#seriously stop stealing things from people!

[alltimecharlo]

I love all your will/mack content but I am LOVING the frat boy will content. It really just fits him so well. If you ever expand the verse it could be funny to see them in rival frats. And Mack’s trying to take the rivalry very seriously and Will is like … can we pls hookup I think I’m in love w you. But they have to sneak around ? That could be cute

amazing levels of wsh desperation here, i love it. thank you anon - fic under the cut!!! :)🩵

Will leans against the porch railing of his frat house, a half-full red solo cup dangling between two fingers, and watches the chaos across the lawn.

Sigma Delta Phi is throwing their usual Friday-night bash, all neon lights and thudding bass and shirtless guys on the roof howling along to throwback pop songs. It's a mess. It's always a mess. And across the street, Alpha Rho is doing their version of a party too—cooler lighting, tighter dress code, a line of people waiting to get in like it's a club downtown.

Will smirks. Mack's party.

Mack, president of Alpha Rho, king of the clean-cut, all-American jock types, is standing at the top of his frat house steps, arms crossed and jaw tight, glaring like he's trying to manifest an earthquake under Will's feet.

Will lifts his cup in a mock-toast. "Evening, sweetheart."

Mack flips him off.

God, he's cute when he's angry.

"You're not taking this seriously," Mack says later that week, when they run into each other by the gym.

Will is in joggers and a cropped hoodie, sweat-damp and flushed from a run. Mack looks like he just stepped out of a recruitment catalog: backwards cap, team jacket, those ridiculous thighs.

"Taking what seriously?"

"The rivalry."

Will raises an eyebrow. "You mean the fake little frat war you started because I stole your float idea for Greek Week?"

"You did steal it!"

"You put it in the group chat. That is not legally binding."

Mack makes a frustrated noise and stalks past him, but Will falls into step beside him, grinning.

"You're really cute when you're mad, you know that?"

"You're not funny."

"Debatable."

They don’t stop running into each other. The campus is small, the Greek life smaller. There’s meetings, fundraisers, mixers. Will keeps catching Mack looking at him across crowded rooms. Glaring, mostly. Occasionally staring. Once or twice blushing.

The first time it happens, it’s after a fraternity council meeting that ran too late. Everyone's tired and cranky and half the group peels off to get drinks. Mack walks past Will in the hallway with a muttered, "Still think your pledge class is weak."

Will grabs his sleeve and pulls him into an empty classroom.

"Say that again."

"What, that your pledges couldn't organize a bake sale without crying?"

Will kisses him.

It’s not a gentle kiss. It's teeth and heat and Mack making this low, shocked sound in his throat before he grabs Will by the hips and backs him into the wall.

They don’t talk about it after. Not really. Just text each other things like "study night?" or "I know you’re at the gym. Come over after."

Will knows he should care more about the secrecy. But honestly? The sneaking around part is kind of hot.

There’s a thrill in showing up to Mack’s frat house in a hoodie pulled low, slipping around the side entrance while some pledge is mopping the floor. In making out in closets during campus-wide events. In whispering insults at each other with mouths barely an inch apart.

But also, there’s the quiet stuff.

There’s the time Mack makes him pasta in the tiny Alpha Rho kitchen and doesn’t even complain when Will sits on the counter eating mozzarella straight from the bag.

There’s the night Will falls asleep on Mack’s couch after one too many rounds of Mario Kart and wakes up covered in a blanket and with Mack’s hoodie tucked around him.

And then there’s the moment it all tips over.

They’re at a joint fundraiser. Mack is working the dunk tank. Will is supposed to be manning the raffle table. But he keeps drifting closer, watching Mack get soaked over and over.

Mack catches him staring and calls out, "Why don’t you try, pretty boy? Afraid you’ll mess up your nails?"

The crowd laughs. Will grins and saunters over, digs into his wallet for a few crumpled bills.

He nails the target first try.

Mack goes under.

Later, soaked and grinning, Mack corners him behind the supply shed.

"You’re enjoying this too much."

Will shrugs. "What can I say? I like watching you get wet."

Mack groans like he's in pain. "You are impossible."

"And you love it."

Mack hesitates. For once, he doesn’t deflect.

He leans in and says, quiet and rough, "Yeah. I think I do."

Will blinks.

"Say that again?"

Mack presses his forehead to Will’s. "I think I’m in love with you, dumbass."

Will laughs. He kisses him. It's softer this time. Real.

Maybe rival frat presidents aren’t supposed to sneak around behind the scenes.

Maybe they're supposed to hate each other.

But Will is done pretending.

And it turns out, so is Mack.

♡

[yoyomomiko]

I love your writing so much aaaa (⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ

I need the monster trio's reaction to reader calling them "husband", could be an accident or intentional I just need it pls!!!! ( T﹏T )

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: reader is referred to as "wife", mention of suffocating/drowning in sanji's part, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

wc: 1.3k+

— (a/n): tysm!! <33 i like writing for one piece characters so I love it when I get more requests for them >.< also, so sorry if this feels boring or short!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy loves it when you introduce him to new people, but he's usually too distracted to pay attention. Until you call him your husband.

The moment the word leaves your mouth, his face lights up.

He repeats it INSTANTLY, grinning ear to ear. "Husband? That's me, right? You mean me?"

If you try to play it off and say it was a mistake, he ignores your protests and laughs. If he likes it, he likes it. And you're gonna keep calling him that, no matter what!!

He immediately starts calling you "wife" in return, but in the most casual way, like it's completely normal.

He doesn't fully understand what marriage means in a traditional sense, but to him, being your husband means you're his person.

If the crew hears about it, they all would have different reactions. Zoro snorts, Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, and Sanji almost faints in disbelief.

Luffy, however, is completely unbothered.

If you tell him later that you only said it as a slip up, he just smiles and says "But you could mean it, right?"

He doesn't let it go. He starts using it as an excuse to do things for you. "Husbands have to share their food."

*Cue him stealing from your plate instead*

He loves how you blush when he casually refers to himself as your husband mid conversation.

If you ever genuinely called him that again, he'd get the biggest grin ever and he won't stop talking about it for hours.

He doesn't care about official ceremonies or rings. If you called him your husband once, that's enough for him.

——— ☆

You were introducing the crew to a kind old shopkeeper on an island, someone who had been chatting with you warmly for the past few minutes.

"Oh, and this is my husband, Luffy." You added casually, not even realizing it until the words were already out. You meant captain, not husband. At least that's what you wanted to believe.

Luffy blinked, tilting his head to the side, before a wide grin formed on his lips. "Yeah, that's me, I'm her husband!"

Wait, what? You froze, stiffened, locked in place. Did he seriously just agree?

The shopkeeper chuckled, a warm smile glued to their lips. "Well, aren't you two adorable? How long have you been married for?"

You opened your mouth to correct them, but Luffy beat you to it. "Long enough!" He answered confidently, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You looked at him, eyes wide, stunned. He just grinned at you, completely unbothered. You sighed, deciding to let it go. For now.

— ZORO

Zoro is not the type to get flustered easily, but calling him your husband? Yeah, that'll do it.

He'd be calm on the outside, but on the inside, he's replaying that moment over and over again.

If you called him that in front of strangers, like introducing him as your husband to avoid weirdos, he'd immediately go along with it.

He doesn't see the need to correct you. If you called him that, then fine. That's what he is now.

If someone asked when you got married, he'll just say "None of your business." and move on.

He secretly enjoys watching you get flustered after realizing what you said, trying to cover it up and say it was just a small mistake.

"Didn't know you were that eager to make it official."

If Sanji overheard, it would be war. "YOU?! HOW DARE YOU–" "Shut up, cook. She said it herself."

He says "cook" as if it's a slur.

If you apologized later for the slip up, he would just simply shrug, saying that it's just some words, but the slight redness on his ears would say otherwise.

He wouldn't bring it up much, but if someone else called him your boyfriend or anything else, he'd correct them. "Husband." No explanation.

Zoro starts to lowkey like the title, but he would NEVER admit it.

He doesn't joke about things like this. If you seriously wanted to be with him in that way, he'd take it 100% seriously.

If you actually bring up the idea of marriage later, he's going to instantly agree.

He starts calling you "wife" just to mess with you!!

——— ☆

You were traveling through a town when an unfamiliar man started hitting on you. He was persistent, and you were quickly running out of patience.

Then, without thinking, you gestured toward Zoro. "Sorry, I'm here with my husband." You sighed as the man's gaze followed the direction you were pointing at.

You immediately regretted it. Zoro turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. The man scowled but backed off, muttering an apology before walking away.

You exhaled in relief, until you felt Zoro's gaze on you.

"Husband, huh?" He muttered, amused.

Your face burned, heart beat quickening. "I just said that to get rid of him."

The corners of Zoro's lips tugged upwards, forming a smirk. "Didn't mind it." He kept walking like nothing happened, leaving you flustered.

— SANJI

Sanji freezes completely the second you call him your husband.

For a split second, he actually imagined it. Being your husband. Starting a family. Then his brain shut down.

If you were introducing him to someone that way, he'd try to act normal, but would fail miserably. "Y-Yes, that's right, I'm her– her– her husband, yes–"

His heart would be racing.

If you called him that to avoid someone flirting with you, he'd immediately play along, but also fall deeply in love with you all over again.

If you told him later it was just a slip up, a small and meaningless mistake, he would dramatically explain the feelings he had in that very second. "For a moment, I lived in paradise."

He would start calling you "my wife" at every opportunity. "Oh, my darling wife, allow me to–" "Sanji, stop."

If someone else flirted with you after that, he's quick to place himself in the middle of you and the other person. "I'm her husband, thanks."

I swear bro this man is SO sassy.

