#he's a little hard to see but he's there!
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out of breath, got me going like...
attractive things that the blue lock men do.
itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu
itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.
it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassingâ the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasnât exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.
it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, âno.â
the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phoneâ one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you.Â
youâre absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.
it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. heâs standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasnât that that got your attentionâ no, it was something entirely different.
he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin.Â
âthis what you wanted?â came a message right after, âi know youâre reading this right now, respond.â you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.
words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but thatâs what feeds his egoâ your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, itâs become a part of his gym routine.
itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.
driving with sae was a true test of controlâ specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.
itâs an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, youâre losing a battle to yourself.
itâs as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to saeâ the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrestâs frame. and it doesnât help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.
you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.
it feels like heâs taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before theyâre back on the road.
it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what heâs doing. âyouâre doing this on purpose,â you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.
âdoing what on purpose?â he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evidentâ you can practically hear the tiny smirk thatâs splayed on his lips. youâve concluded that heâs sick in the head, that heâs playing with you right in your face. âiâm just making sure we donât get into a crash, you baby.â and you willingly fall for it, every time.
nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.
laying in your lap, while youâre absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagiâs favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, heâd take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, heâd play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.
but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you donât push it out of the way.
so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesnât register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before heâs brushing it out of the way. itâs so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, heâs pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.
your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warmâ taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that heâs already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. âyou know,â you begin, âyou couldâve just asked me to do it for you.â
"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until itâs wiggling the book out of your hand. (you donât miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i canât see you."
michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.
at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you
it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from himâ he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.
heâll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighsâ trying to get you to cave into him. âwhy wonât you look at me when you talk?â heâs leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, âmein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.â
âyou can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,â you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.
you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almostâ because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. itâs hard to focus when heâs this close, when heâs right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.
itâs not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention.Â
âi promise, iâll stop teasing you. lookââ his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you doâ his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. âkeep talking, yeah?â
oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.
neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by âtil the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and heâll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, heâs already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesnât think much of it when he does itâ one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and heâs pulling at it without care.
but recently, heâs started to notice how intently youâd been staring each time he did it.
oliverâs got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you donât even seem to notice. youâre too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.
itâs entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.
he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then heâs unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he canât fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reactionâ your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.
âlike what you see?â the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you canât help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but heâs also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.
âyou wish.â you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. âitâs gonna take more than that.â that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly shouldâve known better. itâs like youâre offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.
oliver still hates neckties; thatâs an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.
yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.
itâs a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when youâre right by his sideâ he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.
so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.
âis this okay?â he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. âtell me if this is uncomfortable, and iâll figure something else out. okay?â
it made you shiverâ you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.
you nod, âno, this is okay.â more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. âthank you for asking.â he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more presentâ his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and heâs actively weaving you through the crowded streets.
whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. âsorry,â heâll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. âdid i hurt you?â
âno, iâm fine,â you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentionalâ but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what youâre thinking.
note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic đŠâ𦯠just astronomically down bad writing all around
Š rindreamery, 2024
tags. @choccorin @mininji
#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#nagi seishiro#nagi seishiro x reader#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#oliver aiku#oliver aiku x reader#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya kenyu x reader
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biting his bicep ! bf!rafe x reader.
         ę warnings - none / fluff!! reader's a bit freaky, suggestive at the end, just a product of me staring at his arms too much in drew's latest photoshoot. wc - 658.
your eyes had been transfixed on rafeâs arm for longer than you had initially intended to. it was supposed to be a fleeting glimpse, simple admiration for the fact that your boyfriendâs biceps had gotten big, the way they were outlined nicely albeit wearing a long sleeved sweater.
but no, it just had to turn into a whole staring fest where you tried not to swoon. admittedly, it was hard.
unintentionally chewing on your bottom lip, you were glad that he was busy elsewhere, looking at papers for some contract â or something, you had truthfully forgotten what the ordeal was. and you couldnât bring yourself to care in this moment, wondering what it would be like to just gnaw onto those arms of his.
âstop ogling at me like that.â his playful scoff snapped you out of your daze, blood instantly rushing to your cheeks. shit.
âi wasnât.â you were quick to retort, although quite a pointless lie. he had caught you after all, his eyes now knowingly looking back at you, a grin easing its way on his lips.
âaw, broke my heart a little bit there.â rafe feigned offense, tossing the papers aside before moving over to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tackled you, causing you to let out a yelp. you broke into giggles, more so from the embarrassment at being caught, feeling his lips brush against your forehead to press a soft kiss before pulling his head back slightly to look at your face.
âcan i bite your bicep?â you asked abruptly after gaining some courage, causing his eyes to widen momentarily, an amused huff leaving his lips.
âwow, that really came out of nowhere.â his hands trailed up to caress your sides, just shy away from the undersides of your breasts, pressing another kiss, on your cheek this time. âyou wanna bite my bicep?â you were quick to nod, smiling all goofily, unable for him to resist.
making it out as if he was doing it reluctantly, he rolled his eyes and sat up, taking his sweater off. you couldnât help but take note of every freckle and mole painted on his skin, wanting to do nothing but to kiss each of them.
without waiting for him, your hands grasped his arm and tugged him down, squeeze onto his right bicep, your mouth quick to latch onto it. it was a gentle, experimental bite, filling you with a fuzzy feeling once you pulled back to see the indent of your teeth left on his skin. a mark, really. you couldnât help but feel a sense of victory as you dove back in to bite onto his bicep again, feeling the muscle underneath your teeth. it made your jaw hurt a bit, your eyes finding his as he looked over at you in awe, a hand reaching over to ruffle your hair up while you were nibbling on his skin, leaving behind visible love bites.
âyouâd make a sick vampire.â he chuckled lowly, his voice having gotten weaker. he was clearly enjoying it, your eyes instinctively trailing down to his pants, seeing the consequence of your biting.
âyou like my arms that much, huh?â rafe obviously knew the answer to that, grabbing you as soon as you pulled away, flipping you around so now your back was flush against his chest. âthen⌠you wouldnât mind if i were to do this?â one arm came to gently wrap around your neck, making sure to not be tight but firm enough for your face to be squished by his bicep as he flexed. oh you could just squeal, heart skipping a beat as you tried to move your head down in this impossible position and take another nibble of his arm.
âso hungry.â rafe spoke, his other arm coming to wrap around your middle so you were all snug against him, not planning on letting you go anytime sooner.
#sun.works â
#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#would be chewing on those arms day and night
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Sluggo from The Little Lion Foundation in Long Beach, California
Click here for more information about adoption and other ways to help!
Click here for a link to The Little Lion Foundation's main website.
Let's say you're this cat - your name's Sluggo- and that the Universe has put your nine lives through some heavy-duty hard luck, followed by a spin cycle of neglect. But you survive it. You carry the scars of your terrible journey. Anyone can see it in the mangled ear, along the outlines of old battle scars around the head and neck, but don't let that fool you because this cat is a LOVER.
Feel him relax when your fingertips begin to scratch the underside of his chin. Listen to the extravagant purring as he eats his dinner. Watch his paws knead the air as he enjoys your touch. Sluggo is a gentle boy that will bring eternal joy and love to your heart and home.
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You fling yourself around the corner, catching the door frame with your hand to stay upright. Shinso doesn't jump; he heard you stomping from all the way down the hall.
"I'm late."
He doesn't look up from his duffle bag. He's arranging the clothes carefully, placing each rolled sock in a row. "How late?"
"No, like-" You roll your hands in the air expectantly. "Period late."
Shinso glances at your feet and watches how you bounce on your toes with excitement. With a sigh. he looks up at you, expression set.
"How late are you?"
You stop bouncing. "It was supposed to come last night."
Shinso groans as he stands, pushing off of his knee for support.
"But, it's different this time!" you insist before he can say anything. "I feel different."
He sucks on one side of his cheek, pulling a dimple into his skin. He's still boyish in his features, even after all these years. Carefully, he measures his words, saying your name ever so gently.
"I just don't want you to get your hopes up again just for it to be negative." He taps his house slipper against his bag. "Because you'll end up testing again the next day, then the next day, just make sure it's really negative-"
"Hitoshi-"
"I just don't want you to break your heart again."
This song and dance must be getting old for him. Every month, you get excited, only to see that little line once again. Hitoshi's right: it always breaks your heart.
You think, maybe, he mourns it too. Silently. Privately. It's hard to tell. He's not like you. He's not expressive or outspoken, but je's always there to hold your hand and try again.
"Let's just wait a couple days." Hitoshi, as if he knows what you're thinking, reaching up and takes your hand. "If you're still late, I'll buy you as many tests as you want."
You swallow down your disappointment.
"How many days?"
"When I come back from this mission." He counts on his fingers. "Three days?"
"Three days? I'm supposed to not know if I'm pregnant for three days?"
Hitoshi shrugs and kneels back down, tending to his things. "Some people don't know they're pregnant the whole pregnancy."
"That's different and you know it."
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â・Ëŕ¨ŕ§Ë・â â Summary: Gojo Satoru fucks you at a punishing pace deep within the public restrooms. You poor thing~ âĄ
Gojo knew how to bully that sweet body of yours, knew how to make your eyes roll back as you begged for him to slow down. He had you in such a mean mating press, your legs swung over his shoulders, dangling helplessly in the air. Your body folded as he pressed his muscular frame against yours, roughly fucking his fat cock into that tight little cunny of yours, stretching you out so beautifully.
âSâtoo~, Satoooru~ fâwlease~...Mnâhurts~ Sloâw d-dooown!!~â
But your body was so honest, your face giving you away as you made the sluttiest moans while looking at him- your tongue lolling from the side of your mouth. You were drooling all over yourself, you poor thingâŚ
The sorcerer smirked, his hand tangling in your hair tighter, making your scalp ache before slamming his hips forward⌠His other hand going for your throat as his pace grew more brutal, more savage. The way he was using you was nothing short of animalistic- fucking you as if you were nothing more than a mere glory hole, his cock reaching all the way into your womb as his heavy balls slapped against your ass.
âYâer body has gotten quite honest, hasnât it? Begging me to slow down while that cute pussy tries and milks me for all I am worth⌠I can feel ya tightening around me, you know?â He gives a light chuckle, âYâer strangling my cock so nicely, Princess.â he gives a grunt, hips jerking up into your fluttering cunt, âand making such a mess- squirting everywhere like the little slut you are for me.â
âNy-noooo, S-sayoruu~ m-my puss-ssy cannn-nnnt, c-cannnn~t take anym-mooorre~, pleeease!!~â you sobbed as tears fell down your rosy cheeks.
As his thick cock split you open further, churning up your insides while rearranging your guts, his winter like eyes darkened, âYa can and ya will, because I said so. Because I know ya can handle it, baby girl~ so don't lie to me, hm? Not when your body is already screaming how much it loves this.â
Your fingernails bit into his arms, âToooru~, mnâ phâwease- pleaseeee~!!! M-my tummy- i-it feels like yet turning my insides shâout-~! Sâtoo deep~!!!â
You were shaking your head side to side, begging and pleading him with all your might but your deliciously stupid pussy was practically devouring his cock.
How adorable you looked.
Gojo knew, oh he knew well that you were getting off on being used, getting off on being put in your place, getting off on his words alone. Getting off to him filling your abused pussy repeatedly deep within this public restroom. The sound of your lewd body being clapped echoing off the stall walls, knowing full well anyone in the near vicinity could hear how you fell apart on his cock.
You loved this. Loved his cock. Loved being here for his pleasure~ Loved crying out for him as he spilled himself into you? His hot cum flooding your insides- painting your insides the prettiest of white as you made a mess everywhere with your womanly juices~
And he just adored watching his cum spill from your gapping cunt. How his very own seed made a mess between your thighs, trickling onto the public floor for some poor soul to stumble upon.
He smirked, âWhat a naughty girl you are, making a mess in public like this~.â
You were too fucked out, too exhausted, to do much of anything as you laid there limply. All you could do was give a tired, pitiful moan as his large hands spread your legs wider, exposing that used up pussy of yours even more.
You were going to make him hard all over again. Seeing you so fuckrf out, seeing the mess you made because of himâŚ
Leaning in closer, whispering huskily into your ear, âI donât think weâre finished here yet-â he licked your ear, making you whine pathetically, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your inner thighs.
His cock was already twitching to life again, ready for round two.
Oh and what a fun, pleasurable round two it was going to be~
#gojo satoru#Gojo#Satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#jjk#jjk smut#x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk choso#jjk fanfic
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velvet lies
pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter
âCash or card?â
âCard.â
The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. âHere you go, Miss. Have a good day.â
âThank you, you too.â The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. Itâs not that long. But youâve been here since opening and the shoes youâre wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you shouldâve broken them in more.
