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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago

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What’s In a Name?

Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.

Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI

Length: 9K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

Bradley loved hearing you say his name.

He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.

There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips.

He loved hearing it every chance he could.

He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.

BradleyBradleyBradley

He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.

He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store.

He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.

Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.

You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.

Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.

“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”

“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.

“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.

He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.

“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.

“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.

He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost.

Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.

“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman.

“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I��ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”

“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice.

He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart.

“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.”

That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.”

You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later.

“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”

His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.

“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.

“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.”

She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.

“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.”

He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.

“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.

“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.

He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.

He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.

He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk.

Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.

You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.

What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend.

Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.

“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now.

“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”

He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.

Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.

“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?”

“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”

When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.

You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.”

And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.

He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.

There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm.

“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck. He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more.

He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.

The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth.

He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised.

When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.

The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands.

He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.

Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.

You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it.

Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm.

Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar.

It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.

“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?”

“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”

“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”

That was all he wanted.

He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.

“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you.

The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself.

He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.

Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment.

It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.

He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:

“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”

And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar.

He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:

“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”

And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table.

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.

After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.

He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:

“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”

And then he would find himself seated at the piano.

To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’.

To you he was Bradley.

Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.

Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.

There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.

You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on.

Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.

He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.

Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.

You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.

Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.

Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing.

And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.

The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.

He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room.

Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.

Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.

Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs.

His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched.

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze.

And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.

Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on.

The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.

You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.

You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.

It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.

Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.

There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it.

You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet.

And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself.

You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.

Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:

Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!

In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance.

You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of.

You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.

Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.

Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.

You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.

While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.

You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.

“Hey, kid.”

And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy.

“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.

You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.

“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”

“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior.

“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you.

You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.

“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.

“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”

The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.

“Bradley.”

You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.”

The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco.

He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.

You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something.

That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.

It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.

However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.

He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible. And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either.

He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.

“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.

He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.

“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.”

“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.

You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”

“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.

“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.

“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.

“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”

Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him.

He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.

There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.

How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?

He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his.

He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.

He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his.

He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.

What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.

You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.

You were his sweet girl.

“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed.

He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.

“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him.

Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse.

Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.

His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured.

His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.

He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him.

“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”

Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.

“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.

Yet another offering to his bedroom floor.

And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties.

He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”

You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.

He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want.

“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.

Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach.

“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder.

“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild.

“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.

It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.”

He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.

He will never get tired of watching you fall apart.

He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed.

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself.

He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition.

But you make him feel good.

No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.

He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.

“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.

“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him.

“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?”

“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

“Did you think about it? Think about me?”

He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him.

“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”

Good.

“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.

He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.

He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.

It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder.

He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.

You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.

He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.

“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”

Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed.

“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.

He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.

“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.”

Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him.

Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.

“I want you inside me.”

Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center.

And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips.

He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.

“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down.

Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye. He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.

“R-ooster.”

The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again.

He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.

“Say my name.”

He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.

“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.

If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you.

He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.

The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.

“Say my name,” he coaxes again.

He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.

“Bradshaw,” you counter.

Closer, but still not what he wants to hear.

His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.

Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most.

He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.

You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.

“You want this cock?” he rasps.

He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.

“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”

That makes you whine.

“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.

He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.

“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.”

He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.

“Bradley!” you cry out.

He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out.

Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”

Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.

He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.

“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

His name.

The only thing he wanted running through your mind.

His name.

The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you.

“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.

Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you.

“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.

“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.

Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.

You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had.

His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.

He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep.

He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm.

Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.

You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.

“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat.

He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.

“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth.

“Bradley, please.”

He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.

“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.”

He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.

And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.

Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you.

It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.

A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.

Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.

“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.

Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom.

“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.

“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.

True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.

Much better.

He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder.

“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone.

Up the side of his neck.

He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.

“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.

The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.

And then you’re giggling.

“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”

Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.

“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.

“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.”

If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.

He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.

“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”

And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.

Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name.

Over, and over, and over again.

A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.

His bed. Your bed. Their bed.

It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.

Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere.

He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off.

There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.

He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways.

You would always be worth the wait.

The packages that were delivered to the door?

His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.

The name signed on the lease for the condo?

His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him.

The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand?

His, for now, but always meant to be yours.

You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!

Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead!

Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!

You can check my other fics out here!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks @starryeyedstories

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic

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tootiecakes234 · 8 months ago

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Katsuki’s birthday

“Katsuki Bakugo, if your ass isn’t ready in the next 15 minutes, you’re gonna be sleeping at Eijirou’s house the rest of the week cuz you WONT be allowed in this house!” You tell him with pointed look.

“I told you, you shitty woman, that I don’t want to go to some stupid birthday brunch. I want to stay home and I want YOU to cook for me while I do nothing. It’s my fucking birthday.” He shouts back.

“But that’s what we did last year! And the year before that!” You try reasoning with him.

“Yeah it’s called tradition” he says even as he stands up and starts walking over to his closet.

“Well, love muffin, traditions were meant to be broken.” You go up to him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“What the hell ever. I’m not paying for a damn thing and I’m ordering the most expensive thing they have on this stupid menu. Don’t forget your purse.” He grumbles.

You’re dressed in a nice spring dress that’s a flower pattern and all flowy. You look so adorable and then you see Katsuki and hot damn! You forget how good this man looks when he’s not in a black t shirt and joggers. Not that he doesn’t look hot as hell in that but he looks edible right now all dressed up.

“Damn big man, you got a lady. If you do, I bet I’d do stuff with you that she wouldn’t dare.” Your voice oozes cheekiness.

“My girlfriend would put your loser ass to shame! Just last night she did this thing in bed-“

You clamp your hand over his mouth. “Ok ok I get it.” You can feel his smirk against your palm. “You always take stuff to far.”

“I always finish the shit you start.” He moves your hand and wraps his arms around your waist. “I like this dress by the way. The only thing getting me through this brunch is gonna be knowing I get to take it off later.”

He bends down and presses his lips to you.

You have to pull yourself away and grab his hand to pull him behind you. “Let’s go before we are late”

“You don’t think those shitty ass friends of yours are gonna be late too? I’ve never seen them be on time for a goddamn thing”

When you guys get to the car, you walk to the passenger side and open the door for him.

“My king” and you do a little bow.

“You’re so fucking insufferable”

The smile on your face doesn’t disappear as you climb into the drivers seat.

“Where is this place anyway?” He questions as your pull off.

“On the outskirts of town. It’s a place Eiji found a while ago. He said it’s 10/10”

“Oh fuck, are we really listening to recommendations from that red head idiot?? He would eat toast smeared with dirt if you covered it in protein powder.”

“ ‘Suki he’s not that bad.”

“Tch”

Eventually you pull up the place and you can see Katsuki looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Did you dumb ass get lost? This is not a restaurant.”

“Surprise!!! It’s an adventure park! They have paintball, laser tag and zip lines and stuff. They also serve food but it’s like snack type things but I though that’d hold us over til we get home so I can cook.”

You are wearing the biggest grin and your excitement it’s practically bouncing off of you.

“Oh and I brought clothes for you to change in to. I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise by telling you to dress casual….. do you like it??” You ask him.

“You’re proud of yourself aren’t you?”

“Very”

“I…. Fucking love it. Are those tools still coming cuz I’ve got ass to kick.”

You bound over the seat and hug him. “Yep they are probably already inside. I told Mina to get here early to check us in.”

He slides his hand over your face and gives you a small smile before you places a kiss on your forehead.

“You did real good baby. Thank you”

“You’re welcome hot stuff. Not let’s get in there and give those guys a taste of Pro Hero Dynamight!”

“Hell yeah!”

This asshole won every game you guys played except for laser tag and thats only cuz you guys cheated! But he deserved it, he was getting too cocky for his own good.

BUT by the end of the night, he had you feeling like the real winner🤭

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @sukunas-bratt @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989

#imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #drabble #bakugo headcanons #fluff #bnha katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #kacchan bakugou #bakugo #bakugou

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alphajocklover · 6 months ago

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Hey, um, I'm a really tall, really skinny gay guy. People have always told me that I could be really athletic if I wanted to, but no matter how much I eat I always stay thin and lanky. I guess it's just my metabolism. Could you help me beef up?

Maybe I just don't have the mindset for it

So, no matter what, even though you desperately want to, you can’t seem to put on any muscle. Trust me when I tell you that you’re not alone. There are tons of people who look at their body and wish they were different, and there are just as many who do what they can to change and find it's just not enough. That's part of why transformation blogs exist after all. The fantasy of getting your dream body without all the hassle. Some people say that those who have trouble doing this just need to work harder, or are lazy, but usually it has more to do with genetics and metabolism than anything else. Getting a body like the ones in my post is possible without magic and reality warping apps, but it is very difficult and not possible for everyone. So, your request brings up an interesting idea: what would happen if I changed you mentally and left your body alone? Would the right mindset really change that much? Well, let's see.