Sanji would start daydreaming about an actual wedding. He also gets more protective than usual, standing a little closer, guiding you with a hand on your back.

If you genuinely meant it, he'd be the happiest man alive.

He swears to be the best husband in the world, treat you amazingly, kiss the ground you walk on.

Sanji will never, ever forget the moment you called him that. The moment you called him your husband. Those words remain imprinted in his mind, locked in a special place.

——— ☆

You were in a crowded restaurant, and the waiter was getting a little bit too flirty for your liking. So, without thinking, you immediately decided to shut him down, but not directly. "My husband will have the same order as me."

Sanji knocked over his glass of water, almost choking as he coughed severely. You turned to see him frozen, eyes wide, face completely red. You groaned, pinching your nose bridge. Here we go...

"Say it again, love." Sanji literally sparkled, practically glowing. His eyes held a childish shine, which you couldn't help but describe as adorable.

You sighed. "It was just–"

"Say it again."

You buried your face in your hands, already feeling your heart beat increasing. Gosh, why did he have to be so handsome?

"Sanji, stop." You mumbled, resting your chin in your palm, elbow propped up on the table.

"My darling wife, please–"

"Sanji I swear that if you don't stop this, I will hold you down underwater and watch you suffocate."

"I wouldn't mind that one bit. Dying by your hands is an honor, sweetheart." He winked, smiling as he leaned in closer, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

He drove you insane. But in the best way possible.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[spirograffe]

she's a silly artist doing silly art and dated a stupid rich famous guy like tons of artists love to do. "posing with the communist manifesto" is not a political statement if you are not a political figure or.... making a broader political statement. she was walking around dressed like a dune character!!! it was a photo-op!

i don't understand why we think it's reasonable and normal to get ANGRY at people who have no interest in wielding political power and have no impact on ur life over their completely incoherent politics. like would u be mad at ur waitress for this same shit? would u be mad at some random guy who has like. a spreadsheets and email job? she's not running for public office and she's not participating in public political discourse beyond POSING FOR PICTURES dressed in a lil sci fi outfit and carrying around a book from the 1800s.

[noredemptionhere]

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

no warnings—just fluff

ᡣ𐭩| sevika isn’t ticklish. except in one spot. you found it by accident, barely brushed your fingers there, and she flinched. the realization hit you both at the same time. she narrowed her eyes. “don’t.” you grinned. “got your ass.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is secretly the biggest hypocrite. tells you to “be careful” but gets into fights twice a week. says she “doesn’t like sweets” but always steals bites from your dessert. acts like she’s all serious, but the moment you’re out of sight? she’s wrapping herself in your blanket like a burrito.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika rarely gets sick, but when she does? she’s miserable. won’t admit she’s sick, won’t take medicine, just sulks in bed with a blanket over her face. you try to help, and she just groans, “leave me here to die.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika makes the worst coffee. it’s either jet fuel or straight-up bean water—there is no in-between. and yet, she still drinks it like it’s fine. if you complain, she just slides the cup toward you. “all you jealous bitches got nothing on me.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is good at cards. too good. it’s infuriating. she doesn’t even try. she just sits there, unreadable, waiting for you to make a mistake. when you finally do lose, she just smirks, shuffling the deck with lazy precision. “wanna go again?”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika does not ‘scoot over.’ if you want to sit beside her, you make it work. you push at her, wriggle into the smallest available space, throw a leg over hers—and she still won’t move. just lets you struggle until you’re satisfied, smirking the entire time.

ᡣ𐭩| she does not like sticky things. syrup? hate. honey? disgust. the one time you kissed her after eating a popsicle, she physically recoiled. you had to follow her around the apartment with sticky lips while she threatened to throw you out.

ᡣ𐭩| she talks in her sleep. not often, but when she does, it’s nonsense. once, she mumbled, “no, i don’t want the frog,” and you spent weeks trying to figure out what it meant. she refuses to acknowledge this ever happened.

ᡣ𐭩| her sneezes are terrifying. she tries to hold them back, but when they come out, it’s like a gunshot. the first time it happened, you screamed. she laughed so hard she had to sit down.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika’s hands are always warm. annoyingly so. you press your cold fingers against her just to hear her complain, and she always does. “fuck’s sake—” but she doesn’t pull away. just sighs and lets you steal her warmth like the menace you are.

ᡣ𐭩| she has a soft spot for the dumb things you love. that one stupid tv show you’re obsessed with? she’s seen every episode. that weird little stuffed animal you’ve had since childhood? guarded with her life. she pretends to be indifferent, but then you catch her muttering about the plot holes in your favorite series like it personally offended her.

ᡣ𐭩| she grumbles when you move too much in bed. full-on, deep-chested grumbling, like a bear being disturbed from hibernation. you shift once? she sighs. you shift again? she tightens her grip. the third time? “seriously?” and suddenly you’re locked in place.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika has the world’s worst sleep schedule. she’ll tell you she’s going to bed early, and then you’ll wake up at 3 AM to find her standing in the kitchen, eating leftovers with her fingers and flipping through a book she has been obsessed with like she’s solving a murder case.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika cannot whisper. she thinks she can, but her whisper is just her normal voice, slightly lower. if she tries to say something discreet in public, people from across the room will turn to look. you’ve stopped letting her tell you secrets in quiet places.

ᡣ𐭩| she refuses to eat the last bite of anything. no explanation. no logic. just a deep-seated refusal to finish a plate completely. she’ll sit there, arms crossed, staring at the single remaining bite like it personally offended her. you’ve started eating it for her out of spite.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika hates when you’re mad at her. not because she can’t handle it—she can. but because she doesn’t know what to do. she just kind of… hovers. pokes at you. drops things near you so you have to pick them up and acknowledge her existence.

ᡣ𐭩| she thinks she’s subtle when she checks you out. she is not. she does the whole slow, full-body glance, then immediately acts like she wasn’t just devouring you with her eyes.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika sighs like she’s got a mortgage and three kids. you’ll say something mildly annoying, and she’ll exhale like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. you once asked her why she does that. she just looked at you and sighed again.

ᡣ𐭩| she pretends she doesn’t like sweets. but every time you get something sugary, she takes a bite. every. single. time. and if you ever try to call her out on it, she just shrugs. “tastes better when it’s yours.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika acts like she’s above petty behavior—but she’s not. one time, you jokingly called another woman “pretty,” and for the rest of the night, sevika miraculously forgot how to do anything for herself. needed help unbuckling her belt, unbuttoning her shirt, everything.

[theetherealbloom]

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You

Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.

Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.

“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

gif by @andrew-garfielld

| Main Masterlist |

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.

“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”

Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”

“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”

You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.

“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING

Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.  

You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.  

“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.  

You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.  

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.  

“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”  

Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”  

You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.  

Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”  

You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”  

“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”  

Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”  

You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”  

They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.  

“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”  

“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.  

For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.  

“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.  

Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.  

Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.  

You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.  

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.  

The reply came faster than you expected.  

Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning. 

You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.  

Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.  

The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.  

Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.  

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.  

You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.  

“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.  

“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.  

As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.  

Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON  

Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.  

He missed you.  

It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.  

He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.  

“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.  

If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.  

But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.  

He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.  

If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.  

He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.  

“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”  

The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.  

“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.  

As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.  

But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.  

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING 

The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.  

But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.  

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.  

You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”  

“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”  

Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”  

You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.  

As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.  

“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”  

“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”  

“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”  

“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”  

Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”  

The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”  

The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.  

AFTER THE PREMIERE  

As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.  

“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.  

Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”  

You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.  

“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”  

You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”  

Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”  

“What?”  

“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”  

You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”  

“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”  

“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”  

Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”  

Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.  

“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.  

“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”  

Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”  

AT THE AIRPORT  

The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.  

You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.  

The response was almost immediate:  

Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.  

As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.  

You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.  

Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.

The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.

“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”

Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”

The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”

Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”

The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”

The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”

Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”

The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”

Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”

LATER, BACKSTAGE

Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.

“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.

“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.

Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”

Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.

“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”

“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING  

The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.  

Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.  

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.  

“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.  

Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”  

Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.  

There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.  

He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.  

“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”  

But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.  

When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”  

Before you could finish, Pedro moved.  

He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.  

“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”  

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.  

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”  

You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”  

Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.  

Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.  

“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”  

You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”  

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.  

From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”  

Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”  

Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”  

And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

[irefy]

My favorite parts of the Iliad now that I’ve finished it for the first time:

Odysseus running around beating people with a scepter (and the amount of joy he got from it)

Agamemnon prematurely mourning Menelaus, who is standing right next to him.

Zeus telling Ares he hates him the most of all his children. God damn. He really did just say that to his face didn’t he.

Diomedes being a force of nature on the battlefield

Diomedes being a force of nature on the battlefield and everyone still treating him like he’s their annoying little brother who they unfortunately sometimes have to kind of listen to.

Diomedes.

“What are you talking about?” I laughed out loud multiple times because of this line. I don’t know what it is, but every single time it’s said I just imagine the most baffled/annoyed expression and tone of voice on whoever was saying it and I just. Lose it every time.

Helen being extremely passive aggressive the entire time she’s on the page. Seriously love her.

Helen believing her brothers didn’t come to war because they were ashamed of her, not knowing they have been dead for some time. It hurts and I love it.

Odysseus and Diomedes being sent on a spy mission and deciding that, after getting information from the Trojan spy, they are going to go to their camp and steal some horses. (And a chariot. And some armor, I think???) Utter chaos. They did not have to do this. This was A Choice.

Them coming back after stealing said horses and NOT A SINGLE PERSON QUESTIONS IT. IMPLYING THIS IS A NORMAL THING FOR THEM. AND THEY JUST,,,,,REGULARLY DO SHIT LIKE THIS.

Athena helping them.