Itâs a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they canât do this or that.Â
A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour.Â
As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, youâre clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if youâre fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store.Â
Hustle and bustle is all youâve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. Itâs always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, itâs all worth it. âMama!âÂ
âBaby!â you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. âHow was school? Fun?â you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.
He nods. âMhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.âÂ
Your smile grows wistful, aweing. âWow, such a good boy, arenât you?â
You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. Itâs days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, youâre barely starting your second half.
You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself youâre doing it all for him, and to keep going for him.Â
Itâs hard, yes. But so is parenting.Â
The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. âSo, what did you learn today, baby?â
Koji looks up at you. âWe learned how to add! I helped Mina.â
âThatâs very nice of you.â
He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. âOh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. Thereâs gonna be food and music.â
Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. âOh, really?â you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. âThat sounds like fun.â
âMhm.â Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. âBut everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.âÂ
And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. âI know, sweetie. I know.â
âCan Papa come?â he frowns.Â
No, he canât. But youâre not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father canât make an appearance is because he doesnât even know he has a son. Itâs been a difficult conversation for you. Youâre not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So youâve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse youâve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesnât stop his curiosity and growing impatience.Â
The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.
He does. Youâve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, heâs an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from youâyour nose and helpful nature.Â
âWeâll see. Papa is busy, remember?â you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.
Kojiâs frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. âBut Papaâs always busy! I wanna see Papa.â
âI know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?â
âDo you promise?â
You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. âMama promises.â
After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store.Â
Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. Itâs also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.
Youâve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, youâre not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and youâre living through it.
Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.
Itâs around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. âThank you, Sana.â You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. âFor today and last Saturday. How was he?â
Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. âAll good, no tantrums today.â
âThatâs good.â you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food youâve meal prepped. âGet home safe, okay?â
âThank you, Y/N. Sleep well.â
When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. Youâve always loved routines, but you canât help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.
Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him.Â
Not now.
You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. Youâve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time.Â
You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesnât move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the dayâs events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.
Itâs exhausting, extremely so. Sure, youâre an adult and this is normal. But donât you deserve at least a little bit of time when you donât have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. Itâs worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldnât be feeling pity for yourself.
This is what parenting is all about, isnât it?
Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if thereâs nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.
Itâs then do you think, no, you do have one thing left.Â
Koji.
If Kojiâs gone, then you really have nothing left. Thereâs no reason to live if that happens. And with the path youâre going down, thatâs feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility.Â
I wanna see Papa.
Kojiâs words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. Youâre barely three letters in before his name appears and youâre clicking.
A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.
For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like heâs almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.
Why youâre crying, you donât know. It could be many things, but you wonât address that right now.
Gojo Satoru.
The father of your child, your ex of 4 years.Â
You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. Itâs stupid. You havenât been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.
He didnât even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. Youâre not sure if that hurts more.
Youâre twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, youâve reached a plateau. But him? Heâs thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group.Â
Youâre happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?
You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. Youâre extremely jealous of that bastard.
But right now, jealousy isnât in the picture. Itâs your sonâs father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.
Letting him meet his father.Â
âHoney, do you like your pancakes?â you ask your son whoâs currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled âyes, mamaâ. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual.Â
The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, heâd know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.
You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. âGood morning, Koji.â
âGood morning!â your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, heâs running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially donât miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. âGood morning.â
He meets your eyes again. âGood morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?â
âGood, and you?âÂ
âVery good.âÂ
The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Kojiâs school, his teacher. Although he hasnât outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, youâre a smart woman. âThatâs good. WellâŚhave a nice day.â Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness.Â
Youâre about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. âAh, Y/N-san?â
Damn it, what now? âYes?â you turn and look at him.
The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. âI have some concerns regarding Kojiâs behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?â
âBehavior? Has he been misbehaving?â You did not expect that.
âWell, itâs complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldnât. Iâd like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.â Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. âSo, will you be available?â
You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your sonâs teacher. But if itâs regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? âI think Iâll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.â
He nods. âThatâs fine, we can grab coffee.â When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. âAnd discuss Koji over coffee. On me.â
Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. Thatâs the priority. âOkay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?â
âSounds excellent, Iâll see you then. Have a wonderful day.â
With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldnât it? As long as this man doesnât try anythingâŚmore, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) youâll be in public, and 2) youâll tell him straight up.
Whatever.Â
âPizza or teriyaki?â
âPizza!â
âOf course.â you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because heâs a big boy. The grocery store isnât crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. Itâs 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. Thereâs been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, youâre moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Kojiâs favorites.Â
âMama, can I pick a cereal?â Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks.Â
You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. âOh, Iâm sorry.â As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes.Â
Immediately, thereâs a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock.Â
Oh, youâve got to be shitting me.
Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. âY-Y/N?â
It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friendâwell, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just moreâŚmanly.Â
â...Suguru, IâIâm⌠surprised to see you.â you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.
âOh my god,â Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. âWell, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.â His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.
âThank you, Iâm good. How are you? Your hair is longer.â you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. â âM a little jealous.â
He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. âYeah, been working on it. And Iâm good.â
Another pause is permitted, as if you two arenât very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. âWell,â he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. âWhat are you up to?â
âOh, you know,â you glance down at your cart. âJust some shopping.â
He also looks down, head tilting slightly. âAh, right.â With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kidâs toothpaste. âJust for one?â He laughs, joking of course.Â
You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. âUh, yeââ
âMama! I want this one!â Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.
WellâŚ..shit.Â
As if things werenât already complicated.
With Suguruâs eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features andâŚ..
âI-is thisââ
âKoji.â you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. âMy son.â
Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. Heâs not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. â...IsâŚ.is heâŚ..â
You nod uncomfortably.Â
He lets out a breath he didnât even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. âHoly shit, I meanâŚ.holy heck.â
Your lips purse, putting Kojiâs cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. âKoji, this is Suguru. Say hi.â
âHi.â Koji childishly smiles at the older man. âAre you Mamaâs friend?â
Suguru spares you a glance. âUhmâŚyeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.â He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boyâs hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. âSoâŚhow old is he?â The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. âIâm five!â He holds up five small fingers.Â
âFive?â Suguruâs brows furrow at you. Itâs surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. âHave youââ
âNo.â you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. âI havenât.â
âWhy?â
Thatâs a good question. One you know the answer toâŚslightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you canât exactly say why. At least not here. âIâŚ.I justâŚhavenât.â
Silence.Â
You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. âJesus Christ, I donât even know what to say right now.â Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. âYouâre going toâŚright? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. Youâve justâI mean, come on.â
Thereâs not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more⌠empathetic of the two. âLook, IâI know youâre probably going through your own things, butâŚâ
You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. âHereâs my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.â
Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.â You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. âOkayâŚthanks.âÂ
âNo need,â he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. âIâm sorry, I have things to do right now, but pleaseâŚgive me a call, okay?â
With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. âSee you, buddy.â Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.
Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt heâs about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe heâll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. Youâll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and youâll be left alone to rot in anguiâ
âMama?â Kojiâs small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. âAre you okay? You have tears in your eyes.â
âWhat?â Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. âNo, no, Mamaâs okay. Iâm not crying, justâŚjust tired.â
But with growing age, so is his perception. âAre you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I donât like him then.â
Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. âNo, baby. Donât say that, okay? Mamaâs fine. I promise. See? Iâm smiling. Wanna smile with me?â
Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. âYeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.â
âAnd I like it when you smile with me too.â
Maybe, this isnât too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldnât it? At least youâll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally.Â
You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, thereâs the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.
That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.
ButâŚmaybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really donât know. This situation is messy as fuck and itâs mostlyâa lotâbecause of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, heâll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. Itâs different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be.Â
Honestly, youâre a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that wouldâve been bad.Â
The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoruâs gripping the womanâs hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. âGod, you feel soâŚ.goodâŚâ
âS-satoru!âÂ
âYeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.â
He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.
He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. âBaby, that wasâŚso goodâŚâ she croaks out.Â
Satoruâs mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. âStay.â With a small pat to her hip, heâs forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really canât be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes, but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two.Â
In just a few minutes, theyâre both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. âWhat time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?â Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles.Â
âSame time as always,â he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. âYou know that.â
âI know, butâŚcanât you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.â
When he looks back down at her, sheâs frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, heâs pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. âCanât, baby. Maybe this weekend?â
Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. âSatoru! You here?â
Satoruâs brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. âWhat do you want? Iâm sorta busy.â Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called âbusynessâ.Â
Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. âNeed to talk to you. Privately.âÂ
âFor what?â
âItâs important.â
âSo just say it now.â
âDamn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.â
âGirlfriend.â Himari corrects with a scowl.
âYeah, sure.â Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the manâs kitchen.
Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. âSorry, babe. My driverâll give you a ride back.â
Once again, she frowns. âBut Iââ
âPlease.âÂ
His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. âIâll see you later, mkay?â Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows sheâs weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving.Â
âFinally,â Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. âI thought you guys broke up.â
âIt was a break.â Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. âAnyway, whatâs so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?â
âThat woman is not sweet.âÂ
Satoru smiles and shrugs, âShe tastes it.âÂ
A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. âLook, you should sit down.â
âThat good, huh?â he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. âAlright, shoot, baby.â
Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like heâs intruding, like itâs not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, itâs his best friend. And you, wellâŚheâs not exactly sure if youâre still friends or not. âWhat I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise youâll stay calm until Iâm done speaking, got it?â
Satoruâs brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. âOkay, I promise.â He shrugs again. âCanât be that bad, right? No oneâs hurt.â
Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. âSo, I came across an old friend today.â
âOh yeah? She cute?â Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.
Suguru holds back another eye roll. âYeah, she is.â
âNice, man.â the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. âSo what, did she make a move on you or something? Now thatâs crazy.â
âIâll have you know, Iâm actually quite favorable amongst women.â
âAre you now?â
âListen, you ass. No talking, just listening.â When he doesnât get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. âAnyway, I saw an old friend. AndâŚshe had a kid with her.â Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguruâs mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. âIt was Y/N, she has a kid.â
A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friendâs reaction. He doesnât look like heâs flipping out, but he doesnât show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.
âWho?â Satoru ends up asks.
His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesnât change, he replies. âY/NâŚâ he speaks slowly. â...your ex?â
Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten. âAnd she has a kid.â Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now.Â
âSatoruâŚ.the kid looks exactly like you.â
a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, iâll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isnât my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)
#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk fanfic#gojo x reader#gojo x reader series#gojo satoru series#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#satoru angst#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#x reader#jjk angst#gojo x you#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#dividers by /@cafekitsune#dad! gojo satoru#jujustu kaisen
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four-tune favours the bold (mv1)
pairing: max verstappen x alonso!reader [smau]
summary: having won his fourth world title, max finds no better time to tell your father that you're dating (and to maybe also get his blessing)
warnings: none (i think)
a/n: now that we finally have M4X (yipeeeeee), can we please get goatlonso back, preferably in the next few years (pls let the newey rocketship work)
[masterlist] [requests]
-> instagram
y/n_priv
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y/n_priv reactions after max told me he had told dad about us (he lied)
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blackdontcrack max stop sending your girlfriend into a heart attack, she's already getting one from your kids
fatherofthree she learnt that one from you and roscoe đ blackdontcrack HEY. my son is very well behaved
notnowinsnomore I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WONT JUST TELL HIM, IT'S NOT THAT HARD MAX
fatherofthree DO YOU WANT TO TELL HIM FOR ME đ¤¨đ¤¨đ¤¨ notnowinsnomore NO???? DO YOU THINK I WANT TO DIE??? notnowinsnomore IT'S ALSO YOUR RELATIONSHIP, NOT MINE
honeyhoney you've got to give him like 10 years to process that you're even in the same social sphere as his daughter...good luck man
fatherofthree thanks dan đ fatherofthree padel later? y/n_priv no? we have our date??? đ§đ§đ§ honeyhoney you beating up max now y/nnie? y/n_priv đđ
yourbff_priv babes ditch the men for me đ
y/n_priv yes wifey đŠââ¤ď¸âđâđŠ fatherofthree @/yourbff_priv stop stealing MY girlfriend yourbff_priv skill issue
fatherofthree
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fatherofthree stopped her from becoming blonde and still got kisses xoxo
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notnowinsnomore that second picture is exactly is what's gonna put you on top of fernando's kill list
fatherofthree no it wont notnowinsnomore yes it will inchident_no1 yes it will blackdontcrack yes it will honeyhoney yes it will ima5starmichelin yes it will buzzlightyear yes it will y/n_priv yes it will fatherofthree ok maybe it will. but fernando doesn't need to know
inchident_no1 your rendition of my heart goes on is truly...