It shouldn’t be hard to change you mentally. I won’t even go into how. Maybe I used some magic, or nano bots, or something else from my increasingly large collection of jock transformation methods. Honestly the how isn’t really important to this experiment. It’s what happens next that we want to focus on. Because now, mentally, you’re a jock. I didn’t entirely rewrite your identity, so you’re still you, just a jock version of yourself. You’re dumber, simpler. You love sports and working out, and obsess about getting massive muscles. You’re the stereotypical jock… except you're skinny as a bean pole. The new you can’t just accept that of course. He wants to be huge. He works out like crazy, follows all the tips, takes every supplement and tries every protein powder he can find, all to chase the version of you he knows he can be. So… does it work? Does the new you get a jock body? The answer is fairly boring: kind of. An increased dedication to exercise and a passion for it is sure to make a big difference, and you end up putting on dozens of pounds of muscle, but since I didn’t change your body, you still have to deal with the genetics life has dealt you. You get huge, but you don’t get as big as some of the other gym goers. You’re a jock, but you’re not inhumanly massive. You’re definitely a total stud, but it takes quite some time for you to get where you want to be. I’m not knocking hard work and dedication, but they’re not the only factors and it’s ok to acknowledge that. You may never get as big as you dream… but that's not really why you do it anymore. You’re a jock now, and a real jock doesn’t just workout because they wanna look good, they do it because they love it! Because it’s their passion! That passion and dedication will take you very far, farther than people get on just good genetics. You may never be the biggest guy in the gym, but you’ll get big and enjoy every second of getting bigger.

Of course, that's coming at it from a more grounded viewpoint, and we’re not here to be grounded are we? You want to live out your jock fantasy, and as thanks for letting me do this little experiment with you, I’ll give your muscles an extra little boost! Looks like you will be the biggest guy in the gym after all! With both the right mindset and the perfect body, you’re going to end up a jock bro god. Hope you enjoy it bro! You're gonna have guys throwing themselves at you after this.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #reality change

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semyla · 6 months ago

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Training & Culinary Arts

Summary: A new routine has been implemented on your daily basis now, one was training Zoro and Perona to become stronger, but also making healthy meals for them.

Edit: Sorry guys if the first chapter didn’t make any sense I didn’t know how to write it properly, my bad everyone.

Days had passed and after things calmed down, a new routine has now began. Zoro, the swordsman had started training with Mihawk, Mihawk had ask you for help in the process of it.

You would do warm ups and exercise to help him with his body and help him to become even tougher. He had already told you how he train, which you expected no less when he told you he trained like a savage.

Sports became a big thing, playing basketball became a main thing. Baseball was taken out of the list, because Zoro had thrown the ball twice too hard and two fast, one hitting a window and another either to the forest or lake, and finding them had gotten Zoro lost.

"You are getting a lot more better now" You said bouncing the ball in position as Zoro stood in front of you.

"Really? Thanks, I only learning from the best" Zoro said smirking and carefully analyzing your moves.

The moment you try making a move Zoro makes one too, but a very bad one. He decide that maybe going at full speed and force he had be able to take the ball from you, for doing both of your legs tangled up making you almost fall. Zoro had panicked and grabbed you.

"Good job Roronoa, you just won a charge, a personal foul charge" Mihawk said as he had sat down watching the whole game, as you hang on to Zoro's hand (He would be lying if he said wasn’t ready to jump in when he saw you). You stood up from his hand.

"Sorry, you okey?" Zoro asked you, letting go.

"Yeah, but remember the rules" You said, and through out the game you won because he would shot the ball at the wrong hoop, Mihawk counted.

You stood aside to see Mihawk and Zoro training, while Perona flew next to you.

"You should be training too" You said turning to her with your arms crossed.

"Me? I don't need training!" Perona responded.

"You only use your devil-fruit, your ghost can't even affect Mihawk, even if he didn't attack you, what if he did? Or someone who had the same ability as him? Your power would be useless" You said.

Perona tries to use her ghost against you as. Petty attempt to prove you wrong, to which it didn't work. The ghost couldn't pass you, it was like a barrier only annoyingly surrounding you, to which you shush away.

"We start training tomorrow morning" You said walking away.

You discovered that Perona likes volleyball and a bit of tennis and cricket, she didn't like exercise a lot, so doing you made her a small routine to follow at least for 2 to 3 days a week max.

You also had to always make sure to never put Zoro and Perona together playing sports because they either start fighting or do something stupid, either way fighting was always in the middle of it.

