#he looks so tired and like he’s regretting his decisions
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Cautious, Alert. He was watching her. She pondered whether there was a countdown going in his mind. What was zero and how far from it were they. How much did her behavior tell him, what did it tell him. Despite her attempts, she knew Carlos could read her better than she could hide it. It usually didn't matter. Didn't mean much. Now, it was important to keep her cards to herself. It didn't seem she had any remaining. Deceiving herself. She knew that to be true. Yet it felt safer that way. Clinging to her idea of hope. What was going through his mind. Regret? Bitterness. Maybe even remorse. The woman he loved, had loved maybe, had betrayed him. He was justified — she wouldn't be the one to tell him so, but his feelings were justified. Whether it was disdain or even worse. She wasn't ready for the reality of his feelings. Even if they were better than she assumed. He would never view her in the same light again. They were still playing a game. If it was chess, there were no clear moves to checkmate. No. She had no more pieces. She wasn't even certain how the board was set. What moves would get her trapped. More so than she already was. It was a losing game. It had been the moment the board was set. Silence beat loudly about them like waves. It was purposeful. Deafening. Drowning. She detested it. It only served him. Carlos was getting exactly what he wanted. Giving exactly what he wanted. Eyes narrowed. The only thing she could read was his coldness. Whether reserved for her or their guest, she couldn't tell. His silence may have been an answer but it was far from the type of answer that she wanted. What she wanted, no, needed? She wasn’t truly sure. Other than wanting this whole thing to end. Erica held Carlos’ gaze, as if it would tell her more. Knowing it was useless anyway. He only let her see what he wanted to. She may not know much but she was no fool. Not completely. Her actions didn’t seem to acknowledge that. That, she could admit. Erica had been moronic. There was only one logical end to her decision and unfortunately now Carlos was showing her that. Was that the point? He had only left her guessing. Nothing she asked was apparently worthy of an answer. Frustrating. Trifling. Understandable.
Focus remained on Carlos. It felt stifling. Waiting to see what he said, did. Whether he would let anything else show. She was tired of it. The cold smiles. The icy gaze. The impenetrable wall he kept even when he was addressing her. The tilt of his head told enough. He was going to start again. A sitting target. No defense, no shield. Yet Carlos wouldn't stop. Was she worth it? Erica cleared her throat. She was appalled. Whether it was Carlos' question or the lack of a decent answer. There was no wining for her. She only held a losing hand. There were no cards left to draw and no way to change her hand. Friends, my ass. This wasn't a conversation her husband and another man should be having, definitely not in front of her. Looking over, pity coated her eyes. There was no way out, no good answer. For any of them. She wanted to close her ears. As if it would wash away the words she had already heard. The disappointment. The pain etched into her heart. Carlos didn't care what she heard, did he? Did he get a kick out of this? Making her feel like a fool. His shots may have been aimed for someone else but they recoiled to hit her as well. Her head shook, "cariño, please. stop." Erica considered pleading. Though the smile on Carlos' face, the button he continued to push told her otherwise. Her eyes squeezed shut once he snapped. If the deal wasn't sealed then, it had to be sealed now. Death was the only answer now. Her eyes remained shut, squeezing tighter as she heard Carlos continue. At his reproach, she became silent. His voice only sending fear through her bones. She was clearly on thin ice. And there was nothing she could tell Carlos to get her off it. He wasn't completely wrong, but he only saw what he wanted to see. Didn't give her space to speak. He didn't even listen. This was all useless.
Erica sighed, meeting his gaze. The cries of the man still echoing in her ears. Did he think she could do anything? How idiotic. Anyone could see she had no power, even less so right now. If she had, they wouldn’t be sitting here anyway. She would have to live with that. Condemning a man to death because her husband was just that type of man. A part of him she had known but never witnessed. Merciless about it as well. Maybe for the better. He had kept her in the dark because she would never view him the same again. How could she? The affection she often read in his tone felt further and further away. A condemnation she had brought upon herself. Clearing her throat, she searched for words. Something. “If we’re planning to sit here in silence can we go home? Or should I call a ride and find somewhere else to go?” Was there still a them? What did that look like. Finding somewhere to stay wouldn't be too hard. Maybe it would be a better option. Hell, Erica was hesitant about even sharing their bed. Assuming he wanted her back in their bed. Nothing about them was normal anymore. She couldn’t even fake normalcy anymore. The fact that Carlos had let her play ‘house’ for so long. Knowing their home was anything but. If he didn’t want her back, there was no argument to be had. She understood, she would accept, and she didn’t know how to fight back. “I don’t know what you want from me,” she admitted, “to cry, get on my knees and beg?” He wanted her to break, right. That was what he had said and she was still holding on to the little bit of pride remaining. So minuscule but held so tightly. If her parents had known raising her so stubbornly would be her downfall then maybe they would’ve corrected her earlier. Too little, too late. She didn’t know how to give it up, whether she even wanted to. There was no point. The man across from her knew exactly what he wanted but she was left floundering in the dark. An apology maybe? Did he want remorse? Would it even matter. She had made a choice. Now her consequences were coming back to fight her. Shoulders slumped ever so slightly, shrinking into herself. “I see how you thought so but I wasn’t... I wasn't choosing him over you. It was never about that." She never had.
Carlos felt an icy ripple course through his veins as Erica’s words and gestures played out before him. They were small things—her flinch, the unintended snort, the tremor in her voice—but to him, they were the language of survival. Carlos had long mastered the art of reading people; it wasn’t intuition—it was necessity. These cracks in her facade, however subtle, were a goldmine of information, each one confirming what he already knew: he was in control, and she was falling apart. But her defiance—oh, her defiance. It intrigued him even as it enraged him. That single, accidental snort, that careless declaration about the secrets he supposedly held, they might as well have been gunshots. She didn’t get it, not truly. Carlos wasn’t delusional enough to believe he held all the secrets. No, it was more sinister than that: he didn’t need to hold every secret to dominate. He just had to make her believe he did. And tonight, she still believed she had something left to protect. That was a mistake. Her words circled his mind, echoing in a way that stirred an uncomfortable itch. She thought she was speaking the truth, but she didn’t understand the depths of his paranoia. Knowing wasn’t enough. Knowing had never been enough. He didn’t just want the truth; he wanted to own it, to strip it bare, to turn it into a weapon he could wield. And Erica, whether she realized it or not, had made herself into a pawn in his game—a pawn he still wasn’t sure whether to destroy or protect. He studied her, leaning back in his chair to mirror her attempt to regain composure. The gesture struck him as almost pathetic. Not because she wasn’t trying—no, Erica had guts, he’d give her that—but because her rebellion was so ill-equipped to match his power. It wasn’t even a contest. Carlos allowed a slow smile to creep across his face, but it didn’t touch his eyes. This was what it felt like to watch someone unravel completely. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d built his empire on the backs of people who had underestimated him, and here Erica was, underestimating the reach of his patience and power. Her disbelief, her accusations, her questions—they were distractions. He saw the way her words were veiled attempts to turn the tables, to make him question himself, to inject doubt into his ironclad sense of control. But Carlos didn’t doubt himself. Not anymore. He couldn’t afford to. Her question hung in the air, laced with bitterness and something else—was it desperation? The point was everything. The point was control. The point was that she understood—truly understood—there were no cards left in her hand to play. He held them all. That faint disbelief in her voice, her attempt to mask it, made his chest tighten, but not with pity. It was something darker, a flicker of twisted satisfaction. She thought she knew him, but all she’d seen was the mask he wore for her. She’d only glimpsed the surface of what he was capable of. Tonight, he would remind her why the world feared him, why loyalty wasn’t an option but a requirement. Still, a small part of him—a part he loathed—wanted to hear her explanation. Not because it would change anything, but because it was her. He wanted to hear her break, to know why she’d risked defying him, to understand what could possibly make her believe she could win against him. He hated that he wanted this. Carlos had built his life around dismissing weakness, and yet, Erica’s defiance felt like a personal affront, a crack in his otherwise impenetrable armor.
And that man across the table? A tool. A pawn. A means to an end. Carlos didn’t care about him, not really. His punishment had already been decided the moment he dared to involve himself with Erica. No, tonight wasn’t about the man; it was about her. It was about showing her that she belonged to him, body and soul, that she couldn’t outrun or outthink him. Carlos let the silence stretch again, his gaze boring into her, dissecting every micro-expression as though it might reveal the one truth she still thought she could keep from him. Carlos leaned back in his chair, the faint creak of leather the only sound in the tense, suffocating silence. His gaze moved from Erica to the man across the table, a predator savoring the fear radiating off its prey. The man couldn’t even look him in the eye. Pathetic. Weak. It was almost insulting that this was the person Erica had chosen. Carlos tilted his head slightly, feigning curiosity as though this was a polite dinner conversation. But the questions forming in his mind were anything but polite. They were deliberate, calculated, and cruel, designed to peel away every layer of the man’s dignity. If Erica thought she could test him—if she thought she could challenge his authority and survive it—then she needed to see what real power looked like. She needed to feel it. He allowed a slow, mocking smile to stretch across his lips, a stark contrast to the cold fire in his eyes. "Tell me something, amigo," he began, his tone almost conversational, as if he were asking about the weather. His fingers tapped lazily against the table, each soft click echoing like a countdown. "Was she worth it?" The man stammered, his words stumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to form a coherent sentence. Carlos didn’t interrupt. He let him squirm, let the silence wrap around him like a noose tightening with every second. When the man finally managed to choke out a response—a weak, trembling denial—Carlos let out a low chuckle, devoid of any real amusement. "Oh, come now," Carlos said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. His voice dropped to a deadly softness, the kind that made every word cut deeper. "Don’t insult me with lies. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Just having a little chat. Let’s start simple." He gestured vaguely toward Erica without looking at her, as though she were merely an accessory to the moment. "What’s her favorite way to be kissed? Hm? Tell me, lover boy." The man’s eyes widened in horror, and Carlos saw the exact moment the realization sank in—that there was no escape, no mercy to be found here. Carlos savored it, letting the silence stretch again, drawing out the tension like a blade against tender skin. "You don’t know?" Carlos pressed, his voice dripping with mock surprise. "That’s disappointing. I thought someone who risked his life for her would at least know something about pleasing her. Or did you only ever get as far as fumbling in the dark?" He chuckled again, a low, menacing sound that sent a shiver through the room. Carlos didn’t give Erica the satisfaction of his attention. No, this was about him and the fool who had dared to touch what was his. He wasn’t just punishing the man—he was making a point, one Erica wouldn’t soon forget. "Let’s try another," Carlos continued, his tone light but his gaze sharp enough to slice through steel. "Did she laugh when you undressed? Or did she fake a smile to spare your feelings?" His smile widened as the man’s face flushed crimson, a mix of shame and fury that only fueled Carlos’s amusement.
"You see," Carlos said, his voice as smooth as velvet but laced with venom, "I’m just trying to understand. What did she see in you, exactly? Was it your charm?" He smirked, his eyes raking over the man with open disdain. "Your ambition? Or was it something simpler? Something... basic?" The man finally snapped, his voice rising in protest, but Carlos silenced him with a single raised hand. The gesture was calm, almost bored, but the authority behind it was absolute. "That’s enough," Carlos said, his tone dropping to a quiet, lethal calm. "You’ve already told me everything I needed to know. You told me the moment you walked in here with your cowardice written all over your face." He turned his gaze back to Erica, finally acknowledging her again. "Do you see now, mi amor?" he asked, his voice soft but dangerous. "Do you see the kind of man you chose over me? A man who can’t even answer simple questions without shaking like a leaf in the wind?" Carlos lifted his hand in a calm, almost dismissive gesture. The bodyguards stationed near the walls responded immediately, their movements swift and precise, like well-trained hounds unleashed. Carlos didn’t need to give verbal instructions. The wave of his hand was enough; it always was. The man’s chair screeched against the floor as he was yanked up, his protests loud and incoherent. He squirmed in their grip, thrashing like a fish caught in a net, but the bodyguards were immovable, their faces blank and unfeeling. "Wait—wait!" the man cried, his voice cracking with panic. "I didn’t mean—please, Mr. Diaz, listen to me!" Carlos took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes finally lifting to watch as the man was dragged toward the back of the restaurant. His gaze was detached, devoid of emotion, as though he were observing an unremarkable transaction. This wasn’t anger, not anymore. It was inevitability. The man’s struggles grew frantic as the bodyguards reached the heavy door that led to the basement. The sound of his shoes scuffing against the tiled floor echoed through the room, mingling with his increasingly desperate pleas. "Erica! Erica, help me! Please!" Carlos’s eyes flicked to Erica then, his expression unreadable.
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When Connor is out of the lineup and now everyone is asking you what the plan is….
#he’s so over it and it’s only been one game 😭#oh Leon#he looks so tired and like he’s regretting his decisions#tired dad wants his children to solve their own problems#Davo needs to come back soon and save him from responsibility#edmonton oilers#leon draisaitl#zach hyman#connor mcdavid
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douwata kareshirt but sleepy post-rendezvous watanuki grabs one of doumekis oversize shirts on the floor and wears it to bed in an act of romantic domesticity only to wake up and groan in disappointment that this is the shirt in question
#my headcanon that all of doumekis tshirts are awful must be inflicted on the general public#like all his other stuff is cool or fancy but his tshirts have the sole objective of 'so whimsical and awful that it makes people mad'#xxxholic#🐣 thinking its a cute kinda sexy split second decision in his tired brain then immediately regretting it LMAOOO#clown on clown romance#he cant catch a break#he starts taking it off in the morning and 🏹 is like 'keep it on it looks...'#and 🐣 hesitates expecting to be called hot or something to make the whole ordeal worth it then#hears 'it looks really funny on you' and immediately baps him over the head with a pillow as revenge#the secret sauce to a good ship is making it better by making it really fucking unserious#they have enough angst let them be ridiculous#this twink cannot catch a break#good#i collect a folder of cursed shirts because its funny to imagine doumeki owning them
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Asking the JJK Men if it's in yet
"Is it in yet?"
feat. Nanami, Toji, TrueForm!Sukuna and Higuruma
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Nanami:
Kento stopped dead in his tracks, his cock only pressed halfway in. Embraced beneath him, cuddlefucking in missionary, you tried to keep a straight face, as if you weren't about to eep! from the delicious stretch of just half in.
Without glasses on, Kento still, somehow, managed to look over his glasses at you. His voice was mild, almost conversational, as he sought clarification.
"Is it...in?"
"...yeah, is it in yet?"
Something prickled over Kento's shoulders. He scoffed, heaving a sigh and bracing himself on his elbows. He unclipped his watch in one deft movement, laying it on the pillow beside your head.
"Ask me again in one minute. Then three. Then five."
You felt a droplet of sweat run down your soul.
"...Kento, I was just fucking--"
"--no, no, I insist. One minute."
"What are you going to--"
Kento slammed his cock into you so hard, you jolted up the bed with a shriek. If his abs hadn't held you in place beneath him, you'd have hit the headboard. Shocked, groaning from the wet slaps of Kento absolutely railing you, bottoming out until you could hardly see, you couldn't help but let out a breathy giggle.
"--c-can't...can't-- haaaaah, Kento!"
Time lost all meaning. Kento braced on his elbows, dragging his cock halfway out again with a grunt, and stopping. He glowered down at you.