y/n_priv truly what CHARLES? say it with your pussy fatherofthree YEAH WHAT SHE SAID inchident_no1 rubbish đ y/n_priv BOOOOOOO YOU'RE RUBBISH
y/n_priv
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y/n_priv PUTTING IT ALL ON BLACK! VIVA LAS VEGAS BABY 𤊠YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US AT THE MGM UNTIL THURSDAY MORNING @/f1
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inchident_no1 should've bet on red đ wouldn't have lost you 100k
spicysugarbaby agreed đ¤ blackdontcrack well i SEVERELY disagree since we won 250k on the next spin on black so.... fatherofthree I LEAVE YOU ALONE WITH THEM FOR 10 MINUTES AND YOU'VE ALREADY BET 250K??? y/n_priv yeah but it's an investment babe đ
antman can i join you guys? đĽşđĽşđĽş
y/n_priv not yet little kimi, in another three years (i think; i'll take you to the casino then myself âşď¸) y/n_priv and yes you too @/we_are_barebears we_are_barebears YESSSSS đ
f1 can i come over pls pls
y/n_priv of course admin â¤ď¸ f1 yay đ
-> messages
-> instagram
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yourusername feeling right at home here, dressed and betting on red
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user1 HOLY LORD MOTHER IS FINALLY BACK TO SERVE CUNT IN THE PADDOCK đĽľđĽľđĽľ
user2 the sexy spanish alonso genes are real with this one yourusername i would hope so! 𼹠user3 istg ive never seen a spanish person look bad in red
user4 GOD REALLY GIVES US Y/N AS AN APOLOGY CAUSE HOW DOES SHE EXIST????
user5 she's literally a goddess on earth user6 the face economy is unreal with her đ yourusername cant just be a nepo baby, gotta make papa proud đ
user7 super hyped for vegas now that you're here with us y/n đ¤Š
user8 hopefully we see another alonso top 10 (i can copium for a top 6) user9 he will literally dnf everyone if it means y/n gets to see him podium or win again (2023 was literally iconic) yourusername papa will be ready to make stroll do crashgate đ (but i've asked him to refrain for this weekend) user10 ya'll y/n's cooking đđđ
user11 ERM ANYONE GONNA BRING UP PIC 3 CAUSE....
user12 YA'LL GIRLIE I WAS GONNA SAY THE SAME THING user13 who's that @/yourusername 𤨠user14 who's that @/yourusername 𤨠yourusername no comment đĽşđđ user15 whoever that is do be looking fine affff user16 also probably fearing for his life, considering she's got like ten godfathers and then over twenty drivers ready to bash a man for her đđđ
user17 THE FERRARI AURA IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE đ
fernandoalo_oficial who's that princessa
yourusername i will tell you soon papa đ
maxverstappen1
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 suited up and ready to take on vegas. đŞ bring on the race đ°
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user18 STILL COOKING WITH A SLIGHTLY COOKED CAR, LETS GET TITLE NUMBER 4 đŞđŞđŞ
user19 literally salivating over pic one, cause he's so fine đĽľ
user20 waiting for "2024 fia f1 world champion is max verstappen"
user21 SIMPLY LOVELY PUTTING YOURSELF INTO A STRONG POSITION
user22 getting the ladies i see in pic two đ¤Ł
user23 he knows what he wants, and what he's going to get afterwards đ
user24 VIVA LAS VEGASSSSSS, GETTING READY TO RUMBLE
-> twitter
-> irl
as max stepped out of the cockpit of his red bull - his gloved hands trembling slightly - he could feel the relief coursing through him, palpable even under the thick layers of his racing suit and balaclava. the cold autumn air nipped at his damp skin, but he barely noticed, lost in the overwhelming rush of emotions.
after a very, very long season, filled with challenges both in and out of the car, he had finally done itâŚhe had won his fourth world championship.Â
as he stood there under the vegas lights, savoring this triumphant moment in front of the roaring crowd, his thoughts drifted to you.
throughout the year, your presence had always been a beacon amidst the chaos, a constant reminder of what truly mattered to him beyond the roar of engines and the glare of millions of fans. as he ran towards his team, his chest pounding and blood rushing in his ears, he thought of your earlier message, and his heart swelled with affection for you. he knew now was finally the perfect opportunity to share his love for you with the rest of the world.
as you watched max leap into the waiting arms of his jubilant crew, who slapped his back, clapping and cheering, chanting his name, you tried furiously to blink away the tears. your boyfriend had finally achieved his fourth world title, and he was making both of your wishes come true.
walking over to the other drivers, max felt the hand of another behind him. turning around, the butterflies in his stomach heaved once again, coming face to face with your father, fernando alonso. max's exuberant gaze locked onto the figure before him, and as their eyes met, max felt the familiar flutter of nervousness in his chest, a sensation he'd grown accustomed to whenever thinking of you and your father.
"max," fernando greeted him warmly, extending a strong hand. "congratulations. you've earned every bit of this championship." max clapped his hand firmly, trying to hide the slight tremble behind his grin. "thank you, fernando,â
max blushed for a second, as fernando leant up to pinch his cheeks, while also grinning widely at him. as fernando's gaze lingered on max, he thought for a second that he had found out about the two of you, and was instead ready to pull him by the cheek in for a very obvious threat and kick to the balls.
"i must say," fernando began, his tone sincere, "you've shown remarkable resilience this season. much like myself. i hope to see you continue working hard for many years," his words carried a hint of approval.
max swallowed hard, his mind racing, as he opened his mouth to speak.
âi-iâm dating your daughter,â maxâs heart pounded in his chest, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. fernandoâs expression remained jubilant, but there was a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes. the air between them seemed to crackle with tension.
âiâŚi didnât know she was seeing someone,â fernando said slowly, his voice low and controlled, as he waved to the crowd, whilst pulling max towards the other drivers. there was no denying the facts now â fernando knew about their relationship. and while max couldnât read the older manâs thoughts, he felt a surge of nervous energy course through him. would this revelation change things? between him and fernando?
as if sensing his turmoil, fernando turned back around abruptly, causing max to jump slightly.
fernando studied max intently, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "but i'm glad to hear that it's you max. my daughter deserves nothing less than the best."
with those words, fernando extended his hand once more, this time with a newfound warmth that spoke volumes. max grasped it firmly, sealing a silent pact between them. as they released their grip, fernando placed a hand on max's shoulder, pulling him in. "but listen closely mijo," he said, still grinning but his voice low and conspiratorial, "you mess with my daughter, and i will not hesitate to run you off the track or run you over. if you care for her, then show her that she's your number one priority, both on and off the track."
max felt a chill run down his spine at fernando's warning, but he also sensed a strange kind of respect behind it. this was a man who protected his family fiercely, and max wanted nothing more than to earn his place within that circle.
"yes, sir," he replied fervently, meeting fernando's intense stare head-on. "she is my priority, always. i promise you, i'll do whatever it takes to make her happy and keep her safe." fernando studied him for a long moment, searching for any sign of doubt. finally, he gave a curt nod, releasing max's shoulder.
"alright then," he said, "just remember what i told you. and welcome to the family, officially." as fernando walked away, max took a deep breath, his mind already racing. he glanced around at the celebrating crowd, their faces alight with joy and admiration, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.
but more than anything, max yearned to share this moment with you, to bask in the glow of his victory together and celebrate the love that had sustained him throughout the season. max scanned the bustling crowd, his eyes searching for a glimpse of your familiar features amidst the sea of faces. spotting you lingering nervously near the red bull personnel, he pushed through the throng of people, making a beeline directly for you. as he drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the look of pure adoration etched across his handsome features. his dark hair was damp with sweat, his broad shoulders still trembling slightly from the exertion of the race. but his eyes shone brightly with triumph and something far warmer - his love for you.
"y/n!" he called out, his voice ringing above the din of the party. pulling you through the celebrating crowd, he wrapped you up in a crushing embrace, lifting you off your feet. you melted into his embrace, pouring every ounce of your joy, pride, and adoration into it.
your laughter mingled with the roar of the crowd as max set you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your waist. he gazed into your eyes, his own shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. in that moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a bubble of pure bliss.
"y/n," max whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "i did it. we did it." he pressed his forehead against yours, savoring the warmth of your skin and the closeness that came with sharing such an intimate moment.
your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until your lips met in a searing kiss, pouring years of shared dreams and unspoken promises into that single, passionate gesture. the world around them melted away as max lost himself in the taste and feel of your lips, his body molding perfectly against yours. his hands roamed over your curves, tracing the contours he knew so well, as if mapping out the path to your heart.
when you finally broke apart, both panting for air, max rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shining with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "i want to spend the rest of my life making you feel this way," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "i want to wake up every morning with you by my side and fall asleep every night in your arms."
he reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small velvet box that had been burning a hole there since the day he decided to propose. max dropped to one knee, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration. the crowd around them seemed to hold its collective breath, the anticipation palpable in the air.
with trembling hands, max opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled within. the stone glittered under the bright lights of the track, casting glittering cascades of light across your face.
"y/n," max began, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him, "from the moment we met, you've been the driving force behind everything i've achieved. your love, support, and unwavering belief in me have pushed me to become the best version of myself, both on and off the track."
he paused, swallowing hard as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.
"marry me," max breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "become my wife. let's race through life together because i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and no one else, i love you,"
with a shaky nod, you sank to your knees before him, cupping his face in your hands as you peppered his cheeks with tender kisses. "yes," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "a thousand times yes."
max slid the ring onto your finger, and pulling you up with him to your feet. spinning you around once more, your laughter ringing out like the sweetest melody. the crowd surged forward, enveloping you both in a sea of congratulations and well-wishes, their excitement nearly tangible in the air.
as the celebrations continued around them, max pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss that left no doubt about the depth of his love and commitment. in that moment, surrounded by the people who mattered most, max knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of victories, both on and off the track.
-> instagram
yourusername
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yourusername I LOVE LAS VEGAS BABYYYYY đ but in all honesty, i'm so so so proud of you max (more than words or actions could ever express). seeing you grow throughout the past four years into the champion you are today, is more than any gift i could ever receive. there were far more battles and challenges from this season, but you rose above them every time. you are a champion, both on and off the racetrack and you will never be alone in this world, as long as i'm here. keep them coming baby. i love you, forever and always đ§Ą
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maxverstappen1 i love you very much schatje, thank you for always being there for me đ
fernandoalo_oficial i am very happy for the both of you đđ
yourusername thank you papa âşď¸ promise me you wont shunt into max next race? fernandoalo_oficial no promises sorry princessa đ¤
maxverstappen1
liked by landonorris, francolapinto, yourusername and others
maxverstappen1 four time world champion baby!!! a season full of challenges, but with the support, dedication and the effort of the team, this result would not have been possible đ a huge thank you to all involved for this incredible achievement đ
and i just want to say the biggest thank you to the love of my life, my girlfriend of four years, and now my fiancee, y/n alonso. i love you so much, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you (even if your dad wants to run me over now)
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yourusername i love you more than anything else in this world maxie đ§Ą
permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)
@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton
@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy
@fadingcloudballoon @princessminjikwon @chick-from-nz @nina-or-anna-or-nora
Š the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.
#â : my work.á#the-flaneur#smau#x reader#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 smau#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x alonso!reader#fernando alonso#fernando alonso x daughter!reader
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Size 14
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Nutrition Info: GhostxReader; Ghost develops an attraction to a massage therapist he's forced to see, hates it, and hates you for it.
CW: Headlock during imagined sex; Ghost Is Angry (and swears a lot)
The idea of a massage makes Ghostâs fucking skin crawl. It's not complicated why.Â
But the idea ends up having nothing on you.
Garrick wouldnât fucking shut up about you. Then Johnny and KĂśnig wouldnât. They even roped Price in. And then Ghost had a fucking shoulder injury that wouldn't heal right, and the fucking Physical Therapist had put in his official fucking recommendation.
You agreed to Ghostâs conditions over the phone â âClothes on, door open, and Iâll have my head covered. Not negotiable.â â and you were used to working with military, so maybe that was something.
If it wasn't... heâs done hard things before. Gotten around rules and procedures plenty of times before, too.
But then the day came, he showed up, and you took one look at him and what you didn't do was try to tell him to get on your table. Or the shiatsu chair that would put you at his back all the same.Â
You had Ghost sit in a regular chair. Then you crouched down just off to his side and you got to work on his gloved hands. Gave some bullshit excuse for starting there when it was his shoulder that was messed up.
And youâŚ. Fuck you.Â
You weren't scared of him.Â
It was like you met big fucks dressed as death with the light gone from their eyes every day. He could tell you werenât afraid, even though you never looked up. You glanced at his forearm and thigh a few times, even his foot twice, and that was all you needed to know how to adjust.