The Trojans being annoyed with Paris

Nestor kicking Diomedes awake, who is, for some fucking reason, sleeping on the ground (?????)

Nestor.

Nestor going on long winded rants about His Day and his exploits. And everyone just kinda has to sit and listen to him talk.

Poseidon causing an earthquake so extreme Hades worried he was going to expose the underworld.

Artemis calling Apollo a baby for not wanting to fight Poseidon

Apollo ignoring her entirely. Peak sibling energy.

Achilles calling Patroclus’ ghost “true heart.” I know what you are.

Athena helping Diomedes in the funeral games.

Athena getting so mad Apollo made Diomedes drop his whip during said games she sabotaged Eumelus and made Diomedes’ horses run faster.

Antilochus threatening his horses into running faster.

This working.

Odysseus and Ajax wrestling and being so evenly matched that everyone gets tired of watching.

When they get up for round three Achilles telling them to “put not eachother further to such cruel suffering.”

The idea that Achilles was so sick of watching them that he compares it to actively being in pain.

Odysseus praying to Athena for help when he’s loosing the footrace.

Athena actually helping him.

Athena sabotaging Ajax and making him slip and fall face first into dung.

Ajax saying Athena hovers over Odysseus like his mother. Everyone finds this hilarious. Odysseus does not disagree.

Diomedes continually aiming at Ajax’s neck while fighting for a sword and armor. They are stopped by the rest of the Achaeans in fear for Ajax’s safety.

Yea, I’m convinced the Iliad is a comagedy. A comedic tragedy. A tragic comedy?

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #14

synopsis: when attack on titan characters make you cry 💦

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, sasha, connie, reiner, annie, bertolt, levi, erwin and hange.

notes: 2 posts in 2 days! arent you a lucky bugger x

☆ eren jaeger

it’s really situational for eren, he cannot take you seriously if you’re in a bad situation. if you’re on the battle field or doing anything important to do with titans, strategy plans etc. he will tell you that you can’t be crying in that moment. HOWEVER, if you’re not in any of those situations he is so empathetic!! my little baby is so sweet to you like, he’s like putty in your hands especially if he’s the one making you cry, oh my god. he would just DIE and probably cry with you.

☆ mikasa ackerman

her eyes soften… her eyebrows pinch together… her lip quivers and tilts into a frown… SHES SO DISTRAUGHT, HOW COULD SHE DO THIS? SHES SO STUPID GAHHH. super mellow, super quiet and of course, super sweet. she’ll approach you like you’re a fragile animal in the woods that she doesn’t wanna scare. she genuinely couldn’t think of anything worse in this world than upsetting you and her being that reason? HER HEARTTT, she’ll drop her nonchalant dread head act immediately and silently reassure you with physical affection.

☆ armin arlert

breaks the boys heart. he is absolutely and utterly DESTROYED. his self-esteem reaches an all time low in that very moment, as soon as that one tear fell of the apple of your cheek, GOD. he wanted the world to swallow him while to be honest, he was so upset and embarrassed he made you cry! but obviously, he really tried not to be selfish and start crying as he didn’t want to take any attention off you but trust, by the end of it, he will be crying alongside you.

☆ jean kirstein

god he is just so gentle, so caring, so comforting, so patient. he KNOWS exactly how to comfort you - he apologises profusely, sits with you, hugs you, talks the whole situation through with you LIKE UGH, and whatever it was that made you cry i can promise you this man WILL FIX THE FUCK UP! he lives to serve you and make you happy 🙇.

☆ connie springer

very quiet afterwards… he just feels really awkward, he wishes he could reverse time and just pretend nothing happened 😭. he’s like, do we break up now orrr…? he will eventually say sorry and become less awkward but, he definitely shows his sympathy through physical affection. after everything’s died down, he cracks a joke or two.

☆ sasha braus

SHES SO SWEET, definitely also awkward and she doesn’t realise you’re being serious for the first 2 minutes but afterwards oh my god, she’s so apologetic!! she gives does acts of service as an apology and of course, says sorry. profusely.

☆ reiner braun

breaks him into a million bijillion pieces. he turns into a puddle like, he just dies. HE made YOU cry? his life is over. sooo apologetic & he makes sure to let you know that he is! he will not be over this for days, days i tell you, he will continue to make it up to you even if you’re over it in like an hour.

☆ annie leonhart

she’s in shock honestly. she didn’t think you would be so upset over what she had said… but most of all, she’s shocked that seeing you upset had such a big impact on her. what- what was this? oh my god, she’s crying? because you’re crying? she’s in deepp😭. keeps her tears to her self and apologises to you and you make sure to tease her because you saw those tears!!

☆ bertolt hoover

crying with you. not in a way that would steal any attention from you or what he did to make you cry, he really tried to stop himself but after trying to not cry and apologise, he breaks down and now you’re both crying. a lot of ‘i’m sorry’ and ‘i love you’, ‘i won’t do that again‘s are being thrown around and it’s just an adorable sobbing, loving mess.

☆ levi ackerman

errrmmm, it’s kind of tough for him. he’s been very desensitised to mostly everything, even horrid things like people being eaten alive by titans, literally watching them be ripped limb from limb yk? the usual stuff! anyways, he does feel bad though because of course, he loves you. and he never wants to hurt you or be the cause of your pain so, he does apologise even if it doesn’t sound very normal coming from his mouth, lol.

☆ erwin smith

he feels bad, of course. he’s a very respectable, normal man so, as any other person, he’ll apologise for making you feel that way, say he won’t do it again, say he loves you and move on with his day.

☆ hange zoë

NOOOO THEY CANT BELIEVE THEYVE DONE THIS!! tragedy has struck 😔. they will do everything in their power to make it up to you, they will do a simple, straightforward and sincere apologise HOWEVER, afterwards they’ll do something extra for you, just as a cherry on top like, a candle lit dinner in your house or something along those lines ^o^.

[viaxslz]

₊‧ʚ・ㅤ☕️ ⠀ٝ ⠀SKZ HAVING A CRUSH

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: most of these are from me and my friends experiences having a crush TT,highkey rushed im sick please bear with me (💔),not proofread :P

BANG CHAN

He’s probably the most secretive about it. In facts his friends didn’t know until they caught him stealing secrets glances from you and the small smile on the corner of his Lips whenever he’s talking with you.

LEE KNOW

An obvious one. Lee know doesn’t mind following you everywhere you go like a lost puppy. As long as he is in touch with you, he’s satisfied. He doesn’t care about the stares he gets from the female gender. “Isn’t he ashamed he’d following her like that?” A girl whispered to her friend.

CHANGBIN

Zones out whenever he stares at you. Admires your smile and laugh. He seriously ask himself the question “why can’t everyone be like l/n y/n… I mean, she’s smart, good looking, cute, friendly and sweet, pulls both boys and girls.. she’s basically everything a guy would want” he soliloquies to himself. He finds himself becoming best friends with the gym just so he can impress you.

HYUNJIN

Lowkey obsessed with you. If you miss a day of school trust me he’d be the most grumpiest man on earth. He’ll be hella dramatic. He refuses to eat, talk or look at Anyone else except the wall.

HAN

Also The obvious one. He had accidentally jokingly confessed, a total amount of 27 times but you’re to oblivious to think he’s being Fr. He’s always trying to touch you. He finds excuses to hold onto your hands or stroke your hair and cheeks because it just looks so soft ><

FELIX

Felix always tries to be a sunshine around you. Finding multiple ways to get your attention or to make you notice him. He absolutely hates it whenever he sees you around other people more specifically guys. His hand always itch to strangle them (grrr). You probably won’t care right?

SEUNGMIN

He’s always admiring from afar. Bro is too afraid that if he gets close to you he might say or do something embarrassing. He would always have a smile tugging the corner of your lips whenever your name is mentioned, he sees you around or sits in the same room as you.

JEONGIN

The type to force his friends into passing the direction you’re heading to. He doesn’t care about their protest. Nothing is stopping him from stalking you. What the flip is hard to get? He doesn’t know a damn thing About that.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor

[innerfare]

Wearing His Hat

Summary: You wear his hat

Characters: Luffy, Ace, Sabo, Law, Mihawk

Genre: I'm going to say fluff, but Ace's and Mihawk's are fairly suggestive, so be cautioned

——— 

Luffy: 

Luffy is very protective of his hat. It’s his most prized possession, given to him by his beloved father figure. He’d fight the bloodiest war in human history to get that hat back should someone steal it from him. It’s for that reason he’s shocked by his own reaction when you get a little tipsy one night and pluck it off his head, placing it atop yours. 

“Call me Captain,” you tell the crew, going member by member and giving them orders, getting onto Zoro’s case for not saluting like Usopp and Chopper did. 

He doesn’t feel the urge to snatch it back, doesn’t feel even a touch of anxiety that you could misplace or damage it. Rather, he feels a sense of pride- everyone knows him by his straw hat, so if you’re wearing it, everyone knows you’re his. And it’s in that moment he realizes that you’re his- not his belonging, but his person. You’re the one he wants to walk through this life beside, the person who chose to wear his hat. 

Law: 

He works so hard- it’s one of the things you love about him. You typically try not to disturb him while he’s in the middle of a book, but every once in a while, you can see that he’s not lost in the book so much as he is holding it in his hands to keep the people around him at a distance, allowing him to think a little too much about what’s stressing him out. 

You can tell by the tension in his neck and shoulders, the way his eyes don’t really focus on the pages but rather look right through them. 

“Put the book down. It’s time for dinner.” Coming up behind him, you give his shoulders a squeeze before sitting on his desk, kicking your feet a little bit. 

“Not hungry.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

He cast you an annoyed look but said nothing else. 

Knowing he wouldn’t budge unless you jumpstarted him, you snatched his hat off his head and placed it atop yours, 

“Y/n-ah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me my hat back.” 