"Ask me again."
You whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders. You swallowed, trembling in anticipation.
"Is...is it, uh...in yet--"
Kento slammed into you again, creamy white lube squelching out of you onto the bed as you muffled your cries into the pillow, swearing you could feel him in your ribs.
Kento continued this for three, five, seven, nine, eleven minutes, until you were forced to admit, begrudgingly, that he and his seed were definitely in.
Higuruma:
Hiromi's eyes fluttered open. Having just released a sinful whimper from you sinking down onto his length, his brain suddenly short-circuited in fractious self-doubt and hyper analysis. In the end, nothing he could think took precedence, apart from a dumb:
"I'm-- I'm sorry? Is it...?"
Hiromi grasped your hips, pulling his shirt up and gripping it between his teeth so he could see where you were joined in his lap. He bucked up, just once, pausing for just long enough to shiver and moan at the slick, wet velvet of you. His head tipped back again with a weary sigh.
"You know," Hiromi chastised, grasping your hips to roll you over his cock, his hands strong, confident, "I'm so fucking tired, I'd have believed you. That I wasn't in."
You smirked above him, eliciting hushed whimpers and groans as you started to ride him. Hiromi allowed you to settle into your rhythm, before he berated you again.
"But also," he bickered, "how dare you, you cheeky cow, 'is it in yet', like I don't rail you blind every night with my 'is it in yet'--
You laughed, his chastisement turned punishing as he bounced you on him with glee, comedy turned feral.
"Oooo-ooohhh fuck-- love it when you-- when you think you're being funny-- love it--" Hiromi groaned, his voice muffled, his shirt hem between his teeth again as his eyes fixated on your stretched pussy sliding down his cock. You laughed, whimpering, breathless.
"I--I am funny--"
"--yeah yeah, alright, sweetheart-- keep telling yourself that--"
Toji:
Intending to hold onto your hair just a bit, Toji instead pulled you up fully, from your hands and knees. With your back to his chest, speared upon him, you squealed. You felt the bulbous tip of him bully against your cervix, and squirmed, gasping his name.
"The fuck you mean, 'is it in yet?"?"
You groaned, regretting your decision already. Toji reached up and gently slapped your cheek, until your eyes opened, and he pointed to the mirror in front of you. You could see him smirking over your shoulder.
When he saw your eyes drift to the base of his cock, slick with your arousal, deep inside you, and angled upwards so you could see the bulging underside, he smirked again, twitching his erection once, twice, three times so you could see.
Snapping your moan in half, Toji fucked upwards once, hard.
"Is it in yet?" He mocked, his breaths heavy as he fucked, and you squealed, and he fucked, laughing.
"Is it in yet? Come on baby, tell me. Is it in yet? Is it? Shit, kid. I dunno, I need you to tell me. Is it in yet? Is it in yet?"
If only he'd stop impaling you on him for long enough for you to answer.
True!Form Sukuna:
He laughed. He actually laughed. He only stopped laughing when you, sweating with fearful uncertainty, started laughing too. Then, he grabbed your face, rough in one long-nailed hand.
"What do they teach girls these days?" Sukuna rumbled, tsk-ing, batting your cheek from side to side with his palm and the back of his hand; a cat with a mouse.
"Whatever they teach you," he sighed, with your thighs spread upon his, sat on his throne, "I will offer you the chance to be untaught."
You nodded, panting as he let go of your body, and you choked out and whimpered as you slid further and further down his lower length. You felt the heavy, thickening weight of his upper length, resting against your back.
Sukuna left you like this, hands-free, to be slowly impaled as he watched, almost bored. He seemed to be waiting for something.
"Well, come on then," he drawled, his jaw leaned on one hand, with one finger lazily circling your clit, just to feel your cunt flutter around him, "beg me."
Your brain stuttered, your pussy so stuffed you could hardly think; "Beg--b-beg for...for what...my Lord?"
"Beg me to unteach you whatever drivel it is they taught you, that you should think it funny to ask your master 'is it in yet?'"
You didn't hesitate, babbling, one of his hands circling round to grasp you by the throat as you did. "P-please unteach me, my Lord, I was just being silly, just--just--forgive me--"
Sukuna hummed, his half-smile almost gentle as he began to lift you off him again, enjoying the way your pussy clenched around his lower cock as you choked.
"Lovely manners." He purred. You jolted, gasping as you felt the thick tip of his upper cock begin to squeeze into your ass. You saw stars, blinded by the enormity of him, made dumb by your own stupid attempt at comedy.
"Let's make sure you understand the perils of the situation you chose to place yourself in, hmm?"
#pseudowho#jjk#kento nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#kento nanami x reader#higuruma hiromi#kento nanami x you#nanami fluff#nanami my love#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#hiromi higuruma#jjk higuruma#higuruma#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma smut#higuruma x reader#hiromi higuruma x reader
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“ YOUR BEST EATER ! ” (MHA EDITION)
ꕥ summary: rating how well mha men would eat you out ! (this is canon cause i said so)
ꕥ includes: keigo takami, mirio togata, touya todoroki, shota aizawa, katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari, enji todoroki
ꕥ warnings: dom/sub implications, oral f!recieving, dirty talk, crack ofc this is for fun, slander (sorry lol), black!reader as always, timeskip chargebolt and dynamight
KEIGO TAKAMI - ♾️/10
⊗ he’s a REAL eater.
⊗ you have to cry and beg for him to pop his mouth off you because he has an addiction
⊗ he thinks you taste so good
⊗ there’s not one morning his head doesn’t end up between your thighs
⊗ and at events, he’ll find a way to pull you to the nearest bathroom and get a quick one out because you just looked too good
⊗ he loves having you sit on his face
⊗ “imma eat it. AHHHHH”
⊗ he doesn’t care if you just got off of work or if you’re tired he needs your pussy on his tongue stat.
⊗ he’s such a slut.
“please- ‘s too much~!”
“c‘mon i know you got one more, i got you~”
TOUYA TODOROKI - 3/10
⊗ you thought he was an eater…?
⊗ you’re funny.
⊗ yeah unfortunately mr. long dick over here doesn’t like eating pussy
⊗ his ego is bigger than his dick
⊗ however,
⊗ on the rare occasion that he’s feeling extra nice, he’ll do more than plunge his fingers into you before he makes you take him from the back
“o-oh~..!”
“couldn’t help myself…too fuckin’ wet…”
ENJI TODORKI - 0/10
⊗ like father like son (he’s much worse)
⊗ he’s not particularly a…. giver
⊗ he’s a meanie he’d rather manhandle you instead
⊗ he don’t even like his wife and kids so what makes you think he likes you enough to eat you out
⊗ besides….even if he tried…it wouldn’t be…well…good.
⊗ he’s too rough he might bite your shit i don’t know pookie
⊗ if you beg him enough he’ll do it for like a split second
⊗ you immediately regret your decision
⊗ help him.
“wait- it’s ok it’s o-ok. nevermind…”
“what’s wrong?”
SHOTA AIZAWA - 7/10
⊗ he likes to pretend he doesn’t like giving head
⊗ but you catch him on one of those days….
⊗ he becomes a different man
⊗ and he’s mean with it, too
⊗ your thighs will have bruises from the way he forces your legs open
⊗ he likes eating you out before just because he feels satisfied having you weak before he even fucks you
⊗ he’ll edge you and tease you just to have you begging him to cum
“stay fuckin’ still, or you’re not cummin’. understand?”
MIRIO TOGATA - 10/10
⊗ yes i’m sneaking my man in here. i do not care.
⊗ he’s a certified munch y’all hate to say it
⊗ he gets it from fatgum.
⊗ (i would put him in here but then imma get nasty)
⊗ please just sit on his face and give him three minutes you will be dripping before he even puts it in
⊗ he massages your thighs and kisses your clit ‘cause he really is just so in love with you
⊗ not only will he shove his head between your thighs before he fucks you just to get a quick taste
⊗ he’ll clean you up after he fucks you, tastes himself and you
⊗ he’s a huge giver
⊗ please marry him
“such a pretty pussy, baby…’m gonna clean you right up~”
BAKUGOU KATSUKI - 9/10
⊗ oh give him five minutes
⊗ put him between your legs and he’s done for
⊗ he’s a nasty FREAK and he cannot hide it in this predicament.
⊗ he swears up and down ‘he doesn’t eat pussy’ to all his friends and every girl who brings it up
⊗ but if it’s his baby? someone he’s really into?
⊗ you see a completely different side of him
⊗ and he makes everything so messy
⊗ he’s so focused when he does it and when he looks up at you… you are done for
⊗ he can make you cum quick to get you wet enough to just slip in– then he gets right to business
“kats~…”
“taste so good…so fucking good..”
DENKI KAMINARI - 11/10
⊗ y’all thought i wasn’t gonna put him here?
⊗ he refers to himself as an eater
⊗ he has no shame
⊗ he’ll eat it in the morning, for lunch, after dinner, for dessert- he really doesn’t care
⊗ he definitely can get off just from giving you head
⊗ the feeling of you dripping down his chin and the sound of your moans is enough to get him up
⊗ you will be orgasming more than once
⊗ and he can go on for hours if he really wanted to
“my messy baby…you sound so pretty~
©𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑭
#bakugou x black reader#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki x black reader#shota aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa x black reader#shouta aizawa x reader#dabi x reader#todoroki x black reader#dabi x black reader#togata mirio#mirio x reader#mirio x black reader#hawks x black!reader#keigo takami#keigo x reader#hawks x reader#hawks smut#bnha keigo#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami x black reader#touya todoroki#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x black reader#hawks x black reader smut#aizawa x black reader smut#denki kaminari x reader#denki kaminari#denki x black reader#denki smut
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Period Trouble
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?
Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it
You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.
You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body.
There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.
You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”
You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”
Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.
Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”
The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.
Oh how you regretted that decision now.
“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”
Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.
“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.
She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”
Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.
You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”
When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”
She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”
You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”
Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”
You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.
You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.
He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.
“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.
Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”
It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”
He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”
You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.
Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury.
You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”
You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”
You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not-”
“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”
You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”
He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.
Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”
You scowled at him. “Says who?”
He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”
You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.
“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.
Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.
As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.
Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.
You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.
When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.
“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.
Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.
Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.
“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”
You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”
He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”
Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist.
Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.
An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.
“Mrs May?” you asked.
The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”
You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.
“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?
Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones.
The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”
There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.
The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”
Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.
You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.
You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”
You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”
Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”
“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”
Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”
“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”
Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”
Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”
Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”
You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”
“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”
The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.
“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.
Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”
You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.
Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.
As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”
You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.
You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.
#wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#xmen#x-men#xmen movie#xmen movies#x men movies#marvel#hugh jackman#james logan howlett#james howlett#x men#xavier#charles xavier
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Hide it - Matt Sturniolo
Summary: in which Matt hides his feelings for you, but eventually can’t take it anymore.
Warnings: fluff, cursing,
A/N:
Matt couldn’t hide it any longer. He couldn’t hide his love for you. His feelings were hard to control when you were around. It was sickening. He didn’t say anything about it, because he didn’t want to hurt you or ruin the friendship you guys have. It was too important for, but he also couldn’t stuff his feelings away any longer. He was in love with you and that was a problem.
Every time you hang out with Nick Matt’s in the room. He’s always staring at you, but when you turn to look at him he quickly turns away. You didn’t think much of it, until things changed. Matt started acting weird. He was always stuttering around you and didn’t have proper conversations with you.
You had come to the triplets’ house to make some pictures with Nick. The house was mostly quiet, only soft sounds were heard from Matt’s room. He was most likely playing fortnight. You sat down on the couch, waiting for Nick to return from his room.
“Oh hey y/n..” you suddenly hear a voice say. You look at the figure, it’s Matt. A small smile forms on your face as you wave at him. He freezes at your smile, regretting his decision of coming out of his room. He was already getting nervous at the fact of his crush being infront of him. Suddenly a wave of confidence washes over him. It was now or never. “Y/N i can’t do this anymore.” He says, swallowing.
“Can’t do what?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.
“I-“ he runs his hand through his hair. There’s a moment of silence. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t just say ‘hey im in love with you! Can we make out?’ can he? Another deep breath leaves his mouth as he tries to get himself together. “Fucking hell..” He holds his breath as he looks into your eyes to see any kind of reaction. “Can’t you see how obsessed i am with you?” A surprised sound leaves your mouth. You don’t say anything for a while, surprised by his confession.
“Jesus Y/N, say something please.” He begs. His nervousness gets worse within seconds. Did you hate him now? “I- you like me?” You ask. Realization hits you hard. He actually likes you. Your mind goes blank at the thought, all your thoughts vanishing. He slides both his hands into his pockets, hiding how badly he’s sweating.
“Yes Y/N and im tired of you not noticing! I tried everything to make you look at me, yet it’s not working.” He groans mentally, blaming himself for raising his voice at you. “Sorry… i-“ he starts, but gets cut off when you slam your lips against his. This kiss was everything he needed. Everything he needed to know you had the same feeling about him and it was amazing. It wasn’t passionate, just full of love and desperation.
Your hands slide into his hair, gently pulling at it to get closer. His hands go down your sides, gripping you tightly. You slowly start backing up into a wall, which he does too. Then he pulls back to get some air. You look up into his blue eyes, smiling. He smiles back almost immediately, wiping your hair out of your face. “That was..” he chuckles, still a hit breathless. “So fuckin’ amazing.”
Suddenly you hear a laugh behind you. You turn around to see Nick standing there. He had watched the whole scene and was laughing by it. Matt rolls his eyes, before looking away. “Took you long enough, kid. Will you stop bothering me now you’ve kissed the girl?” Nick smiles, before looking at you. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you. Seriously. It was so tiring.”
A small smile forms on your face. You look at Matt who’s now filled up with embarrassment. “I’ll leave you guys alone. Let’s do the pictures another time, alright?” Nick suggests. You nod, knowing you need time to let this sink in and spend some time with Matt.
This was gonna be great.
no nut november fic 3! I hope yall like this💞 (also i wont be posting as much since i need to learn for assignments and stuff</3)
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#fluff#no nut november#nnn
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hi could i request something for zoro law shanks and mihawk to them harming their s/o from an enemies devil fruit power like they got possessed/controlled and when the sitstuoon was handled they gain consciousness and realize what they’d done? thank you have a lovely day !!! i love your writing 🫶
DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit
WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort
CHARACTERS: Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Luffy, Ace, Sabo , Crocodile, Kid
WORDS: 2,782
A/N: haven't done some angst in a while so heres some. hopefully you liked what I came up with for this request.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
———————
ZORO
The last thing Zoro remembered was his opponent managing to get within touching distance, a stupid move he’d thought but then they dropped their weapon to slam their hand against his chest. It felt like he was drifting asleep, his limbs were becoming heavier and his vision with blurring and darkening. Before all his consciousness slipped away the words of his opponent echoed in his head. “Find your Captain and kill him.” He should have laughed at that ridiculous order, should have told them they’d regret the words from even passing their lips. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was only darkness and the absent feeling of his fingers tightening around the hilts of his swords, ready to take up the hunt.
He didn’t know how long had passed, but slowly the haziness began to lift and Zoro began to process his surroundings. If he felt like he was waking, why didn’t he feel rested? Why did he feel sore and tired. His fingers flexed and he frowned to only feel one sword in his hand. Zoro blinked and looked around in confusion. He no longer stood in the room he had been in and his opponent was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was now standing at the top of a staircase, his gaze drifted to the bottom of the steps and his heart stopped in terror to see your limp form lying there with his sword pierced through your stomach.