Apparently, even when he was fucking covered head to toe in thick clothing, you found him easy to read. Like an open fucking book.
So yeah: Fuck. You.
You asked him about the pressure twice, but otherwise, you were silent as you worked up his arms and moved to stand at his side to start on his back. You never leaned over him, never tried to get behind him. Your eyes almost never left the area around your hands, but you could tell not just where he had knots, but what hurt, and what felt better than he'd ever admit.
You got him to lean forward so you could get below his shoulder blades and didnât say anything about the fact that he was tight as a rappel line the whole time.
The third session he had with you, he ended up in the goddamned shiatsu chair. His eyes closed that hour, just for a second. Barely let himself blink after that.
The fourth time, he closed the door on his way in â always showed up right after you went in looking for him â and the sixth time⌠he layed down on the fucking table.
Somewhere that day, you find some knot, feel your way into some muscle, and he just⌠liquefies. He feels relaxed, didnât know he could feel that way anymore.Â
Something starts moving through him, like an echo in reverse, crashing and screaming and scraping louder and louder the closer it gets, and when he realizes it, he couldnât say how much later, heâs up and damn near bolting from the room without a word or a look back.
He shows up at the next appointment and hands you the completion form â despite the fact that his round of prescribed sessions isnât done â and tells you to sign and post-date it.Â
All you do is look up from the paper to his covered face, your eyes moving back and forth between his, glance at his fucking tit like you can see through to his back injury, then sign off without a word. Little tension in your neck, but otherwise nothing. No pity, no annoyance, no judgement, no fear, not of him, or apparently any professional consequences.
Just as heâs passing through the door, you tell him that if he wants to come back, youâll open up a spot for him. And you fuckinâ say it calm, like you know heâll be back. See you on Tuesday, Ghost.
He looks into you after that. Youâre a good person, as good as anyone comes. Don't even have any bloody parking tickets. You visit extended family in the north every year around the holidays, own an adopted dog, give to charity. You volunteer with vets, do the same thing you do at work for free. (When do your hands get a break?)
You become a sick sort of obsession. You crawl under his skin â that feeling of melting crawls under his skin â and his hate of you solidifies, turns into something slower and colder. He doesnât care that it shouldnât be isnât right.
Heâs back in your room two months later, and sees you at least once a month when heâs not deployed. Usually more.
You donât say anything the days he leaves your room hard, either.
Ever the fucking professional.
And then⌠one of the lads has to go and make a fucking comment. Doesnât matter that theyâre all two months into a dark operation and completely isolated the whole time, doesnât fucking matter. Because youâre as good as you are, because you read a body that isnât isnât even moving, without words, without breath, without a face to look at. Because you seem to know just what it needs, what it wants, what itâs feeling every second you're working it, like youâre inside it. Like you knew when Simon had finally come apart on your table. Heâd been able to feel it in your hands.
âYeah, but that's what I'm saying, innit? Just hypothetically, ok, imagine what else sheâd be good at. Imagine her with your cock. Right? Hands, mouth. Cââ
Stops fucking talking quick when Ghostâs size 14 boot hits the wall an inch from his face.
Because the problem is, Ghost already has been imagining it. Heâs been imagining it since you sat him down and made yourself small in front of him and your eyes jumped up to his as you went, just a quick glance, steady and clinical. Perceptive. Heâs thought about it obsessively. Has your eye color etched into his brain.
He also thinks about what youâd make of someone who could read you right back. How would you handle that? How much would it take before you went liquid, too?Â
Would you give in right away, or would you fight it, make him work taking you apart?
Would he want to do it again once he had, or would once be enough? Too much? Would he have you close the door to your room and fuck you against it slow, see how quiet you could be? How much control do you have over yourself? How much does it take to break it, and what do you look like when your seams are ripped open? When you canât think?
He has the thoughts, pictures every detail of taking you apart and ruining you. Pulling you right up to the edge until you can see him at the bottom. Until you think you want to dive in. Thatâs when he snaps out of it and the thoughts make him sick. Most of what he wants to do to you makes him sick. But he keeps having them. Keeps deciding to stay away from you and your fucking hands and your fucking room and your fucking table, stays away for weeks or months. Keeps going back eventually.
Garrick starts tossing around the idea of asking you out. Getting you to ask him out, because you'll want it so much you'll find a way to reach over professional lines.
You won't, though. You're not the type. You rely on the lines. You understand them, and he wants to yank you across until you canât put them back together or even find where they were supposed to go again. But is that because they keep something out, or keep something from getting out?
No, Garrick isn't what you need. Not even what you want.Â
Who could blame Ghost if he sighs, laying on the couch at his place one night, because he's gotten hard again? Or if⌠if just this once, he decides to touch his cock while thinking about you, just a little, just to test. Just through his trousers. If he ends up taking it out and lightly, carefully rubbing his thumb over its head, expecting this whole thing to crash down around him at any secondâŚ.Â
If he thinks about having you under him, pinned by his weight, his hand fisted in your hair, keeping your head back so far your neck is bowed while you're fucking sobbing. Or one arm wrapped under your hips with you face down to keep you angled, to keep you from moving even a millimeter, other arm wrapped around your neck, fingers digging into your back while he slams his hips into you over and over and over and overâŚ.
âŚIf, for the first time in a long, long time, Ghost manages to cum, and it's so fucking intense it makes his back arch off the couchâŚ.
âŚâŚ
âŚFuck.Â
Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Â
He has to stop seeing you. Has to.
âŚâŚ
He knows goddamn well that he won't.
He sighs again, bookending the shitshow, one arm thrown over his eyes. Definitely not thinking about where else that arm just was in his mind, definitely not already starting to picture it again.
He scrubs a hand down his face, stopping when his fingers grip his jaw. He digs them in until it hurts, holds them there like that.
Ghost looks over at the back of the couch, now a mess of cum.
He lays there, no sound but the quiet fridge motor kicking on, his breathing already gone back to silent, knowing he needs to get up. Knowing he's got a fucking mess he needs to clean up now, and knowing... knowing it's not going to keep holding.
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#simon ghost riley#simon x reader#cod simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost cod#cod#call of duty
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a favour from college!sukuna for teaching yuuji about female private parts? deal!
college!sukuna masterlist
Your house keys dingle from your pointer finger while you get your shoes off on your front door porch.
âHello, Iâm ho- what are you doing?â You stop walking, seeing a distraught Sukuna.
âThe time has come,â he tells you gravely, not looking up. His hair is a mess and his eye bags are darker than usual.
âWhat time?â You ask confused, pit patting toward the kitchen to make yourself a hot chocolate. You ponder for a moment with the cabinet doors open, thinking about whether to make him one too or not, finally shrugging and deciding on picking up his cup.
âYou know. That time. Yuuji. At school,â he deadpans, breathing hard between words.
âWhat are you even talking about?â You respond, still not grabbing the concept, swirling a spoon in both cups. You just get a grunt that sounds awfully close to a whine from Sukuna. Thatâs such odd behaviour from him.
âAre you going to faint? Do you have a fever?â You say, now worried, reaching his still crouching form. You gently lift his face with one hand, putting the other one on his forehead. The way he lets you do it, compliantly and so naturally, worries you even more. He just stares at you, a little frown between his eyebrows, eyes a little bit lucid and he almost looks⌠he almost looks cute.
âYouâre alright, big guy,â you softly say, booping his nose, getting your hands off of his face and hurrying back to your hot chocolate cups. He is definitely in a moment, because usually he would've bitten your whole finger off. He wrinkles his nose, scowling, before apparently realizing something and hastily getting up. He grabs your wrist and spins you around, but the strength he does it with whips you around so suddenly that you bump into his chest quite hard.
âWhat?!â
âYou do it,â he tells you, crazy eyes wide open. He puts his rough hands on both your shoulders, stabilizing you, keeping you close enough to be able to talk to you properly but not far enough you can get away.
âWhat the fuck do I have to do now?â You bark, trying to wriggle out of his hold, unsuccessfully.
âTeach Yuuji about your sex parts, Iâll teach him about mine,â he rushes out, pleading eyes turned on your face.
You gape up at him, stopping your movements, and you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. You raise an eyebrow, as if asking him if heâs serious, but his expression doesnât change. A snort comes out of your throat.
âYou mean to tell me youâre fussing about having to talk about vaginas?â You ask him, now full on laughing in his face. He pushes you a bit, releasing you and grumbling.
âIâm not doing it,â he tells you, crossing his arms. âI donât even know where to start! He came home asking me where the fuck the urethra is in females and I crashed out,â he shakes his head, distraught, your laugh still ringing in his ears.
âDo you even know the answer to that?â You smirk, turning around to put some whipped cream on your hot chocolate, and giving him his cup (no whipped cream: it's "too unhealthy" for him).
âWant me to point it out on your pussy, baby?â He scoffs, taking one big gulp of his drink.
You gasp, punching him in the stomach. He doesnât budge and his smirk widens.
âYouâre so crude. Thatâs it, Iâm not doing it,â you tell him, walking past him, trying to contain your laugh about how his face drops immediately.
âNo, wait- baby, you know I was joking,â he complains, following you toward the couch. Like a lost kitten following its owner when it hears the sound of croquettes.
âWhy canât you do it yourself anyway?â You chuckle. âAre you afraid of vaginas?â
âI wouldnât be afraid of yours, thatâs for sure,â he says, alluring, giving you a once over while you sit. He licks up a drop of chocolate left on his lower lip.
You scoff again. "Boo, bitch."
He tries a different approach. âYouâre smarter than me on the subject, youâd be better than me anyway,â The act of complimenting someone is taking a toll on him. He grits his teeth.
âWhat am I getting out of this?â You grin, getting whipped cream on your nose and crossing your legs.
âWhatever you want, baby. Please, come on,â he crouches in front of you. âI even said please, see? You complained about it last week and I listened,â he croaks, clicking his tongue on his palate. Being nice is harder than he thought. If he has to keep it up heâs going to have a heart attack, he thinks.
âYeah, because you want something out of it. It doesnât count,â you sigh, closing your eyes. He shrugs. âBut Iâm in. Iâm helping Yuuji on the big bad wolf his brother is scared of and youâre doing me a favor. Deal?â
âIâll always deal with you, baby,â he winks. He leans over you, swiping the tip of your nose with his thumb, proceeding then to put his finger in his mouth.
âStop with the double entendres!â
"Why don't you do this color?" asks Yuuji, next to you. There are 3 different shades of pink nail polish in front of you, and you've been thinking of which one to use on your nails for the past 10 minutes.
"I don't know, isn't it a little bit too pink-brownish?" you respond, tilting your head, pondering.
"Then this one. It matches my hair, so we could be matching!" the little kid says excitedly. Then he turns to look at you properly, the tip of his ears turning a deep red. "Only if you want, though," he continues, shily, averting your gaze after uttering the words.
Your heart squeezes painfully. "Of course I want to, Yuuji. I think that's the prettiest color out of the three," you say, ruffling his hair sweetily.
"Can you not stink the whole fucking place?" grumbles Sukuna entering the living room, grimace present on his face, barely nodding at Yuuji's wave.
"It's just a bit of nail polish, Itadori," you roll your eyes.
"I don't even know why you bother with that," he scoffs, going toward the couch, grabbing the tv remote.
"Because I'm pretty and I'm not a hater like someone else in this room," you throw back, scowling. He stays silent. "What, you don't think I'm pretty?" you ask, baffled. Sukuna side-eyes you, raising one eyebrow, before turning his gaze back to the tv.
"I think you're the prettiest," answers Yuuji in his brother's place, smiling.
"I can always count on you, Yuu," you coo, hugging him tight, and he chuckles, happy. Sukuna makes a weird sound, like he's actually disgusted about the topic.
"You know what? You're going to get some nail polish too," you say, pointing an accusatory finger in the oldest direction.
"Hell no," he immediately answers, glaring your way.
"Uhm, hell yes," you sneer.
"I said no, woman."
A light bulb figuratively pops up next to your face, and you grin, getting up and around the table to face him better. "Matter of fact, Sukuna, you owe me, so you'll do what I say."
He snaps his head toward you. "You wouldn't dare."
"Get your ass over here, big boy, you're getting your nails painted," you sing-song, doing a come here motion with your index finger. You see his jaw tick incredibly hard from where you stand, and he begrudgingly reaches you with his fists clenched.
"I hate you, bitch," he seethes when he's right in front of you.
"Can I get it too?!" screams Yuuji, bouncing up and down.
"Done," you say, delicately putting Sukuna's left hand on the table. After arguing for 15 minutes on the color, he only agreed to let you paint his nails black. If it was for you, he'd have at least 5 different colors on them. He hums.