“If you want it so bad,” you told him with a small smile. “Put the book down and come and get it from me.” With that, you hopped off his desk and slipped out of the office. 

Law glanced down at his book. He didn’t give it another thought, just tossed it aside and climbed out of his chair to get that hat off your head, and possibly another garment or two. 

Ace: 

He was always putting that hat on your head. Everyone knew him by the orange cowboy hat, and if you wore it, they knew you were his. What most of them didn’t know, however, was exactly what he did to you when you wore that hat. 

You were sitting on the deck of the Moby Dick one evening talking to a few members of the crew over some sake when Ace passed behind you. He didn’t say anything, just dropped the hat on your head and went to talk to Marco. 

Your cheeks heated up. Grateful the darkness hid your blush, you finished your sake and told the guys you were headed to bed. Though they whined about you turning in early, they didn’t try to stop you. What you didn’t notice were the knowing looks they exchanged behind your back, the crew slowly catching on to yours and Ace’s code. 

When you reached Ace’s cabin, he was already waiting for you. He wrapped you in his arms the moment you entered. 

“Took you long enough,” he said, groping you as soon as he got his hands on you. 

“What?” You asked as innocently as you could manage. “Is there something you’ve been wanting to do?” 

“Lots of things I’ve been wanting to do.” He pushed you toward the bed. “We can start by you sitting on my face. And remember the rule- if the hat falls off, we start over.” 

Sabo: 

You and Sabo were supposed to be sparring, but he wasn’t taking it seriously. You could tell by the way he kept looking over your shoulder, the way he pawed at you instead of striking when you gave him an opening. You considered complaining, but you knew better than to nag a man like Sabo. He would just ignore you like he did everyone else who tried to get on his case about something, the Army’s Chief of Staff being an expert at tuning out voices. 

So, you decided to get creative. 

The next time his eyes left your person, you swooped in. His arms went up to block you, more out of habit than anything else, but you didn’t strike him the way you normally did. Rather, you snatched his hat off his head with a victorious laugh. 

“Hey!” His eyes widened, and suddenly, his full attention was on you. “That’s mine.” 

“Is it?” You placed his hat atop your head with a mischievous smile. “If you want it back, come and get it.” 

Sabo’s expression lit up as you issued your challenge, and as he positioned himself back in his fighting form, you had to wonder if you would regret riling up the Chief of Staff.  

Mihawk: 

Mihawk collapsed beside you, completely spent. You had a way of doing that to him, of working him up into a frenzy. He quite enjoyed the hours you two spent between his silk sheets, liked the sheen of sweat that coated his skin afterward. Without your appetite, he wouldn’t have much work to do, and Mihawk loved having work to do. 

You stood up from the bed, a little wobbly on your legs after Mihawk had them over his shoulders for well over half an hour. Accustomed to feeling sore in places you hadn’t known existed until your man made you aware of them, you reached down and picked up Mihawk’s shirt, the light shining through the pale fabric as you sauntered toward the table in front of the fireplace to refill the crystal wine glasses the two of you had forgotten in the throes of passion. 

Taking a long sip of yours, you walked back to the bed. You sat down on the edge and handed Mihawk his glass. 

“Thank you, my love.” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the glass. His other hand fell on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “You wear that shirt rather well.” 

You noticed his hat discarded on the floor. “I think I’d wear that rather well, too.” You stood up and picked up the hat, placing it on your head. Turning, you approached the mirror on the wall, admiring yourself in the moonlight filtering in from the balcony. You stroked the soft white feather, so wrapped up in it that you didn’t notice when Mihawk rose from the bed until he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“You’re right,” he said into your neck, pressing himself into you. “I think you should wear it to bed.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[bonsubear]

Reader loves Invincible but hates Mark┃Mark/Invincible x Fangirl! Reader ┃#1

Hi, I haven’t written fanfiction for a hot minute so I’m terribly rusty. So, if this isn’t coherent oops. Also, if Mark is OOC just close one eye and keep reading hehe.

Inspired by @/tiramissyoucake and the anonymous asker who requested a short story of Reader hating Mark but loving Invincible!!! I like that idea very much so I’m stealing it for a moment >:)

#1, #2

WC: 1.6k

He should probably feel annoyed about the fact that this girl in his biology class seems to hate him with each fiber of her being for no reason—her eyes always hard with disdain and her mouth quick to shoot an insult whenever he did an action or said something she didn't like (which was basically anything, even breathing) but oddly enough, he didn’t.

She had transferred to his school before his powers kicked in and before his superhero alter ego, Invincible, was born. She was in a couple of his classes besides biology. On some occasion his eyes couldn’t help drifting to her, noting one or two things about her.

From what Mark could tell, she was quiet and kept to herself. You’d think that she was a hard-working student who was diligently taking notes with how she would pretend to type something important on her laptop, but he always quietly chuckled at the sight of her on some shady website reading an obscure comic.

He would quite literally watch her browse through comics with long titles and choose the most outrageous plot then shift her laptop away from the direction of other students as if people (aka him) behind her couldn’t clearly see what she was doing.

Oh, and in English class she would tuck her air pods in her ears and try to cover them with her hair—playing some sort of audio book or a YouTube video. Even though she would try and hide her reactions, Mark could tell whenever something amusing happened. The small quirk of her lips, how fast she would twirl her hair, and the slight sway of her body as she stared blanky at empty air while listening intently.

Also, you were a fan of shopping for clothes and accessories. Nearly every day he would notice a brand-new item or piece of clothing on her. It could be a new, shiny necklace that fits perfectly on her chest or a new jacket that was too neat to be old. She also shopped for cosmetics like perfume that smelled differently from the last and a new subtle shade of lipstick that was applied perfectly on her lips.

Though her spending habits didn’t go well with her checking account. Mark caught the girl pouting multiple times looking at her bank account that was a little bit too low for anyone’s liking, refreshing the screen as if the number would change.

...

Okay, maybe he took note of a little bit more than one or two things. Whatever, sue him.  

But for some unexplained reason, this girl had serious hatred toward him. The type of hatred you’d think Mark did something absolutely horrible. Like, shooting her childhood pet or punching her elderly grandmother.

He never did any of those things or anything else. However, he must've done something to piss her off at some point to declare him public enemy #1.

“I’m going to throw acid at your face and make you blind if you don’t stop staring at me.”

“Nerds are usually smart, thanks for going against the stereotype.”

“I went to Loserville and the residents told me you were the mayor.”  

“Wow, you killed that, Mark! … Next time make it yourself.”

It was insult after insult every time he interacted with her.

“Dude, why do you keep trying to talk to her? It ends the same way every time.” William deadpanned after he witnessed yet another verbal attack on Mark, you walking away without sparing a single glance back. “Don’t tell me your one of those guys who get off on that sort of thing.”

“No! No! Why would you suggest that?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He flatly replied, raising his brow. “That girl clearly hates your guts! Yet everyday you try to talk to her as if she didn’t tell you to kill yourself the other day.”

“Eh, more like every day.”

“See! Hates you!”

“Your right, William. I’ll stop trying to be friends with her…”

“Atta boy!”

“… soon.”

“Come on, man!”

Then, when Mark’s powers kicked in and he became Invincible—he got busy and stopped trying to talk to you. Not that he lost interest didn't want to get to know you, but so much things were happening.

His eyes still wandered to you in class, noticing that your hair looked different so that must mean you went to another shopping spree and got a new shampoo or conditioner and other things—but Mark was busy trying to be the best he could be so interactions with you stopped.

That was until he saved your life during an attack as Invincible.

Holding the civilian in his arms tightly as he landed down, small bits of debris on his shoulders as he let out a small huff, he shifted his gaze around to see if any other civilians needed his attention. “It was a good thing I caught you in time.” Mark smiled, his eyes blinking behind his goggles as he looked down at the person he was holding in his arms.

His eyes widened in shock (though you couldn’t tell because of the goggles) when he realized who he had just saved.

Holy shit, it’s you.

And fuck, why were you staring at him so cute? Your eyes that would stare at him with hatred were instead filled with adoration and admiration as your hands were basically trembling holding your phone to your chest.

“I—uh—wow—um,” His voice was caught in his throat, his breath hitching as he wasn’t used to this type of look on you. You stared at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world, and Mark could feel his stomach flip flop as he averted his gaze. “Are, are you hurt?” He squeezed the words out his throat, looking back at your wide eyes that were still filled with that adoration.

“Yes! Yes! I’m perfectly fine now, Invincible! Thank you so much!” You happily yelped, suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck. You squeezed tight, practically burying your face as if he was oxygen and you were trying to fill your lungs.

The scent of your shampoo filled his nose, and he recognized that it was the same one you used on Tuesday. It smelled good.

Play it cool, play it cool.

“N-No problem, citizen!”

“You’re the best Invincible, thank you so much! Thank you!’ You pulled away from the grip you had on his neck, “I’m going to follow you home!”

“What?”

“I-I mean, I’m so indebted to you!” You squealed like a fangirl. Your cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, your whole body shaking from not the adrenaline of almost being killed but instead because of the excitement of Invincible holding you. “Ever since you made your debut as a hero, I’ve been such a huge fan of yours! And now you’re here and y-you saved me!”

… You’re a fan?

He carefully let you down on the floor, your legs catching yourself as he turned around to hide the fact that his cheeks were burning a deep shade of red. “Please, uh, evacuate! It’s not safe in this area—I have to go, s-sorry."

“Anything for you! Stay safe Invincible!”

And anything for him indeed because after that day, you were always decked out in school with some sort of Invincible merchandise attached to you. Keychains, stickers, shirts, nails themed after his suit, and more. Jesus, you even changed the wallpaper on your phone and laptop to pictures of him!