It was all a blur after that, racing down the steps and yelling as loud as he could for Chopper. Zoro remembered crouching near your form with hands shaking for the first time in a long while. What was he to do? What had he done? Was this how he’d lose you? He felt sick. This couldn’t be happening.
The next thing he knew he was on the ship, a day later and sitting at your bedside wishing for you to open your eyes. He glared at his hands as he replayed everything. Being told that he was like a man possessed, set on finding Luffy to kill him. How you intercepted him and drew his attention long enough to fight while the others tried to find a way to snap him out of whatever power was controlling him. They’d been just a little too late it seemed. It sickened Zoro to see the bandages around your form, knowing the damage that lay beneath them. If it hadn’t been for your own skills he would have certainly killed you.
“Stop…” Zoro’s head snapped up to see you weakly turning your head to stare at him. The pain was evident in your eyes but he was shocked to see you weren’t looking at him with the hate he deserved. Sluggishly you placed your hand on his. “Stop beating yourself up for this…it’s not your fault.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Zoro growled getting to his feet but he couldn’t bring himself to step away from the bed or remove himself from your touch. “Those wounds are my doing. I nearly lost you.”
“But you didn’t. I stopped Sanji from being the one to fight you. It was my decision and I held my own against you. You only won because I didn’t know the stairs were behind me.”
Zoro knew what you were doing. If he voiced any pity for you and your injuries or blamed himself it would be an insult to you as a fighter. With a long sigh he sat down again and curled his fingers to tightly squeeze your hand. Leaning down he pressed a long kiss against your hand, his good eye slipping closed when your free hand settled on his head. Zoro found it comforting and shocking that even with what you’d endured because of him, there was no hesitancy in your actions. Even with the pain you were in, keeping him calm and reassured came to you so naturally. “I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving that I’m a man worthy of your love.” He vowed vehemently against your skin.
LAW
As a doctor Law was very good at severing emotion from his work especially when it came to performing surgery that one moment of hesitation could mean certain death. This however was something he didn’t think he’d ever have to do. His hands shook as he tried to force his mind to focus and separate his feelings but it was impossible. It was you, heavily injured and slipping closer and closer to the brink where not even he could save you. He knew what needed to be done but he couldn’t shake the feeling that his hands were tainted, that he shouldn’t have the right to touch you ever again. After all it was his fault you were in this state.
He’d gotten cocky when he was fighting a rival group of pirates and in that moment one had gotten the better of him and used that weakness to retreat, leaving Law to turn on his crew. He saw those closest to him as frightening enemies and he attacked with the intent to kill which was evident by the injuries he’d given you. Had you been anyone else, if you hadn’t been as strong as you were the attacks would have killed you. Law couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. For now he had to keep every ounce of his mind on you because he would not lose you, he couldn’t.
When you woke, the pain and heaviness on your body was unlike anything you’d felt before. More importantly you felt fear. You were alive and as you looked around the room you saw that you were alone. You knew how serious your injuries were and if you were still breathing and Law wasn’t with you, had he don’t the unthinkable? Had he used his ultimate ability of his Devil Fruit to grant you life while extinguishing his? Just as you were about to get out of bed and find someone the door opened and relief flooded you to see Law enter.
Now knowing you didn’t need to worry you sank back against the pillows and let out a small breath only to groan when the action caused pain to flare in your body. Immediately Law was at your bedside and at first you were going to smile but it faltered when you saw the coldness in his eyes as he checked you over. Doing only what was needed of his as your doctor and nothing more. Your eyes zeroed in on the surgical gloves he was wearing. When you opened your mouth to speak, he got in there first, cutting off your attempt. “Save your energy, you’ve only just woken up. Now that your condition is stable, I’ll let one of the others take over for your general care.”
“I refuse their care.” You answered immediately, you might have almost died but that wasn’t going to kill your stubbornness. When Law looked up to glare at you, you smirked in satisfaction to see his ‘heartless and distant’ facade had slipped momentarily. “I only want you or no-one at all.”
“No you don’t.” This time Law’s voice was hollow, the shame of what had happened finally coming to the surface.
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Your tone softened but the force of it was still there. You needed to reassure him that you didn’t hold him accountable for when he was under another’s control. Reaching forward you took his hands into yours and pulled off the gloves, smiling to finally see his tattooed hands exposed. “There that’s better.”
“What I did-” Law began to protest but stopped when you lifted his hands to lightly press a kiss against his knuckles. How could you show such adoration to his tainted hands?
“You saved my life.” Your answer was simple but clear that you would speak no more about it. “Come and lie beside me, you know I can’t sleep without you.” Law gave a small, shaky smile and settled down beside you with the utmost care so that his actions caused you no discomfort whatsoever.
SHANKS
“You really don’t remember me?” The barmaid pouted playfully at Shanks as she set his drink in front of him. He kept his expression its usual one of friendliness and gave a small shrug to the woman and shook his head. He was an explorer and adventurer, he’d visited countless islands and met many many people. To remember every single person was practically impossible, even for him. “Aw you’re going to make me cry.” The woman was joking of course and for Shanks it was a relief that his lack of memory didn’t cause her any genuine upset. Quickly his gaze flickered across the crowded bar to meet your stare.
You only grinned in amusement at the attention he was getting. He was a handsome man and it was a daily occurrence that people would throw themselves at him but the outcome was always the same, he’d let them down gently and it was you he’d share his bed with. Still though outside of the long term members, not everyone in the crew knew about the two of you and you were both content with that. “Can I refresh your memory?” Shanks blinked and watched the barmaid slide into the open seat beside him. “I think once I tell you, your life will change completely.”
Shanks had to admit, that was an interesting opening line and he wasn’t really one to back down from a statement such as this one. So he smiled and gestured for the woman to continue. The barmaid’s eyes lit in excitement and she leant forward, her hand settling against his wrist and the second her hand made contact, Shank’s body became rigid as he peered into the woman’s eyes. “Three years ago you killed the love of my life. Now I’m going to teach you the pain of such a loss. Kill your lover or if you don’t have one then the member of your crew you care for the most will do.” Simultaneously the woman stood and left the table the same time that Shanks’ gaze locked onto your form again.
When Shanks finally came to his senses, the crew were back on the open seas all of them knowing that their Captain had been under the influence of a Devil Fruit. As the last thing he remembered came to his mind, panic set in and he hurried to find you, fearing that whoever that barmaid truly was had succeeded in making him do the one thing that he’d sworn he’d never do; cause you any sort of harm. Finally he came to a stop in the doorway of the medical room. His heart sank to see you lying in the bed, bandages visible and he dreaded to think what lay beneath them and your clothes. Worst of all was the thick band of bruises around your throat. While he felt sickened at what he saw, he could only find some small sense of comfort that he hadn’t taken his sword with him to the tavern that night otherwise he might have truly killed you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Hongo told him softly before leaving and closing the door behind him. Alone, Shanks approached your bedside.
“Oh, love what did I do to you?” Shanks sighed tiredly and heavily, flinching when your eyes opened and you looked at him calmly.
“Not…you.” You managed out, your usual cheerful and soothing voice came out as a painful rasp. Shanks sighed, of course you wouldn’t blame him. It was the woman and her unnerving ability that did this.
“I was careless though.” Shanks told you, becoming deadly serious which was a rarity. “That’s not going to happen ever again. We’re going to track that woman down and show her and the world what happens when they dare to target the one I love.”
MIHAWK
You knew Mihawk was a force to be reckoned with, the very first time you’d met your now lover had been an intense fight so you had firsthand experience at how formidable an opponent he could be. However after all those years you’d never expected to be pursued by him so seriously again and it didn’t seem like seducing him or appealing to his better judgement would work in this occasion. You’d both suspected that a few new recruits to Cross Guild were actually spies and had been proven right when you’d confronted them. Together you and Mihawk had taken down most of them but one managed to escape by using their Devil Fruit on Mihawk who was closest. Simply telling him “I’m not your enemy, they are.” While pointing straight at you was enough to make the swordsman set his sights on you.
While you were strong you knew you had no way of taking him on in this intensely determined state. After all you’d seen this man slice a ship in half from a measurable distance away, you weren’t going to risk getting too close. Your only tactic was to keep your distance, block and defend if possible and hope there was a time limit to this annoyance of an ability.
As you ran down the street you looked back to see Mihawk was still hot on your heels but it was a relief to see he wasn’t targeting anyone else. The last thing you wanted was for your lover to snap out of this state and realise he’d killed anyone who was an innocent bystander to it all. At least if you got hurt you had enough strength of will to endure it. You felt something change in the air and you turned sharply to see Mihawk reeling back to launch an attack and you recognised that stance all too well. You swore at the position you’d found yourself to be in. To lessen the force you had no choice but to throw an attack of your own and brace yourself.
Mihawk had never felt shame as a swordsman, not until he was finally in control of his body again to see the destruction of the surroundings caused by his attack clashing with yours. When he saw you lying bloodied amongst the debris of what was once a building he felt like never lifting his blade again. Hurrying to your side he felt only some consolation to see your chest slowly rising and hear your faint heartbeat. Taking you carefully into his arms he set for Cross Guild’s base and was for once glad of the amount of money Crocodile put into hiring the best doctors for the group. However the second he had you handed over to the medical team, he retreated to his room. It was because of him you’d been brought close to death, to sit by your bedside seemed like he was making it about him when you were to be the priority. Besides he wasn’t a healer, he would have just gotten in the way.
When you’d finally woke and asked for him, the task of refusing to visit fell to Buggy as messenger. You rolled your eyes, you’d expected no less from your lover. He might have seemed like a mystery to many, but to you he was an open book. So you decided to sluggishly pulled yourself out of your bed and set about continuing your work. By the time you made it to your room and looking through bounties Mihawk appeared, angered that you were up and out of bed.
“Are you trying to reopen your wounds?” he snapped.
“Don’t worry yourself about it.” You replied, forcing your voice to sound light and unbothered but the strain of moving so soon was taking its toll. “A building fell on me, no big deal.” You shrugged and regretted it, letting out a gasp of pain.
“It very much is a big deal.” Mihawk spoke through gritted teeth as he took a few steps closer, while you continued to look through the papers in front of you. “Please go back to bed.”
“Only if you stop blaming yourself and stay with me when I ask to see you.” Finally you looked up to Mihawk and smirked to see he was finally in touching distance. You knew your actions were drastic but you had to be sometimes to snap him out of his worries. Mihawk let out a long sigh and gently took you into his arms, relishing the simple feeling. He would never risk losing you again, even if he had to destroy all of the Marines to make sure you stayed safe.
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece x you#zoro roronoa x you#law x you#shanks x you#mihawk x you#one piece x reader#one piece scenario#one piece fanfiction#roronoa zoro#trafalgar law#hawkeye mihawk#dracule mihawk#red haired shanks#zoro roronoa x reader#shanks#akagami no shanks#one piece fic#red hair shanks#mihawk x reader#one piece mihawk#op mihawk#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#trafalgar law x you#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#one piece law#trafalgardwaterlaw
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Want You Back
If you’d ask Wonwoo if he regrets divorcing his ex wife, he’d normally say no. They’re on good terms and make a great team co-parenting. But there are little things that make him miss what it was like back then.
Pairing: Wonwoo x female reader
Genres: mostly angst, a little fluff, a little smut, exes to lovers, second chance
Word count: 7k
TW/CW: MDNI, contains smut with no mention of protection. Discussion of unplanned pregnancy, birth complications, postpartum depression, and divorce. I tried to handle these topics delicately, but if they’re sensitive for you, maybe skip this one.
A/N: Wonwoo is so girl dad coded.
On Saturday morning, Wonwoo barely has time to knock on the door before it's flying open and a little body is flinging to his legs. Jieun is five and insists she’s not a baby anymore, but he still leans down and picks her up. She’s got pink, glittery ribbons in her hair and even a little bit of glittery makeup on her eyes and it makes Wonwoo smile. “Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing her cheek. “Been into Eomma’s makeup?”
She’s squirming out of his arms as soon as the door is closed behind him. “She did it for me! It’s for our daddy daughter day!”
“Well, I love it,” he says gently. “What did you want to get into?”
Jieun is thinking seriously. He’s seen that face before, but usually not on her. He’s about to get hit with a big ask. “I can’t pick between ice cream or boba. Or the park or the museum.”
Okay. Not a huge ask. Wonwoo shrugs. “Why not all of it?” This elates Jieun and she’s sprinting for the door. A couple tongue click make her halt when her hand hits the door knob.
“Shoes and coat, baby. It’s cold out.”
Wonwoo faces his ex wife. Y/N is dressed in comfy clothes for a day at home. Despite the light scolding, she looks entertained by Jieun’s excitement. Y/N smiles at Wonwoo. “She’s been up since 5am, yapping about the day with you.”
Her words aren’t spiteful at all, but sometimes he wishes it was. Maybe he’d know what to do with it then. Wonwoo slaps on a smile to hide his uncertainty. “So that means you’ve been up since 5am,” he says simply.
Y/N rolls her eyes. “The princess wanted her hair and makeup done.”
“She comes by it naturally,” Wonwoo teases. Y/N has stepped closer to take a pair of sandals from Jieun and replace it with sneakers, but on the way, she shoves at Wonwoo playfully. He can’t help but laugh because he barely rocks on his feet at the force.
Once Jieun’s coat and shoes are in place and she’s been smothered in kisses, Y/N steps back. Wonwoo waits for the typical warning. “Be careful, drive safely, and don’t let her have too much sugar or else none of us will be sleeping tonight. You’re included in that. Call me if you need me.”
Wonwoo nods lightly. He’s never been offended by these reminders because he’s aware some men in his position might be reckless (and that might be the entire reason they’re in his position in the first place). Y/N’s warnings don’t come from a place of lack of trust, but rather overwhelming concern for Jieun. “I think I got it, but you know you’re my first call. Relax today, okay? You’ve had a long week.” Jieun is tired of their chatting, and tugs hard on his hand towards the door. Wonwoo loads Jieun into the car and then glances back and waves to Y/N one more time before he gets into the car himself.
~
It was over before it really began. They met at a bookstore approximately seven years ago. Wonwoo was debating on picking up the latest in a series he’d kept up with for years but had kind of fallen off the wagon for, and had even been flipping through the book to help make the decision when he heard a curse from the end of the aisle. He blinked repeatedly because it was clear the curse was directed at him and she was pretty. Really pretty. Y/N had frowned as she approached. “You wouldn’t happen to be buying that, would you? I think it’s the last in stock and I can’t find it anywhere else.” Wonwoo had made his decision pretty quickly after that, handing the book over to her, but not before starting a conversation.
They’d hit it off quickly. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to ever be described as warm, at least not to someone that didn’t know him well. But Y/N was very warm and it did something to him. He laughed and smiled more. He was more emotional. He grew an appreciation for things he’d never cared much for, if only because he liked seeing her happy.
And then came the surprise. Within a year of dating, they were pregnant. They were in agreement to keep the child, but they had a hard time agreeing on what things would like in this new life they were catapulting towards. They felt pressured to get married and it only seemed like a reasonable choice at the time. It was a small wedding, if only because Y/N had wanted to do it fast before she started showing much, afraid of the reactions that they might get if she was farther along in a wedding dress. They bought a small house and moved in together.