"It's not that bad, is it?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows. "I think I did a pretty good job. Black fits your hands really well," you ramble on, applying hand cream on his rough finger pads. Actually fucking training will do that to you, he barked when you complained about his callouses a few minutes ago.
"Stop acting like I'm one of your girls," sighs your roommate, shaking his pink roots.
"You're my main girl, Sukuna," you smirk, sending him a flying kiss.
He gags. "Never say that shit again or I'm pulling out your vocal chords with my new freshly done nails," he says, mocking you in the last part of the sentence, tilting his voice incredibly high.
"Ohhh. You actually like them, huh," you respond, seeing through his bluff, smiling with your full teeth on display. He scoffs, looking over at his now black nails. He has to admit, you did your thing with them.
"Like is a strong word."
"So, you... love them?"
"Shut up."
#college au#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk fics#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic
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Fanboy
Pairing: Law x Reader
NSFW
Summary: You get a little more than you bargained for when you decide to clean your Captain's office for him and stumble upon his smutty fanfiction. Warnings: Very Mild Angst, Smut, Fem!Reader, Roleplay, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Minor Dacryphilia, Petnames (use of sweetheart and good girl) Word Count: 7.6k Notes: This was originally supposed to be a sub 2000 word silly one shot about Law writing Sora smut. As you can see, it very quickly got out of hand. I hope you all enjoy it!
You have come to terms with the fact your Captain does not and will never want you how you want him.
It was hard, at first, to hear his silky voice and see his strong hands and not imagine him saying what you want to hear as he holds you against the wall, fingers slipping slowly up your thighs to where you need him most. It got even harder a few years in, after he started wearing perpetually open shirts and coats, showing off the tattoos you so desperately want to trace your tongue across. But youâre finally starting to accept that he simply doesnât feel the same. His eyes donât linger on you when youâre around. He doesnât show you any leniency (not that you would expect any, of course, but itâs hard not to notice his favoritism for Bepo when he forgives him in an instant for a transgression he had you swab the deck for). He doesnât accept your help when you offer it, no matter how badly he needs it.
He just doesnât really want anything to do with you, or at least no more to do with you than anyone else on the ship. Penguin and Shachi, who unfortunately clocked your affection for your Captain years ago, have come up with a long list of excuses as to why he hasnât shown any signs of affection.
âHeâs shy.â
âHe gets embarrassed easily.â
âHeâs worried about the power gap.â
âHe only looks at you when you arenât looking.â
âYelling is how he shows his affection.â
And of course, your personal favorite.
âHeâs just a nerd. He doesnât know how to act around women.â
Shachi has repeated this one a lot, and as always you immediately dispute it. âThat cannot possibly be true, Shachi.â
âWhy not?â
âLook at him!â
âI know what he looks like. Doesnât change the fact he gets nervous.â
âCaptain has never, for even a single moment, shown any sort of hesitation or shyness in front of me. And heâs a grown man, a handsome one, not to mention a wanted pirate. You honestly expect me to believe heâs some shy little nerd who canât bring himself to talk to me? He just doesnât like me, Shachi. And thatâs fine. Iâm a big girl, I can handle it.â
âHandle what?â Penguinâs voice echoes in the small room he and Shachi share, which youâve decided to invade for the day.Â
âHer pining for Captain.â
âAh.â
You huff. âDonât say it like that.â
âLike what?â
âLike itâs likeâŚa fact of life. Something so easy to brush past.â
Shachi narrows his eyes in confusion. âI thought you said thatâs what you wanted to do. Be casual about it, and all.â
âYeah, I want to. It feels different when you do it.â Youâre pouting. You hate that youâre pouting.
Penguin gives you a pitying smile, dripping with good natured sympathy that makes you clench your jaw. âItâs tough, isnât it?â He sits on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift you too much. He pats your shoulder, tutting quietly. âItâs hard to get over somebody you donât really want to get over.â
âYeah,â you mutter. You finally lift your head, and once you make eye contact, his smile turns a little more teasing.
âI know a great guy you could use as a rebound.â
You sigh. âIs it you?â
He laughs. âWhoâs to say? You donât need him yet.â His smile softens again, something more genuine. âBut know that if you really do give up, there will be other guys. Other chances. Give this one a good shot, a real one, and if it doesnât work out? Come talk to us, and itâll all be alright.â
Shachi pipes up as well. âIt will work out, really. But if it doesnâtâŚâ he wiggles his eyebrows, and you canât help but finally give them the laugh they were clearly aiming for. Which becomes a full on giggle fit once they light up and give each other a massive high five at their victory. The room is warm, and you finally forget your worries for a moment.
âArenât you supposed to be working?â Lawâs voice cuts through you like ice, and your laughter stops in an instant. Shachi and Penguin are unphased, of course, still smiling freely.
âI just got off of my shift, Captain. I was going to take a nap, butâŚâ Penguin pokes your side, and you let out a soft squeak as you curl in on yourself. You donât miss the way Lawâs eyes narrow slightly at the contact, the way he seems to focus in on the noise. He must be annoyed with you, with how youâre taking up space somewhere you donât belong.
âIâm also off shift.â Your voice is small, embarrassingly so.Â
âI wasnât talking to you two.â Lawâs voice is just as flat and authoritative as always. Heâs nothing if not born to command. Youâd love to hear what commands he might give you, ifâ
No. Bad. Evil. Your mind betrays you, as it always does. You sit up so you can hide yourself behind Penguin, make yourself small and inconspicuous and hope that Law will stop looking at you with those beautiful piercing eyes. You donât know how long you can be normal under such an intense gaze.Â
âIâm on break,â Shachi defends, causing Lawâs eyes to shift over to him. You canât help but let out a sigh of relief as you feel the pressure of his gaze leave you, and you wrap your arms lightly around Penguin, allowing your forehead to fall forward and press into his back. You can feel the rumble of a laugh working its way through his chest, though you canât figure out why.
Lawâs voice is significantly harsher than before. âWell, end it.â You flinch, unused to him snapping quite so cruelly. Law may have a shorter temper than he would admit, but he never sounds quite so furious, especially not with Shachi and Penguin. He seems to realize this as well, because the next time he speaks is much gentler. âIâJust get back to work. I need everyone at their best right now.â
âAye aye, Captain!â Thereâs a hint of chuckle in Shachiâs voice, for some reason. He stands, bed creaking as he does. âYou can use my bed if you want to nap in here. Let Peng have his.â
You let out a soft whine, but peel yourself off of Penguin anyway. âNo, itâs fine, I should get back to my room anyway. I need a nap before I do anything else.â You think you see Law nodding in approval out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look at him, his eyes are firmly on Shachi, glaring at his back as he leaves. Just wishful thinking on your part, as always.Â
Penguin softly pats your back as you walk past. âChin up. Itâll all work out.â
âYeah, yeah.â
âWhatâll work out?â Law is staring at Penguinâs hand on your back.
âNothing!â You try not to sound panicked. You fail, of course.
His eyes narrow.
âSorry, Captain. This is a secret just for us lowly crew members. No captains allowed!â Penguinâs smile is relaxed and easy, and it almost manages to calm you down. You would love to play along, make a little joke out of it, but the idea of him finding out petrifies you. What if heâs disgusted by the idea? Horrified enough to kick you out of the crew, your home, your family? He wouldnât, you know that, but the image in your head is so clear. Your chest feels tight, your head fuzzy, and you think at some point you started holding your breath.
Law makes a noncommittal grunt, scowl still clear on his face, but he leaves. A small mercy.
âHey, take a breath, please. You look like youâre gonna pass out.â
âI feel like Iâm gonna pass out.â
âAre you gonna be alright to get back to your room? Do you need me to walk you?â Penguinâs hand rests gently on your elbow, and he looks ready to jump to your aid at any moment.
You give him a shaky smile. âIâll be alright. Anxietyâs never killed anyone. Probably.â You take care to walk as steadily as you can out of the room, avoiding eye contact with your Captain, whoâs waiting directly outside.
âYou okay?â His voice stops you in your tracks.
âYeah, Iâmââ You see the disbelief on his face. âIâve been better. But itâs okay. Iâll get there.â
âAre Penguin and Shachi giving you trouble? They mean well, but sometimes their jokes can go a little far. Iââ He clears his throat, eyes glancing away for a moment. âI could talk to them. If you need me to.â
You chuckle. This means he really has no idea heâs the source of your anguish. Good. âOh, no, itâs nothing like that. Theyâre actually helping me through something.â
He purses his lips. You imagine how soft theyâd feel on yours. âHelping you through something?â
âYeah. Iâve been struggling with it lately, and talking to them has really helped.â You stare intensely at the wall behind him, worrying that youâll come undone and say something you canât take back if you stare into his eyes for too long. Something about him just makes you want to melt under his gaze, and you canât afford to give in to the impulse.
He hums, eyes briefly fluttering closed. âI see. Well, Iâm glad you have their support.â Is it just you, or is his voice a bit colder than it was before? âIâll leave you be. Have a nice nap.â
âThanks, Captain.â You try not to run back to your room until youâre sure he canât hear your footsteps anymore. You change out of your boiler suit, desperate to be in something more comfortable than this, and throw yourself into your bed face first. You press your face into your pillow, trying to ground yourself. You arenât allowed to imagine what it would feel like to lay on Lawâs chest instead, his hands on your back, tracing meaningless patterns into your skin. You arenât allowed to imagine the warmth of the blankets as his, or the comfort of your weighted blanket as his arm around your back. You certainly arenât allowed to cry about the fact that it isnât him, and that it never will be. Because that would mean you werenât getting over him, instead getting lost in a fantasy of what can never and will never be. And you have no time for fantasy, despite what your heart keeps trying to tell you.Â
You dream of him, as you always seem to.
You could cope with it, if it were simply sex. If it were about nothing more than his cock and his hands and the way his voice penetrates deep into your bones whenever you hear it, turning you pliable and needy. But todayâs dream is one youâve had before, and one you always dread.
I love you. His hands are gentle as they wrap around your waist, pulling you close. I canât imagine my life without you in it. His nose nuzzles against your neck, tickling you and making you giggle.
I love you too, Law. I think I always have. Your hands rest on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating below your fingers, quick and thundering. You smile. Nervous?
Of course I am. Look at you. His eyes bore into yours, and you can see the affection flooding them. His nose brushes against yours, his lips growing closer, and his eyes flutter shut.
Yours shoot open.
No matter how many dreams you have about Law, you can never kiss him. How sad, that your brain can imagine a hundred ways he can fuck you and not one in which gives you the one thing youâve been craving most.
You throw off your covers and throw on a bra, not bothering to get fully dressed. You need some air, which is unfortunate, considering the Tang wonât surface for at least another day or two. You can at least go downstairs and find a window, press yourself against the glass and pretend youâre out in the cold of the ocean, at peace with the world around you. You can avoid passing Lawâs office, and hopefully that means youâll avoid the man himself. You donât want to burst into tears the moment you see him, and you feel too soft and fragile right now, like your edges are crumbling. Half of you is still in the dream, melting into fantasy, and being snapped into reality with a single look might shatter you.
You pad quietly out into the hallway, unsure of what time it is, not wanting to wake anyone. Itâs impossible to tell what time of day it is on the Tang when youâre underwater, lit only by harsh fluorescents that constantly buzz. Itâs peaceful, feeling the cold metal of the floors seep through your socks and hearing the quiet thunk of your footsteps muffled by the fabric.Â
âAre you heading downstairs?â
You turn to see Bepo, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, papers in hand. âYeah, I am. Why? Do you need something?â
âCan you run these to Captain for me? I would, butââÂ
You see him wince as he speaks, and you immediately know what the problem is. Before you can even think about it, youâre swiping the papers from his hands easily. âYeah, of course, big guy. Iâll take care of it.â
âThank you so much!â Heâs off in an instant.
You stare at the papers, willing yourself into reality. Youâre going to bring something to your captain. The man you have no other relationship with. Just doing your job. And afterwards you can go back to your room and cry all you want, if you really feel like you need to.
Law should be in his office right now, buried up to his neck in paperwork. It doesnât feel great to add to that pile, or to let him see you so underdressed, but Bepo needed help. You canât let him suffer just to avoid some embarrassment. You make your way down, knocking lightly against his office door.
No voice calls you inside.
Strange. He should be here. Maybe he fell asleep at his desk again. Youâve heard the others scold him for that dozens of times, and youâve caught him yourself once or twice. Heâs going to ruin his back if he keeps doing that. You crack open the door, ready to shift him into a more comfortable position, but you find your Captain isnât actually there at all. His desk is a mess, papers everywhere, a sharp contrast from the neatly organized shelves and minimalist look of the rest of the room.