“Wow, you really like that Invincible guy.” Will whistled, pointing out the chibi Invincible phone charm that was attached to your phone case.

“Of course I do! He’s the best hero ever. The coolest guy and the most handsomest!” You whipped around, bursting in happiness at the mention of Invincible. “You would be an idiot not to like him.” You eyed Mark at the ‘idiot’ part, before turning back to Will. “I always liked him when he first appeared on the news, but oh my fucking God after he saved my life, I had to make my love for him public!”

“W-What does that mean?” Mark asked, intrigued.

“What it fucking means, dipshit. It’s obvious.” You hissed, turning to him, “What fan doesn’t have a shrine to their idol? Their one and only? Are you stupid?”

That was not obvious—wait shrine?

“I have photographs of him, official and fan made merch, posters—everything! He’s basically my husband at this point.” You swayed in your seat, your cheeks turning pink with how you were shamelessly gushing about him. You continued to ramble as Mark Grayson stared in disbelief, the girl who hates him loves him at the same time.

You love Invincible but hate Mark.

That made Mark feel… weird. There were butterflies in his stomach as he continued to stare at you and his chest felt a little heavy. He was upset, but not at you—which is odd because it should be towards you—but instead toward himself? Towards Invincible that you were so excited at the thought of his superhero alter ego instead of him.

Was he jealous... of himself?

"How much do you like him?" Mark asked quietly, tilting his head.

"I'll let him crack me open." You sighed dreamily without a second of hesitation, and Mark choked on his spit as soon as he heard that. "Also, correct yourself—I don't just like him, I love him. Now, go away and stop bothering me, loser." You turned around in your seat before he could say that Will was the one to bother you first, not him.

He continued to stare at the back of your head, dumbfounded at how you were a big Invincible fan. A big fan of him.

The urge to turn you around and tell you that he was Invincible was strong. Not because he wanted to rub it in your face that the guy you actively hate on was actually your favorite superhero but because he wanted you to stare at him with those big eyes of adoration toward Mark Grayson, not Invincible.

...

Jesus, what was wrong with him?

This is kinda bad but uh, I tried :P Goodnight I have to wake up at 6 am dfjndfnsj

[mediocreanomaly]

Rookie.

Cecil Stedman x Reader (GN!Reader, Age Gap)

Authors Note: Yes I'm a Cecil stan. No I won't apologize. There's just something about that old man's dry humor and morally grey decision making that enraptures me.

Cecil had stared down literal demons with a steadier pulse than this.

No, seriously, he'd experienced just about everything during his time on earth, kaijus, dead gods, alive gods, magic, mad science, fish people who, ironically, were pescatarian. Yet somehow, this is what shocks him.

“You don't want this, kid,” he sighs, pressing his fingers to his temples like he has the mother of all headaches coming on.

“You think you do, but you don't.”

The cocky mother fucker across from him just grins.

It's hard to pinpoint when exactly this had gotten so out of hand. With Rae, Rex, Rudy, Monster Girl, and Bulletproof gone, to say they were short a few guardians had been an understatement, and unfortunately, it had been Cecil who'd had to run the new tryouts. In the end only one really stood out, some local hero with the ability to steal other people's powers through touch for half an hour at a time. It wasn't much but apparently it used to be five minutes which suggested it could be extended whether that ended up being through training or the GDAs tech was yet to be determined but Cecil was desperate for a Hail Mary after his plan b and c against Mark had done jack shit and a temporary Viltrumite was as good as ever in terms of plans.

Looking back on it Cecil should have seen it from the beginning, the way the rookie had sat up straight like a dog waiting to impress its man with a trick when he'd walked in, but several of the others who'd known who he was had put on faces as well so he'd written it off as an attempt to impress.

The actual tryout had gone similarly; the little sneak had managed to get their paws on a few powers before getting into the ring and had made sure everyone knew it when a few training robots had nearly gone through the walls. Admittedly, Cecil had enjoyed the cunning; powers only got you so far if you didn't have the brains to use them, so it had been an easy call to green-light them onto the team.

Then things had gotten weird.

It had started with the training. Cecil didn't make it a habit to oversee every regimen; that's what Immortal was for, but he tried to stop in at the beginning of the month to see how the new members were settling in. When the rookie had noticed this, they'd begun showing up thirty minutes early and lingering late, purposefully trying to flaunt whatever flashy power they'd managed to snag for the session or showing off their new record for weights. Again, Cecil had begun wondering if they were attempting to brown nose their way into some higher position because it had at least become clear they were showing off for him.

It hadn't really clicked per se until a few months in when the rookie realized their golden ticket to seeing him was running reports to his office, a chore even Black Samson attempted to avoid at all cost.

Cecil should have nipped it in the bud; they'd begun overstaying their welcome as of late. He didn't do conversation, but God damn, the kid didn't give it a rest; they'd chatter on about how the guardians were, how their day had gone, about how great the GDA was. When he'd responded with varying levels of noncommittal grunts and ‘Do I look like your diary, kid?’ They'd begun a new approach.

Food, for one. Dropping off food with their reports because ‘there was no way he ate with his schedule’ which was half true but it didn't make it any easier accepting meals. Then they'd somehow managed to pick Donald's brain about interest of his and sneaking it into conversation.

‘I was just listening to Miles Davis the other day’ (they hadn't) ‘Ugh I could really go for a scotch right about now’ (they hated it)

What was worse is it had begun to work. Cecil didn't know why he hadn't told them to give it up and get the hell out of his office, if it had been anyone else he certainly would have but he was still a man at the end of the day.

It's not like he hadn't appreciated the occasional man or woman passing by before, but he was well out of his prime, not to mention too damn busy to even humor a one-night stand, much less anything regular. Besides, it's not like anyone really glanced his way these days, or they hadn't until you.

You had thrown some colossal-sized wrench into his life that he'd been trying desperately to ignore, which wasn't typically his style. Cecil was a problem solver at heart and saying ‘no’ to some green newbie on the team should have been one of the easiest decisions he'd made in a long life of hard calls. So why were you still sitting across from him and why was he still playing this game?

You pick up a stress ball off his desk that Donald had gotten him years ago (Cecil highly doubted he even remembered) and toy with it in your hands.

“You do know I'm not actually a kid right?” You retort

“You're still a kid to me, you're a third my age, rookie.” he watches the way you roll the ball between your hands, back and forth, back and forth.

“Put that down,” Cecil snaps, and you put it back on his desk, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Okay, well, I can consent is all I'm saying. Besides, you've been watching me too” you huff nonchalantly lounging against the seat.

Cecil stiffens at the accusation and sets his jaw in irritation. Watching you? Of course he had, he was the director of the GDA it was his job to watch you.

“I've been watching you because it's my job to make sure our new Guardian of the Globe isn't a liability” he answers cooly “Especially the reckless ones.”

That gets a snort out of you.

“Come on, boss, I've been on good behavior,” you say with a grin that drips with young cockiness and naivety and makes Cecil understand why he's losing hair.

It's irritating, both because you're a smug little bastard and because you aren't wrong. Cecil didn't need to look through your files or check in on the cameras to make sure you were getting on. All the reports said the same thing, a little rough around the edges in terms of discipline and skill but a very promising investment to both the team and GDA with great potential and a knack for following orders (especially when they came from Cecil himself).

“Plus-” you continue before he can lay his next words of disapproval down upon you. “-the fact you're even entertaining the conversation makes me think you're not as opposed to this as you're trying to make it seem.”

Ceci keeps his composure but internally, as much as he hates to admit it, you had a point. Despite all his reservations here the two of you were.

“Don't mistake tolerance for interest, kid.” he says a warning in his tone. “just because I'm listening to you does not mean I'm not opposed to this”

Your smile falters for a fraction of a moment before a new set of determination falls over you as you cross your arms.

“You're lying.” You cross your arms and fix Cecil with your own hard look forgetting the playful facade in favor of your own equally serious shift in mood.

“You barely let Samson talk about the weather but I get half an hour about jazz? I call bullshit.”

Cecil's eyes narrow at the accusation.

“I'm not lying I'm… omitting certain details.” He says crossing his own arms mimicking your stance, silently daring you to challenge him again.

“you mean the ones where you're interested in me?” You ask raising an eyebrow refusing to lose this little verbal tennis match.

“Interested is a strong word.” He replies cooly, but damn it all. Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

“It's more… tolerating your relentless advances.”

And there it was, acknowledgment of the subject he'd been dancing around.

“Oh, so you have noticed,” you reply pleased.

Cecil fixes you with an unimpressed look, as if he could miss the outrageous peacocking that had begun to take place in his presence. His only saving grace had been the fact that no one in their right mind would guess who you were showing off for.

“That's good, I was starting to think it was going to waste.” You continue unbothered.

Cecil grits his teeth, torn somewhere between annoyance and grudging respect. The rookie had persistence if nothing else.

"How can I not notice you constantly showing off for me," he retorts "You're like a damn puppy. All eager eyes and wagging tail."

“For some reason…” you drawl leaning your elbows on his desk. “I feel like that's your type”

“My type?” Cecil lets out a short laugh, caught off guard by the audacity of the statement.

“I'm not sure you want to know ‘my type’, kid. It's anything but fresh-faced overly eager do-gooders.”

You shrug.

“Maybe. Or maybe you don't mind what sort of outlook or attitude you get so long as you're listened to in the end.”

You trail your fingers over the nameplate on his desk, tracing out the engraved pattern of ‘Director Stedman’

“And I've never questioned your orders, sir.”

Cecil's gaze follows the movement of your fingertip, trying to ignore the stir in his chest.

“You don't question me because it's my job to keep your naive ass alive.”

“Why are you pretending you don't want me?” You fire back.