The last trimester of pregnancy was Y/N’s personal hell. She was at a high risk for birth complications and no amount of bed rest made her feel better, mentally, physically, or emotionally. Wonwoo did the best he could to comfort her but he felt helpless. And then the birth… It was traumatic and Wonwoo had been asked at one point to make some hard decisions. Ultimately, none of that had mattered because both mother and child recovered quickly after a couple weeks in the hospital.
But that experience had changed him and he didn’t know how to articulate it. Still didn’t five years later, really. So he was there, but not really. He got up to change the diapers and make the bottles in the middle of the night, but there was an insurmountable distance between him and Y/N. Y/N had been struggling with postpartum depression and was like a zombie most days because of the medications she was on. When Y/N had candidly asked him late one night if he was happy, he’d been honest and said no.
He didn’t fight her on it when divorce papers were placed in front of him later that year. Jieun wasn’t even a year old yet. It was a peaceful separation because they really felt no bitterness towards each other and wanted to keep it that way for their daughter. Wonwoo eventually moved out to an apartment nearby, but he was present at the home they once shared at least a few times a week. He and Y/N split daycare runs and now elementary school runs. If one parent couldn’t take time off with a sick JIeun, the other would work it out. Somehow they made a better team when they didn’t have to think about what they were to each other. Their connection was Jieun and Wonwoo was fine with that. Most days, anyway.
~
On Sunday morning, Wonwoo knocks on the door. It’s Y/N that opens it this time and she’s already scolding him to just let himself in because he has a key for a reason, but he shoves an iced coffee in her face. She moves out of the way, taking a sip of it. He can tell she’s judging it. “I know your coffee order, Y/N. I made sure they got it right,” Wonwoo huffs, lugging in a bag of dirty laundry. He hates using the shared laundry room in the dingy basement of his apartment complex and Y/N had insisted he just bring it over here for years. Today he’s taking her up on that offer because the machine here seems to eat fewer socks. The coffee is a bribe in case she’s suddenly changed her mind. Regardless, he starts a load before she can think to argue.
Y/N slides him a plate of pancakes when he sits at the kitchen island. “Thanks,” he said simply. “Any plans today?”
Y/N sighs. “I have to go get my car serviced. Check engine light came on a couple days ago and I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. I guess it’s good you’ll be here with Jieun?”
Wonwoo doesn’t glance up at her as he eats. “Leave me your keys. I’ll do it today. But next time, just let me know. We could trade cars for the day while I take it in.”
“Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that,” Y/N insists, frowning at him. She hates to inconvenience him, always has. It drove him up the wall when they were together and it still does from time to time, because she’s never once been an inconvenience.
He stares at her for a few beats. “I’ll just take your keys, Y/N. I don’t want you or my child in a car that might give you problems.”
When he’s putting his plate in the dishwasher, a keyring slides across the counter in front of his face. “Tell me how much it is and I’ll pay you back.” He knows she only gave in because he mentioned Jieun. He won’t be telling her how much it is and he hopes she forgets.
~
It’s Wednesday and it was Wonwoo’s turn to pick up Jieun from school. Y/N is flying down the hall and to the front door and Wonwoo thinks it’s to scoop up Jieun - and it is, at first. When Jieun whines and squirms away from her, Y/N moves onto Wonwoo, gripping his elbows excitedly. “It’s here!” Wonwoo can’t help but raise an eyebrow and smile. The ‘it’ in this situation could be so many things. A cute magnet for the fridge. A new keyboard for her desk. A new blanket with some anime character printed on it. It takes so little to excite Y/N and it’s something that Wonwoo’s always loved.
He lets her lead him to the dining table where she must have been working today. Her laptop is set up alongside multiple notebooks and a box. She whips something out of the box and puts it two inches from his face. Once he can finally see it, he gleams. “The advanced copies are here?” Y/N is a writer and has published a few works, but this one has been a labor of love that Y/N had asked him to beta read last year before it got sent to her publisher. He thinks she’d be his favorite author even without their previous relationship or shared child.
Y/N is grinning widely. “Yep. Open it!”
Wonwoo gives her a look before flipping a few pages. He knows what’s coming because she’s done it for each printed work so far. The title page is always left blank save for the printed text, because she prefers to sign the dedication page for his copies. Wonwoo’s eyes water a bit behind his glasses because he’s mentioned in this one too, just like the last three, along with a kind handwritten message. He can’t spend too much time looking at it now in front of her but he will later. He closes it and admires the cover. “This is great, Y/N. I’m still buying a copy though.”
Y/N gasps. “Why? You’ve already read it. And you always get the first advanced copy.”
Wonwoo shakes his head in entertainment. “Y/N, I preordered it weeks ago. Another copy is coming either way.”
Y/N huffs. “Wonwoo, what you already do is enough. You don’t have to do that.”
This is an old fight, one that’s come up every time she’s published something since the divorce. She thinks he still purchases her books because he wants to financially support her in anyway he can. It’s never been about that truly because that’s just a given. He’s just proud of her work and wants tangible reminders of it. Besides, he wants to say none of it is nearly enough. Guilt has been gnawing at him for years that he doesn’t do enough for her and maybe never did. Jieun is sprinting back into the room with a binder and pencil. “Appa, can you help me with my homework?” They drop the argument.
~
It’s Friday and Wonwoo lets himself into the house, apologizing profusely. He got caught up in something at work and it had almost slipped his mind that he had agreed to keep Jieun for the evening while Y/N went out. However, his apology falls on deaf ears because no one is in the living room, or even on the first floor. “Where are you guys?” He yells at the foot of the stairs. ‘Bedroom’ is shouted back, so that’s where he goes.
He tries not to come in here if he can help it. It doesn’t feel like its his space anymore because it’s not. So he hovers in the doorway of their once shared bedroom and smiles at the sight. Y/N is sitting with her back to the door, but Wonwoo can see that Jieun is the picture of concentration as she puts some blush on Y/N. It draws him into the room further than he normally would dare to go. “What’s happening here?”
Jieun narrows her eyes at him like he’s blowing her careful concentration. “I’m doing Eomma’s makeup for her date.”
Y/N’s tone is admonishing, as if they’ve already had this discussion. “Ji, it’s not a date. I told you, we’re just getting some dinner as friends.” Her explanation doesn’t matter because Wonwoo refuses to acknowledge how his heart plummeted. It’s been four years. It’s a totally reasonable time to start dating again.
Jieun doesn’t care for the explanation either, because she’s done with Y/N’s makeup, prancing out of the room. Y/N looks a little embarrassed when she stands up and Wonwoo bites back a laugh. “That bad, huh?”
“It’s… bright,” he says gently. Y/N huffs, picking up the makeup bag and going into the bathroom. Wonwoo trails her. He feels like he has to say something. He supports Y/N. He always has. He’s happy for her, whatever she chooses. He’s determined to be. “So, a date, huh?”
Y/N’s embarrassed smile sinks a bit in the mirror as she tries to tame the artificial pink on her cheeks. “Not a date… But he’s nice. We met him in the park the other day. Jieun really enjoyed playing with his dog, so we got to chatting.”
“And his name is?” Wonwoo teases, though it kind of burns his tongue.
“Seungcheol. It really is just as friends. It’s what I insisted on,” Y/N presses and it makes Wonwoo shake his head.
“But you don’t have to. If you want to go on a date with him, you should.”
They’re staring at each other intensely. He doesn’t understand her. She’s the one that got a lawyer first and started divorce proceedings. So when she frowns and asks, “And you’d be okay with that?” He isn’t sure how to respond. He doesn’t know what kind of answer she’s looking for. He settles for, “If you’d be happy, then yes,” but it feels unsatisfactory for so many reasons.
Y/N looks like she wants to say something, but Jieun is yelling about someone being at the door and that she’s not supposed to open it for strangers. Y/N curses, patting her cheeks in the mirror one more time before grabbing her sweater and rushing down the stairs. She doesn’t thank him anymore for taking care of Jieun when she has something to do, mostly because it always leads to an ‘equal parent’ conversation. Another old fight. Wonwoo stays in the kitchen as to not have to face Seungcheol picking her up. He simply yells bye from there and sighs deeply when he hears the door close behind them.
~
It’s two weeks later on a Saturday. Wonwoo is out with Mingyu for lunch. He’s checked pretty far out of the conversation because he’s made the mistake of mentioning Y/N’s non-date. Mingyu offers to set him up with a friend of his. He promises she’s sweet and funny and reads. When Wonwoo doesn’t react to these promises, it becomes a lecture about moving on and being happy. Wonwoo insists that he is happy, but it falls on deaf ears.
His phone buzzes violently on the table and he holds up a finger to Mingyu with an apology. “Hey Y/N.” He pointedly ignores Mingyu’s eyes narrowing.
“Appa?” Jieun asks.
Wonwoo frowns. She’s not using an excited ‘steal mom’s phone to call dad and ramble about what happened in the park today’ tone. She sounds so serious that it makes Wonwoo’s gut twist. “Ji, honey. Everything okay?” He tries to keep the tone light, so she’s not afraid to answer. She might clam up if he shows his anxiety and he’s determined to be a person she can go to for help.
“Something’s wrong with Eomma.” Wonwoo’s already standing up to put on his coat.
“Hold on, baby.” Wonwoo gives a short excuse to Mingyu, who despite his mixed feelings about Y/N does seem concerned. Enough to offer to go with him to help anyway. While Mingyu goes to pay the bill, Wonwoo steps outside. “Tell me about it. What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks gently.
“I don’t know,” Jieun says worriedly. “She says she doesn’t feel good. I don’t know what to and she won’t tell me.”
Wonwoo all but busts into the house with Mingyu on his tail. Y/N is in the downstairs bathroom vomiting and Jieun is doing her best to comfort her, but she looks incredibly relieved when Wonwoo enters the room. Gently, he guides her to Mingyu and takes her spot. Y/N must be able to tell it’s no longer Jieun rubbing her back and holding her hair after the door closes because she starts crying. She’s always hated being sick, but she hates making Jieun worry more and she was holding it back while Jieun was in the room. Wonwoo knows because he feels the same.
When she sits back with his help, he doesn’t really think much of her leaning into him. His arm is already around her anyway. “Been a while since we’ve been here, huh?” He teases if only to lighten the mood and get her to stop crying because it’s painful to see. She elbows him weakly. “What was that about?”
“Migraine. I woke up with it. You know how it goes when it gets bad.”
He does. Between the horrible morning sickness with Jieun and the migraines she suffered from anyway, they’d found themselves just like this on many occasions in this very bathroom floor.
“Thanks for coming.”
Mindlessly, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “All you or Jieun have to do is call.”
~
It’s Christmas Eve and Wonwoo has just put Jieun to bed. Y/N says she has a long night ahead of her wrapping presents for Jieun. Wonwoo considers leaving because there are just some things that he doesn’t want to push. This feels too ‘Mom and Dad are together’ of them, even if Jieun isn’t even awake to see it. They’re still a team, but they rarely work on anything together. They tend to split the jobs between them instead.
Still, the mountain of boxes in the bedroom floor makes him second guess leaving. He leans against the door frame and watches Y/N sort through the sea of boxes. “Did we go a little overboard this year?” He jokes. Y/N gives him a sheepish smile.
“What can I say? She’s at that age where she can tell us what she wants, and we’re both total suckers.”
She’s right. All Jieun has to do is bat her big eyes and pout up at either one of them. A good, “Appa, please,” usually does the trick even he was trying to be strong.
“Do you need some help?” Wonwoo finds himself asking. He’s not a great gift wrapper, but he can hand her boxes and tape. And it feels totally unfair to leave her with all of this when he’s contributed half of these boxes to the pile.
Y/N smiles and shakes her head. “No, you should go get some rest. You said you’re visiting your family tomorrow, right?”
The question burns and he knows she doesn’t mean it like that. She doesn’t have family around so it would just be her and Jieun tomorrow morning. Wonwoo said he’d visit family, yes. But he finds himself biting the inside of his cheek. “You two are my family too.”
Y/N releases the box and frowns at him. “Wonwoo, I promise I didn’t mean it like that. You’re welcome here anytime, literally. But you see us all the time and you don’t get to see anyone else that often.”
“And if I want to bail on them and help you wrap presents instead? And watch Jieun open them in the morning?”
Y/N gives him a long look, before finally picking up the tape dispenser and holding it out to him. “Then come on.”
~
Much later, Wonwoo finds himself somewhere he hasn’t been in four years. Y/N had insisted it was too cold to sleep downstairs on the couch. “It’s not like you haven’t slept in this bed together before.” She means it as a joke but his mind races when she shoves some of his old clothes into his hand.
It must be weird for her too, because she’s still awake. He’s about to excuse himself and find a couple blankets to take downstairs when she speaks up. “I’m sorry for how that sounded earlier. You are my family. I know we’re… complicated sometimes. But that doesn’t change anything.”
Wonwoo glances at her. He hasn’t seen her like this in a long time, lying next to him with messy hair, and it gives him a rush of emotions that he has to beat down. “I know. I know we’re complicated sometimes, but I still love you and Jieun more than anyone else in the world. Of course, I’d rather be here.”
Y/N chuckles. It sounds a little watery and he’s not ready to see her cry. “We love you too. You’re the greatest dad and there have been so many times I wish things were different for us. For Jieun.”
Wonwoo rolls to face her. “Do you regret it?” He’s afraid of the answer.
“I don’t know? Neither of us were happy. I’d hate to think that we might still be like that if we had stayed together, and what it might have done to Jieun. But sometimes the lines blur for me.”
“Me too,” Wonwoo says simply. He gets it. The urge to hug and kiss and hold her like when they were together. The desire to take care of her. The need to fall into bed with her like they did in their tragically short relationship and let her warm him up. He recognizes that some of it is just what he should do for the mother of his child. A toxic relationship between them would negatively impact Jieun and they’ll have none of it. But every time he leaves the house to go to a quiet apartment, he feels a mixture of relief and pain. Sometimes he wants to stay, like he is tonight, just to get over the fear of getting close to that blurred line again and see what happens.
“Wonwoo? Have you dated any?”
“No,” Wonwoo says bluntly. “Mingyu tries to set me up but I’ve avoided it.”
Y/N hesitates. “If you say it’s okay for me to date, then it would be okay for you as well. There’s no double standard here.”
He can’t imagine being with anyone else, so he says so. Y/N finally looks at him, eyes a little watery. “Still?” He simply nods and she bravely slides over to him. His arms fold around her automatically. “It gets lonely, doesn’t it? Our situation?”
“Lonely?” He questions though he gets it. He just likes to hear her thoughts.
“It’s not just about things like sex. It’s about the daily intimacy. I don’t get nearly enough hugs anymore because I’m too busy giving them. How silly is that?” Y/N chuckles into his chest.
“It’s not silly at all,” he says easily. The second part doesn’t come out so easily. “So there’s been no one in any capacity?” Y/N shakes her head in his chest. Something possesses him to press a kiss to her head. “Me neither.”