âMaybe I should tidy up for him,â you mutter to yourself. Law hates asking for help with things he believes he should be able to handle on his own, but clearly this is getting away from him. And even if he wasnât grateful for the intrusion, at least it might lighten his load a little. Youâd do nearly anything to ease your Captainâs burdens, if heâd just let you.
Before you realize it, your hands are on the papers, your former fragility forgotten as you get lost in the calm that such a mundane task brings you. You start by simply organizing the papers into stacks based on their titles and a quick skim of their opening paragraphs. You donât read any further, not wanting to read anything not meant for your eyes, and you quickly find youâre able to organize everything into three neat stacks: medical papers, ship logs, and a third stack of anything that doesnât fit into the previous two. Youâre nearly finished when you find a title that makes you pause.
You canât figure out what What You Canât Have could mean, or what this bundle of papers is doing in Lawâs office. Skimming the first few paragraphs doesnât give you any explanation, until you start reading more closely and see a name: Sora.
Everyone in the North Blue knows about Sora, Warrior of the Sea, and everyone on this ship knows it more intimately than most. Your Captainâs fondness for the series and your fondness for him means you know it very well, well enough to know this is not one of the noncanonical (but still official) spinoff novels, or a novel adaptation of one of the comics. Thereâs a character youâve never heard of before in this, one that, if you were a more paranoid person, you would suspect is based on you. She canât be, of course. That would be ridiculous. But as you read her introductory paragraph, you canât help but notice she bears a striking physical resemblance to you. Same hair and eye color, same height, same build. But she canât be you. Sheâs described as seductive, enchanting, and many other things you know nobody would ever say about you.
You should put this down. But the writing style is so familiar, and so are the handwritten edits in the margins. Your captain wrote this. You had no idea this was what he did in what little spare time he has. You keep telling yourself to stop reading, to tuck it away and pretend you didnât see it, because really, you know he wouldnât want you to have seen it, easily embarrassed as he is. But thereâs so much passion in the words, so much care, and frankly? Itâs good. Really good. You think he has some real talent, in something you would have never expected him to even try. His care for the series oozes from every word, and heâs really good at building tension, andâ
Oh.
Your captain hasnât just been writing fanfiction about his favorite hero.
Heâs been writing smut.
Really good smut, honestly.
You lean against the desk, completely enraptured by his work. The tension between Sora and this unnamed woman is astonishing, every single word winding you up tighter as you wait for the dam to break. Before you know it, youâre fully bent over the desk, clutching the page in your hands, trying not to rub your thighs together at the very graphic descriptions of what Sora is doing with his hands. You imagine Lawâs hands, lithe and long, sliding under your shirt like Soraâs do under this mystery womanâs. You imagine his breath puffing against your ear as he instructs, be good for me, now, and maybe you can finally get what you want, just like Sora does. You imagine him moving impossibly closer, feeling his hardness press into your thigh asâÂ
âWhat are you doing in here?â
You freeze. Your captain is standing in the door, papers in hand and scowl severe. If you didnât know better, you would think for a moment his eyes lingered on the cleavage youâre showing by leaning over this far. But you do know better, so you tell yourself heâs simply observing the papers in your hands, even if his gaze seems aimed too high for that. You shoot up, papers still in hand, shirt riding up in the process, and god does it look like his eyes dip down to your exposed midriff in the process. But they donât. You have more pressing matters than your delusions, anyway.
âHi Captain!â
â...Hi.â
âIâUm. I was organizing your desk for you.â
His eyes linger on the three stacks of papers, humming quietly. âI see that. âŚWhy?â
âBepo had me run papers down to you, but you werenât here, andâand your desk was so messy, so much messier than usual, and I was worried maybe you were overwhelmed and I thought it might help.â Youâre speaking a mile a minute, clutching the papers close to your chest in some desperate attempt to ground yourself, but the sound of the papers wrinkling causes him to glance down and now youâre sure that just for a moment he was looking at your boobs and youâre far more flustered than you were when you began.
And even worse, he smiles. Itâs a soft, gentle thing, which sneaks so slowly onto his face you donât even know if he realizes itâs there. But it is. And itâs beautiful. âThank you, then. I appreciate the thought.â
Your grip eases on the papers for a second, and the crinkling brings his attention back to them. You donât know what gives it away, but with the way his eyes widen slightly, the way his lips part, you know that he knows what you have in your hands. The way he whispers your name, the fear in it, makes your heart clench.
âCaptainââ
âDid youâIââ He takes a breath, gathers himself. âDid you read anything you werenât supposed to?â
God, you did. Youâre halfway through a sex scene, flushed and flustered and thinking about your captain in ways that are wholly and completely inappropriate. Youâre panicking. You canât let Law see how flustered you are, canât let him realize that you were fantasizing about him, lusting after him in his office while heâs out like some kind of pervert. So, trying to turn this around on him, throw him off his rhythm, you decide to make a deeply out of character choice.
You open your mouth, taking a dramatic breath as though you're going to start reading aloud, and you can see the panic in Law's eyes. Before you can decide between reading and handing it over to spare him the embarrassment, you hear âShambles!â as the papers in your hand are swapped with the ones he walked in with. You're momentarily disappointed, before you look down and are struck with intense and all consuming delight.
In trying to get the fanfiction out of your hands, Law has, in fact, given you more of his fanfiction to read.
You gasp quietly, cheshire cat grin widening. Law looks at you with confusion, clearly still so thrown he hasn't realized what's just transpired. In your current state, you can only think of one way to inform him.
"Her hands were soft and gentle, so small compared to his-"
"STOP." He lunges forward around the desk, powers forgotten as he decides to bullrush you to get the papers out of your hands. His hands wrap around your wrists, and before you know it youâre pinned against the desk, chests pressed together, his leg pressed between your thighs. You flush, overwhelmed by the sensation of his hard body against yours, but he doesnât seem to notice. âDo you think this is funny?â
You open your mouth to respond, but his lips are so close, and you feel something else pressing into your midriff. You make a small choked noise, and his glare doesnât dampen.
âAre you trying to embarrass your captain?â
âIâuhâCaptainââ You can barely squeak out anything, and he presses closer.
âAnswer me.â
âYouâre so close.â
He pauses.
He blinks.
And suddenly your captain is across the room, face bright red, holding his papers in front of his chest like a shield. âIâum.â He stares at you a moment, his eyes moving from your face to your chest to your hips and back up, and suddenly the papers shifts down in front of his crotch.
He couldnâtâŚ
Could he?
Before you can process this, heâs speaking again, his tone far less authoritative than it was before. âHow far did you read?â
âUhâpretty far.â
You could swear his voice cracks a little as he whispers, âOh god. This isâyou were never supposed to see that.â
âI know, Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to keep reading, it was justâit was really good.â
He stares at you a moment, mouth agape. âWhat?â
âIt wasâI liked it a lot. I didnât even mean to start it, I just couldnât figure out what pile to put it in, and then I got really invested, andâIâm really, really sorry, Captain.â
âYou liked it?â His eyes are narrowed, looking at you like something dangerous, like if he shows a moment of weakness youâll pounce. He approaches you slowly, inching closer and closer.
â...Yeah. I did. I was really impressed, actually. I didnât know you were a writer.â
He scoffs. âI wouldnât call myself that.â
âWhy?â
âI justâŚdonât know if Iâm good at it.â He sounds small in a way youâve never heard him. Youâve never seen Law less than confident before. He absolutely radiates it, a constant smug grin and twinkle in his eyes. It suits him far better than slumped shoulders and wringing hands.
âAre you kidding? It was amazing. What I was able to read, anyway. I couldnât bear to put it down.â You reach for him for just a moment, your hand ready to touch his shoulder, but something in you pulls it back. You canât bring yourself to touch him, not as you are.Â
He wonât look at you. You can feel his regret in sharing, in allowing his mask to crack slightly. Thereâs a bitterness to his tone as he snaps at you like a wounded animal. âYou expect me to believe that? That you didnât just read it to laugh at me?â
You canât keep the pity off of your face. His first instinct is always to believe heâll be hurt, that an open hand is a sign of a slap, and not a kind touch. âWhy on earth would I do that, Captain?â
His shoulders unknot a bit as he thinks it over. You have never done anything to hurt him, and to tease in such a cruel way is not in your nature. Heâs not relaxed, not quite, but he isnât ready to run anymore. He leans against a nearby table, parking himself at a distance but assuring you he wonât go further. âI suppose you wouldnât. âŚSo you really liked it?â
The way heâs looking at you is so fragile, so soft. You feel your heart clench at the sight of such a guarded man looking so adorable, though you know he would hate to be called such a thing. You canât help the affection that leaks into your gentle smile as you look at him. âI really did.â
He huffs, trying to bring back up his walls, but he canât hide his relief, and his continued interest. âWhat did you like about it?â
âI thought the descriptions were very vivid. It wasâŚâ It feels like crossing a line you canât uncross to call it hot, but heâs looking at you so expectantly. âVery stimulating.â
Something akin to a smirk grows on his face, offset by the dust of a blush on his cheeks. His voice is an octave deeper when he speaks. âSimulating?â
You shiver. âIâuhâyes. The leads had really good chemistry. I never imagined Sora would be soâŚcharming. And I liked the woman too, though I have to admit I didnât recognize her name.â
He nods. âYou wouldnât. Sheâs an original character.â
âOh, really?â
âYeah, I wanted to try my hand at something new, and I didnât like pairing him with any of the canon characters so I justâŚmade one up.â
You shift nervously on your feet, thinking about how remarkably familiar her description was. âSo you made her just for this? Didnât even give her a name?â
âI havenât decided her name yet, but Iâm working on it. And yeah, sheâs just for this. Why?â
You want to be subtle, ease your way in, but your mind is running a mile a minute and frankly subtlety has never been your strong suit anyway. âSoâŚis she supposed to be me?â
He shoots up so quickly he nearly falls over. âWhat? No! No, why would you think that?â He looks absolutely mortified, like heâs praying the floor swallows him whole. He looks about two seconds away from shambling himself out of the sub and letting the ocean take him away.
âWell in her intro, when you describe herâŚshe looks a lot like me.â
â...She does?â He seems genuinely surprised, and you canât help but laugh.
âWhy are you asking? Youâre the writer! You didnât realize?â
âNo, IâŚâ Heâs blushing to the tips of his ears. âShe was just supposed to be a beautiful woman. I didnât think that hard about what she looked like beyond that.â
âShe has the same hair color and eye color as me, you describe her as around my height, and the dress sheâs wearing in her intro is my favorite color.â
His shoulders are so tense theyâre practically up over his ears. If his voice cracks when he yells, youâre kind enough not to acknowledge it. âI didnât think that much about it! I just thought of a beautiful woman and I described her.â
âSo when you think of a beautiful woman in your head, you see me?â
He doesnât answer.
You try to hide your giddy smile. âThatâs sweet, Captain.â
He avoids eye contact so aggressively you swear it must be hurting him at this point. âIt wasnâtâIâI didnât notice. You donât think itâsâŚcreepy?â
âThat you think Iâm beautiful?â
âThat I wrote porn about a woman who looks exactly like you.â
âOh. When you put it like that I guess it doesnât sound great.â He tenses again, so you rush to reassure him. âBut no, I donât think itâs creepy. Itâs not like you meant to, or anything. Or that you wrote about me and like, another member of the crew or something. Why would I be mad that I just happen to be exactly your type?â Your heart is beating out of your chest as you try to portray a confidence you certainly donât feel.Â
âRight. Yeah. IâThereâs nothing wrong with that.â
He didnât deny it.
âAnd itâsâŚgreat porn, honestly.â
Your delivery is so awkward the tension finally breaks as he laughs at you. âI appreciate that. I worked hard on it. But Iâm not sure on some of the descriptions.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âIâm not sure it reads as true to life.â
âDoes it need to?â
âNo, not really, fantasies donât have to be realistic. ButâŚI canât help but think about it anyway. What if part of it is so unrealistic it takes you out of it entirely, and I just didnât notice? Or didnât know because Iâve never tried that specific thing? Do you know what I mean?â
You do. You know insecurity in your work, the way it whispers in your ear. You know that words are not enough reassurance to silence those whispers. You want to help him, even if you donât know how you could.
âWhat if weâŚtested it? To see if itâs realistic?â You canât believe the words that just left your mouth. From the look on his face, Law canât either.
âWhat?â A beautiful crimson streaks across his face and up to his ears, heat radiating off of him.