Maybe trying to do a You and Mihawk team up vs Zoro and Perona was a bad idea, and changing it to Mihawk and Perona vs You and Zoro was a better idea, nonetheless the fighting still happen regardless what team they were.

~~~

Just as much as training became a big thing so did eating. Again food was a thing you needed to make sure was enough, but also enough for you to bake things outside of your daily basis and snacks too.

Long time ago you learn how to make this protein powder, as you grew up to were able to create a different versions of it and mastering on the making of a protein shake. You would give one of these to Mihawk once in a while, but now that the new guest.

You took Zoro to the kitchen, showing the powder and how you turned to protein shake.

"You know eating well would help you just as much as training" You said putting the shake in front of him.

He looked at it and questioning it.

"Don't look at it like that, try it" You said, and Zoro took a sip, immediately liking it.

"This is actually good, how do you make it?" Zoro asked.

"Are you interested of having more? I make this for me and my lover.." You stop talking because Zoro looked at you weird.

"Don't start. Anyway, I can teach you how to make the powder and turn it into a protein, this can help you to maintain a healthy body, I can even teach you how to do different flavors" You said, at first annoyed, but letting it slide as you talk to him.

"Amazing" Zoro kept drinking it.

"I think I had like to try more of this often, you got the receptive?" Zoro asked.

"Of course, you think you had be able to do it?" You asked, very skeptical.

"No, my crew has a cook" Zoro said, relieving you knowing now that he would

"Your crew? You never talk about them much other than your captain" You pointed out, remembering a few times he had talked about him and how Mihawk had suspicious he put his pride aside for his captain.

"You know mentioning my captain he would love drinking this too. The cook and I.. don't get along, but I doubt he will refuse to make it, especially if I get Luffy to try it" Zoro said, you listened.

"I'm glad, I hope they like it as much as you do, i thought it would be very sweet for you. You have almost the same taste as Mihawk, not too sweet" You pointed out.

"No, it's the perfect like this" He reassure you.

Perona enters the kitchen, your judgment looking for a snack to eat.

"Just in time. Perona I made you something for you" You said, putting the protein shake in front of her.

"Huh? What is this?" She flew over to look at it, her drink was pink very different from the one Zoro was drinking.

"Try it, it's strawberry flavor" You said. Perona looked at Zoro seeing how he was enjoying his.

Perona tries it, and her expression show how much she liked it. Later on she had a bagel you made, also protein based.

"Love, I made you something" You said coming in to the living room where Mihawk had a book that you had brought him form your trip.

"I saw the other two with the protein shakes you made, they seem to like it" Mihawh said.

"They did, I made your favorite too, would you like a bagel too? I made sure it doesn't jelly on it" you asked him, putting the shake in front of him.

"Not now, i'm not hungry" Mihawk said looking at it, you nodded and kissed his cheek leaving the room to give him some space alone to read his book.

#one piece x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #perona and reader #zoro and reader

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blues824 · 1 year ago

Note

Its 💗🌸 /Rosa / @toconolaw ^×^

Staff doing secret Santa with magic music arts teacher s/o! But some how teacher s/o's twk familiar which are chinchillas that gets a bit aggressive/ jealous!!

You requested: Secret Santa

The Wiki said Vargas is shorter than Sam 💀

Dire Crowley

The fact that you’re married to this man was mysterious enough. However, you had asked about a possible Secret Santa amongst the staff to add some more mystery to the pot. The rest of the staff members agreed, and so all your names were put into a hat, and you drew a name. You had gotten Professor Mozus Trein, and you immediately noted that you might want to go to a pet store to get some treats for Lucius.

One stipulation in this Secret Santa game was that you put a charm on the hat so that neither you nor your husband could choose each other. After all, you both knew each other quite well, so it would be cheating. After everyone drew their names, you immediately went to Sam’s shop with your chinchilla. If there was anyone who would have what you needed, it would be him.

You actually ran into Crowley there, and who his gift was for was rather obvious, as he was purchasing some protein powder. Once you had purchased everything you were going to, which included new inkwells and a crystal pen, along with catnip, your husband had extended his arm to you. You put your hand in the crook of his elbow, and your familiar hopped from your shoulder to his. It took years for the little animal to even let your husband touch you, but now it seems you both have to fight over him.

Leaning your head on his free shoulder, you spoke to him.

“I love you, Dire Crowley.”

Now, he had a bit of a quirk about him. He never says ‘I love you’ directly back. He says it’s ‘too simple’. Instead, he would say something poetic, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

“In the musical tapestry of our connection, your presence is a delicate arpeggio that dances through the notes of my heart, composing a ballad only the two of us can hear.”

With that you both kissed each other, starting to head back to his office, where the wrapping paper and ribbons that you needed for the gifts were.

Divus Crewel

Being wed to this man meant a life of elegance. He wouldn’t let you settle for anything less. That being said, you were also a professor at NRC, and since you were a staff member, you proposed in the staff meeting that you all do a Secret Santa of sorts. Crewel was all for it… until you put a spell on the hat that would prevent you and him from getting one another. You pulled Sam’s name, and you had to admit that you were completely stumped.

Luckily, your chinchilla has been around, and it learned Sam’s favorite food. That being said, you needed to go to the town below NRC to get the ingredients necessary to make the chicken gumbo that your friend loved so much. Your husband went with you, and a few people paused in the street upon seeing you both, such an elegant and beautiful couple, doing such domestic things… or maybe it was your familiar.

Now, once you got to the grocery store, you both separated so that you could get the things you both required. You had no idea who Divus had gotten, and he did not want you to know until the day you would give everyone their presents. In addition to all the stuff you purchased, you bought some dried fruit for your animal.

You both headed to your apartment, where you started making a huge pot of chicken gumbo. Your husband came up from behind you and put his hands on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I love you, honey~” You sang softly, before starting to hum as you put all the chopped veggies into the big pot on the stove.

The chinchilla you grew to love climbed from your shoulder to his, and all the way to the top of his head.

“I love you too, darling,” He leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, but the chinchilla sitting on the top of his head pulled a strand of his hair.

He let out a yelp of pain before removing the animal and placing it back on your shoulder, where it was giving him a death glare that could probably kill a very weak human. He mumbled about how jealous the familiar got, and you just let out a laugh.

Ashton Vargas

To be this man’s spouse meant that you probably had a very active lifestyle, or you knew where to duck away to hide from his “couple’s workouts”. Luckily, your chinchilla often took your place. Anyway, at the staff meeting, you proposed that you do a Secret Santa, and Vargas agreed with that idea. Even when you put a spell on the hat that prevented you from getting one another, it was fine. You pulled Divus Crewel’s name, and you had a few ideas that came to mind for your gift to him.

You had to go to town, however, and your husband did not like you going alone. He was a tad worried that something was going to happen to you, so you strolled down the street with your guard dog and guard chinchilla privileges. You decided to get Professor Crewel some gift cards for a new restaurant that has opened up recently. He told you that he was considering going, and maybe he could come back and tell you if the place is a good date location.

Ashton got Crowley, and so you both just went around town to see what he would like. Personally, you would have loved to give him a knuckle sandwich for pushing all of his responsibilities on one of your beloved students, who you viewed as your own children. However, you settled on getting him dumbbells, so maybe he would have a chance to catch the hands you’re going to throw.

Boarding the bus that would take you back to NRC, along with a bunch of students, the Coach that you happened to love pulled you onto his lap, surprising you. You were incredibly embarrassed as a few students started to whisper, but he wasn’t letting you go. Your chinchilla tried to bite him, but nothing came of it.

“Coach Vargas, if you don’t let me go right now, there will be consequences when we get home!” You exclaimed.

However, your husband broke out the puppy-dog eyes. A groan of annoyance made its way out of your mouth before you finally stopped struggling against him, and you resigned yourself to your fate.

“I love you, baby,” The mere amount of love in that sentence made you melt, placing a kiss on his cheek in response. A few nearby students, who you both taught, by the way, started ‘awwww’ing, making you even more embarrassed than before.

“Shush, you! Otherwise you all get detention and you have to help me grade assignments!” A smile was on your face as you made this threat, as you weren’t completely serious. This also made the students laugh, as well as your husband.

Mozus Trein

You two had grown close because of Lucius. Normally, Trein would never be interested in someone so young, as he was nearing the age of 60 and you were in your 30’s. However, your music lured his cat, and as you played the piano, Lucius plopped himself on your lap. A few years later, you were married, and you found yourself in the staff room during a meeting, and you proposed a Secret Santa so as to get into the holiday spirit. Names were drawn, and you had picked Coach Vargas.

Again, a few ideas came to mind on what you could get him, but a lot of them required you going to town. Your husband also had to go, so you decided to go together. Luckily for you, you were able to head to the fitness section and get what you needed. You also called into a high-end gym in the area and you asked if you could purchase a day-pass for a friend, and they let you..

Mozus headed to the stationery section of the store, and you had two guesses on the names he picked out. Your chinchilla was chilling on your shoulder as you made it through checkout, texting your husband to meet you in the square once he was finished. You then headed to the meeting location, enjoying the scenery and the different people that were in the town.

It didn’t take long for him to meet you there, and he also got some other stuff for when you both headed back home for the holidays. You had another Secret Santa thing going on with your step-daughters and your sons-in-law. The older professor took the animal from your shoulder and placed it on his as he held his hand out to you to help you off the bench.

“What a gentleman~ Thank you, darling.” You said as you stood. He lifted your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckle.

“It would be wrong to teach our students to be something that I’m not,” You both started walking to the bus that would take you back to NRC.