“is it such a big deal if you feel a little something for someone?”

Cecil feels his patience thin at how easy you make this sound, like he's some handsome stranger at a bar and not the director of the god damn GDA.

“It's not about feeling, and it's a little bit more than a ‘little something’ You're like a damn virus, always there infecting my thoughts.”

He pushes away from his desk, fist clenching at his side like a physical manifestation of the internal struggle he was feeling inside.

You frown and furrow your brows at the man at the firm reluctance on the other man's behalf.

“Why are you saying it like it's bad? I've been thinking about you too you know”

A sharp laugh escapes between his teeth, harsh and humorless.

“It is bad, kid. This… whatever this is, whatever feelings you think you have, it's dangerous.”

Cecil begins pacing the spot behind his desk, his steps quick and frustrated.

“This isn't some high school crush, you can't just move on when you realize how wrong it is.”

You huff slightly insulted by the implication.

“I've put a hell of a lot of effort into this for a ‘high school crush’” you reply unimpressed.

“I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't serious”

“How can you be serious? You're more than half my fucking age!”

Cecil runs a hand through his hair frustration etched into every line of his face. Despite his better judgment, he could feel his ability to keep up the argument waning.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales.

“What could I possibly offer you aside from a life time of trauma and a constant reminder I'll probably die before you hit your fourties?”

You wrinkle your nose at the distasteful words.

“you're sixty, not eighty, plus I have money on the fact that you'll manage to outlive Omni-Man on spite alone.” you muse before letting your expression fall into something more serious.

“but honestly? I don't care about that. I like you. I mean sure at first I just thought you were attractive but-” you continue before Cecil can make a smart comment. “-you're competent. Like overly competent. You're witty in conversation and I know you care more than you let on. Let the others say what they will but I've seen the things you do for people's families and for their safety, maybe the job limits what you can do with that good but that doesn't mean it's not there. I'd like to know that man.”

“You make me sound like a god damn saint” he mutters eyes flickering to yours.

Your words had hit more then a few nerves whether he liked it or not. Ones that deep down… he knew had already begun to fracture.

You sigh and meet his gaze, unwavering.

“I get it more then you think. I'm young, not stupid... I won't pretend it'll be an easy relationship but I'm in it to try.”

You pause before adding, “and if it makes you feel better I like that you're an asshole too.”

Despite everything, an amused smile plays at his lips and with it a small pang if affection.

“You like me because I'm a bastard? That's a new one I'll admit.” he retorts, dry humor in his voice.

“what can I say?” You shrug “your general irritation is charming.”

You watch him carefully knowing that this was the make it or break it moment.

“... Would it really be so bad? You've given your life to the GDA, you could use something nice behind closed doors.”

Something nice…

He could feel his feet on the metaphorical edge of whatever leap was ahead of him. He was being worn down with your persistence but what was scarier is that he didn't really want to fight it in the first place.

“You know how how this would look right? The director of a top secret defense agency dating some rookie hero?”

You can feel it. The way you've got him snagged.

“I won't let it affect my work performance, hell I'll sign an NDA if you want”

“an NDA, how romantic” he scoffs but there's an undercurrent of sarcastic amusement at the idea.

Despite his barbed words, he appreciates the practicality. It was, after all, one if the reasons he'd been drawn in in the first place.

He let's out an exasperated sigh.

“... You're too damn stubborn you know that?”

You grin, already knowing you've won.

“I'll grab my pen.”

[lovedahlia]

LOVERBOY ! SOLDIER BOY HEADCANONS ( 18+ ! )

. . . bc i'm feeling so incredibly mentally ill rn. lemme live in this fantasy. that i believe to be true & how my pookie beloved would BEEEEE. idc if u think it's ooc this is my canon.

ben greets you every time you see each other with a kiss on the back of the hand and some murmured words, like, "hey pretty."

he's constantly showering you with gifts.

flowers for when he does something bad, with a messy scrawled note that says "sorry for making you cry. kisses." or, "sorry i punched a hole through the door. love you." or, "not apologizing for beating that guy's face in. sorry it upset you though. kisses."

chocolates for when he comes over. two boxes, one for him, one for you, because he knows ( from previous experience ) that it irritates you when he'd steal from yours.

( it does not stop him still from stealing )

jewelry! every time he sees something that you would look pretty in! and he does the clasps for you.

he's a nuzzler. you made the mistake once of mentioning how his beardburn tickled and now he doesn't just aim to leave it between your thighs but he rubs his face on your neck and throat like a cat.

he's still gruff as fuck, but it's with more intent, now. he'll bend you over and throw your legs around and move you as he pleases but kisses each part along the way.

like. he puts your legs over his shoulders when you're pinned beneath him and kisses your ankle. he puts you on your hands and knees and trails little kisses down your spine.

don't get him started on hickeys. seriously. he bites.

the aftercare is so lovely with him :( he absolutely doesn't listen to your insistences that you're fine. he's already running a bath for you, WITH bubbles, even though it wastes your pretty soaps.

he just likes to be able to scoop some bubbles up and pile them on your head while you're in there <3 bc oh yeah, he is washing u. don't even try to argue.

long days = him not saying a word when he gets home = he's just immediately snatching you from wherever you are to drag you to the nearest seat so he can sit with you in his lap. many dinners have been burnt bc of this.

he likes when you play with his hair! it makes him feel like something gentle and kind and deserving of it, when you treat him so lovely. even though he only ever cares what people think of him with you, and only cares how he behaves in front of you.

praise <3 you could walk into a room and he'd be like "my pretty baby's so damn steady on their feet, my god." he wants you to have the biggest ego on the planet actually

he also likes to remind you of how well you take him when he's fucking you.

he WILL and DOES pay attention to your cues. you're overwhelmed? need a break? he's not questioning it. maybe he'll tease you that "you didn't need a break last time he was so rough" but that's all.

forehead kisses. he is tall. he is kissing the top of your head, your forehead, or your temple, whenever he damn pleases.

he has probably killed people for looking at you wrong or being mean to you. at the very least he threatens it, because how could someone be mean to you? you? his baby? the one who's never done a thing wrong in your life?

. . . of course my first post over here is me being soldier boy's biggest simp in the universe. kissin the ground he walks on. literally im there on the ground rn doin it do u see me.

tags <3 @figthoughts @honeyryewhiskey @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @aileenunfiltered @bluemerakis @deansbite @beausling @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @angelblqde i don't remember all my mooties to tag over here ... if u are forgotten pls take me out back n shoot me 4 this mistake.

property of the DAYLIGHTED franchise! © i do NOT give permission for my work or ideas to be used, rewritten, or reposted!

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #39

Timeline, which timeline?

Imagine dis…

It is always with the future going to the past, even with the limited time travel fics I see in the DC x DP tags it is always the future going back to the past to prevent something whether it is the end of the timeline or it is when Dan went back in time to ensure his younger self does the same thing to create him.

Flash family members going back in time to prevent another apocalypse, but let me offer you another idea here that involves my favorite tags.

….

Danny finds himself on another time-related mission in courtesy to Clockwork also known lovingly by the gremlin child as CW. At this point, Danny was no longer a stranger to the impromptu missions and errands by CW to fix timelines or to ensure a certain event happens. It happens too frequently to the point it turns Danny into an expert in exploring the past without creating a stray butterfly effect. As he got older, though 16 years old is still not adult whether you came from a related mission Danny.

Danny knows the importance of blending in choosing, rather than stealing, clothes that are time and period-accurate/authentic both in and out of the appearance of the clothing despite irritating his skin. Rather than buying clothes from the modern era aka his timeline he quickly saw how vastly different clothes feel and were created during such time. Danny even took the time by using CW’s medallion to stop time briefly to learn period-specific slang and mannerisms that made him look like he was part of their time.

Danny learning? Something that isn't about space, what’s more, it is about history?

Let’s just say, it was after a particularly embarrassing slip-up during his mission in a Victorian timeline.

As Danny went to more missions he began to understand how delicate time is, how Clockwork gambled with Fate in terms of him despite it was even before he had CW’s time medallion.

…

It was the early 1600s, and it was another time mission by CW to accompany some guy named Samuel Wayne and his wife toward an unnamed part of the US. Sorta became their guide and defacto bodyguard to the couple as CW gave him a brief explanation of how the couple is important in modern times.

As he waved goodbye to the couple that had just settled down to their newly built mansion, just as he was to open a portal home the ground below him began to open like some sort of portal. It wasn’t any portal the Ghost Zone could naturally form. As he fell through the mysterious portal he cant help but sigh a relief as the portal opened below him without any people to witness this.

…

It sent him tumbling across time, as moments later he landed hard on the concrete which after taking a quick feel and looking around the place he concluded to be in his time. It was a fight, between the JL heroes and some guys dressed in white. Not the GIW but scientists if he sees those formulas correctly.  

Before he could even think of going ghost or even turning invisible he was scooped up by a hero that he didn’t much recognize and fled from the fight with him in tow.

Even after the battle he tries to sneak out but for some reason, the entire JL is looking at him, especially Batman.

…

 To understand what on earth Is the JL doing, let’s go back a week prior.

The JL faced multiple threats from both in and out of their home planet so believe me when I say they have seen it all. This time, it is unique, they had heard in the form of vague rumors. Some scientists preach about their knowledge in creating a working time machine without any alien tech or magic to help it power it o, they only needed a sponsor to do it. Of course, all brush them off, after all, all bright minds are either already required by the heroes or by the villains themselves. When they hadn't heard from those wacko's for a while they just thought that those quacks stopped when they noticed nobody was going to take them seriously.

The heroes thought wrong, someone gave those scientists the funding they needed and was able to create a time machine fueled by one of Earth’s most toxic naturally occurring substances known by mankind.

