawk stared up at your gaze unwavering as he let out a long sigh.

“You win,” he said through tight lips.

“And?” you asked, a smile never leaving your face.

“I owe you dinner.” He said again, voice edged with annoyance. You had spent enough time with the swordsman to know his irritation lay with himself losing more so than you being the specific one to pin him. Satisfied you pulled back onto your feet offering a hand, which despite his bitter mood he accepted. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as he held your warm hand in his cold grasp. While you had only known him for a short while, you begrudgingly had developed a little crush on the sixteen-year-old prodigy. You weren’t entirely sure what brought on your attraction. Sure, he was pretty and well filled out with muscles he was not prudent about showing off, but you had never had a crush before; at least none that you would admit to anyone else about a certain redhead. You knew it was normal for a fourteen-year-old to harbor silly crushes, but it did not help with your hormonal fluctuation.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, after retrieving his sword and positioning it on his back, you sheathed your sword as well as you let out a hum.

“I think I saw a place that has poke bowls earlier. If that works for you?” you asked, making your way out of the field back towards town. He grunted in response, leading the way. You’d be offended if it weren’t for your knowledge that he was even more withdrawn after sparring as he analyzed what he did right or wrong. He had been on the ship for the better half of two weeks under the temporary guidance of Rayleigh. You walked the entire way back to the poke restaurant in a comfortable silence. Your focus on the main task of not making a total fool out of yourself. Mihawk finally broke the silence after your food was delivered and you began to dig in.

“How were you able to complete that move at the end?” he asked.

“If I’m being honest, it only works about half the time, the conditions have to be perfect along with my timing.” You answered before taking a large bite of fish that had been seared, but not fully cooked through. He nodded pensively, also beginning to eat.

“How did you go about making the move itself?” Mihawk followed up.

“It was an accident the first time,” you started taking a sip of water, “My arms gave out while sparring with Rayleigh and I ended up stumbling backward. I lost my sword, but did successfully catch myself and pin him; at least for a few seconds.” Mihawk hummed in response. You ate dinner in relative silence only speaking when discussing and critiquing each other’s form.

“Well, we should probably get back.” You said pushing out, away from the table, Mihawk hummed in agreement.

“I wouldn’t want your boyfriend to get the wrong idea if we’re late,” Mihawk mentioned, off hand as they headed down to the road towards the marina.

“My what?” you asked, confusion clear in your voice and the look on your face.

“Shanks, the redhead,” he answered, equally confused, “He and the blue-haired one made a big show about how I should only touch you when necessary, during sparing.”

Your mood immediately snapped from content to fury. You couldn't explain exactly why, but this felt like the maddest you've ever been.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have something I need to take care of immediately.” You said through gritted teeth, before taking off in the direction of the Oro Jackson. Your anger fueled your speed as you made it back to the ship in half the time it would normally take for that distance. You didn’t have to look far as Shanks and Buggy sat on the main deck playing cards. Shanks was facing away from you, while Buggy got a good look at your face. He immediately broke into the smallest piece he could handle at the sight of you, running away in multiple directions. Shanks turned, confused before you locked eyes, he dropped his cards, getting up with his hands held out in front of him in a defensive stance.

“I can explain,” he started backing up as you advanced towards him. He backed up quickly, his back hit the banister of the ship.

“Oh, and what exactly is there to explain,” you asked through gritted teeth.

“He asked if you were single and Buggy and I agreed it would be best for you-” he started before you cut him off.

“Oh, and what’s best for me?” you asked, venom clear in your voice, “I know you’re both idiots, but this takes the cake.” Before Shanks could even think of a rebuttal you kicked him in the shin hard, fueled by hormones and rage. He immediately dropped down holding his leg, before you punched him in the Adam’s apple with your right fist, and followed up by winding back and landing another punch on his eye with your left fist. You finished him off by grabbing his collar and slamming his face down on your knee. The cracking of his nose silenced the deck. He crumpled to the ground holding his freshly broken nose, blood leaking out of it and down to his shirt.

“Next time you two come up with a hair-brained scheme leave me the fuck out of it.” You said in a chillingly calm voice before you marched off to find Buggy. You were too in your head to acknowledge Roger and Rayleigh’s comments as you left the deck heading towards the sleeping quarters.

“Remind me never to cross that girl,” Roger said, gazing down at Shanks’ injured form.