âOh my god. Forget I said that, that was so inappropriate, Iâll just goââ
âNo!â Heâs so loud you both flinch, and he seems surprised by his own objection. His long fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you can feel his calluses brush against your skin. God, what you wouldnât give for those fingers to be somewhere else. âNo, donâtâdonât leave. I thinkâI wouldâum. Iâd like that.â
You blink. âYou would?â
âJust toâŚtest it. To make sure my writing is accurate. Iâm a perfectionist.â
âRight.â
âYeah.â His eyes flicker down to where heâs holding you, and to your surprise, he doesnât release his grip. He tugs you closer, pressing your chests together, and you can feel his warm breath in his ear. âAre you ready?â
âYes, Captain.â
âLaw.â
âWhat?â
The deep rumble of his voice is commanding in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together. âI want to hear you say my name. Call me Law.â
âYes, Law.â
You can feel his smirk as he whispers the next words in your ear. âGood girl.â
Heat rushes to your face, and you bite your lip to keep from making any deeply embarrassing noises. He chuckles as he pulls away, and you see no trace of his earlier apprehension or nerves. You suppose Law has always been a good liar, always putting up the front of the proud, confident, and unshakable Surgeon of Death. What is this but another part for him to play?
âHow did it start again?â He places his hands on your hips, leading you away from the desk and toward the wall. âShe and Sora meet up in the club, strike up a conversationââ
âCan we skip to the good part?â You hate how needy and breathless you sound. Youâre already worked up from reading, from hearing him speak, from being so close, that you think if you spend another minute without some kind of release you might explode.
He chuckles. âI guess we can skip forward a bit.â He presses you against the wall, hand sliding to your thigh. You shiver, but he stops right before his fingers slide under your shorts. âBut have you been good enough to earn it?â
You whine, a pathetic, wounded sound that comes from deep within you. For a moment, you see his facade slip as he swallows, trying not to give away how much the sound turned him on. But after a moment his mask settles back firmly in place, and youâre both ready to continue the game. âPlease, Law. Iâve been good. Iâll be good.â
His smile is all teeth as his fingers find their place inside of you. First one, pumping slowly and deliberately, curling to hit your sweet spot just right. He moans quietly in your ear at the feeling of it. You know his line before he says it. âDo you feel that? The way youâre pulling me in? You need me bad, sweetheart, donât you?â
He inserts a second finger right as you open your mouth to answer. âAhhâYes! I need you!â
He pumps harder, faster, and his other hand starts to wander towards your chest. His lips find your neck, nipping at the point where it meets your jaw, making you gasp again. His hand gently squeezes your breast through your shirt, and he can feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. He chuckles. âYes, you do. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can. You know it. Thatâs why youâre here, thatâs why youâre so drawn to me. On some level you know: itâs just you and me. Weâre all there is, all that matters. Isnât that right?â
âYes, Law! Yes!â
His free hand effortlessly removes your shirt, and you gasp as youâre exposed to the air, your back pressing into the cold wall. He removes your bra next, letting out a soft hiss of appreciation when he finally sees them fully exposed. âAs beautiful as I imagined,â he whispers, seemingly to himself. You donât remember that line.
His mouth finds your nipple easily, sucking and nipping as you threaten to come undone under his attention. His fingers are still moving, his thumb on your clit, building the tension in your body until you feel like youâre going to explode. Youâre so very close to the edge, close enough that in your pleasure you forget the next part of the story for a moment.
Until his fingers leave you.
âNo!â Your head slams back into the wall as you wail, tears welling up in your eyes. Law seems unaffected, pulling back from you as he slowly inserts his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste. The only sign that youâve shaken him is the clear strain of his cock under his jeans, desperate to be free.
His fingers leave his mouth with a pop, and he smiles at you, eyes half-lidded. âDid you think it was going to be that easy? That you would just get what you want, no questions asked?â
You whine, the sound filled with genuine despair. The room is silent for a moment as he stares at you, waiting for your next line, and you try to remember the part youâre supposed to play here. You just barely manage to grasp it, breathlessly saying, âI thought you were a better man than to leave a lady wanting.â
He slides off his tank top, revealing his beautiful tattoos to you. âOh, honey, this isnât about what you want. Itâs about what you need. And how wonderful itâll be, once youâre so on edge you can barely stand it, and I finally give in to you. Can you imagine it?â He pops the button of his pants next, sensually sliding them and his boxers down to expose his bare hips. âWhat itâll feel like, when Iâm finally inside of you?â
His cock is finally free, bobbing in the air as it leaks with precum. He looks painfully hard, and you swallow as you briefly imagine it in your mouth. Youâd give almost anything to taste him right now, but that isnât a part of the scene.
âYouâll feel so full, honey. Imagine how good itâll feel to cum on my cock. Isnât that worth the wait?â
âGod, yes.â
âGood girl. So agreeable.â One hand finds your hips as he uses the other to line himself up. âAre you ready?â
âYes, god, please.â
He slowly slides in, feeling the drag of every inch of his dick against your walls. He makes a strangled noise at the feeling, burying his face into your neck as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He stops once heâs fully sheathed in you, giving you both a moment to adjust.
And then another.
And another.
âLaw?â
You can hear him chuckle against you. âWhat, darling?â
âPlease, Law.â
He pretends to ponder whether or not to give in for a moment, keeping you in suspense, before he relents. He pulls away from your neck, revealing his extremely red face. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him cannot hide the effects youâre having. âWhat do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.â
You know the line youâre supposed to say next. She tells Sora she wants relief, wants him to move, wants anything that she can have. But youâre soft, and weak, filled with want. You cannot help but think of your dream this morning, what you were denied and what youâve always wanted. So you speak the honest truth. âI want you to kiss me.â
He stares at you for a moment, eyes searching yours. You see your own want reflected in him, an affection that makes your chest ache. Then a smile blooms across his face, one gentler than you deserve. The line he says next is Soraâs, but what comes after is all Law. âWhatever the lady wants,â he murmurs, before his lips meet yours.
The kiss isnât fireworks, or an all consuming flame, or any other way youâd ever heard such a thing described. It was tender, it was kind, and most importantly, it was Law. Youâd never wanted anything else. It finally confirms to you that this isnât a dream, that heâs really here, pressing you against this wall, a desire burning in him that only you can satiate. The lust is still here, the heat of your bodies intertwined, but thereâs something tender and real beneath it.Â
Once you both pull back, panting, you look into his eyes and know the scene is well and truly over. Now itâs just you and Law, breaths mingling and hearts pounding. He smiles at you, a nervous, delicate thing, his confidence left behind with the script. Heâs breathless as he whispers, âDo you have any idea how long Iâve wanted to do that?â
You let out a soft, unsure laugh. âIs that Law talking, or Sora?â
He brushes his nose against yours. âItâs all me. It always has been.â
You canât help your lovesick smile, dripping with a saccharine fondness you couldnât hide if you tried. You meet his lips again, a kiss with a little more fire, a little more desperation. You try to convey everything you canât say aloud: the years of yearning, the pain of thinking this moment would never come, the euphoria of learning you were wrong. Your hands press against his chest, his pulse fluttering under your fingers in unison with your own. You wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him ever closer. He lets out a soft sound, almost a whimper, at the feeling of your lips against his as you clench around him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and once again the air around you grows ever hotter.
âCan I move?â Thereâs a whine to his voice. âPlease.â
âPlease do,â you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chests together.Â
He needs no further instruction, thrusting harshly, hips rutting against yours. You can feel him struggle to hold himself back from pounding into you at a bruising pace. His hands grip your hips, his nails digging in as he clenches his teeth.
âYou donât have to hold back, Law. Iâll take anything you want to give me.â
He struggles to speak through his self control. âI want to enjoy this. I want to take my time.â Another deliberate thrust has you dragging your nails down his back, making him moan in your ear. âI want this to be as good as it can be for you.â
âThis isâahh!âalready better than Iâd ever dreamed, Law.â
One of his hands moves to your clit, his fingers starting a steady motion. âNot good enough,â he mutters. His lips find your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along its length, his teeth grazing your skin. You feel yourself coming close to cumming again, your voice growing louder, echoing through the room as you babble. You donât even know what youâre begging for, the words please and more and Law are all you can say, all you can think. There is nothing in the world beyond the feeling of him against you, inside of you, his soft lips and callused hands.Â
You expect him to rip away your pleasure again, but when he briefly stills, your babbles turn to sobs anyway. He pulls back to look you in the eye, take in the sight of the tears running down your face, and you can see him soften once again. His hands and hips start moving again immediately as he presses soft kisses against your cheeks, clearing away your tears.
âSorry, sorry, itâs alright. Youâre doing great. I wonât take it from you again, I promise.â His voice is filled with pity. âYouâve been so good, you can take what you want now.â He builds you back up quickly, his hips pressing into yours even faster than before. You can feel yourself about to burst, and you slam your lips into his, moaning into his mouth. The dam finally bursts, and the pleasure nearly blinds you as you clench around him, his hips struggling to keep moving with how tightly your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your orgasm is what finally makes him break, filling you to the brim as his movements stutter.
You bask in the feeling for a moment, both panting and dripping with sweat, his cock rapidly softening inside of you. Your head lolls forward, pressing into his shoulder, and you press a kiss against his sticky skin.
âWas it worth the wait?â He tries to ask the question in a teasing tone, but you can hear the insecurity underneath it.
âIt was worth everything and more.â You shift to wrap your arms tighter around him and nuzzle your face into his neck.Â
You can feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, gathering you up as he slips out of you. âAgreed.â He kisses the side of your head, an action so filled with care it nearly makes you burst into tears again. He tries to lower you onto something, making you pull him closer and whine. âI just need to set you down for a second, sweetheart. Iâll be right back.â
âNo.â You sound like a pouting child, making you cringe, but he laughs fondly anyway.
âAlright. A few more minutes. But I have to clean you up eventually, and then we need to find a place a bit more private to settle in, donât you think? Or at least somewhere more comfortable.â
You hum quietly, pressing your nose further into him. You can worry about logistics in a few minutes. Right now you just want to bask in his warmth, in this dream turned reality, in the absolute joy of your feelings being reciprocated. âI really didnât think you liked me,â you mutter sleepily. âIâm glad I was wrong.â
âI could say the same,â he murmurs into your hair.
You laugh. âShachi and Peng are going to be so smug about this.â
âThey are?â
âTheyâve been trying to tell me for years, and they donât get to tell me I told you so very often.â
âThey were telling you too?â He laughs. âWe could have done this months ago if weâd just believed them.â
âYeah,â you whisper, your eyes starting to slip shut. âYouâre worth the wait, though.â
You can hear the smile in his voice as his hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, luring you further into sleep. âYeah. So are you.â
Tag List: Â @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjayÂ
#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#one piece x reader#law x you#law x y/n#trafalgar law#one piece#one piece law#op#one piece smut
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I have a question, if itâs not too much trouble, but when d-16, babybee and a part of the high guard get captured by arachnid and sentinelâs troops and then taken to sentinels tower, is babybee placed in a kids playpen with high walls to prevent him from escaping and maybe some kids toys to keep him occupied, or is he being held gently but firmly by one of sentinelâs guards?
oh. Oh dear heart.
No :D That'd be way too nice of Sentinel :D Either option just aren't evil enough-
kof kof angst under the cut
Dee gained consciousness quickly. Hands tied and forced to his knees in the traitorâs golden chamber. A quick look around let him see half of the high guard- he felt a sense of relief that he didnât see Bee. He was still with Orion then, he hoped.Â
Then anger.Â
Anger.Â
Fury.
He wanted to kill. Images flashing in his head of how heâd do it. Slowly? Quickly? So many possibilities. None satisfying enough as they compared little how the real deal would feel. His blood thirst rose with each passing moment. He couldnât wait to extinguish Sentinelâs spark.Â
Soon enough he heard the doors open and the fucker paraded as he talked. Dee didnât listen. He looked at the ground, optics focused. Tension in the room was so thick he could lick it.Â
Only when he was closer that he bothered to listen to what he said.
âAh, D-16 what a tragic story youâll beâ He didnât look up Atop your leaderboard in your sector, secretly a traitor.âÂ
His blood froze when he heard a painfully familiar voice above him. Scared and small like it should never be-
âHeâs not! Youâre the traitor!â Bee spoke up to defend his friend.Â
His helm snapped up to look and his blood boiled at seeing Sentinel holding Bee in his arms. The sparkling clearly anxious as he tried to lean away from him- but was firmly held in place.Â
Sentinel smiled at Bee, poking his chest a bit too hard for it to be playful âUh-uh, they are traitors. All of them. Theyâve been working with the Quintessence to sabotage my expeditions.â He looked down at Dee with a grin that made him want to rip it off with his teeth. âAnd not to mention stealing a precious sparkling⌠have you no shame?âÂ
âN-none of that is true!â Bee exclaimed- If stares could kill, Sentinel would be reduced to ash as he wrapped his hand around Beeâs mouth and head. Hoisting him up so they could be at eye level, forcing him to look into his optics.Â
âOh it is! Everyone will say so when I execute them in front of all Iacon- especially when they learn the sparkling didnât survive.â He brought his helm closer to Beeâs, their foreheads almost touching âThis is my playground, little one. The truth is what I make it.âÂ
Dee slammed his feet to the floor and stood up. Sentinel let go of Beeâs face to look at him. Amused at getting a rise out of him. Deeâs optics stayed on Bee, his rage only growing as he saw his tiny servo reach to him. Blue optics wide and frame shaking slightly.Â
Sentinel casually angled his body so Bee couldnât reach him.Â
He was going to kill that blue fuck.