Though the benefactor of the said scientists mysteriously vanished, the scientists on the other hand hired goons to be their bodyguards from anyone who dared to try to steal their work, as goons also cost less than hiring an actual bodyguard. The heroes were only summoned as the substance that was used not only did they have no proper certification but also they were following another lead thus leading some of the JL heroes who are in charge of the case towards the said scientist's headquarters.

They had just pulled the lever to test their machine, fearing for the worst and the thought of a rather large explosion due to the hazard around them started an immediate and forced evacuation as some of the scientists lifted a chair to defend their work, when it suddenly spat out something.

A young man dressed in what looked like a 1600s era of fashion, black hair and blue eyes. Looking bewildered at the sight around him, before anyone could even stop and think at what had just happened they immediately scooped out everyone outside just in time for an explosion to occur.

Of course, the scientists who were rescued are crying at their life’s work being blown up to nothing but ashes.

The rest of the heroes on the other hand are panicking, not only do their machinery work but they manage to pull someone from the past.

At first, they thought that he was just a civilian but when he uttered his name all eyes turned to Batman for help.

…

Danny didn’t like being interrogated while also maintaining his 1600 persona, as much as he would like to geek out to the heroes he still needed to maintain his mask. He didn’t come out to a portal that was made by CW add the fact that the majority of said heroes also saw him come out of that weird portal, so when they asked him for his name he gave them Samuel’s name to throw off them.

Still maintaining his persona, now adding Samuel’s lore to his acting, asked who are they and that he needed to get back his carriage to his now wife to find themselves a home.

Now he is surrounded by the vigilantes mainly from Gotham, with each of them being his bodyguard and his babysitter as Danny tries to exaggerate and be surprised and in awe of practically everything, from the floor to the glass to the food he ate.

As much as he would like to just swallow up the greasy cheeseburger he was given, he needed to gag and be horrified as he remembered the actual food he tasted during the times Samuel and his wife shared their food with him.

He just hopes the Robin with the sword would stop at subtly tell him about how great his linage would be, he barely has time for both the time missions that CW sends him and also his school work he does not want this about his love life in front of a kid.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[sonarspace]

༉ BLOW OUT ALL THE CANDLES ! (S. GOJO)

꒰ synopsis. you made satoru gojo feel something he rarely ever did—normal, and undeniably special.

content. not proofread. nsfw. öral. blöwjob. cöwgirl (sorta.) orgasms (kinda?).

wc. 3.8k

an. happy birthday to my satoru pie. i love you forever.

satoru gojo didn’t care much for birthdays.

they weren’t a big deal when he was a kid. in his family, birthdays were less about celebration and more about the clan’s ambitions. they were opportunities to build connections, to showcase the strength of the gojo name. grand dinners with stiff smiles, meticulously chosen gifts meant to impress, and the constant reminder that his life wasn’t just his—it belonged to the clan.

as he got older, birthdays became… stranger. his peers either avoided him out of intimidation or fawned over him out of obligation. a few clumsy celebrations with shoko and suguru had been nice, but even those were fleeting, bittersweet reminders of a time he didn’t let himself dwell on. over the years, he perfected the art of shrugging them off. a careless smirk, a throwaway joke, and people stopped trying to make a big deal of it.

but you weren’t most people.

so when the doorbell to his apartment rang on his birthday evening, he didn’t expect much. maybe yuuji or nobara with some half-baked chaos to drag him into, or shoko dropping off cheap booze alongside a biting remark about his eternal man-child status. what he wasn’t expecting was you.

you stood there, a box of cupcakes balanced in one hand and a single cupcake in the other, topped with a tiny, flickering candle.

“what’s this?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe, his grin lazy but curious. “you come to serenade me?”

“in your dreams,” you retorted, brushing past him and into the warmth of his apartment without waiting for an invitation. “happy birthday, satoru.”

he blinked, caught off guard by your casual entrance and the lack of fanfare. you set the box on the coffee table and placed the lone cupcake beside it, turning to face him with your arms crossed, like you weren’t about to take no for an answer.

“make a wish,” you said, nodding toward the flickering candle.

“a cupcake?” he teased, his voice laced with mock disbelief as he moved closer. “no fireworks? no parade?”

“you get enough attention,” you replied with a shrug. “i figured you could use something normal for once.”

the word hit him unexpectedly. normal. it was such an ordinary thing, so far removed from the fabric of his life, yet the way you said it, like it wasn’t out of reach for him—like you could give it to him—made it feel almost tangible.

his grin softened as he lowered himself onto the couch, his gaze lingering on the candle a beat longer than necessary. he hesitated, the faintest flicker of vulnerability crossing his features, before he leaned forward and blew it out. the flame disappeared in a curl of smoke, and he watched it fade as if expecting something more to happen.

“what’d you wish for?” you asked, settling beside him, your tone light, but your curiosity barely hidden.

he leaned back, draping one arm across the couch’s back, the smirk slipping easily back into place. “if i told you, it wouldn’t come true.”

you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “oh, i’ve got it. you wished for the power to finally stop using so much hair gel.”

his laugh was instant, warm and unguarded. “excuse you. this is natural. flawless, even.”

“of course,” you said, rolling your eyes with exaggerated seriousness. “how could i forget? the hair, the face, the attitude—you’re a walking genetic miracle.”

“now you’re catching on,” he replied, leaning slightly closer. “being this amazing isn’t easy.”

“it sounds exhausting,” you said, mirroring his smirk. “you should write a memoir. ‘satoru gojo: the struggles of being too beautiful for this world.’”

he placed a hand over his heart, feigning a dramatic sigh. “you wound me. but let’s be honest—you’d buy a copy.”

“wrong. i’d steal one,” you quipped. “wouldn’t pay a cent.”

his laughter softened as he shook his head, his grin fading into something smaller, quieter as he glanced at the box. he pulled it open and grabbed a cupcake, peeling the wrapper with an almost boyish carelessness. his first bite was deliberate, and the faint hum of approval he let out made your stomach flip, though you didn’t dare show it.

“what?” you asked, catching the subtle shift in his expression.

he shook his head, licking a stray bit of frosting from his thumb. “nothing. just… been a while since i’ve had something like this.”

“a cupcake?” you teased lightly.

“something simple,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “this feels… nice.”

the words lingered, unpolished and unintentional, like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. you studied him for a moment, the usual bravado softened, the ever-present walls of gojo satoru slipping away to reveal something more vulnerable underneath.

“you deserve nice things,” you said, your voice gentle but firm.

he glanced at you, his smirk faltering for just a moment before creeping back, though it was softer this time. “careful,” he said, his tone playful, “you’re starting to sound like you like me.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you shot back, bumping his shoulder lightly.

his chuckle was low, and when he leaned back into the couch, his expression was unguarded, his gaze steady. “too late,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you already made my day.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his tone lingered, settling deep in your chest like an ember refusing to burn out. it was the kind of warmth that reminded you this wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world sitting next to you, the untouchable, larger-than-life gojo satoru who wore his arrogance like armor. this was just him—barefoot in his apartment, smirking over a cupcake, his guard down in a way you rarely got to see.

and as the thought settled over you, steady and sure, you realized you wanted to keep him like this—unguarded, real, and yours, if only for tonight.

the two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that. the cupcake led to takeout, and soon the coffee table was littered with empty containers, the sound of your laughter filling the quiet apartment.

you’d known satoru for years now, ever since your paths crossed during a particularly chaotic mission that required his abilities and your steady resourcefulness to pull off. somehow, your friendship had stuck. you weren’t part of his clan, nor a student at his school. you were simply you—a constant in his otherwise turbulent life.

“so, birthdays,” you said at one point, your tone casual. “not your thing?”

he shrugged, popping the last bite of your dumplings into his mouth before replying. “they’re just… another day.”

you raised an eyebrow. “seriously? not even a little excitement?”

he hesitated, his usual cocky demeanor faltering just slightly. “when you’re me, birthdays are… complicated.”

you didn’t push, but the way you looked at him—curious, patient—made something in him unravel.

“when i was a kid, they were more about the clan than me,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “every party, every gift—it was all about connections. alliances. showing off what the gojo name could do.”

your expression softened, the weight of his words settling over you. “that sounds… lonely.”

he gave a half-smile, his gaze flickering to the melted wax still pooled on the cupcake. “yeah,” he said softly. “it was.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a moment before speaking. “what about what you want?”

he blinked, caught off guard by the question. “what i want?”

“yeah,” you said, leaning back against the couch. “what would make your birthday feel special?”

he didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting to the candle. “this,” he said finally, his voice softer. “this is nice.”

later, as the night wound down, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. “i got you something,” you said, your voice softer now, your fingers fidgeting slightly as you handed it to him.

he took it with a curious look, tearing into the wrapping with his usual enthusiasm. when he lifted the lid, his expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features.

inside was a sleek, custom-designed blindfold. the material was a soft, matte black with subtle silver detailing at the edges—practical but elegant. as he turned it over in his hands, you could see the faintest flicker of emotion cross his usually carefree expression.

“figured you might like something a little different,” you said, your tone almost shy as you watched him. “still functional, of course, but… you know, something that’s actually yours.”

he ran his thumb over the stitching, his voice quiet. “you had this made?”

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks. “i just thought you'd like something that’s just… you.”

his throat tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. he turned the blindfold over in his hands, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something quieter, more vulnerable. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“i wanted to,” you replied simply.

he looked up at you then, his usually mischievous eyes holding something deeper. “this might be the best gift i’ve ever gotten,” he said softly.

you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the sudden weight of the moment. “well, don’t get used to it. next year, it’s back to birthday cards.”

he chuckled, slipping the blindfold into his pocket with a small, genuine smile. “thank you,” he said again, his voice low and sincere.

the quiet shifted, the weight of the day settling in as the distance between you felt like it had shrunk into nothing. it wasn’t just the laughter, or the teasing, or even the gift. it was the way he looked at you now, unguarded and steady, like you’d managed to slip past the walls he kept so carefully built.