“I doubt you’ll need a reminder,” Rayleigh responded, torn between being proud of his apprentice and being strict with the model for how their crew mates should treat each other.

***

Shanks left you breathless as he pulled back from an intimate kiss, he had poured all his love and devotion into. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his hot member resting between your folds.

“Shanks, please” you asked, desperation clear in your voice,

“Are you sure ready?” he asked teasingly, as he grasped his member purposefully running the tip up and down your soaked slit. You gave him an unamused look before reaching up to grasp the back of his neck to tug him closer.

“If you don’t fuck me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to leave and find someone else that can.”

Shanks's gaze sharpened, he wasted no time and immediately breached your entrance with the head of his cock. You moaned, throwing your head back with your eye shut tight as he eased himself into you, rubbing at your clit to distract from any discomfort you had as he fucked his large member into your tight cunt. You shared a moan when he finally bottomed out. He stayed there for a second to allow you to adjust.

“Baby?” he asked slowly pulling out only to thrust back in, “Keep your eyes on me,” he started between groans, “Wan-Fuck, want you to look at me when I make you cum.”

You followed his direction and blinked open your eyes trying your hardest to stay focused on his eyes while you were being split in half on his cock.

“Shanks,” you moaned grinding up against him.

“Fuck, I know baby. I know it’s a lot to take, but you’re taking it so well.” He grunted, thrust gaining speed, his lips drawing down your neck leaving nips and hickeys in his wake. You squeezed impossibly tight around him the coil in your lower stomach snapping. You moaned loud and desperately as he fucked you through your orgasm. Now whining at the overstimulation he just kept going, chasing his own high. You locked your ankles together behind him as the pain turned to pleasure again. With one well-timed out push, you managed to roll him onto his back. He groaned as you took charge, riding his cock like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it. Fuck, good fucking girl.” He began to babble as he reached the peak of his high. You could feel his hips stutter as he continued to thrust up, seconds away from orgasm.

“Where-fuck, where do you want me to cum” he panted.

“In me please,” you begged dropping down hard against him. He couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as he fucked rope after rope of cum up into you. You fell down, limp against his chest as you shared a breath, pecking each other’s lips one last time before fully collapsing against each other. You couldn’t help but smile contently as you listened to his steady heartbeat. You felt whole for the first time in what felt like a lifetime as you embraced your Shanks. In that moment, you weren’t two of the deadliest captains to ever grace the sea, you were two young lovers who were content as long as you had each other in your arms. Outside of your overwhelming content feeling you couldn’t help but feel remorse over the years lost over a petty disagreement and misplaced anger.

***

It had only been a month since Roger’s death and the disbanding of the Oro Jackson. You, Shanks, and Buggy stayed close, that was until Buggy and Shanks had a falling out causing the Buggy to leave last night without a word. You and Shanks sat side-by-side gazing out into the ocean, but instead of the normal content silence, you were surrounded by an anxious fog of uncertainty.

“I think it’s time for us to move on,” Shanks said, finally breaking the silence.

“In what way?” you asked, gaze not leaving the sea.

“I think it’s time I get my own crew. All I need is a first mate,” he said smiling down at you. In a move you still regret your grief flipped into rage.

“What do you mean first mate?” you asked, giving him a chance to explain himself as you tried harder and harder not to lose your cool.

“I’m gonna need someone I can rely on anything for,” he started, not feeling the shift in your tone, “Plus where am I going to find one of the best swordsmen to ever grace the sea?”

“You’re joking,” you said giving him an out that he unintentionally glazed over.

“Why would I be joking?” he asked, tilting his head at you in confusion.

“That’s all you think of me?” you said emotion high in your voice, “I’m not your equal, just something reliable to make your job easier.” You asked, before cutting him off before he could even begin to try to respond.

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, standing up.

“Wait, where are you going?” he called out after you.

“Somewhere, I’ll be appreciated,” you yelled over your shoulder making your way from the beach back into town. You were able to join a crew temporarily to get away from the island, and away from Shanks, as fast as possible. You gathered the best crew you could find, building an armada of ships, and making a name for yourself as a true captain of the sea. While you kept tabs on the redhead, it would never soothe the ache in your heart. You would occasionally find comfort in stranger’s beds you had never let yourself get as close to anyone again; too scared to experience that kind of heartbreak. The look on his confused face, as he tried to process how he had insulted you, fueled you. Spite was a hell of a motivator as you both, or rather just you, competed for the higher bounty.