His words make her lift her head and look up at him. Out of habit, no matter how old it is, he grazes the side of her face. It’s also an old habit to lean down and kiss her. Warmth blooms in his chest when she kisses back. It takes very little thought to see where this is going. She starts shedding his clothes and hers are right behind his. When he pushes himself into her, he thinks he could cry at the little sounds she makes because they’re the same. It’s the same when he tells her he loves her and she says it back. It’s the same when she comes hard around him and he follows quickly after. It’s also the same to shower together afterwards.
They don’t talk about it. Wonwoo wonders if she’s just as lost for words as he is when they climb back into bed. They don’t talk about it in the morning either, but Wonwoo can’t resist finding little reasons to touch her. Brushing up against her in the kitchen while they make breakfast. Sitting close with an arm around her as they watch Jieun open gifts from the couch. Sneaking a little kiss on her cheek on his way out later that night. Once he’s had a taste after so long, he remembers how much he loved it. It’s like a knife in his chest to go back to his quiet apartment.
~
It’s the middle of January, in the middle of the night, when Wonwoo’s phone rings. He’s groggy but his eyes shoot up when he sees who’s calling. She would never call this late if it wasn’t an emergency. “Y/N?”
Her breathing is a little jagged on the line. “Wonwoo, Jieun is sick.”
He knows this, Jieun has had the flu for a few days now, but Y/N wouldn’t panic like this for just anything. He’s up and pulling on clothes fast. “Talk to me, baby.” The name comes out before he realizes it but Y/N doesn’t say anything about it.
“She’s got a high fever and I think she’s dehydrated. She’s so out of it that she won’t really talk to me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know exactly when he hung up the phone or how fast he drove, but he finds Y/N hovering over Jieun’s bedside. He decides they’re out of their element when he sees the thermometer and scoops up Jieun. “Let’s just go to the hospital.”
Y/N grabs her things swiftly and they’re in the car within a couple minutes. Wonwoo’s nerves are shot already. He doesn’t want to take Jieun to the hospital because it brings back too many memories. But hospital staff say nearly an hour later that it was the right decision. They want to keep Jieun for a few hours at least to reduce the fever and get her rehydrated.
Outside of the exam room, Y/N cries into his chest. He does his best to soothe her, but everything he says is to soothe himself too. How Jieun came into this world was traumatic and both parents feel raw about it to this day, particularly since they’re standing in the same hospital that they were in five years ago.
The next morning, Mingyu brings him a bag of clothes because he won’t be going back to his apartment any time soon. Jieun will still need a few days of careful monitoring at home and Y/N’s hands haven’t stopped shaking, even when they’re on the way home later in the afternoon. He reaches over blindly and holds them in her lap as he drives.
~
It’s Valentine’s Day and Wonwoo is regretting agreeing to this. Mingyu’s been applying a lot of pressure lately to date. He has no excuse not to go when Y/N encourages him to, saying she doesn’t have any plans and will be home with Jieun having a girl’s night. Wonwoo hesitantly asked if Seungcheol hadn’t tried to make plans with her and she’d simply shrugged and said ‘It wasn’t going to work’.
So Wonwoo finds himself seated in front of a woman named Seoyun. Mingyu didn’t lie. She’s pretty, seems sweet, has a good sense of humor, and likes to read. Wonwoo is entirely unsettled by all of it but does his best to be polite. When he says nervously that it’s been a while since he’s dated, she waves it off and asks about him. He keeps it simple. He talks about his job and his daughter. Seoyun doesn’t seem put off by the mention of Jieun but carefully asks if the mother is in the picture. He smiles and simply says, “Yes, she is and we’re on good terms.” If he were to ever entertain bring someone else into Jieun’s life, Y/N’s presence is a non-negotiable and they should know it right away.
“Do you mind if I ask why it didn’t work?” Seoyun asked hesitantly. It occurs to Wonwoo that Mingyu might not have mentioned this little snag. She might not have agreed to go out with him if she did.
Nonetheless, Wonwoo keeps that answer brief as well. “We were only together briefly before we found out Jieun was on the way. We rushed to get married but quickly decided that it wasn’t making us happy.”
This seems to make Seoyun relax. He’s sure she was expecting some sob story about infidelity or money problems - the typical things that make people divorce. She tells him that she owns a bakery. When she tells him the name, he has to pretend like he’s never heard of it, despite the fact that his and Y/N’s little wedding cake came from there years ago and Seoyun probably made it herself.
He walks her to her front door at the end of the night and Seoyun smiles at him. “I don’t expect a second date.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Oh. Was it something I said?” He’s not hurt, just curious.
Seoyun chuckles. “No, nothing like that. I had a great time and you seem like a nice guy. I knew you would be because Mingyu had so many nice things to say about you. I just know when someone’s still in love with someone else.” Wonwoo feels his face pinch and Seoyun chuckles again. “It’s okay, really. I get it. You and your ex have history and you still care. Maybe you can even fix it one day.”
Wonwoo’s mouth is dry. “I don’t know if she wants that.” And the idea of asking feels like standing on a ledge.
Seoyun smiles kindly. “Just think about it. People have stressful periods of their life and some relationships don’t endure. But I’m a believer in right person, wrong time.” She wishes him good night and goes inside. He’s a little dazed the rest of the night.
~
Mingyu calls Y/N and says he needs uncle time a few weekends later and Y/N promptly hands Jieun over at the door an hour later. Y/N and Mingyu aren’t exactly friends, but they have some mutual respect for each other. Mingyu is suspicious when Wonwoo calls to ask if Y/N indicated what her plans were, but simply says ‘chores’.
Wonwoo lets himself into the house. Y/N is standing on the kitchen counter when he enters the room and jumps when he grabs ahold of her legs. “Hey! What are you doing here? Jieun is out with Mingyu.”
“I know,” he says vaguely. “The better question is what are you doing all the way up there?”
Y/N huffs. “Switching out my mugs.” Wonwoo hums. She’s collected coffee mugs for years and brought a not-so-small collection with her when they’d moved in together way back when. She had seasonal and holiday mugs that had to be shuffled around between the rack on the counter and the upper cabinet periodically.
“Wish you would just let me do that,” Wonwoo teases, though it does make him nervous to find her climbing on things. It always has.
Y/N snorted. “I would have if I knew you were coming over. But I’m almost done.” When she closes the cabinet, Wonwoo lifts her off the counter and places her on her feet. It makes her giggle and his chest feels warm.
“What? Didn’t think I could still do that?”
She shoves him by the chest but he stays stationary, his hands still pinned at her waist. Y/N picks up two floral mugs. “Which one do you want?”
“Black,” he answers shortly just to piss her off and he’s delighted when it works.
“You took those with you. Bright, seasonal mugs are all we have here.” She twists towards the coffee pot and starts it up because she knows he doesn’t actually care what the coffee is in. Wonwoo is still standing close, hands on her waist. “Not that you’re not welcome anytime, but what brings you here? I just have chores to do today so you run the risk of being put to work if you’re here,” she jokes with her back to him still.
“You, actually. Can we talk?”
She peeks over her shoulder, looking up at him. She looks confused. “Oh, okay. What about?”
“Us?”
He feels her stiffen and she turns to face him fully. “Is this a good ‘us’ or bad ‘us’ conversation?” It’s a fair question. She needs to know if she needs to gear up for a fight.
“I think it depends on how you take it, but I’d like you to hear me out.”
“Vague as ever,” Y/N huffs and he can tell it’s mostly a joke. “Let me get coffee for us first.”
~
They’re seated on the couch next to each other and Wonwoo doesn’t know where to start so he starts lamely. “I’m sorry.”
Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together. “For what?”
“For not being a good husband. I wish I could go back and do so many things over again.”
Y/N bites her lip. “Wonwoo, we were both at fault.” Wonwoo shakes his head at her.
“No, not equally anyway. You were suffering. With the pregnancy, with the birth, and with the postpartum depression. You needed my help and I checked out mentally and emotionally. I might have still been here physically, but I offered so little otherwise.”
Y/N’s eyes get watery and she puts the mug down on the coffee table, because her hands are shaking a bit. They always do when they talk about that period of time. “You were suffering too. The whole thing was just as much of a surprise for you. And then the pressure you were under at the hospital that night. It was a lot. All of it was.”
Wonwoo shakes his head again. “That’s just it.” He swipes a hand down his face. He hates thinking about that day much less talking about it, but he’s held onto this for five years now. “Things moved fast before that, yes. But something clicked off in my brain when that damned doctor asked me to pick between you or the baby. It’s an impossible decision that I felt like I’d get wrong no matter what. And I couldn’t even talk to you about it because you were a little busy bleeding out.”
He has to stop talking about the details because it feels like a knife twisting in his chest. He’s about to cry, something he rarely does, but this has been building for years now and he doesn’t want to stuff it back down anymore. “And then we get home and all I could picture is what it might have looked like if it hadn’t all worked out. What would I have done to come home without either of you? Or neither, totally alone?” He chuckles bitterly. “It’s so stupid because I have no room to complain. You were the one that almost died. But I couldn’t unsee it. The panic was all I could feel for months afterwards. It just wouldn’t go away and I was numb to everything else. So when you asked if I was happy, I said no, but I should have explained.”
Y/N is silently crying now. “What would you have said?”
“That I love you too much to lose you. So I let you go. God, it makes no fucking sense when I say it like that. I thought it was what you wanted when you handed me the papers so I signed them.” He’s crying in frustration now, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve it when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. She runs a hand through his hair and he breaks.
She’s one of the few people he’d let go like this in front of, but he’s still embarrassed when he pulls away. She stays close. “So, what now?” She hesitates. “Do you… want things to change?”
“Selfishly, yes.”
Y/N chuckles. “First of all, you don’t have a selfish bone in your body.” She cuts him off when he opens his mouth to argue. “Second of all, what do you have in mind?”
“Can we try again?” The question is weak but she nods and he feels like he could cry again. She’s crawling into his lap just as fast as he’s pulling her in. Once she’s straddling him, his arms fly around her and his lips slam into hers. It’s desperate and fast and it takes a single tug of his shirt from her for him to yank it off impatiently. She’s matches his impatience perfectly, tugging at their clothes to get the most important pieces out of the way until she’s crawling back into his lap and sliding down on him. He moans loudly into her neck at the warmth.
And then she’s riding him fast and he feels blinded by it. The intensity of it has him hurtling towards an orgasm fast and he reaches for her clit to get her there too. Afterwards, they sit boneless on the couch. He’s still buried inside of her and she’s laying on his chest. “I love you.”
His heart is in his throat when he says it back, and then he’s standing up with her still attached to him. She squeals and it makes Wonwoo feel so fucking light as he climbs the stairs, throwing her onto the bed. He’s on her in seconds and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. He doesn’t know how he’s lived without it for four years. She urges him into a brutal pace that has her crying out and coming hard more than once. When he’s done, he moves to get them into the shower and she pulls him back down and curls into his side. “No way, we’re staying here for a while.”
Wonwoo laughs, kissing her hard again.
~
It’s another small wedding, but this time it’s relaxed without all of the pressures they had before. Jieun is the flower girl, but she’s still kind of confused by the whole concept of them getting married. She doesn’t understand how things would even change. Wonwoo moved back in promptly after he and Y/N got back together. Jieun didn’t really seem to notice, which Y/N assured Wonwoo was a good thing. That meant he’d already been so present that the change was imperceptible to her.
Mingyu is giving a speech. Wonwoo and Y/N didn’t do the groomsmen/bridesmaid thing, but Mingyu still felt compelled to give one because he was certain he would have been the best man If the wedding had been any bigger. Mingyu is surprisingly warm to Y/N now. It seems he’s seen the error of his ways and accepted that being with her makes Wonwoo happy. There was a lot that Wonwoo didn’t tell him back then that he’s told him now.
Wonwoo looks at Y/N when they toast and clink champagne glasses, but raises an eyebrow when she just pretends to sip it. He grips her thigh lightly and leans over when the music starts again. “You don’t have to pretend to drink it, baby. I don’t want you to get sick again.”
Wonwoo had gotten a call from Y/N first thing this morning. She was late and she was panicking. He abandoned the rule that the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other before the ceremony and went to her hotel room. A few tests later and the results were confirmed. She’d tearfully asked if he wanted to call off the wedding and his vehement denial had startled her. She’d asked him a dozen times and he had to kiss her breathless for her to get it.
She still looks nervous sitting next to him. “Don’t have any regrets, do you?”
He pulls her face to his and kisses her hard. He can be soft later, but she needs to understand the intensity of his love right now. “I’m with you. We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not upset? Really? Even after how things were with Jieun?” She’s getting tearful again.
“No, I’m not upset. I’d love to have another child with you. But I’ll be picking you if I’m asked again, okay? It’ll always be you.”
Y/N nods and this time she’s the one kissing him hard. He won’t be letting her go again.
#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#seventeen#svt#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#smut
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Hello everything is fine? I just found your account and I'm already in love!!!
I loved your sleepy confession writing post, if it doesn't bother you and only if you want, could you do it for Kalim, Jamil and Ruggie? They are so cute!!! >w<
Oh, and sorry if the English is wrong, it's not my first language...
An even sleepier confession
Thank you for the request and the sweet words!! And don’t worry about your English, it’s great! Plus, it isn’t my first language either, so i get the struggle, haha! :)
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Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / part one
Characters: Kalim, Jamil, Ruggie
Format: Headcanons
Warnings: None that i can think off
Kalim
-Chances are, you were at one of his party’s, stayed late, and are too tired to go back to ramshackle
-so, Kalim being Kalim, annoys convinces Jamil to let you two have a sleepover. The absolute energy boost Kalim gets after getting permission already makes Jamil regret his decision..
-after a long night of story telling (with how many siblings Kalim has, he definitely always has tea to spill), pillow fights, and movie marathons, you finally decide to go to sleep, much to Jamils relief
-Just before you two fall asleep though, you unconsciously make one last comment “Life is always so fun with you, really makes me wanna marry you one day..”
-If you thought you’d get any sleep after a comment like that, you’re wrong! Because Kalim is now wide awake and practically yelling in excitement
-He’d be asking you if you really meant it, before talking about how you’ll have to meet his family first, especially all his siblings! They’ll love you!! Why don’t you come with him over the next Holidays?! All while being all over you, kind of like an exited puppy are those ears and a tail??, meanwhile you’re just sitting there like ‘oh shit, I said that out loud?!’
-It’ll only get worse if you confirm that, yes, you do, in fact, want to be with him and maybe, hopefully, marry him one day
-Jamil storms in, thinking you two were getting assassinated or something, only to see Kalim hugging you, practically shaking in excitement, talking about all the dates he’ll take you on (and about your wedding of course)
-you sheepishly look over at Jamil, who is staring daggers into you, the message clear ‘you couldn’t have waited until morning?’. If looks could kill, Jamil would have cut you into a three course meal just now :D
-Jamil tells him to quiet down, so the rest of the dorm can rest
-Kalim continues to whisper-yell, till eventually you two fall asleep cuddling
-the next day, half the school already knows about your now relationship, partially because the entirety of scarabia could hear him, and partially because Kalim can’t keep his mouth shut-
-He is so hung up on that marriage comment, that he might accidentally introduce you as his fiancée a few times!
Jamil
-you, being the kind soul that you are, probably decided to help him out with his chores around Scarabia
-But unlike him, you aren’t used to so much work, No matter how much Crowley tries to overwork you so eventually you’re just straight up exhausted.