#transformers one#digital art#bumblebee#b 127#babybee au#sentinel prime#awsering messages#d16 and b127#tf one d16#tf one megatron#We all hate sentinel#tfone fanfiction#I like making him unnapologiticaly evil and bad#We all want to kill Sentinel :D#Angst
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Still thinking about yesterdayâs post and the dynamic that fucking snatched up my brain worms in a vice grip.
Reader who is perfectly capable, has a well earned spot on her team. Who has safety net after safety net provided by the mere presence of the rest of 141. So much so that she doesnât even remember what fear is. Living in that invincible bubble of âweâre the best because we look out for each other and weâre not going to let anything happen to each otherâ
And the day that bubble pops and you donât even realize it yet. A chance encounter with a KorTac operative and you stole his kill right out from under him. Made eye contact in a shower of blood, maybe even threw him a cheeky grin, high on stims as you were.
You didnât realize that youâd stepped outside the metaphorical bounds of your little safe zone, stepped right into the territory of a feral, untamed creature with sharp teeth and the scent of you cloying in his nose. A scent that made his blood sing a siren song of want.
Itâs not just happenstance that you cross paths again. (Not that you know that). Hes been seeking you out, taking mission after mission in a dogged attempt to see you again. To see if it was more than a fluke.
And his impatience, his persistence, is rewarded with the silhouette of you, breaking a manâs neck with your thighs. (If the man werenât surely dead, heâd wish he was for the crime of having your attention, of being smothered by your thighs, of being that close to your cunt.)
In your precious stealth gear, sleek and deadly, eyes sharp on the path ahead, not the shadow gathering behind you. He just watches you for a long while, soaking you up like a dry earth in a squall, letting you take root deep, deep within his being, in the place a soul should be. (Youâre better than.)
Heâs got your callsign now, whispered by one of your team members as their path intersects with yours. Narrowed eyes at the (too) friendly shake given to the hard mask covering your mouth and nose, the way your cheeks rounded with a grin beneath.
What was an interest has evolved instantaneously into an obsession. (Or devotion. Or love. Theyâre all the same to him, all the same kind of possession.)
He loves watching you fight as much as he loves watching you kill. Heâs hard in his tac pants experiencing it this close, getting to feel each unforgiving strike in all the openings he leaves for you - invitations you always accept because youâre his good girl and you canât resist, of course not.
He purrs when he gets you pinned to the wall, your eyes big, sparking with that animal knowledge that youâve been bested by a bigger predator. That youâve been won, claimed. To the victors go the spoils, and the only thing heâs lost is his restraint.
Youâre panting and squirming beneath him, and heâs hypnotized, unable to do more than press closer, press harder to get you wriggling against him. Moaning softly when your heel digs a bruise into his calf, how you go still with a sort of realization.
âAgain,â he rasps into your ear, âgo on, pretty little hunter. Keep going. Youâre so strong.â
But before you can, something over his shoulder steals your attention. Your eyes flick away from, where they should be. And he realizes that he been so consumed by you, intoxicated, that he missed the intrusion on your moment together.
In the aftermath, his gear smells like you. The place where he slipped his thigh between yours and pressed he swears smells like your cunt, heady perfume. Heâs breathes it in as he fucks his tight fist, high on the memory of your strength testing itself against his.
He imagines the scent of him all over you in return. Going back to those men with his claim in your armor, wishes youâd taken the blade with you, his blood smearing your gloves, your shirt, your pants, staining your skin.
He cums to that thought, thick spurts all over a grainy print out of you from the op he first met you on, milky drops on the ink that forms your mask.
Soon, itâll be reality.
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I feel like each of the 141 has a difference preference when dicking down their mate.
Kyle prefers to stay human, it lets him really get a good show while fucking into the pretty thing he managed to take home. Seeing how your skin contrasts to his softly colored sheets is more reassuring to him that you're his than any scenting could be. Also, he's a lighter sleeper as a human, letting him keep you in his bed if you try to slip out while he's asleep.
Price likes the little hint of other, as a sign of his age and experience. He's the only one of the 141 who can shift only a few senses instead of having to start properly shifting. Let's him memorize your scent while fucking you, all so he can let you have the illusion of choice by letting you go and "finding" you again later. Eventually, he'll make it seem like a bit of fate and offer you out on a date.
Ghost partially shifts, and that's the most he can hold himself back when it comes to you. Claws and teeth come out, drool dripping from his maw to your skin. He needs to taste you, to make sure you taste the same. Taste like his.
Soap is a dog and he will fuck you in full transformation because of it. This man needs you on the most primal level, so why not just fuck you at his most primal. It also gives him a better nose to smell your sweat soaked skin, a longer tongue to shove into you, better hearing to catch each and every whimper you make. He needs to consume you and the best way to do that is with his wolf.
At least, that's my thought.
As usual how does it feel to be so fucking right?
Gaz absolutely prefers fucking you as a human, it feels too much like taking advantage of you when he has his semi-transformed strength and the idea of fucking you fully wolf makes him itch a little. He's so worried about damaging you with his claws and fangs :( his poor human mate, he doesn't want to ruin you. We'll, not like that at least. That won't stop him from knotting you, that's a luxury he can't afford not to indulge in. He loves the way you squirm and complain about the stretch, shushing you with soft coos, promising it'll be over soon, even when he knows it'll be a good 20 minutes at least.
Price is old hat at transformations and after years of growing and shrinking it's worn on his joints, if he doesn't have to transform he won't. He'll indulge in the sensed his wolf-form lends him, pressing his nose to your pulse and getting himself drunk on your scent. His eyes are always dark, animalistic, when he drags his flat tongue against your sex, and you worry that the teeth he's hiding might bite too hard, but he hasn't hurt you yet. And the only scare he gives you is when he presses his hand against your come filled stomach talking about pups.
Ghost simply lacks self control around you. The man has the control of a saint, but once he gets drunk on the scent of your arousal it's over for him. He grips you with heavy clawed hands, his skin splitting with fur and his nose starting to lengthen, and it scares you a little. His breathing is uneven, but his hips don't stop moving even when his bones start to break and his joints begin to pop. His drool dripping onto you is the only indication you get before he's sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You'll have to take wolfsbane in the morning if you don't want to end up going through the same pain.
Soap though... Soap fucks you like a dog, literally. He'll hunt you down on a full moon and hold you down with big paws, murmuring canned tones from his open maw about how he can't stop himself. He's all instinct, all panting and howling as he mounts you and ruts his cock against your sex, uncaring what hole he fucks himself into as long as it's yours. He'll lay directly on top of you once he's knotted you too, licking your face in apology but you know he doesn't mean it because he keeps asking for another round.
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#captain john price#captain price x reader#werewolf au#tf 141 x reader#oh wait i forgot i actually have fucked up body horror werewolf headcanons
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It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.
Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.
"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.
Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.
"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.
"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.
You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.
"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.
"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.
It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.
Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.
"Did your phone die or something?"
You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.
"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."
A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.
"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.
Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.
"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.
"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.
"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.
"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.
"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.
"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"
You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.
"Let's get you ready for bed, then."
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk fluff
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Biker! Logan who spends his days traveling on the road but always seems to find his way to a specific diner with a specific waitress because unlike other places she smiles when he walks in and doesnât hold him in contempt for being what he is.
Biker! Logan who always makes sure he has a nice tip for her at the end of the night, who stays with her until closing because he knows the area is kinda shady and he can smell the fear on her even if she plays the part of the brave employee.
Biker! Logan who tells her stories of his travels while she sits enraptured, never having left her small little town. One day she asks if he could take her for a drive someday, and his answer?
âWhy not now, darling?â
Biker! Logan who swings you into his iron beast with one arm, careful to make sure youâre comfortable. He doesnât miss how wide your eyes get at the display of strength, an impressive swell of pride in his chest.
Biker! Logan who is far, far too on edge when your arms wrap around his waist, when your body leans against his back, when he can smell your body wash every time you move.
Biker!Logan who has to end the drive early, managing to drop you off at your house while being grateful itâs dark enough that you canât see his hard-on pressing against his jeans.
Biker!Logan who falls asleep with his nose buried in his jacket, inhaling the remnants of your scent as he fists his cock, damn near animalistic as he imagines itâs you stroking him.
Biker!Logan who makes it a regular habit of taking you out on a drive, relishing in your soft hands on his body, then cumming his brains out at the thought of fucking you on his bike.
#this was meant to be a full fic#but I felt bad about not posting anything new in a while#so have this :3#Robo writes#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut
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bull rider!ghost đť
having an uni bestie that's from a small rural town as someone who was born and raised in a city has it's perks, like getting to experience things you had never experienced before. and i'm talking about going to a rodeo.
crowd roaring as a new rider sat on an angry bull and got tossed into the air as the animal bucked fiercely. the first few wild dudes that you had seen were interesting. you know, the attraction of something new that you had never really seen before. but after a handful of them it started getting a bit boring, but your friend was cheering on so loudly and seemingly enjoying that so much it would probably be rude to tell them that you weren't having so much fun.
trying to find some kind of entertainment, you told your friend you were going to go and get a drink, because at this moment a beer looked like it would bring you some semblance of entertainment.
but you were wrong, because as you make your way back to the rodeo grounds, your eye caught a rider that was different. he had a commanding and charming aura to him, something that impelled you to look at him. well, maybe it was more that just the way he carried himself.
it was the way those jeans seemed to hug those thick thighs of his, how, with the help of the chaps he was wearing, they left little to imagination, giving you a perfect view of his ass. and oh what an ass! and his shirt... the way his strong and built muscle seemed to flex and ripple with each movement that he made.
when you finally made it back to where your friend was sitting - which took you longer than the way to the bar because of adoring such a man -, this mysterious dude was now on the chute, lowering himself onto one hell of an angry bull.
while the rest of the riders had caught your eye, there was nothing but anticipation inside of you to see him try to tame that ton and a half bull. and he did not disappoint, the beast beneath him bucking trying to get him of.
it wasn't just the way he has holding on or how long those eight seconds seemed to last when it was him on the arena. it was the way his hips swayed trying to follow the bulls movements, the way the bicep of the arm he was using to hold on became impossibly bigger with the tension, the veins that were proptinding on the hand he had up in the air, the glimpse of tattoos on his forearm as the sleeve of his shirt got pulled by his muscles.
before you ever realised, the buzzer had sounded, indicating that the time necessary was over and that he could now get off the bull. and when he did, you became even more intrigued by him and how fucking tall he looked and how he, amazingly, had managed to keep the hat he was wearing on his head the whole time.
seeing how entranced you were by this one specific rider, your friend immediately gave you that information that you were unknowingly desperate to know. "his name is simon riley, but they call him ghost"
"ghost?", you asked them back.
"yup, because of the way he rides, breaks records and then fucking vanishes. the public doesn't really know much about him or his personal life. and it's also a know fact that is hard to even get to meet him and talk to him" they explained. "oh, an also he ghost every single person that he fucks'
"hmm interesting", you hummed, starting to get into your head that as much as this 'ghost' seemed attractive and got you horny just from looking at him, he was quite unreachable and maybe a bit of an asshole.
"yeah, the man's a beast at what he does", they exclaimed, cutting your thought process.
"i can see, you don't need me to tell me twice", you uttered back.
"and he's actually a cousin of mine! let me introduce you to him'" they gave you further explanation.
you couldn't help the immediate 'oh' that left you. because you actually had a chance to talk to this man an maybe, maybe try to cham your way into those tight jeans of his. because an asshole has his charm, you know?
âË â§ âżď¸ľâżŕ¨ŕ§âżď¸ľâż ⧠âË
hope y'all enjoyed that, i just pulled this out of my pussy.
no smut just pure hornyness. anyways, save a horse ride a cowboy or sum
#cod#cod headcanons#cod smut#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod ghost#ghost smut#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#ghost x gn reader#ghost x gender neutral reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x gender neutral reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x gn reader
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