That day was the last time you saw the redhead, that was until today. You were surrounded by Marine ships. You had fallen for a trap, now fighting for your life to survive the planned attack. The bounty on your head is redeemable no matter if you are dead or alive. Your pride was cast to the side as you tried your hardest to save as many crew members as you could, even if it cost you your life. Your stomach dropped as a marine ship became within range and threw down a board onto your ship’s banister, ready to board. This was it, all you had worked for and all you had sacrificed boiled down to an early death. You had just begun to prepare to barter your life for your crew’s when a cannonball ripped through the marine ship closest to you, just barely missing your own ship. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took in the jolly roger of the red-haired pirates. Its own fleet gained speed as it took down another two marine ships in the process.

You weren’t sure if it was just because of your near-death experience today, but the sight of Shanks’ ship was enough to cause tears to prick at your waterline. You shook your head as you focused on the task at hand. The fight wasn’t over. Another marine ship came to board your ship on the port’s side, while Shanks’ main ship settled up next to yours on the starboard side. Both the Marines and Shanks’ crew boarded your ship bringing the fight to you.

You unsheathed your sword, taking out as many marines as you could. In the midst of battle, you found yourself back-to-back with Shanks, falling back into a maneuver that you had learned as children.

“Captain,” he greeted.

“Captain,” you greeted back, slicing through a marine before stabbing him to finish him off, “What are you doing here Shanks?” you called out over the chaos.

“What am I not allowed to drop in for a visit?” he asked cheekily knocking out a marine who tried to rush you with the butt of his own sword.

“Cut the crap,” you yelled out, “You didn’t come here to risk the lives of your crew just to aid me.” You dismissed.

“Oh, and would it be so wrong if I did?” he called back, “You know most of the time you wouldn’t question a man risking anything for the woman he loves.”

“Shanks,” you said in a softer tone, just loud enough to be heard. His statement had you pausing and losing focus, to the extent that a marine almost got the drop on you. That was until Shank’s first mate shot him through the head behind you. You found yourselves face to face as the fight left your ship as your and Shanks’ crew raided the now defeated marine ship.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, reaching down to cup your face, rubbing away an enemy’s blood from your cheek as he gazed down at you softly.  

“Shanks,” you said, trying and failing to process what he was saying.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I never meant to question your abilities, I was just too dumb to tell you I wanted you close so that I’d know you’re safe.” There was no stopping it now as tears pooled in your waterline.

“I forgive you,” you said, leaning up to thank him with a chaste kiss. After what felt like a blissful eternity, you two pulled apart as a mass of loud cheering erupted. Your face felt like it was on fire as both the red-haired pirates, and your crew cheered at your kiss.

“Is there any way I can thank you?” you asked looking up at him through your eyelashes, earning a groan from the captain.

“I can think of a few ways,” he answered, smirking down at you. Before you knew it a celebration erupted by both crews. You sat next to Shanks, taking in his warm presence for the first time in ages. The auxiliary booze had been brought up. You both had your share of drinks, leading a tipsy Shanks to pick you up in his arms and race towards his quarters.

That’s how you ended up here, now, in the arms of a man you could never stop loving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I really enjoyed how this fic came out considering I was trying a new pacing method. I hope you're doing well where ever you are.

-Locke

[sillybilly89]

A Tight-Knit Family

Analysis + Notes

Notes in Orange, Lyrics in White

I know it’s a REALLY long post I’m so sorry

Well the situation’s this

I do not wish to offend

This gives off a lack of responsibility, showing Marvin doesn’t truly care for how everyone around him feels

I divorced my wife

I left my child

And I ran off with a friend

Marvin first refuses to call Whizzer his boyfriend, but is proud of the fact he left his wife and child, hinting at the internalized homophobia he has

But I want a tight-knit family

I want a group that harmonizes

Harmonies are chords and such in music, we know this, but I think it represents how he wants his family to sing harmonies to “Marvin’s song,” which is ironic because when he says this, nobody is harmonizing with him, where when Mendel sings, we have a big impact where everyone sings a harmony.

I want my wife and kid and friend

Marvin lists Whizzer last, showing how he’s either afraid to stray from his hetero lifestyle, or he doesn’t care about Whizzer’s needs as much as he does the other two.