-Jamil brings you to one of the many couches, but he makes sure it’s one away from the business of the dorm, he wouldn’t want you to be disturbed while you sleep he cares to much about you for that
-He picks up the few dirty plates some other students left behind, as you get comfortable, which is a very easy task, considering all those silk blankets and soft pillows! You mumble something a mere second before falling asleep. “You’re so caring, Jamil… makes me want to marry you even more than i already to..”
-Jamil halts in his tracks, he almost drops the plates he was carrying! Partially because he’s flustered, but also because a part of him hoped you wouldn’t like him back and the crush would pass.. not that it ever would have
-He is lost in thought as he makes his way to the kitchen, he almost even runs into another student
-Jamil likes you, he really does, there’s no doubt there, but he’s worried more than anything. He doesn’t have time for love!
-not only would you distract him from keeping Kalim from accidentally getting himself killed, but his work would mean that he’d have little to no time to spend with you.. not to mention if you get married, you and your future children would be forced to work for the Asim family too- Unless..
-If he takes you’re last name, instead of him yours, neither of you would be a part of the Viper name any longer. Instead of him enslaving you into service, you could free him from his life of servitude.
-And you always find ways to hang out, despite how busy he is
-He continues to work, now with a smile on his face.
-Maybe this could work out after all :)
Ruggie
-Another one who you were probably helping with work
-Usually he’d refuse help, he doesn’t want to be indebted to anyone, but hey, it’s an excuse to spend more time with you, so he’ll make an exception
-Afterwards, your beat.. even after book 3 and knowing him for a while, you never could have guessed how much work just one certain Lion could make.
-He lays down next to you, either making a sarcastic or teasing comment as he does.
-As always, you laugh in response, but this time you follow it up with “You’re a great guy, you know that? I hope i get to marry you one day..”
-His usual smug smirk, is gone. Just like that. It’s replaced by absolute shock
-He turns to you, to question you about it, only to see you’re already in the land of dreams
-Ruggie doesn’t know how to feel, He is shocked, flustered, and most of all, confused. Yes, he is happy that you like him back, it just confuses him.
-You’re in a school filled with rich guys and literal Royalty. So, by the seven, why would you like a guy like him? Especially since your first meeting was literally him stealing a sandwich from your son friend!
-But it makes him smile, in a school filled with rich people, someone as amazing as you, still chooses him, so he must be really great, right?
-Now he’s even more determined to get a good job, so that he can give you and your possible children a good life!
-He just hopes his Grandma and the kids will like you.. nah, he’s sure they will, you’re you!
-He won’t immediately make his move to ask you out, but he’s definitely working on it! He would be a bit more hesitant about asking you out (Even after you basically asked to marry him) if you’re a girl, as in nature male hyenas are naturally more submissive towards the female they’re trying to court
This was so much fun to write, thank you so much for the request!!
Feedback is welcomed, just please be nice!! Hope you all have a nice day <3
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#headcanons#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#ruggie bucchi#twst ruggie#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#twst jamil#jamil viper#jamil x reader#jamil viper x reader#kalim x reader#kalim al asim x reader#kalim al asim#twst kalim#writing#paradise writing ✍🏻
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UNDERCOVER HEAT (FT. TOJI)
synopsis. undercover mission, heated brownies, and a halloween party—what could possibly go wrong? wc. 5.4k. content. detective au. aphrodisiac intake. ōral sėx. șex (missionāry, doggy, prone bone). and more i just can't remember lol. an. first time writing a toji fic. i hope it doesn’t disappoint 🙏🏽. very tired so if anything doesn’t make sense just pretend like it does.
“you look like you just stepped out of a comic book,” toji says, his dark eyes sweeping over your form as you navigate the crowded room.
“you’re one to talk, bruce wayne,” you shoot back, smirking as you elbow him playfully in the ribs. his confident grin widens, but the flirtation is cut short when you remind yourself of the real reason you’re here.
the two of you are on an undercover mission, blending in as partygoers to gather intel on a notorious drug lord rumored to be making a deal tonight. your focus is to blend in, stay low-key, and keep watch for any suspicious activity.
yet, the tension between you feels just as dangerous as the mission.
the crowd is wild, people in masks and costumes dancing under the flashing lights, the music vibrating through your chest. you stick close to toji, keeping an eye on the room while trying not to be distracted by how good he looks in that suit, his tie slightly loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, his tattoo peeking through.
as you both move through the party, a table laden with snacks and drinks catches toji’s eye. he slows, raising an eyebrow as he picks one up, inspecting it with mild curiosity.
“weed brownies,” he says, offering it to you with a teasing smirk. “c’mon, loosen up. we’ve got time.”
you arch an eyebrow. “we’re on duty, toji,” you try to remind him.
“just half,” he urges, nudging it toward you. “it’ll help you relax a bit. you’re too uptight for this.”
with a reluctant chuckle, you accept half, sharing a knowing glance before you both take a bite. the sweet flavor melts on your tongue, and you try to suppress the nagging feeling that you might regret this decision.
he grins, finishing off his half before leading you further into the crowd. at first, you don’t feel any different. you remain sharp, alert, your eyes scanning the room.
as the night wore on, you both felt the effects start to creep in—the heat started to build within you, and every glance at toji made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
a warm, insistent pulse that’s building deep inside you, spreading through your veins with every beat of the music. you glance at toji, and your breath catches in your throat. he’s closer now, his dark eyes fixed on you with a new intensity. his lips part slightly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you can feel the air between you thickening.
“this feels... different,” you murmur, shifting slightly as the heat pools low in your abdomen. the fabric of your bodysuit suddenly feels too tight, too warm.
“yeah,” toji says, voice lower than before, almost rough. his hand brushes against yours, and you flinch, hyper-aware of how close he is. “weed doesn’t feel like this.”
you glance around nervously, suddenly aware of the pounding music, the dancing bodies pressing against you. the lights seem brighter, the air heavier, and when you look down at the table again, your stomach drops.
there, right next to the tray of brownies, is a small sign.
“aphrodisiacs.”
“toji,” you hiss, pulling him closer. “those weren’t weed brownies.”
he reads the sign, then looks back at you, realization dawning. “fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his dark hair. “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
the heat is overwhelming now, pooling in your core, making every nerve in your body sing with need. and toji—he’s so close, his body radiating warmth, his woody musk filling your lungs, making it impossible to think straight.
your hand drifts down to his arm, gripping the fabric of his suit as you step closer, your body pressing against his. the desire is overwhelming, and you can’t hold back. you start to move, swaying your hips in time with the music, grinding against him with deliberate movements.
“toji...” you whisper, voice thick with need, “i can’t...”
he groans, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging in as he pulls you against him. “keep it together,” he murmurs, but his grip tightens, drawing you impossibly close. “we can’t let this ruin the mission.”
“i know,” you breathe, the words barely escaping as you press yourself against him, your body instinctively seeking friction. every pulse of the music drives you further into a frenzy, the heat pooling between your thighs, craving more.
“god, you’re driving me insane,” he admits, his voice low and rough, the desire in his gaze igniting something carnal within you. “we can’t—”
his lips ghost over your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “we really shouldn’t…” but his hands are already wandering, sliding over your waist, his touch burning through your bodysuit. instinctively, your hands find his chest, pressing against him as your body moves in sync with the music in the background.
“don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the thrum of the music. your body arches into his, craving more, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in the moment.
his control slips—just for a second. the space between you becomes charged with an undeniable need. toji leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, so close to closing the distance when—
he stiffens.
his eyes snap to something in the crowd, cutting through the haze. your own gaze follows his, heart still pounding in your chest, blinking away the daze of desire when you spot the drug lord making his way toward a back room, a sleek black briefcase in hand.
“shit,” toji curses under his breath, his voice hardening with frustration. his grip on you loosens slightly, his hand sliding down to grab your wrist. “we’ve got to move.”
you blink up at him, still half-lost in the daze of desire, your body protesting as he tugs you away from him. “toji…” you murmur, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as you’re pulled back to reality. the tension between you is still sizzling and stopping feels like torture.
“later,” he growls, though there’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes too. his hand tightens around yours, dragging you through the crowd, weaving between costumed partygoers, until you’re following the drug lord into the darkened hallway.
the sounds of the party fade behind you, replaced by the faint murmur of voices. toji pulls you close, pressing a finger to his lips as you both inch closer to the door. the drug lord is talking to someone inside, their voices low and serious. you strain to listen, trying to make out the conversation, but your mind is still clouded by the way toji's lips felt on your skin, almost kissing you.
a creak in the floor makes your heart skip a beat. the drug lord’s voice halts, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. panic surges through you, your pulse spiking as you realize you’re about to be caught.
but before you can react, toji’s hand is on your face, rough yet urgent as he grabs your chin and turns your head toward him. without warning, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate, searing kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. his lips are warm and soft, a stark contrast to the tension that crackles between you. the world blurs around you, the tension from before exploding as his mouth moves against yours with a ferocity that leaves you breathless.
you can barely think—barely process anything other than the feel of his lips, the way his hands grip you like he can’t let go. his fingers cradle your face, thumb brushing your cheek, grounding you even as the kiss threatens to pull you under. the kiss is both a cover and a release, a way to escape the reality of the mission and the overwhelming need that’s still coursing through your veins. each brush of his mouth against yours sending your senses in overdrive.
the door opens, and the drug lord’s gaze sweeps over you both. for a split second, his eyes linger, suspicion flickering in his expression, but toji doesn’t stop. his body shields yours, pressing you against the wall as his lips move hungrily against yours, keeping up the act—and maybe indulging just a little in what he’s been holding back.
after what feels like an eternity, the drug lord turns away, satisfied that you’re just another pair of partygoers caught up in the chaos of the night. the door clicks shut behind him, and toji finally pulls back, both of you gasping for breath.
his forehead presses against yours, both of you panting, hearts racing. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the kiss—hanging between you.
“well,” you finally murmur, your voice shaky but playful, “that was one hell of a distraction.”
toji smirks, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where his kiss smeared your lipstick. “don’t get used to it,” he mutters, though the look in his eyes says otherwise.
just as you catch your breath, the door swings open again. toji’s instinct kicks in, and he pulls you close once more, capturing your lips with his in another kiss. his hands weave through your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing against yours, and in reflex, your body arches against his.
“nice costume, kitty,” the drug lord’s voice cuts through the air as he walks past, glancing at the two of you. “ah, lovebirds, wrap it before you tap it,” he adds with a smirk before sauntering away. toji pulls back slightly, his grin still lingering on his lips, and you can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all—caught mid-kiss while undercover.
your fingers instinctively brush over the scar on toji’s lip but he halts your wrist with a firm grip, his eyes narrowing slightly. “we should follow him,” he says, his voice strained. a flicker of irritation crosses his face, and you wonder if you’ve crossed a line.
you trail behind the drug lord as he exits the club, your heart racing. he climbs into his sleek car, and just as he drives away, toji pulls you back, shielding you with his body. “the team will follow him. mission’s over.” he says.
he steps away for a moment as he quickly relays the information on his radio, tension radiating from him as he waits for the valet.
you feel a chill in the air and your wrap your arms around yourself. toji returns, draping his jacket over your shoulders without a word. “i’ll drive you back,” he says, and you nod gratefully.
the silence is heavy in the car as he drives. “i’m sorry,” you finally murmur.
“for what?” he glances at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“for not keeping my hands to myself and touching your face.” you fidget, feeling the weight of your actions.
toji exhales slowly. “it’s fine.”
toji’s hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, the muscles in his jaw flexing. the tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, the faint hum of the staticy radio doing nothing to ease it.
“i’m not pissed,” he repeats, his voice even, but you can tell he’s holding something back.
“really?” you press, shifting in your seat to look at him. “then why does it feel like you’re pissed?”
he finally exhales, the kind of breath that sounds like he’s been holding it in for far too long. “fine,” he mutters. “maybe i’m pissed because i can’t fuck you the way i want.”
the confession hangs in the air, heavy and raw. your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as your body heats up at the words. “how... how do you want to fuck me?”
toji’s lips twitch into a half-smirk, his eyes still fixed on the road. “we’re not doing this,” he murmurs, but the low rasp in his voice betrays him.
“why not?” you challenge again, leaning closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “we both took that aphrodisiac… you want this just as much as i do.”
your hand drifts over to his thigh, inching higher toward his groin, and his breath hitches. he grabs your wrist before you can go any further, his grip tight but not painful. “don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.”
but the way his gaze darkens with lust tells you he’s more than ready to finish whatever you’re starting.
toji pulls up in front of your place, the car rumbling softly as it idles. the air between you is still charged, thick with the unspoken tension that's been hanging between you all night. you hesitate for a moment, biting your lip, before glancing at him.
"you want to come inside?" the words slip out before you can stop them, and you can feel your pulse quicken.
he turns to look at you, his gaze heavy-lidded and unreadable. there's a beat of silence, then he shuts off the engine. "are you sure?" his voice is low, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
you nod, swallowing hard as you open the car door and step out, feeling the cool night air on your skin. he follows you, every movement deliberate and controlled, as if he's holding back the flood of want simmering just beneath the surface.
inside, the air feels different—warmer, more intimate. you kick off your shoes, turning to face him, heart racing in your chest.
you turn to him, nerves fluttering as you ask, "want something to drink or—"
before you can even finish, toji's lips crash against yours, cutting off your words. his hands slide over your waist, pulling you closer against him, the intensity of his kiss stealing your breath. the short dress you’re wearing bunching under his grip. there’s a desperation in the way his lips move against yours, like he's making up for all the restraint he had to hold onto earlier. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into you as he presses you against the wall.
"just you," he growls against your lips, voice rough, as if he’s been holding it back for too long. "i only want you."
"then take me," you murmur, the words barely a whisper before he’s on his knees in front of you, so sudden it makes your breath hitch.
his hands slide up your stocking-clad legs, fingers gripping the back of your thighs, the warmth of his palms seeping through the thin fabric. “you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he mutters, but the way he looks up at you through his dark lashes nearly makes your knees buckle.
you would've been on the floor, legs in the air, if it weren’t for his hands holding you steady, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. his palms glide higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress.