“I love you, Mozus Trein,” You said.

“I love you, too, Y/N Trein,” He answered, a hint of a smile on his face as you place a kiss on his cheek and go to board the bus.

Sam

You were not married to Sam… yet. It all felt like a fever dream, as he had proposed to you in the most casual way possible. You both had met at the first staff meeting, where he kept writing on the corners of your notes. However, your chinchilla was not exactly happy about how you both kept giggling with another, and it even bit one of his fingers. Time skip to now, where you had an engagement ring on your finger, your chinchilla is on his shoulder, and you proposed a Secret Santa amongst the staff.

From the hat, you pulled out the name of the Headmage. Sam could see the anger in your eyes, and he was snickering because he already guessed who you got. You looked like the only thing you wanted to give Crowley was a large stick up his derrière, and that just made him burst out into laughter. He himself pulled Crewel’s name, and his friends on the other side had a few gift ideas.

Anyway, you both headed into town and walked around, window shopping. It was like a moment in a Hallmark Christmas movie, where you both kind of dance around each other, laughing and not taking anything seriously. Even though you were yet to be officially married, you were in a honeymoon phase. Well, you were always in a honeymoon phase because Sam never let the romance die out.

To get back to the Secret Santa shopping, you purchased a calendar for the next year. It wasn’t anything special. You also bought some pens, muttering about how the old crow was lucky you weren’t going to shove them down his throat. Your fiancé just laughed it off and got some gift cards for Professor Crewel.

“Are you ready, my imp?” He asked after you checked out, holding his hand out to you.

“I wish this didn’t have to end… I love finally being able to spend time with you, love.”

“Who said we were going to go back just yet? I’m not quite done with you either…” He placed a kiss on your lips, and you felt a pressure around you that you knew wasn’t coming from Sam, but rather his shadow.

“You’re not the only one, apparently,” You giggled.

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meowzilla93 · 1 year ago

Text

Love Language with the Boys!!

I feel like its quite self explanatory in the games but I wanted to explore more into it so

Here is the primary and secondary Love Languages the Boys have!

Derek Suarez

Primary - Acts of Service!

This boy loves and needs someone to just make his life even a fraction easier

You need someone on your side boo? We got you!

Lets start the day

Are you a night owl and sleep in? Well, you made sure to make some snacks and prepare his workout drinks in the fridge the night before – gotta make sure muscle man is eating right and getting his protein

Early bird like he is? Sweet! If you both go to the gym you pack his bag for him as he is getting dressed, or maybe you’ll go ahead and make a quick breakfast for the two of you to get some energy before a work out

Not going to the gym? No issues! You give him a kiss on the cheek and hand him his protein shake as he leaves, then whilst he is gone you can start prepping a good after workout breakfast for him to come back to

Has he got work or meetings he needs to go to afterwards? You could make sure his clothes are ready to go, or maybe the papers he was reading through the night before are packed away into his bag

You’ve got the day off work? Maybe we plan a nice dinner surprise with his favourite meal

Or you order in cause it’s a Friday and its game night (GO TEAM SUAREZ) and you both aren’t getting much sleep that night

Oh you noticed his favourite protein powder is running out? Better put an order in and top it up before he notices (of course he notices, he is absolutely touched!)

Poor boy has gotten sick? You just know he doesn’t want to let that slow him down

Guess what you are doing?

You are one step away from strapping him down to that bed (kinky, but not really HE IS SICK) but he finally relents, so you get to nurse him now

Mama Suarez has told you his favourite go to home remedies to get better, and you make it all! Tea, soups, hot chocolate, you name it

He is going to know what it means to be taken care of

You have Dereks Day! But its not once a year, its once a month

He needs to have one day every 30 days where its just about him and letting him let loose

The Boardwalk is always a winner, but sometimes its just a picnic, or go to the water park, or go to the movies. Whatever he wants to do, its getting done

Secondary – Words of Affirmation!

I swear this man, LIKE ALL THE OTHERS, doesn’t understand when we compliment him or anything

So guess what guys

Daily Affirmation Texts

He really needs these ones

Just a reminder of how amazing he is, that he is kicking goals (pun intended)

That we are so happy to be with him

Just remind him that he matters, because baby, you really do!

Cove Holden

Primary – Quality Time!

So we know how much Cove loves just spending time with us

Its his favourite hobby, pastime, memory, you name it

Oh our favourite resident merman has a new fish?

You are sitting down and letting that man gush about it, telling you all about its species and what the care is going to be for it

You don’t even have to say anything, just sitting there and listening to him is all that matters

Hard day at work?

He just needs to vent to you, same thing. You could even provide tips (im talking like, hit them in the kneecaps advice) to him just to get him to smile and laugh about it

Some think that Quality Time means you need to give each other attention all the time, but not for you two

All he wants is to be in your presence, and you don’t even have to be doing the same thing

You guys have aced Parallel Play

The most important thing is making sure you are within each others vision and you Gucci

He is reading, you could be watching something on your phone

He is cleaning the fish tank, you could be there just listening to music and maybe doing a hobby of your own

He just wants your presence

BE IN HIS PRESENCE

Any time away is torture to him, every Step in the game literally explains that

Secondary – Gift Giving!

Remember how excited he gets over the orange shell? The poppy? The fudges? The windchime?

This man is so ecstatic that you thought of him WHEN HE WASN’T EVEN THERE

And you are giving him something that he would like, and you did it unprompted

Prepare for waterworks

Listen, sometimes you just need to leave it on his pillow to come back to

You got up earlier than him (shocker that one) cause of work, so as you are quietly bustling around getting ready, you leave him a little letter or a present on the pillow next to him

When he finally wakes up and sees it, there are tears, and then there is an urgent call coming your way

Because of course he needs to thank you for it!

Just be prepared that you will get gifts too. That’s his way of showing his love and care too

Baxter Ward

Primary – Physical Touch!

Look, I swear this one is so obvious, but in case it isn’t I will go into HEAVY DETAIL OF WHAT HE LIKES

See he loves being in your presence all the time, but it simply isn’t enough

He needs some part of him touching you, even in a minute way, he just needs it

Driving? You are holding hands, this is a rule

Walking? Holding hands or he has your arm draped on his all gentlemanly like

Sitting together at a function? Somehow you have contact

You could be holding each others hand on the table

Or simply linking fingers, even just the pinky finger (YOU MJST BE TOUCHING)

Linked ankles underneath the table

Pressed up next to each other so your thighs or shoulders are touching whilst talking to others

Home alone and you are sitting on the couch together?

Position A: he is laying his head in your lap, you will brush your fingers through his hair that is the LAW

You could always give him a small head massage, he would love you even more for it

Position B: leaning against each other, watching a movie, he will have his arm wrapped around you and holding you in close, you could hold his hand as well

Position C: You are lying on him. Oh he will be brushing you hair, but say you don’t like that, he is content holding you hand instead

Oh this man is a sucker for hand holding (have you read anything above)

But you know what would make him weak?

Giving him a hand massage. Or just caressing his hand, feeling his fingers, brushing them across his palm. The lot of it

Can say the same about his neck and head; you could just be caressing him, admiring him and his skin and softness and he would 100% be lulled to sleep by it

Or, if you do it the right way, something else entirely would be on the menu (play prawn-hu- gets shot)

He is making dinner for you? Gently hug him from behind

Come home from work? A hug and a kiss is required for this tired man

Is there music playing? Oh a dance is required. Doesn’t have to be fancy, just a chance to hold onto you and sway is enough for him

Kisses – lord this man would accept a kiss any where

Hands, cheeks, chin, nose, shoulders, legs (alright we need to get back on track)

But forehead touches are supreme

Sharing a hug, foreheads pressed together, just being in each other space?

His heart couldn’t be more full

Bedtimes? You would consider yourself lucky if you can untangle yourself from him

You are 100% wrapped up in a Baxter Burrito and you aren’t escaping

But if that’s not your thing, don’t worry he is respectful of that

At this point as long as he can feel your body heat and movement in the bed, he will be content

After all he gets all the touches during the waking hours

Secondary – I Feel like this is almost two, cause He does need Words of Affirmation even though he doesn’t believe in it half the time, but also Quality Time is a big hitter for him...

With Baxter, because he is emotionally stunted, there is only so far you can provide him in words of affirmation before he just doesn’t listen anymore

So these ones need to happen sporadically, and during very important moments

Like when he is really beating himself up, rather than tell him he is wrong, you just need to flip the conversation to be positive

Sometimes you do just need to give him time to process what has happened and let him come back to you to talk, and that’s when you can gently re-affirm the positives with him

Quality Time just links in with Physical Touch

He loves being with you, and just plain talking with you

If you are long distance, he just wants to make every moment count, over the phone or in person

And if you do that back to him, well then you are just the more remarkable person ever

Don’t need to be doing anything fancy, voice calling is just fine

Going for a walk and chatting

Trying a new restaurant when you are both together again

DANCING COME ON

Thank you for reading my TED talk.

A small part of me is sad that Coves is so little, but honestly mans gets so much screen time, the other boys deserve a chance to shine!

cough I do not have a favourite cough

#our life beginnings and always #olba #baxter ward #our life #olba baxter #our life headcannons #baxter x mc #olba cove #cove x mc #olba derek #derek x mc #love language #olba mc #headcannons

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ohnococo · 11 months ago

Text

Eyes On You | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x F!Scientist Reader

Summary: Sukuna takes a keen interest in you after a meeting discussing having him promote the protein powder you helped develop.

Notes: A one shot within the mma!au, though this isn’t part of the main canon of Fight Night. A request for @rosemaydone321

Warnings: public sex, mutual masturbation, rough sex, cum shot