-I believe it’s the ladder because it’s reflected in The Games I Play when Whizzer says, “it hurts when he’s off playing family charades,”

To pretend

Wants a heteronormative relationship no matter how it affects Trina, Jason and Whizzer

-heavy on the word Pretend

-recognizes they won’t heal because of him

Time will mend

Our pain

Recognizes he’s doing Trina wrong by leaving DOESN��T CARE (butthole alert)

So it’s 1979

So we don’t go by the books

We all eat as one,

Cooking is major symbolism for their family throughout the whole musical. We see cooking be what holds people together in I’m Breaking Down, Jason’s Bar Mitzvah, and something that becomes sort of weaponized (for lack of a better word) in the context of Whizzer in Thrill of First Love and Chess Game

Wife, Friend, and son

And I sing out as they cook.

His listing is very important!! When he describes Whizzer as Just a friend, Trina always comes first in the listing. He doesn’t want to leave the the marriage title behind (continuous heteronormative fantasy)

I love my tight-knit family

I love the way they cook linguine

Isn’t it great we’re all so swell

Such a dear clientele

I swear we’re gonna come through it

I fear we’ll probably fight

He says this as if he wasn’t the one to cause EVERY single fight in act 1. For example, Thrill of First Love he was instagating, Marvin Hits Trina, and Chess Game

But nothings impossible live by your wit

I believe Live by your wit implies that Marvin believes he “hacked the system” by using Trina and Jason to cover up his relationship with Whizzer

Kid, Wife and Lover will have to admit

Him admitting Whizzer is his lover changes the order of the way he lists his family members

-while Trina becomes second to most important, he is still lists Whizzer last.

That’s right, I cushioned the fall

I want it all

I want it all

I want it

Again through these last few lines, I don’t want to restate things I’ve prob said like 8 billion times now

Overall, Marvin can show evidence of recognizing what he’s done wrong, but still refuses to change, as he finds himself not caring about the people around him

I’m going to do these in order, excluding Four Jews because I‘m not sure what I’d do with that

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Humbly here to request my weekly sentences :)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️ I am SO intrigued by this idea

YAY!

45 for 🧟:

---

“It looked like a singular flashlight,” Maddie explains. 

“Maybe it’s just someone looking around,” Hen says. 

Because she hopes. Because she worries about the alternative. Because she needs for there not to be a threat to her son.

“Right, yeah,” Maddie nods. “Like a scavenger. Or a traveler. I’ve been there.”

“We don’t know,” Bobby decides. “And we’re not going to panic until we do. A handful of us can go scouting tomorrow.”

Hen is almost certain that includes her. Good. She’ll make sure Karen stays behind with Denny, where it’s safe. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Karen says. 

“I’ll take the first stakeout shift,” Bobby announces.

“I’ll join you,” Athena offers. 

“I appreciate that,” Bobby replies. 

And that’s that. It’s settled. They have a plan. 

Having a plan always makes Hen feel better. Not totally better, but less bad. The worst is being in a predicament and not knowing what next move to make. At least this isn’t that. Yet. 

But, still… Hen would be lying if she said she gets much sleep that night. 

September 8th, 2018

Denny is overflowing with joy in the morning. A few days of playing with boys his own age and he’s pretty much descended into being a total rascal. But compared to a child that only had adults for company and seemed a bit too old for his age, Hen will take a bit of  mischief and silliness any day. 

“What if something terrible happens?” Hen asks her wife quietly as they get ready for the day. “Denny is finally getting to be a normal kid.”

“I don’t know if this is normal,” Karen says, looking across the room to where Denny and Christopher are playing Connect 4. “But, yeah… I know. I can’t stop thinking, Eddie left his kid here. He trusted Maddie and all of us. Now what if when he gets back…”

God, Hen hadn’t even considered that. 

“I hope they get back soon,” Hen mumbles. “We could use numbers and weapons on our side, just in case.”

---

60 for ❄️:

---

Basically, Eddie can’t be blamed for any of this. He’s free of guilt. He didn’t mean to… Well, do anything. 

Really, all he wanted to do was be less of a fucking mess. 

i.

“I think group therapy would benefit you,” Frank says, one session in late June. 

Christopher is still gone and Gerrard is still captain and life still pretty much sucks. Every day just feels like an endless loop of fucking shit. 