“you sure you want this?” he asks, his breath warm against your skin as his lips graze the inside of your thigh. your breath catches, and all you can do is nod, legs trembling from the way his fingers tighten around you like he knows he’s about to make you fall apart.
his lips glide over your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin beneath the sheer fabric of your stockings. he doesn’t pull them off just yet; instead, he removes your heels, leaving your feet bare and vulnerable. taking the opportunity, you press against the tightness in his pants, and the deep groan that escapes him makes you chuckle sweetly.
that sound seems to ignite something in him, and he pushes your dress up higher, giving him an unobstructed view of your lower half. “you’re asking for it,” he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses over the black tights, pressing his lips firmly against you, making you feel every bit of his desire.
you can feel yourself getting wetter with each press of his lips. “toji,” you breathe, your body instinctively arching towards him.
as your fingers reach for your stockings, eager to remove them, toji grabs your wrist, holding your hand firmly at your sides. “not yet,” he murmurs. his lips resume their path along your thighs.
you squirm but he keeps you pinned, his hands anchoring your wrists to the wall. “let me take my time,” he whispers, kissing softly over the fabric, each press of his lips sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
after a moment, he pulls away, standing tall and towering over you. he undoes the button of his pants, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “on your knees, pretty girl,” he commands, his voice low and sultry.
your heart races at the drop in his voice, and you can’t help but comply, sinking to your knees in front of him. “you’ve been teasing me all night,” he says, his tone low and gravelly. “now it’s my turn.” he steps closer.
with one hand, he cups your chin, tilting your head back to meet his intense stare. the other hand rests on his waistband, fingers grazing the fabric teasingly. “you know what i want, don’t you?”
you squirm slightly, pressing your legs together for some friction as you breathe out a soft, “yes.” toji’s smirk widens.
you take a moment to admire him, heart racing as you gaze at his cock, standing tall and proud. it’s a deep shade of crimson, flushed at the tip, glistening slightly with anticipation. the girth of him makes your mouth water, and you can't help but grow wetter at the sight, a rush of heat pooling in your core. the veins running along his shaft pop with every heartbeat, driving you wild.
your fingers wrap around him, feeling the warmth and weight of him in your hand. you start slow, stroking him, taking your time to learn every inch. leaning in, you press a teasing kiss to the tip, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty potent arousal.
toji's head falls back with a low groan, and you can’t help but feel a thrill run through you. maybe it’s the aphrodisiacs working, but you’re feeling bold. with a steady breath, you take him deeper, feeling him press against the back of your throat. your nose brushes against the soft, trimmed tufts of hair on his pelvis, and you keep him in your mouth for a few moment, enjoying the warmth and weight of him.
he can feel the way your throat tightens around him, sending waves of pleasure through both of you. toji grips the wall in front of him, his breath hitching as he fights the urge to buck forward. “fuck,” he moans, his hand moving to cradle your face, holding you in place as he pulls out just enough to let you breathe.
“it’s okay,” you whisper, locking your eyes with his. “you can fuck my throat.” a small smile plays on your lips as you watch toji's expression shift.
“you sure?” he asks, his voice full of caution, searching yours for reassurance.
you nod, as you pull him closer. with that, he presses back against your lips, and you take him fully, feeling him slide across your tongue. you grip the back of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he begins to thrust gently, mindful of your limits. your throat tightens around him, and you can feel tears forming in your waterline as the pleasure builds, each push making your body feel like its on fire.
after a few moments, you pull back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. he helps you stand, kissing you hard, tasting himself on your tongue. his hands move under your thighs, hoisting you up effortlessly as you both stumble backward, trying to find the way to your bedroom.
“right,” you mumble against his mouth, and he nods, tongues tangling as he blindly navigates, the need to feel your skin against his guiding him.
as toji stumbles into the hallway of your bedroom, he accidentally knocks down a few frames on the wall, and you can’t help but chuckle against his lips. the sound breaks the tension, making him grin against your skin as he slips into the bedroom. he falls forward, both of you bouncing onto the bed.
his smile widens as he moves his lips to your jaw, nipping playfully before gripping your chin and tilting it up, exposing the soft skin beneath. with a teasing kiss, he leaves a mark that only the two of you will know about. he presses more kisses down your throat.
“as much as i like this outfit, kitty,” he whispers against your skin, “i think i’d like what’s underneath even better.”
you bite your lip, glancing up at him with a smirk as you tug the straps over your shoulders. “sure you want to ditch the whole ‘bruce wayne’ persona so soon, toji?” you tease, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
he laughs, grabbing your legs and pulling you down the bed, his hands moving over your body tugging the dress along with your black stockings and pretty black lace arousal coated panties. “you wanna be one of bruce wayne’s one-night stands, kitty?”
“bruce wayne and catwoman don’t have one-night stands,” you say playfully, tilting your head at him. he raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “oh? what do they have then?”
“a complicated relationship,” you reply, returning his smile.
“well then, let’s make this complicated,” he says, a wicked glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin.
before you can respond, his hands find their way back up your thighs, fingers slipping between your legs. he groans lowly, your arousal coating his fingers like he's dipping them in a jar of honey. “you’re so wet, kitty,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers harder over your core, a teasing pressure that has you trembling.
your legs part on their own, a silent plea for more, and he gives it to you, slipping two fingers and sinking them deep into your warmth. your core eagerly takes him in, slick and pulsating around his fingers as they press in until his knuckles are snug against your clitoral hood.
he curls his fingers inside you, almost touching against that soft spot. “you take me so well,” he groans, watching your body react to every curl, every thrust, a twisted grin tugging at his lips as your wetness coats his hand.
he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and you can’t help but whine at the sudden emptiness. “need to feel this clenchin around my cock instead,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
your breath hitches as he stands up, stripping off the rest of his clothes. he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a condom, and you raise an eyebrow, your voice laced with teasing. “communal dick?”
he lets out a mock gasp. “refined dick, actually,” the corners of his mouth twitch upward, “only the finest get the honor.” his grins grows as he steps between your legs again. “and tonight, it's all yours.”
toji tears the condom wrapper open, his eyes never leaving yours. “and just so you know,” he says, rolling it on, “my dick’s very picky about who it gets hard for.” his voice is dripping with that familiar cockiness, making your pulse quicken.
he aligns himself with your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your soaked folds. “lucky me then,” you whisper, the words barely escaping before he pushes inside, filling you completely in one slow thrust.
toji groans as he sinks into you, feeling the way your walls grip him tightly around him. “fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, his voice roughened. a moan slips out as he starts to move, slow at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
“such a perfect fit,” he growls, gripping your hips, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper. each time he pushes inside, it feels like he’s molding your insides to the shape of him.
“harder,” you gasp, wrapping your legs around him, urging him on.
toji grins down at you, his eyes dark. “needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teases, but he doesn’t make you wait, slamming into you with more force. your moans get louder, your body trembling as pleasure builds inside you, and he watches with smugly.
toji can feel the aphrodisiac kicking in, making everything feel more intense. your skin’s on fire, every touch sending you closer to your orgasm. “can feel it working, huh?” he smirks, enjoying the way you squirm under him.
you nod, breathless, biting your lip as you arch your back, wanting more. every nerve in your body is lit up, and the way he moves inside you has you craving him even more.
toji’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more intense, as if he’s riding the same wave of heightened arousal. “you’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls huskily.
his hands find your waist, flipping you effortlessly onto your stomach. you feel the cool sheets against your heated skin. he positions himself behind you, a wicked grin plastered across his face as he takes in the view of you sprawled out beneath him, the way your ass perks up invitingly, the soft flesh just begging to be gripped.
his hands move over your curves, fingers squeezing your ass as if to test the softness beneath his palms. he relishes the way your skin feels, warm and supple, as he kneads it gently. “so perfect,” he growls, unable to resist the urge to give you a playful smack, relishing the sound it makes and the way your body reacts.
you arch your back, pushing your ass further back against him, eager for more of his touch. the little whimper that escapes your lips makes toji’s breath hitch. “more,” you plead softly, and he can’t resist the temptation. he delivers another sharp slap to your ass, the sound echoing in the air as a flush of heat spreads across your cheeks.
he leans forward, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “you just can’t get enough, can you?” toji’s hands glide back over your skin, rubbing over the reddened marks he left behind. he positions himself once more, his hardness pressing between your legs, tantalizingly close to where he was just moments ago.
when he finally pushes in, you glance back over your shoulder, a challenge dancing in your eyes. “i thought you’d be more rough,” you tease, and he chuckles, dropping his head into your back as he presses a kiss there, tugging your hair back gently, pulling you up against his chest. “you make me wanna be soft, take my time,” he murmurs against your ear. his thrusts become hard yet slow, pressing right against that sweet spot deep inside you.
his groans slip into your ear, and you shut your eyes, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, savoring the sensation of him filling you completely.
punctuating his words with a thrust that sends you reeling forward. you’d fall face-first into the mattress if he didn’t have his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you in place.
as he drives into you, he pushes you to lay flat on the bed, his weight pressing over you as he continues to move back and forth. you can feel a trickle of sweat run down your back, his pace unrelenting as he keeps you at the edge.
his hand slips to your front, fingers working over your clit. “i need you to cum for me,” he urges, and the intensity of his words sends a rush of warmth through you. your body responds eagerly, building to that peak he’s coaxing from you. with a particularly hard thrust, you cum around him, crying out his name.
toji pulls out, flipping you onto your back. you grip his shoulders, pulling him down to you as your mouths crash together in a messy kiss. lips sliding together as your tongues tangle, tasting each other with urgency.
you push him onto his back, taking the reins as you ride him. he chuckles softly, his back hitting the mattress. his hands grip your hips, guiding you as you bounce on him, the sensation driving him wild.
the sounds of your mouths meeting are loud and wet. your hands fist into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss with every desperate press of your lips. he groans against you, the vibrations making your pussy clench, and you can’t help but kiss him harder, eager to feel every bit of him.
toji pulls back, his breath ragged. without breaking eye contact, he starts kissing his way down your body, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses from your lips to your neck, and further down.
as he makes his way to your stomach, he dips lower, inhaling your sweet scent as he reaches your core. he pauses for a moment, relishing the sight of your slick thighs glistening with remnants of your pleasure. he dives in, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and a low groan escapes his lips as he savors the tangy sweetness of your cum.
“fuck, you taste so good,” he hums as he cleans your arousal with his tongue. he licks and sucks, the sound of his mouth working against you filling the room. his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open as he buries himself deeper into your sweetness, not wanting to miss a single drop.
“you’re a fucking masterpiece,” he breathes against your skin, pausing just long enough to give you a wicked grin before diving back in. each flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. his dedication makes your head spin.
each flick of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge, the heat coiling tight in your belly. already sensitive from cumming once before, the familiar pleasure reaches a peak again. your body quivers in response, thighs trembling as you grip the sheets, trying to anchor yourself against the onslaught of sensations.
“toji,” you moan, breathless and desperate, your voice barely above a whisper. he responds with a low growl, his fingers tightening around your thighs as he feasts on you, drinking in every last drop.
that sweet tension snaps as you come undone, your body clenching around nothing, pleasure radiating outwards like ripples on water.
“that’s it, baby,” he murmurs against your core, his voice thick with lust as he licks you through your high, coaxing out the last remnants of your pleasure. the vibrations of his voice only deepen your bliss, drawing another soft whimper from your lips.
he rises from his place between your thighs, his body looming over yours. without a word, he lines himself up, pressing the tip of his cock against your slick entrance.
“ready for more?” he rasps.
you nod eagerly, and he pushes in, filling you completely. the stretch feels heavenly, igniting another wave of heat deep within you.
“that’s it, take it,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drives into you relentlessly. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your breathless moans and his low growls of satisfaction.
toji’s pace quickens, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you can feel him chasing his own release. his breaths turn ragged, every grunt and groan resonating deep within you. “so close,” he hisses, sweat glistening on his skin as he leans down to bury his face in your neck.
he lets out a deep, guttural moan that reverberates through you. soon, he spills inside the condom, his hips stuttering against you as he groans your name. the sensation of him filling the condom mixed with the way his cock twitches against your g-spot sends you spiraling over the edge once more.
but neither of you can stop. there's this unspoken agreement to keep going, diving back into that intoxicating dance. your bodies move together, the bed creaking louder with each thrust, slamming against the wall in a frantic rhythm. every thrust, every moan fills the air, and you lose track of how many times you both cum, riding that blissful high again and again.
the room is heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, and as you finally collapse against each other, a soft laugh escapes your lips.
“think we might need a break,” you say, breathless and a bit giddy.
toji chuckles, his fingers brushing over your skin, “yeah, maybe just a short one.”
likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated !
© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
#✎ luna.writes#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushigro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji x y/n#toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x you#jjk x y/n#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2024#divider by cafekitsune#warning banner by cafekitsune#coworker!toji#detective toji
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Crawling back to you
ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)
Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?
Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos
Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3
"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.
You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.
With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.
With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.
"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.
"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.
"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.
"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.
"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.
"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.
"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.
"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.
"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...
"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.
"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.
"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.
"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.
"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.
"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.
"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.
"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.
"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.
"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.
Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.
"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.
"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...
"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.
"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.
Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.
His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.
"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.
"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.
"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.
"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.
"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.
"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.
"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.
Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.
"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.
"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.
"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.
"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.
"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.
"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.
"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.
"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.
He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.
Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.
He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.
It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.
"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.
"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.
"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.
"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.
"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.
"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.
"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.
"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.
You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.
"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.
You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.
Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.
"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.
You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.
You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.
"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.
Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.
"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.
"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.
"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.
"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.
"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.
"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.
You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.
He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.
The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.
"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.
#simon riley smut#cod mw2#simon riley imagine#modern warfare#tf 141#tf141#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost#simon ghost x you#ghost x reader smut#ghost x reader#afab reader#smut#ghost smut
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Happy birthday and congratulations on 7k!! You deserve it. Thank you for sharing your gift for writing with us <3
Can I request apple pie- James potter + an airport terminal at midnight
I once saw a guy at the airport who looked a bit like James but I was looking busted and severely hungover from my last night of spring break to talk to him 😅
Thank you for requesting lovely!!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 688 words
“Excuse me.”
The voice is soft but still you wake with something like a growl brewing in your chest, fingers tightening possessively around the strap of your backpack. There’s a boy with brown eyes and a strong chin looking at you concernedly from behind a pair of glasses.
“Sorry,” he says, setting a hand on your suitcase. You’ve got your leg hooked through the handle, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to steal it, only resting his hand there. “Would you like this?” He holds up a clumped-up mass of fabric.
You blink at him, trying to puzzle out whether he’s really making no sense or whether you’re just that tired.
“For your head,” the boy clarifies. “You just, you don’t look very comfortable.”
You lift your head, feeling the imprint that something poking through your backpack has left in your cheek. “Sorry,” you say blearily. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s my fault,” he owns immediately. “Sorry, I meant would you like to use my hoodie as a pillow? So you can sleep properly.”
“Oh.” You still feel odd, and it doesn’t help that this is the sort of thing that might usually only happen in a dream. Since when do attractive strangers walk up to you in airports? “Um, thank you, but you don’t have to.”
“No, it’s really alright.” With your head lifted, he starts positioning it atop your backpack, fluffing it as though it’s a real pillow. “It’s my spare. I’m warm enough without it, see?” He gestures to the hoodie he’s wearing as if to demonstrate. It’s a deep red color that looks nice against his warm skin. He does look very warm, overall. “Anyways, there.” He steps back, grinning almost bashfully as he takes a seat across from you. “Now hopefully you can sleep better.”
“Thank you,” you say quietly.
He nods, still smiling much too brightly for this hour of night (or morning, you suppose. Is it morning yet?).
You close your eyes, trying to ignore how pleasantly warm your makeshift pillow is, like he’s been carrying it around in his arms all day. It smells nice, too, the scent of a shampoo you vaguely recognize and also pine, maybe picked up from wherever he’s coming from. You open your eyes again.
“When’s your flight?”
He looks back at you, pulling his headphones off one ear.
“When’s your flight?” you ask again. “So I can make sure to give it back in time.”
“Oh, not for a few hours yet.” He waves you off. His headphones come down around his neck. “We’re suffering delays. When’s yours?”
“Five-thirty.” You feel weary at the thought of it, though you can’t wait to get out of here. You’ve been dying to leave this airport since you’d arrived, grievously regretting your decision to save money on a hotel for the last night of your trip.