You hated being dragged along for these sponsorship meetings. It wasn’t your thing: sucking up to clients, listening to them negotiate fees, nodding the approval you’d already detailed and reviewed with legal in emails over the product claims in the ad copy. That didn’t stop you from getting dragged along though. Kusakabe, the company’s marketing lead, absolutely insisted that you added an air of legitimacy to the product just by sitting there. You drew the line at his suggestions that you wear a white lab coat to these meetings. There was no need to give some performance of your job, because it was simply something you did and did well, not needing to add niceties or fakeness to bolster your accolades. Not like most of the other people in this room laughing louder than they needed to, smiling wider than necessary.

Not the subject of this meeting though. In lieu of making conversation and underhanded suggestions of sponsorship requirements or costs, his focus was on you through most of it, face unamused by his manager’s banter. He seemed much more interested in watching you squirm under his gaze. You aren’t exactly sure what it was he seemed to get out of it, brows raised, peering down his nose at you as he leans on one hand and waits for your side of the table to agree to what he wants without even having to be the one to ask for it. It feels like he’s judging you, staring into your mind at every little thing you were thinking. It makes it hard for you to listen, not that you really needed to. All they asked was that you “look smart” and “use some science-y words.” All your years of education and experience to be told to look smart when you were smart. It almost made you regret getting into the health and fitness business.

The only thing making these meetings semi-tolerable was at least knowing Kusakabe was good at dealing with these people, having done press management for fighters himself in the past before deciding it was too much stress for the pay. He had to put out less fires this way, now he just helped the company push protein powder via sponsorships and deals. Or in this case, a very important brand deal with a highly sought after man like Sukuna. His being reliable, and doing most of the talking, made up for you being forced to be here rather than where your costly degrees had given you access to. It still didn’t make his client-facing persona any less grating though.

Sukuna leans forward, picking up his glass of water on the long table separating you and your coworkers from him and his management, and Kusakabe makes a show of acting impressed by him to pay him a compliment. It was usually what these men liked most.

“God, look at the size of his hands! No wonder you’re a menace on the ground.” Kusakabe mimics wrenching an opponent’s arm back, but Sukuna seems to be too concerned with watching you intently to be plied by the praise. Though from how disinterested he seemed the entire meeting you were beginning to think flattery wouldn’t work on him anyway. Kusakabe nudges you, encouraging you to join in, “Can’t claim that’s because of the protein powder, can we?”

Sukuna’s lip curls into a sneer, and you feel a small sense of camaraderie that he was just as put off by the charade of it all as you were, though you note this was the first time someone hadn’t been taken in by Kusakabe.

You’d have to tease him for it later when he lets the facade slip on your way back to the more comfortable lab-based aspects of your job. He knew the product inside and out. Not on a chemical level like you, but he was knowledgeable.

You found his penchant for playing dumb exhausting though, and since Sukuna seemed to as well you take the chance to speak your mind for once. “Don’t be stupid.”

For the first time since this meeting had started, the large man across from you actually looks amused, lifting his head from where it was resting atop his hand with the smallest hint of a smile.

“Don’t mind her. You know how brainy types are, right?” Kusakabe deflects, trying to recover from his parried compliment.

That wipes the smile off of Sukuna’s face, and he turns his steely gaze to the man next to you. “She’s right. You were being stupid.

Kusakabe looks frightened for a second, with your new client’s ability to intimidate even without threats, then his business brain kicks in, forcing that fake smile back onto his face as he laughs nervously. “Of course I was!”

He was, really. A claim like that would be preposterous. It was already a stretch for them to try and act like any of the considerable musculature before you was due to your product anyway. A body like that wasn’t built by a year’s worth of free product and the promise of a sizable check…

From the corner of your eye you can see Kusakabe deflate a little, before redoubling his efforts with Sukuna’s management, having noted they were much more receptive than the brooding man who was the guest of honour here.

The meeting wraps up without further incident, except for you spending the majority of it trying to look unbothered by Sukuna’s unwavering gaze. As Kusakabe walks you back to your little hideaway many, many floors down from the fancy meeting room, he places a lollipop into his mouth in lieu of heading outside for a cigarette to calm his buzzing nerves.

“If I didn’t respect you so much I’d have asked you to show a little leg to make that whole thing easier for me.”

It catches you off guard, “Firstly, if you respected me you would have kept that little thought to yourself. Secondly, what are you even talking about?”

He twirls the sweet by its stick on his mouth, pulling it out to gesture at you broadly. “I’m talking about the sexy eyes you were getting the whole damn time. Typical meathead, thinking with his dick.”

“Sexy eyes? Do you mean scary eyes? He looked like he was going to eat me alive.”

Kusakabe laughs as he leans against the wall while you press your keycard to the sensor for the entrance to your floor, “Yeah he wanted a taste of you, all right.”

The door beeps, then the locks click signifying your entry was permitted. Kusakabe’s, however, is not, so he waves at you over his shoulder as he heads back towards the elevator, “I’ll let you know when they decide on the deal.”

“I don’t care.”

It was all the same to you, and while your interest might have been piqued despite the brutishness of being ogled for nearly an hour and a half, your job there was done. Whether he promoted the protein powder or not, or made an appearance in a few commercials or print ads, had nothing to do with you past this point. Hell, it technically didn’t have anything to do with you before, but Kusakabe was adamant your quiet presence made a difference.

When Kusakabe approaches you in the lobby three days later, walking alongside you as you make your way to your car to head home, you think maybe you might care just a little. Enough to see it through at least. He looks serious, disappointed even, feigning having to deliver bad news, before he’s breaking into a smile and patting your back the way he always did when asking you to celebrate a victory that wasn’t yours.

“We did it. Sukuna’s team is signed on.”

“You did it.” You assert. No amount of money would have made you go on all the networking luncheons and meetings he spent his time in to soften people up. One was your limit, agreed to after a lengthy begathon from your coworker, so you let him ask you to come to a celebratory meal with the rest of the marketing team as usual, so you can also shoot it down as usual.

“Well, how about food and drinks tonight to celebrate, eh?” He acts like he might make it sound appetising by phrasing it like that for the dozenth time. But then he adds, “Their team is coming too. Sukuna insisted on paying. He asked us to bring everyone from the meeting too, and that includes you.”

This was a little unusual. It was a rarity for anyone other than the direct lead to be invited out, even if it was his company card getting thrown on the table for it. You can’t say you aren’t interested, even if the thought of being watched through the whole meal intimidated you. So you say yes, and Kusakabe is taken aback, smiling wide and patting you on the back like it was some feat to actually get out of either your lab, your office, or your home.

—

The meal is as insufferable as the meetings usually are. The ass kissing is somehow even more intolerable now that you know the contracts are signed so it was all even more unnecessary theatrics. Sukuna seems more focused on people in the room other than you, bordering on outright ignoring you, save for a few glances down at you in your seat across from him at the table.

It forces you to reckon with the fact that you had possibly been a little self-indulgent, coming to this meal to see him, to see if he was as interested as Kusakabe had seemed to think. You did trust his judgement after all, he had a good read on people, but now you’re just confused. It closes you off from the room even further, starting to feel awkward as your coworkers are drinking fast, bordering on making themselves a nuisance with their boisterous talking and laughter in the little reserved room of this restaurant.

Once they’re shuffling round seats, talking to each other, taking shots, cheersing again and again to a supposedly great fortune this year long contract - with a hope of renewal - would bring, you’re just sitting quietly at your seat in the corner, waiting for Kusakabe to finish his loud story to one of Sukuna’s team so you can say goodbye and leave.

Then, your interest is piqued again, as Sukuna breaks off from the few people he was speaking with, coming to sit down next to you. He peers down at you and you find yourself sitting up a little straighter, blinking when he speaks as if he’d made some sudden frightening movement.

“Are you always so quiet?”

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be rude or not, but you answer honestly. “Yes.”

It surprises him that you don’t come up with some defence, and that you were comfortable with your quietness, his brows raising gently as he appears to be scanning you head to toe all over again. It has you feeling tense, swallowing hard as he’s silent, though not in the same way you were.

He catches that, smiling with a predacious twinkle in his eye before he leans a little closer than necessary. “Don’t be scared. I only hurt people who have it coming.”

You don’t know if it was supposed to intimidate you, but it worked. It made your hairs stand on end, your mouth feel dry, but it also made a familiar heat pool low in your stomach. He’s caught onto something that lets him know that too, flashing his teeth at you.

“I said don’t be scared.” He says it like an order, leaning back in the seat he’d taken, looking out at the room and you take the opportunity to try and calm yourself a little without being obvious about it.

He crosses one leg over the other, putting an arm over the back of your chair. “They’ll be shitfaced by the end of the night. Half of them already are.” He swings his head slowly to look down at you, “Why aren’t you?”

You shrug. Because it didn’t interest you, maybe. Because you were bored enough that it couldn’t even help anything and would leave you with a hangover that wasn’t worth it tomorrow morning. You don’t tell him any of that though, deciding that you didn’t want to volunteer any unnecessary information right now.

So you answer with the same question, “Why aren’t you?”

There it is again, that smile that would be outright terrifying if you were one of those people that ’had it coming.’ Then, he tempers the smile, running his tongue over his teeth before relaxing into a more neutral expression.

“If I’m partying I’m not holding back, and this is technically business. But,” he leans in, close enough that you’re holding your breath, eyes wide, “maybe we can have our fun some other way…”

You lick your lips, trying to keep your breathing under control, trying to temper whatever had clued him in to his effect on your body before because by now you were absolutely soaked. He doesn’t let you have that control though, bringing a hand up and brushing your lower lip with his thumb and tilting your head up towards him. He’s so close you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, but instead he speaks.