“You firing me, Frank?” Eddie asks. “Took you longer than expected, actually.”

Eddie’s been doing that a lot lately. The whole sarcasm thing. More than usual. And not just to Frank. He’s even begun to make tiny, biting comments in Buck’s direction. Which is completely unfair of him because all Buck is doing is supporting him. Just… Well, sometimes Eddie doesn’t know what else to say when… When things are brought up. 

Frank smiles patiently. “I think group therapy would benefit you, in addition to our sessions together.”

Eddie blinks. “Twice the amount of therapy? Extra people? I don’t know.”

Frank nods. “Yeah, it’s not most people’s favorite idea at first. But the feedback is usually pretty good.”

“Why would I need a group?” Eddie asks. “These problems… They’re pretty specific to me.”

Though, if Frank can point him in the direction of a support group for people who have encountered eerie clones of their dead spouses, Eddie will shut his damn mouth and get going. If this is a recurring thing for people, that’s just insane. Eddie will gladly join that class action lawsuit against god or the universe or whatever Buck would interpret it as. 

“Not all of what we’ve talked about is specific to you, Eddie,” Frank says. “A lot of people struggle with-”

“But isn’t everything with Chris and Kim and all that the most pressing thing?” Eddie interrupts. “That’s what I need to solve first.”

“It all helps, Eddie. We’ve talked about this. You being in a better, more open and accepting place with yourself? That will help with the rest.”

Eddie groans a little. It all sounds so counterintuitive. Even though Eddie knows he’s probably right. Why should he get to work on accepting and loving himself, when the consequences of his actions are still hurting his son? Keeping him away from home? He shouldn’t get to be happy right now. 

But the thing is, Eddie made a promise. To Buck, first. The night Christopher left. More than that, though, to himself. He’s going to trust the process. Therapy. The whole nine yards. He’s not going to let this destroy him. 

[learnelle]

.

[historias-multorum]

It may be obvious that she was a bit nervous since this was her first time doing such a thing, but she wanted to try anyway. She had thought about it for a while and finally got the nerve to ask if he would be okay with it.

So there she was, on her knees and between Natsuo’s legs as he was sat. Her hands rubbed at his thighs as both a way to give him some affection and compose herself before she trailed one towards his shaft to wrap her slender fingers around the base in an experimental touch. With a gulp, she slowly started to stroke before leaning her head down to tentatively lick along the upper portion of his shaft, watching his face to see what he liked more.

Before long, she put her lips around the head and gave a light suckle, then taking a bit more into her mouth before she had to back up so she wouldn’t overwhelm herself.

@dragvnsovl

Never in his wildest imagine would Natsuo Todoroki be in this situation, and yet here he was. Sure, he's watched a porno or two and he is well aware of sex- but to experience it himself? Now that's a whole new story.

So many emotions running through his mind as Tater touched him. He tried to be subtle about it, but he was moaning. Blushing as she was touching his manhood tenderly and even putting her lips and mouth on him. In the back of his mind, he'd hope she didn't mind how- big he was. At 7 inches fully erect and all.

[oranberrie]

Ah the autistic experience of randomly remembering a situation from your childhood and realizing things

[sungtaro]

oh also for those of u who weighed in on whether to be a lead counselor or to stick w my bestie at camp this year . I took a lot of time to think and I decided to stick w my bestie 🤗

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[hoshigray]

Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”

“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“

“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”

Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.

Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!

Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 

Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 

Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”

The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”

“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”

“You son of a—“

“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”

Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”

Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”

The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.

But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.

The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.

He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”

“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”

“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.

You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.

With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”

He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“

“Alright, round’s over!” 

Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”

“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”

“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.

“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”

You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”

He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 

His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…

You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”

Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”

“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”

“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”

Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.

“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”

“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”

“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  

Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 

Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 

You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”

“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”

“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”

“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 

“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”

“Choke on my dick!”

“You first.”

The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.

As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.

…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[alllovenohate7]

All of these moments

Just might find their way into my dreams tonight

But I know that they'll be gone

When the morning light sings

Or brings new things

For tomorrow night you see

That they'll be gone too

Too many things I have to do

But if all of these dreams might find their way

Into my day to day scene

I'd be under the impression

I was somewhere in between

With only two

Just me and you

Not so many things we got to do

Or places we got to be

We'll sit beneath the mango tree now

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3