He makes a sympathetic hissing noise. “That sounds truly awful. Early bird gets the worm, though?”
“Something like that.”
He smiles, and maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting but you think that if you weren’t already lying down it would take your knees out from under you. “I’m James.”
You tell him your name, and he nods like he’s tucking it away.
“Are you going on holiday?” he asks, crossing one of his legs under him, getting comfortable.
“Sort of,” you reply. “I’m going to see my mum. But she makes it feel like a holiday.” Something softens around James' eyes, and for reasons unknown it makes your face warm. “Where are you headed?”
“My best mates are spending the holiday in France. They’ve spared me a pullout couch.” James tilts his head, looking far more content than anyone traveling at this hour ought to be. You wonder if his lips just lie in a permanent uptilt. “So where you’re going to visit your mum, is that where you’re from?”
You reposition your backpack so you’re propped up a bit more, James’ hoodie still under your cheek but suddenly feeling less keen on sleeping the hours until your flight away. Oddly, you’re no longer dying to leave this airport quite so badly.
#mae's 7k#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.
Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
(<<< part one)
“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.
You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.
“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”
“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.
“Well, have you?”
Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment.
And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…
You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.
Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.
As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it.
With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do.
Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind.
And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink.
“You should slash his tires”
“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”
“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"
"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"
Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good.
But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.
So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”
Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”
“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.
“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”
You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”
“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”
“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”
You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.
“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.
And boy, did you.
You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.
—
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.
After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.
You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”
“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
You frowned.
“Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.
“We have classes together?”
You blinked, impassive.
“We went on a date?”
A head shake.
“We slept together!”
“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”
That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane.
“How can you not remember?”
“How can I remember something that never happened?”
“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”
You smiled, a trap.
“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending.
Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”
“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”
“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”
You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.
Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”
A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.
“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.
“Finally you said something true.”
Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.
“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”
Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.
When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”
Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”
And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly.
There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.
When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.
And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.
It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.
That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.
And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.
The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.
And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.
But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.
And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.
He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.
But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.
Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.
And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,
But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.
And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.
°•. ✿ .•°
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Family Man Farmer Logan
dad!logan howlett x fem!reader
i cannot get this out of my head- logan out in the country with his little family has my brain rotting!!!!! also girl dad logan has me in a chokehold!
part two
divider by @cafekitsune
The rooster's crow echoed in the wide open space of land, stretching across the fields and barns and the small wooden playhouse he himself had built. To ensure Logan's consciousness, the small alarm clock started ringing. He groaned. He hated that damn thing, but oh well. His wife insisted on keeping one around.
That wife, you, were regretting your decision. You matched his groan, shoving Logan as the beeping continued to invade the silence you'd been enjoying. "Turn it off." You grumbled, and he grunted in response. He reached over and sloppily felt for the button and hit it like it had personally wronged him. He inhaled deeply and rolled over to wrap his buff arms around you.
"Mornin'." He said in his raspy morning voice, his beard tickling and pricking your neck. You didn't mind. It was a good look on him.
"Morning, honey." You yawned, turning around to face him. "Who's on daughter duty this morning?" You murmured, and Logan's heart fluttered seeing your eyes open halfway sleepily. God you were perfect, even with a bedhead.
"Baby duty." He corrected a bit grumpily.
"She isn't a baby anymore, honey."
"Yeah she is." He said, absolutely no room to argue. He sat up and stretched, his back popping as he did so. He gave you a kiss. "I'll meet ya in the kitchen, yeah?"
You offered a tired mutter in response. He chuckled and left the room, dressed only in gray sweatpants. He gently creaked open the door to his little girl's room, which was filled with toys and anything of the like. She had a lot of wolf plushies. Her favorite animal. It made him feel warm, like she subconsciously loved him everywhere. She of course didn't know what the hell an actual Wolverine was (she called it a woofewine), but word association apparently.
His heart swelled at his sweet girl passed out sleeping in her new big girl bed that he had built for her. He'd painted the wood white and found some stencils of some butterflies, which were painted yellow. Her favorite color. Logan gently sat at the edge of her bed, reaching over and gently shaking her shoulder.
"Hey, sweetie. Time to wake up." He whispered, like he didn't actually want to wake her up. He loved the peacefulness of her expression when she was sleeping. Looked so much like her mother.
His little girl squirmed a bit, whining and trying to pull her blankets over her face. It just made him laugh a bit, softly but firmly pulling the covers back down. She squealed.
"Daddy!! It's cold!!" She exclaimed, trying to reach for the blanket with her eyes still closed.
Logan laughed and grabbed her from her spot, gently pulling her into his lap and holding her tight. "How's this? Daddy's warm, yeah?" He smiled.
She huffed sassily. "Not as warm as the blankies." She argued, and Logan just laughed again. He grabbed the blanket you'd knit her and wrapped her up. "Better, Daddy." She hummed, leaning into him. He stood up off the bed and kept her close.
"You need to go potty?" He asked her as they walked to the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. Never in a million years did he think he'd have a perfect little girl who he was asking to go 'potty', but God did he not care about whatever dumb child lingo he had to use. Especially if it meant less dirty diapers. Ugh. Sometimes the smell was unbearable.
"No!" She said simply, letting him place her on the bathroom sink's counter. He handed her the Bluey themed toothbrush and she frowned. "You do it!" She demanded.
Your words echoed in his head. "She needs to be a little more independent, she can learn to brush her own teeth."
He sucked in a breath. "Why don't ya give it a shot yourself, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to keep his voice from straining. "You have a big girl bed, how 'bout brushing your teeth like a big girl?"
Your little girl just pouted. “No, Daddy.” She said firmly, baring her little baby toofers. “You do it.”
His heart strained. Oh her little eyes. They were so cute but she had the same little crease he himself got when he was upset. “Okay, sweetie. Maybe tonight.” He gave in almost immediately. It was pathetic, he’d killed so many people without a second thought, but this little girl had his heart in the palms of her itty bitty hands. Just one look and he was giving in.
He held the little toothbrush and got a small amount of bubblegum toothpaste (she didn’t like the ‘spicy’ kind) and gently held her face while he took care of her teeth for her. She grinned the whole time, very proud of herself for winning once again.
After that ordeal was done, Logan picked her up in the blanket and brought her to the kitchen where eggs and bacon reached his nose. You stood in nothing but Logan’s shirt and very short shorts, yawning while you cooked for your family.
"Mommy!" You heard your child shout, and you looked over your shoulder to see her snuggled up against Logan's hairy chest.
"Good morning, sweetie. Did you brush your teeth?" You asked.
"No! Daddy did it!" She chirped, and Logan smiled rather sheepishly at your unimpressed look.
"You know I can't help it." He sighed, placing her in one of the ranch chairs at the table. He tried to make up for it. "Breakfast smells delicious, honey." Well, he would have said that either way, but it made you smile as you served the food, two egg eyes and a bacon smile.
"There's more if you want seconds." You hummed, sitting down and beginning to eat.
Your daughter freed her arms from the blanket cocoon so she could eat. "Can I feed the horsies today?" She asked happily, pointing to the apples in the fruit bowl.
You and Logan exchanged glances. "'Course, babygirl." Logan said simply. The two horses at the farm were both gentle, but your baby could be pretty loud and scare them. You trusted Logan to keep her safe.
"You have to listen to Daddy and be careful." You warned, really not wanting your baby getting bitten or kicked by a horse.
"Okay, Mommy!" She said, hurriedly finishing her breakfast and was going to go outside.
"Clothes, sweetie." Logan reminded, and she ran back to her room to change. He smiled at you. "She'll be fine, darlin'. I got her."
"I know, I know." You said softly as Logan finished eating and went to change too. The two came back down in matching denim: Logan with jeans and your little girl with overalls.
"Bye Mommy!" She said and ran out, the screen door slamming shut.
"Bye, hon." Logan said with a wink, heading out to spend time with his girl.
i'd love to do a part 2! i probably will, thank u for reading!
#x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#fem!reader#lumberjack logan#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#dad logan#girl dad logan
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He has a nightmare where he rejected you
Characters: Diavolo and Barbatos (x gn!reader, separately)
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5
Main Masterlist
.
Diavolo – No one would ever accept you
Your willingness and capability to adapt quickly to the Devildom delights him. Sure, the friendship you develop with the seven brothers helps in your journey, but even that requires some talent and persistence; not everyone gets to enjoy Lucifer’s company, after all.
What a wonderful surprise you were. The perfect human exchange student for his program; you make him have high hopes for the foreseeable future.
The way you grew up, what were you taught and how you existed amongst those who resemble your life are nothing like anything he has ever seen before. Since Solomon is a human with no humanity, the contrast between you and him and everyone else is overwhelming.
Curiously, perhaps that’s why your interest in him developed so quickly.
Sure, he’s handsome and powerful and you will never meet anyone like him ever again, but that’s not why you search for his company, isn’t it?
While accepting his dark nature and respecting his position, you don’t see a ruler whenever you look at him, nor a figure to be afraid of. On the contrary, you smile and join him at his childish whims and treat him like you would with any of the brothers; no titles or inhibitions, just a pure honest wish to spend your free time with him.
Rejecting you is not an enjoyable experience and he regrets doing it for many long days, but the truth is, he doesn’t see a friend in you whenever he stops to gaze at your features.
He sees a human, a short lifespan and no presence in the demon hierarchy; judging eyes questioning his decision to accept your feelings.
He sees no place for you in his life and that breaks his heart more than anything.
Of course, of all the nights he could’ve had this type of nightmare it had to be the one when he wasn’t sharing his bed with you.
His arms stretched, foolishly searching for your body, but he knew you were in your room in the House of Lamentation; sleeping peacefully, he hoped, although he could picture you mindlessly scrolling through your Devilgram feed.
He pushed himself off the bed, grimacing from the ache in his back, the point in his spine where his wings merged with bone. It felt as if he was still carrying his whole weight, standing straight for hours to smile at people who preferred him to be silent and pliable. Responding with hostility would never be the better option, that he knew, but he had spent every year of his life learning how to control his emotions for the future of his country and still, the universe seemed to enjoy testing his patience now and then.
Announcing your relationship to the public had been a calculated choice. While everyone knew you spent time together, holding hands and kissing when you didn’t mind who was watching, and surely doing even more than that in private, it had never been clarified whether yours was a casual affair or a serious commitment. The first would mean the prince was allowed to have fun, with a human no less, but the second implied taking too much from you; perhaps more than you could handle.
You had been there with him the whole night, chin high as well, but no wings or tail to back you. No horns to crown your head. For the first time, he saw your nature bother you, even if you tried to hide it from him. The scrutiny of others had tired you and your smile had disappeared long before his, which he couldn’t blame you for.
Spending the rest of your life with him was a sacrifice on your part. Blood, sweat and tears that you would shed together.
And he respected you for it.
He was so proud of you. So thankful.
Saying the whole situation wouldn’t be easier if he found someone more suitable for the spot you were in would be a lie, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Couldn’t he be selfish this once? He’d already given so much of himself to his kingdom; couldn’t he keep you at least?
The darkness of his room did nothing to ease his solitude, making it seem bigger than it was.
He paced around trying to tire himself again, to no avail. His mind was with you and with the sad expression you wore when you parted ways after the formal dinner and left with Lucifer and his brothers. Although you both expressed wanting to spend the night together, you desperately needed some time alone to clear your head and comfort your heart and, to be fair, so did he.
However, Diavolo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his DDD to check your chatroom; thankfully, you had been offline for hours. Sitting in his bed while stretching despite the pain, he slowly crafted a long good-night message. A bit cryptic, perhaps, but concise enough for him to go to bed peacefully again.
He would try again tomorrow.
He would try as many times as necessary if just for you.
Barbatos - You didn't catch his attention
He is, by a long far, one of the most important figures in the Devildom. A powerful being who swore servitude to an equally, if not more, powerful demon and acted true to his word from the beginning to the very end.
Ears and eyes everywhere, every time even, he is a valuable asset to the prince and even a friend when the moment is appropriate.
That implies secrecy and control. His speech is calculated and always limited, careful around others. He has to be mindful regarding what he talks about and with who.
What would Leviathan call him? The Dungeon Master?
He is no master of any kind, but the title amuses him nonetheless.
Thankfully, he enjoys the air of mysteriousness his job gives him.
Apparently, you do too.
Even though you’ve always been special, regardless of your unique magic, he hasn’t found you exceptional enough to open his heart to you.
He could and he definitely would in any other circumstance, but there was no push that would make him go forward.
Your confession, somehow, still surprises him.
Him, of all people? Him, who never bothered to spend time with you because he never found a reason to?
Dejecting your feelings is a pity, but you feel no different than a normal friend. It would be a waste of time to try for anything more.
He’s flattered, mind you, but that’s it.
Although he hopes you can continue to be friends, he would understand if you turn him down.
He can live with it; and he knows, with time, you will too.
As much control as he normally had over his unique power, it was impossible not to have slip-ups. Dreams, as he unfortunately came to discover, were the one door he couldn’t figure out how to close. Real alternate timelines and possibilities that never came to be merged in his subconscious, sometimes with unnecessary cruelty.
Rejecting you? Sadly, that’s something that could have happened. There’s so much he has to do, so many things he is responsible for… Perhaps time was for other versions of him more a tool to use than a treasure to keep. Perhaps, for those other versions, you didn’t fit in their schedule.
What a foolish mindset.
How realistic.
How sad.
He scowled, both from the thought and from the pain in his shoulder and his neck. The cushion he had been sleeping on wasn’t fluffy, more to decorate than to do its purpose, and his previous posture was as uncomfortable as it could get. When he tried to get up, planning to continue to do his job, no muscle in his body moved as it was supposed to do. A groan disrupted the silence of the room.
You would’ve called him an old man had you been there and he wouldn’t have had any words to defend himself.
Then again, had you actually been there, maybe the whole situation wouldn’t have happened.
A wave of unbearable warmth suddenly ran through his body, making him jump out off the couch while taking his gloves and jacket off. He huffed at the tidiness around him, not as satisfying as before anymore.
This particular living room wasn’t commonly used unless foreign guests were invited to the castle. Abandoned by everyone else, he sent the little D’s on cleaning duty on occasion, but this time he had decided to do it himself. Why? Perfectionism, of course. No speck of dust in sight, no armchair or chest out of place; red, gold and black, the colours of the crown, present across the furniture without being overbearing.
You had invited him to the House of Lamentation to spend the rest of the evening together, but he had declined, just like many times before. He’d learnt to know over time that you’d grown to expect his rejection, but still asked out of courtesy and perhaps a little bit of hope. How much would it pass until you decided you had enough of asking and stopped?
You were doomed to suffer his rejection, it seemed: in other timelines and your existent relationship with him. His stomach churned at the realization.
Sighing deeply, he waited until his heart settled again into a steady rhythm. He grabbed his discarded jacket and his gloves, faintly smelling the cleaning products’ residue, and grimaced while getting out of the isolated room. The time he’d take to reach the main areas of the castle would be enough for him to send a message to the Young Lord asking for a much-needed break.
Normally, the very few times he did it, he would ask in person and in advance, but the concept of time was filling his mind with anguish. He had already given too much of it to Lord Diavolo and, as much as he loved serving him, giving an approximate amount to you should be almost as important.
His job didn’t allow him to expand the limits, but for you, he’d go as far as he could.
.
.
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