“You need to do something with all that nervous energy, or you’ll wind up passing out.”

He’s mocking you, you know he is. You don’t exactly like to feel so frail in front of him but you can’t deny how your body was reacting, or that you might just be considering letting him kiss you within eyeshot of several of your coworkers. But he doesn’t. He pulls back and stands, eyes barely visible with how low he has to look to gaze down on you.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

Then, he just walks away, leaving you blinking, unsure of why he’d announced his departure with such weight. You catch up to his thinking as he stops at the entryway to the little private room you’d all been dining and drinking in, and quirks his head to the side, raising his brows in a face that wordlessly communicates, ’well?’ before he’s walking away.

It leaves you blinking again, swallowing hard, looking around the room as if to ask what you should do. No one was looking back, all involved in their own discussions. You take a breath, wondering why you suddenly felt the need to confer over something you very much didn’t want anyone else here to know you were even considering. Then, you realise even as you stand to follow along the path Sukuna had taken, it was because you knew it was probably a very, very bad idea.

When you reach the bathroom, you see it’s unlocked. You grab the handle and take a deep breath, half hoping he’d been joking, that he hadn’t even come into here and instead walked outside to get some air and laugh at the dirty little scientist who really thought he was inviting her to fuck in a public restroom. The door is only open a little before Sukuna is in view, very much waiting for you as he’d said, and very much stroking his frankly intimidating cock.

With the way your blood rushes downward between your thighs you almost feel lightheaded, and it’s as if your legs are moving of their own accord as you enter the bathroom and shut and lock the door behind you.

“Anyone could have come in here and seen that.” He laughs at the way you refer to his monster of a cock as that, but it doesn’t stop his slow strokes.

“But you came in here.” He’s still mocking you. And you’re still taking it, responding by grabbing at his shirt, and looking up at him. It spurs him on to release his grip on his cock and kiss you, one hand in your hair the other on your hip.

The force of his kiss borders on painful, teeth clashing with yours, tongue pushing into your mouth like it was his to claim. Then he’s gripping your ass, hoisting you up onto the sink, and only parting from your kiss once his hands migrate downward and feel how wet you already were. He spreads your legs wide, shoving your sensible grey dress upward to unveil the wet patch on your panties and smiling wickedly.

“Were you this wet in that meeting?” His eyes flick upward to meet with yours, and you feel defensive, like he was accusing you of being unprofessional.

“N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He tugs your panties down, hard enough you have to reach behind yourself to grip the sink and keep yourself from sliding off. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

That doesn’t help the defensiveness bubbling up inside you, competing with the arousal. “I am.”

He gives you a pitying look, like he wasn’t so sure anymore, “Then be a smart girl and get that cunt ready for me.”

He takes a step back, resuming his slow strokes on his cock, waiting for you to perform for him. Your fight is gone with the way his words have you letting out a horny little whine at the sight of him touching himself. He lets out a pleased groan at that, and if you hadn’t already cast caution and logic aside for a moment you’d be embarrassed at how enthusiastically you begin moving your fingers through your wetness for him. He nods approvingly, picking up his pace a little as his silent encouragement only makes you go further, bringing a knee up to perch one of your feet on the sink, giving him a better view as you circle your clit and let out a stifled moan.

He doesn’t let you work your way up like that for long though, “Go on, fuck that cunt open for me.”

His words are only getting filthier, and it makes your head spin, letting a louder moan slip out as your mind goes blank and you do just as he says. You didn’t know you could be so needy so fast, knuckle deep with two of your fingers, rocking your hips into your movements the best you can without slipping from your precarious position. He flicks his wrist, twisting his hand as he strokes his cock, and his deep groans have you sliding a third finger in, knowing your fingers will hardly approximate his girth. The obscenity of it all is getting you close, breath hitching, eyes struggling to keep focused as your legs get shaky.

Then he’s got you by the wrist, pulling your hand away, and replacing your fingers with his cock in one steady push. You wrap your arms around him, moaning and clutching at his back, squirming until he has to hold your hips still to bottom out inside of you properly.

You’re so full that it’s like you can’t think, mind needing to reset as your body takes over all the work for you, rocking against him, begging him with soft whines until he’s chuckling at your desperation.

“All of your little coworkers are going to hear us if you don’t keep quiet.”

His words are undercut by his actions, as he starts fucking into you in long, deep strokes, only speeding up to snap his hips against yours just as he’s bottoming out, and you find yourself taking it happily as he hits all the right spots inside of you.

The force of his thrusts has his pants slowly shifting from his hips and down his legs, heavy belt buckle hitting the tile floors with a clang as they pool around his ankles. His pace is unaffected, the more pressing matter being your pussy squelching obscenely around his cock.

“Oh- oh my god, oh my god…” you’re clinging to him, despite being in no danger of falling now that he was gripping you so tightly, mouth open and incapable of stopping the little whines coming out with every thrust.

He puts a hand over your still open and panting mouth and chuckles, low and breathy, “Not such a quiet little mouse now, hm?”

You’re still talking now, babbling into his palm about how good it feels, how bad you need him to make you cum. Even with how muffled it is you can still feel how it’s making him throb inside of you, and you clench around him. His hand on your mouth, large enough that he was gripping your entire jaw, and the other hand firmly locked onto your hip, are the only things keeping you from being a fucked out puddle on the floor, too close to do anything but take it as your moans get higher and louder.

As he starts climbing towards his end as well, he doesn’t even pretend to hold those sounds in anymore, releasing your face to have his other hand on your hip, and you resume your desperate talk unrestrained as he fucks you hard enough your head is left lolling. You’re lucky enough to have him obliging your every request, namely because they all centre around begging him to keep fucking you. He does it happily, until he’s growling his approval as you grip him tight, creaming around his cock as he fucks you right through your orgasm until he’s right on that edge himself. Suddenly he pulls out, pulling your dress higher and out of the way as he pumps himself roughly til he’s cumming hard, coating your pussy and thighs.

You lean back, until you’re against the mirror with the faucet uncomfortably pressed into your back, catching your breath, watching him squeeze out the last of his cum as he takes in the view of his handiwork. Then, when the stars behind your eyes have dissipated, and you look down at the mess, the reality of what you’ve just done settles in.

“Oh God…”

Sukuna only smiles at you and helps you off of the sink onto your shaky legs to begin cleaning yourself off. As you both make yourselves look presentable, something you’re putting much more effort into than him, he offers you a playful, “You’re welcome.”

You shoot him a look, much less warmed up to him now that the haze of lust has worn off.

He pats you on the back, then runs his hand down until he can squeeze at your ass. “You look much more relaxed.”

He takes a final look in the mirror and gives you another smile, still hungry despite having his appetites satisfied. “Looking forward to working with you.”

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #mma!au #mma!sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #mma fighter!sukuna

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bellzsq · 6 months ago

Text

“5 more minutes”

Y/n wakes Pablo before he has his first training back with his team.

Warnings: none.

Y/ns pov

“Baby, time to wake up.” I said as I opened the curtains to our bedroom.

“Amor… no..” Pablo groaned as he covered his eyes.

“Yes. It’s your first day back.” I pulled the sheets off of him.

“5 more minutes” Pablo pulled the sheets back making me loose my grip.

“You take forever to get ready, plus I’m driving you and I need to go to the market for groceries.” I told him.

“Great so we both really have no where to be in a rush,” he smiles at me sarcastically as he sat up.

“Get dressed.” I rolled my eyes before making my way to our bathroom to brush my teeth.

“I made you breakfast, it’s on the counter and your protein shake is already made so I suggest you hurry up before it gets runny and you don’t drink it.” I said.

He groaned loudly before pulling his body up from our king size bed.

“What’s even for breakfast?” He yawned.

“Pancakes..”

“Junk ones or the protein banana ones?” He put his white plain shirt on.

“What do you think?” I shot him a quick glare before putting my toothbrush in my mouth.

He put his arms up in surrender. “Just making sure,” he smiled before he made his way downstairs.

After I was done brushing my teeth I went into our closet and picked out a simple alo yoga outfit.

It was just a simple black pair of leggings and a navy blue alo sporty bra.

I put random Nike socks on with my black Nike tennis shoes.

I went back to our bathroom and used a little bit of gel and put my black/brown/blonde (whatever color your hair is) hair in a slick back bun.

Pablo came back into our room and changed into a pair of Nike sport black shorts and his black Nike long sleeve with Nike air maxes.

He brushed his teeth as I got my purse and my phone off the charger.

Once we were both ready and downstairs I got the car keys to my white Mercedes and I got in the drivers seat and he was in the passenger.

“Don’t go too slow, you know how much I hate it when you make me late.” Pablo had a bit of attitude.

“What’s your problem?” I looked left then right to see if cars were coming then I turned right.

“The pancakes were burnt on the bottom!” He raised his voice a little.

“Are you serious?! Pablo it’s a pancake. There’s nothing special. And you had a protein shake you will be fine.” I rolled my eyes at his sass.

“Whatever. You just never wanna admit that you messed up,” he opened his phone.

“I do admit. Here! ‘I burnt the bottom of your pancake because I was finishing a text to my mom. Sorry.” I stopped at the red light.

“My phone didn’t even charge last night,” he put his phone on the charger in the middle under the radio.

“Are you excited for your first day back?” I said with a small question in attempt to clear the tension.

“Yeah, pedri said that everyone is really excited to see me and help me recover.” He looked out his window.

“That’s good, they wanna help you through your hard time…” I turned left into camp Nou.

“Okay, have a good time shopping. Don’t forget the chocolate protein powder and bananas.” He grabbed his bag and his phone.

“I never do… have a good training.” I said before he shut his door.

After me and Pablo had arguments, even slight disagreements we never say I love you for a couple hours.

But it’s a normal thing for us. It’s not out of hate or envy. It’s just how we both are.

I watched him get into the training ground building where the boys change before staring training.

I pulled out and seen taia, raphinhas wife was behind me and she did 2 honks to say hi.

I drove to the market 20 minutes away then grabbed my purse and phone and locked the door.

As I strolled through the isles I made sure im everything I was getting was low calorie and had atleast some protein and fiber. If not Pablo would have a fit.

After I was done shopping there I seen a new flower boutique so I dropped off all the groceries in the trunk then went in.

They were all beautiful and my eyes landed on beautiful red roses.

Red was Pablo’s favorite color, plus they represent love so I got them and bought them to the checkout.

The woman checking out the flowers was a beautiful middle eastern woman.

“Today your total will be $92.68. But would you like a costume note?” She asks me.

“Yeah that would be great,” I smiled kindly at her.

“It would be another 10 dollars if you still wanna do it.” She says as she took the small papers out.

“Of yeah go ahead I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, what would you like the note to say?”

“Happy first day back”

“Okay…” she wrote the note in beautiful hand writing and I signed my name at the bottom in sharpie.

I handed her my card and as it was processing I spoke up.

“So is this a new boutique? I feel like I’ve never been in here before..”

“Yeah we just opened this weekend. We haven’t had many customers yet and I feel like the price isn’t helping much. But we need money to pay rent to this place.”

“Yeah I understand. In my perspective this is a very nice place you have.” I said as she handed my card back and the bouquet.

“Thank you very much. Have a great day miss,” she smiled.

I smiled back kindly then left the store back to my car.

It was about time to go get Pablo. He was leaving training early because Xavi didn’t want him being too active his first day back.

Once he got in the car I reached behind his seat and handed him the flowers.

“What’s this…” he held them in his hand observing the flowers.

“Amor.. you didn’t have to..” he read the note getting a little teary eye.

I don’t blame him. It was his first day back being with his people, he was probably overwhelmed.

“I had to.. I’m so proud of you pabs..” I kiss his pink lips softly.

“I love you..” he smiles at me softly with a sparkle in his eye from the tears..

“I love you so so much hermoso..” I rub his cheek softly.

I started driving again.

“How was training? Was it worth the wait?” I ask him.

“It was great. Nothing changed between any of us. It was like the good days..”

“Good I’m happy it’s going well.”

Sorry guys I know that was maybe a bit boring but yeah that’s all I have for today.

#culers #fc barca #futbolista #pablo gavi #pedri gonzalez #alejandro balde #espana #ansu fati #xavi hernandez #training #visca el barça #joao cancelo #joao felix #barcelona spain #futból

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octuscle · 10 months ago

Note

I’d like to look like my hunky coworker! But I need some help doing that! He has hairy pits, big biceps, big beefy pecs, a nice bottom and he’s hung! Able to help me?

Phew! You're a long way from a hunk. Your colleague is really in a completely different league… But of course I can help you. Let me have a look… Listen carefully and do exactly what I tell you!

Thursday morning. The alarm goes off. It's 04:30. There is no complaining. You get up now. Got it? The large bowl of low-fat quark, protein powder and oatmeal mix is already prepared in your fridge. You eat it! Too much? I don't want to hear any whining, nothing comes from nothing. And I don't just want to change your appearance. A true alpha is characterized by discipline. Not laziness. And that's why you go to the gym at 05:00. The owner is your best friend. That's why you have the key. They don't actually open until 06:30. But then you wouldn't be able to do your morning routine before work. And your morning routine at the gym takes two and a half hours. You're still struggling at first. But slowly everything comes back to you. I mean, you're at home in the gym. How old are you now? 26 and a few months. You lifted iron for the first time when you were 16. And you never stopped. During high school and college, you focused on your career as a quarterback. But after you started working… No more time for football. Focus on your career. Focus on your body.

At 06:15, Mike comes over. He's working the early shift at reception today. His luck, your luck. Whoever has the early shift gets to relieve your first pressure of the day. You don't jerk off. Wanking is for losers. An alpha doesn't put his hand on his own cock. And Mike blows like a devil. And he knows exactly which protein shake you can use to make up for the loss of protein from your ejaculation.

The fact that the gym fills up quickly at 06:30 is also down to you. You're a legend here. Everyone wants to be like you. Everyone would love to have the honor of being the second person in the shower to relieve your pressure in an hour. A blowjob like that is okay, but before you go to the office, you have to have fucked an ass. But you're picky. The ass has to be tight. That's probably why it's always so crowded at the leg press in the morning.

Today, a college boy was lucky enough to have an ass that makes your huge powerful cock go off. And because he did his job well, he even gets to shave his cock and balls. He'll be able to tell his kids about that. If he ever fucks himself again. You won't remember his name. He's the tight ass who knows how to use a wet razor. That's all you need to remember. It's enough if he remembers that he has to address you as "Sir". Everyone has to do that. You're not like the others here. You are better. Much better. And therefore an arrogant asshole.

It's 08:15 when you get to the office. To the minute. You're always in the office at 08:15. That's when your coffee and muesli are on your desk. And your signature folder is exactly aligned next to it. You're not tidy, you're a control freak. At work. And in your private life. Not a hair on your perfectly coiffed head is not the way you want it. No colleague around you doesn't follow your lead.

You are only the second youngest department head in the company. Your hunky colleague did it a bit earlier. But you have the bigger biceps. And you're better hung than him. He knows that. And he really appreciates it. Usually around 10:30 a.m. during the breakfast break.

#alpha tf #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #ai image

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jtl-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 30

Ichirou Moriyama had long been someone Riko had spoken about and therefore someone Kevin knew of.

First reverently as he talked about how someday his brother would come for him and how he’d watch Riko’s games. Then Ichirou never showed up once and the anger set in and mentions of his brother would result in especially bad days.

Kevin’s only saving grace at the Nest near the end was that Ichirou had been as uninterested in him as he was in Riko.

Neil was the one who had handled any communications with the new Master of the Moriyama family and Kevin was grateful for that. His stomach still twists when he found out what it would cost him to have the closest thing he would ever really have to freedom since his mom’s car accident but Kevin could hardly fault Neil since Kevin has no idea if he would have been able to even open his mouth and speak to negotiate with Ichirou. He certainly wouldn’t have thought to bargain for Neil and Jean’s lives.

So he was going to make sure the Neil had the best possible chances to get on a great team not just because he had every faith that Neil could be on the national court but also Kevin wanted him on the national court. Neil was his partner and his friend.

This was his last year that he could help as directly as this so he and Neil were still putting in the hours in their evening practices. It was also the last year that Neil could rely on him to assist in getting everyone up to snuff.

Ichirou Moriyama was going to be stopping by at some point and Kevin had decided that the best way to handle this information was to focus on something life affirming.

“I’m just saying it isn’t an unknown flavor combination.” Kevin argues.

“Kevin there is something very different about vanilla protein powder in chicken stock and Chicken and Waffles.” Aaron says from his spot behind Kevin in Wymack’s car.

“There shouldn’t be! It’s all the same flavors, just liquid!” Kevin turns in his seat to point at Aaron, “You should put on your seatbelt, what if Wymack crashes?” He says for the third time since the car ride had begun.

“That’s my problem, not yours.” Aaron says and his eyes have been locked on the roof of the car since the car ride began which was rude but Kevin had learned to expect nothing less from a Minyard.

“It will be my problem when your corpse breaks my neck as you fly forward!” Kevin hisses.

“Coach, could you do me a favor-“

“I’m not going to crash the car.” Wymack interrupts eyes on the road and hands at 10 and 2.

“God forbid you do something nice for me.” Aaron gripes crossing his arms.

Kevin decides to change his target.

“Coach-“

“Kevin, you’re not putting any protein powder into Smith’s soup. That’s final. Do you want to mess up his Grandma’s hard work to follow the Doctor’s recipe exactly?” Wymack asks.

No.

No Kevin does not wish to mess up Grandma Smith’s hard work.

He just…

A Food pyramid flashes in his mind.

…thinks he knows more than the hospital dietician.

“It’s not that Smith’s Grandma made bad soup.” Kevin says because the woman was a talent in the kitchen even if she might use a bit too much butter. He’d let her know but Nicky refused to translate and she’d smiled so warmly at him and touched his face so gently… “I think she was led astray by bad science and Nicky wouldn’t translate for me.” He says, “If she understood English she would have understood and agreed with me.” He says because he did manage to get her finely chop a bunch of carrots to put into the pasta sauce so that Neil would get some veggies.

She was a reasonable woman who understood the importance of good nutrition.

“I don’t know about that.” Coach says and Kevin wonders what he means by that.

They’re close behind Andrew’s car and Kevin can see two parking spots next to one another near the front except Andrew pulls into the spots in a way that means it is almost impossible for anyone to get into the second spot unless they owned a tiny smart car.

Andrew often parks like that to make sure no one dings the Maserati.

“That little shit.” Wymack grumbles as he continues to drive.

“Aren’t you going to let us out at the entrance?” Kevin asks.

“Who am I, your driver?” Wymack grumbles and does not slow down to let them out at the hospital entrance. “You’ve been bitching about not getting enough exercise and eating too much fat this weekend, consider this just some of the exercise you’ve been wanting.” He says.

Kevin leans back in the chair.

He does NOT pout. He merely frowns with his lips puffed out and feels as if he has been treated unfairly.

He uses this time wisely.

He thinks about Neil and Andrew’s ‘secret’ conversation.

Kevin still doesn’t know Russian, has no plans to learn it because he does not want to know 80% of what Neil and Andrew say to one another, but Kevin has always been great at understanding tone and it’s not that hard to understand that they were talking about FF when he ‘Kapitan Neil’.

He thinks about what might stress Neil out about FF (never once does he consider that FF being in the hospital with a stab wound may be the thing that stresses Neil out, not when there’s an explanation that involves Exy).

FF might choose to leave.

That would not bode well for Neil.

Kevin has already signed but Neil needs the next few years still to make sure he can follow through on his deal with Ichirou.

FF is a great defensive dealer.

Kevin still doesn’t really understand how he can seemingly just appear on the Court to intercept passes but Kevin has been informed that all of his plans to figure it out are ‘medically unethical’ and ‘likely to get him thrown in prison’.

Nicky patting his face pityingly and saying, “Your face is too pretty for prison.” had been when he stopped looking at how he could buy electrodes.

His follow-up search to find out that no prison in the United States currently had an Exy court as a facility had him drop the outline of his research into his recycle bin and right click to delete permanently.

Since Kevin cannot find a way to replicate that particular talent of FF’s then they just need FF to stay.

He also quite likes the steady freshman. He’s probably not ever going to be National Court level like he and Neil are, but he would be a solid Dealer on a good team. Kevin wouldn’t even mind playing with him professionally.

They park the car far in the back of the lot and Wymack grumbles at a different nice car that is taking up two spots. Kevin climbs out of the car and they start their way towards the hospital.

Kevin considers jogging in circles around Aaron and Wymack as they walk just to burn off more of the lunch they’d just had but decides against it.

Maybe a different nutritionist will be on staff today and will be able to back Kevin up on his plan.

***

Captain Neil and Andrew are quickly followed by Nicky and his Grandma both of whom look nervous but some of that seemed to dissipate when they saw him.

“Are you okay?” Captain Neil asks.

FF goes to open his mouth but a nurse interrupts, “He decided to go on a walk in his current condition. I thought we were quite clear that you needed to stay in bed. Stressing yourself is why you collapsed in the Cafeteria like that.” His main nurse chastises.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” FF promises because it won’t. He’s planning on asking for a medically induced coma to escape the consequences of his actions so leaving the bed is the last thing he’s going to do. His dad’s trust for him can have money taken out for his medical needs and there has never been a greater medical need in his entire life than right now.

“What happened?” Andrew demands stepping next to Neil.

How does one explain getting a job offer from the Yakuza (Yakuza or Mafia)?

“I wanted to go for a walk.” He answers because he had and that’s easier to explain.

“Why did you meet Ichirou Moriyama?” Andrew asks again in German.

Well dammit.

FF finds himself at a crossroads.

Does he tell the truth? That he’s an idiot and didn’t realize the man was reaching out to Captain Neil? That he went and had an entire conversation with the man who owns Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean Moreau? That afterward he tried to stand up and fainted which is how he got taken back to his room?

He thinks he has enough lies going on between his own and his grandma’s and he needs to relay something from Ichirou Moriyama.

“Lord Moriyama wanted me to tell you that he no longer needed to speak with you Captain Neil.” He relays just like he said he would and he sees Captain Neil tense.

“Smith.” Andrew says his name.

He also doesn’t want to talk about it any further.

“I’m fine, but I don’t want to talk about it.” FF closes his eyes as he answers back in German. He feels exhausted now and wishes that he had just requested a coma earlier so that he wouldn’t be in this situation. “Captain Neil, you left your phone here and it’s been pinging. Sorry I read one of the texts.” He gestures vaguely to his side table.

None of his guests speak for the next few minutes as the nurses finish reminding him to stay still, that he’s lucky his stitches didn’t break, that he’s on thin ice. He’s tired and he’s hungry so he’s curt with them in a way he’ll regret later but right now it’s just a lot when he can still feel Captain Neil and Andrew’s eyes burning into him.

Then Nicky proves to continue to be the nicest friend he has when the nurses leave and he feels Nicky’s hand take his and squeeze. “Hey, how are you really feeling?” he asks.

FF takes a deep breath, “I have...no idea.” he says. “I’m sorry.” he adds.

Nicky squeezes his hand again, “Hey, Aras made you some soup and we kept it away from Kevin. You’re probably a lil’ cranky because you’re tired, hungry, and in pain. You don’t need to talk about it right now okay?” Nicky says.

He’s really lucky to have Nicky as his friend.

He squeezes Nicky’s hand back and valiantly does not cry. He squeezes his eyes tighter to keep them from slipping out, it’d be embarrassing to cry here like this.

“Thank you.” He says voice quiet but doesn’t open his eyes, knowing what will come out if he does.

His Grandma comes to his side again and strokes his face. Her fingers wipe away the few tears that did slip out despite his best efforts but he thinks she did it so casually that maybe no one noticed.

It hasn’t been a good day, but Grandma’s soup has always been something that makes him feel better. He just wishes he could be alone for a minute with just her to witness the next few minutes.

Nicky, bless him, must sense that because he squeezes his hand tightly before letting go, “C’mon, let’s give Smithy and Aras a moment okay?” He says.

FF doesn’t open his eyes until his Grandma whispers, “My little Rotisserie Chicken, they’ve stepped out.” She says.

“He offered me a job in the Yakuza.” He blubbers immediately. “I don’t even know if they have dental.” He spills one of his lesser concerns.

“Oh honey, let’s eat some soup.” She soothes stroking his face.

***

Neil feels bad.

FF was pale, shaking, sweaty, and despite his grandma’s best efforts Neil had seen a tear slip from his tightly closed eyes.

He looks to his side and sees Andrew’s own hands tightened into fists.

“C’mon, let’s give Smithy and Aras a moment okay?” Nicky says and drags them out of the room through the sheer force of his ire. It’s moment like this that Neil really does understand why it is that FF prefers to spend his free time with Nicky over any other of their group.

They get out of the room and down the hall before Nicky starts in. “You two are the KINGS of not talking about shit so, for now, LEAVE it.” He hisses in German in a bid to keep the conversation private from anyone walking past.

“We need to know what deal he and Ichirou came to.” Andrew says in the same language.

“You’re going to find that out from Ichirou probably once he crazy murders Romero and Jackson in the next couple days!” Nicky cries dramatically, “Smithy probably doesn’t even know the full details because he’s in a lot of pain because he’s been STABBED.” Nicky points a finger at Andrew but wisely does not poke him with it. “Do you think he ACTUALLY went on a walk? Ichirou’s men probably took him since they couldn’t find YOU Neil.” Nicky points at Neil and, again, wisely does not poke him with it.

Neil’s stomach twists.

Maybe Neil should invest in a phone clip like Wymack thought the implication that the Moriyamas came to where his phone was leaves him wanting to skip it like a stone straight into the ocean. Too bad going to a beach still makes his palms sweaty.

“So what WE are going to do,” Nicky does a quick circle to point at the three of them, “is we are going to be good friends and help Smithy because he’s stressed, in pain, and needs friends not INTERROGATORS.” Nicky waves his arms in exasperation.

“Who are Neil and Andrew interrogating?” Aaron asks and Neil looks to the side to see Aaron with Kevin being pulled along by the scruff by Wymack.

“Smithy.” Nicky says.

“Why?” Kevin asks.

“Because Ichirou came and talked to him.” Andrew explains.

Kevin goes pale. “Why? I thought he was going to talk with Neil?” Kevin asks looking at Neil.

“He probably came here following Neil’s phone, which he left. So he grabbed Smithy to talk to him.” Nicky says, “Ichirou seemed impressed and pleased with whatever they talked about but Smithy is a little fragile after all of this so,” Nicky stepped into Kevin’s space, “Leave.” He pokes Kevin’s chest once, “Him.” He pokes Kevin’s chest twice, “Alone.” He pokes Kevin’s chest a third time.

“How would he even have an understanding of who he’s talking to?” Kevin asks looking sick. “No one has mentioned anything about the whole thing with the Moriyamas right?” He looks at the rest of them and Neil knows none of them would mention it.

Nicky rolls his eyes with his entire body.

“Kevin, do you know how many languages Smithy is fluent in?” Nicky asks.

“Uh…quite a few?” Kevin responds looking thrown.

“Yeah, one of those languages is French. Which you KNOW because he’s corrected your pronunciation before.” Nicky reminds Kevin and the Son of Exy blushes slightly.

“What does that have to do with this?!” Kevin squawks.

“Kevin, how many conversations have you had RIGHT in front of Smithy in French as you talked with Jean?” Nicky asks.

“None!” Kevin hisses.

“Can you say that for sure? You know how it can be with Smithy. Aaron over here has basically almost fucked his girlfriend in front of Smithy before because he didn’t realize he was there.” He juts his thumb towards Aaron.

“Hey.” Aaron scowls not happy to be reminded of that. “He needs a damn bell.” Aaron grumbles.

“I’ve talked about it in front of him and you never told us?!” Kevin exclaims.

“It’s Smithy! He’s not going to tell anyone!” Nicky argues.

Which is very true.

FF is just not that kind of guy.

“So we are ALL going to be good, supportive friends to Smithy and hopefully he gets out of here today despite the whole shit show with Ichirou and we get him back to Abby’s where he can rest up in her guest room with his grandma.” He points at each of them with a frown.

“But-“

“Kevin, leave it for now.” Wymack finally steps in to the conversation. “How’s he looking?” He looks to Neil.

Pale, tired, pained, and trying not to cry either from pain, stress, or fear Neil does not know.

“Bad.” Neil answers.

Wymack sighs, “Stay out here. I’m going to go check.” He says.

They watch as Wymack enters into FF’s room.

Kevin is still spiraling from the realization of all the different conversations he could have possibly had in front of FF thinking French would act as a barrier.

A thought crosses Neil’s mind, “Wait, Smith doesn’t know Russian right?” He looks to Andrew because he and Andrew have said quite a few things to one another when FF was there.

“No, he said he isn’t learning it here.” Andrew shakes his head. “Even if he does learn it Smith would just leave if he was uncomfortable.” Andrew shrugs.

They have all seen a ‘Smith 180°™‘ before when he’s walked in and has seen Aaron and Katelyn or entered a room where Nicky was talking to Erik or Matt was talking to Dan. Neil has even noticed one or two when him and Andrew may have been in a less than private place.

It was nice to have someone who would just see them like that and leave it alone instead of betting on it, trying to take a picture, or gagging like it’s disgusting.

Wymack walks back out after a minute in FF’s hospital room, “Let’s give Smith and his Grandma a couple more minutes.” He says and Neil’s heart sinks.

***

Wymack wasn’t quite sure what he walked into.

Smith’s Grandma was wiping his face and feeding him soup which is about what he expected. What he hadn’t expected was what FF was saying to his Grandma.

“….didn’t even wash his hands Gran. What if none of them wash their hands? I can’t work in that kind of environment!” FF babbles as he takes another spoonful of soup from his Grandma.

Smith’s Grandma looks up and sees that it’s just him at the door before continuing in English, “Sweetie, you don’t need to accept the job offer from the Yakuza.” She soothes.

“What do I even do?! What’s the etiquette? Do I send a letter refusing the job offer? Do I email him thanking him for the interview? Was it an interview?” FF asks.

Wymack shuts the door and he’s sure FF hadn’t even noticed him.

Yeah the kid needs a couple more minutes

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?