“satoru,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. the sound of his name made him shift closer, his hand moving to your waist, his touch light but deliberate.

“hmm?” he hummed, his gaze dropping to your lips.

“happy birthday,” you said softly, and then his lips were on yours.

his lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and reverence, like he couldn’t get enough but wanted to savor every second. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, his body warm and solid against yours. every touch, every kiss, felt like it carried the weight of all the things he wasn’t saying aloud.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm as his nose brushed yours.

“you haven’t seen anything yet,” you teased, though your voice came out softer than you intended. he chuckled, the sound low and rich, vibrating through you as he kissed along the line of your jaw.

his hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it up with maddening slowness, his fingertips grazing your sides and sending shivers down your spine. the shirt joined the growing pile of forgotten items on the floor, leaving you in just your bra. his eyes flicked over you, his smirk fading into something darker, more intent.

“beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. the way his gaze lingered on you, like he was committing every detail to memory, made your cheeks flush.

you opened your mouth to say something, but then he was reaching for the cupcake you’d brought. his grin returned, wide and mischievous as he scooped a dollop of frosting onto his finger.

“satoru,” you started, already suspicious. “don’t—”

but he was already leaning forward, smearing the frosting just above your collarbone, the coolness of it making you shiver.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

“i’m creative,” he corrected, his grin widening as his mouth followed, his tongue warm and deliberate as he licked the frosting away. the contrast of cold and heat sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “want to know what i wished for?”

your heart stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “what?”

his lips curved into a softer smile—less playful, more genuine. “this,” he murmured. “you.”

the words landed heavy in the space between you, sinking into your chest and stealing the air from your lungs. the teasing glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something raw and unguarded that made your chest ache.

“satoru,” you murmured, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it. it felt more vulnerable than you meant it to, but the way his expression softened in response made you glad you’d said it.

“say it again,” he whispered, his hand reaching for more frosting. this time, he smeared it just above the curve of your breast, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down, his tongue following the sugary trail. the warmth of his mouth, paired with the way his hand slid behind you to unclasp your bra, had your breath hitching.

“satoru,” you gasped, your back arching instinctively as his lips lingered against your skin.

“good girl,” he growled softly, the praise sending heat straight to your core. he tossed your bra aside, his gaze dropping to take in the sight of you fully. “god, you’re perfect.”

his hands framed your ribs, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch again. “best birthday ever,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he pressed a kiss between your breasts.

his cerulean eyes glinted mischievously as he suddenly shifted, his hands gripping your hips as he turned, placing you back on the couch with a smooth motion. the world tilted, and before you could register what was happening, he was on his knees in front of you, his broad hands parting your thighs gently, reverently.

“satoru,” you murmured, your voice shaky as he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm against you.

“shh,” he whispered, his tone full of appreciation. “let me take my time with you.”

his lips moved slowly, trailing kisses over your thighs before dipping closer to your center, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. you gasped as he found your clit, his tongue pressing firm and wet against it, sending a shock of pleasure through your body. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open as he worked you with a precision that made your toes curl.

“you’re so perfect,” he muttered against you, his voice thick with praise. “taste so sweet—so good for me.”

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as the heat built low in your stomach. every swipe of his tongue, every low hum he let out, sent sparks through your body, but when your hips bucked into his mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from tugging harder, yanking him back.

he groaned softly at the sharp pull, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, dazed and hungry. “what are you—”

before he could finish, you pushed him back, your hands firm on his shoulders as you guided him down to the floor. his surprise melted into delight, his grin wide and playful as he propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with open curiosity.

“my turn,” you said, grabbing another cupcake from the table with a smirk.

his brow lifted in amusement, but the playful look in his eyes didn’t waver, even as you smeared the frosting across his sharp jawline. the sticky sweetness painted his pale skin, and you leaned down, your tongue darting out to clean the frosting in slow, deliberate strokes. his breathing hitched as you kissed the trail from his cheek to the corner of his lips, the sugary taste mingling with the salt of his skin.

“another present?” he teased, his voice low and velvety, laced with intrigue.

you didn’t answer, your lips brushing against his jawline, tracing a path to his throat. his breath caught as your tongue flicked against the hollow of his neck, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness. the fabric fell away, revealing the smooth planes of his chest, the faint sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the dim light.

“you’re a menace,” he muttered, his voice dropping as his hands came up to your waist.

“consider it a gift,” you replied, your tone light but teasing as your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your palms.

“some gift,” he murmured, his tone roughening as his fingers brushed against the hem of your shirt. his gaze locked onto yours, the heat in his expression making your stomach tighten.

“you’re welcome,” you quipped, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his collarbone. your lips moved lower, trailing kisses down the sharp lines of his torso, leaving a path of heat in your wake. he let out a low groan, his fingers flexing against your hips as you reached the waistband of his pants.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he muttered, his voice thick with anticipation as you unfastened his belt and tugged the fabric down.

your gaze drifted lower, taking in the sight of him fully. his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip and glistening with precum. the sight made your thighs press together instinctively, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach.

“what’s the matter?” he teased, his voice a bit uneven as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you. “you look like you’ve seen something you like.”

“you could say that,” you replied, your voice breathy as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking slowly. the weight of him in your hand was intoxicating, the heat of his skin sending a shiver through you. his breath hitched, and his head fell back, exposing the column of his throat as he groaned softly.

“fuck,” he muttered, his hands tightening on your hips. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

“that’s the plan,” you replied with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to taste him.

his reaction was immediate—a sharp inhale, his hands flexing against the floor as he fought to keep still. “shit,” he rasped, his voice rough as his gaze dropped to meet yours. “don’t stop.”

you didn’t. your tongue flicked against him, teasing before you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you worked him slowly. his breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each deliberate stroke of your tongue.

“look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. your eyes flicked up, meeting his gaze. his blue eyes were darker now, clouded with desire, and the sight of him—his chest heaving, his jaw tight, his lips parted—made your thighs clench with need.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice a mix of awe and desperation. “you’re too good at this.”

you hummed softly in response, the vibration pulling a low groan from him. your hand joined your mouth, stroking the base of his cock in time with your movements, and the combination had his head falling back again, his hips twitching beneath you.

just as he seemed on the verge of losing control, you pulled back, your lips leaving him with a soft pop. his eyes flew open, wild and questioning, as he looked down at you.

“another present,” you said, your voice teasing as you climbed back up his body, your lips pressing to his jaw, his neck, his collarbone.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you settled over him, the slick heat of your core brushing against him.

“only a little,” you replied, your grin wicked as your hands braced against his chest, your hips rolling against his in a slow, deliberate grind.

his hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as you moved together, his cock buried deep inside you. the wet, slick sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mingling with the soft gasps and ragged breaths you couldn’t contain. his gaze locked on yours, heavy-lidded and full of heat, and it made every nerve in your body ignite.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. his hands gripped your hips tighter, guiding your movements as his hips rolled up to meet you, each thrust deeper and more deliberate than the last.

your hands braced against his chest, your nails scraping lightly over the hard planes of muscle as you rode him. the drag of his cock against your walls, the way he filled you completely, sent waves of pleasure through you. his jaw was tight, his head tipped back slightly as he watched you through half-lidded eyes.

“satoru,” you gasped, your voice breaking on the syllables as he thrust up into you harder, hitting the perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“say it again,” he growled, his voice commanding. his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as his hips snapped up into you. “say my name.”

“satoru,” you whimpered, your breath hitching as your body trembled against his. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you kissed him, your lips brushing against his in a frantic, heated rhythm.

his movements grew faster, more desperate, as he chased his release. his hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that made you cry out, your head falling to his shoulder as your body arched into his touch.

“come for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “let me feel you.”

the coil in your stomach tightened, the heat building until it was unbearable. and then it snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in waves that left you trembling in his arms. your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and the sound he let out—a low, guttural groan—made your head spin.

“fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you one last time. his cock pulsed inside you, his release warm and overwhelming as he buried himself deep, his head falling to your shoulder as his breathing turned ragged.

you stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, your bodies pressed so close it was impossible to tell where you ended and he began. his hands slid up your back, his touch gentle now, almost reverent, as he held you close.

“you’re amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. the words were quiet, but they carried a weight that made your chest ache in the best way.

“happy birthday,” you murmured, your voice soft as your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release.

he chuckled softly, the sound warm and full of something you couldn’t quite name. “best birthday ever,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “you’re welcome.”

his arms tightened around you, pulling you down against his chest, his body warm and solid beneath you. the world outside faded, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, steady and grounding.

“stay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as his eyes began to close.

“always,” you whispered, your hand sliding to rest against his chest as your own eyes drifted shut.

for the first time in years, satoru gojo didn’t just feel celebrated. he felt loved.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[kamiversee]

So Obsessed With You ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Gojo Satoru couldn’t let you go, not when you were so close to getting off on his leg. But, perhaps it would've been better if you left instead of staying just to finish...

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, smut, dirty talk, language, pet names, slight manhandling, Gojo's really cocky & has a thing for mocking the reader apparently.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 7k

"Oh fuck-, S-Satoru wait," You moaned into the air as Gojo got carried away in kissing you. Your back was against his apartment door by this point and he had one of his legs in between yours, his hands on your hips and his lips all over your neck.

Gojo sucked, licked, and even nibbled all over you, his hands feeling all parts of your body as he did so. You felt him knead your ass in his grasp as his focus went just under your jaw, soft smacks of his tongue and lips against you filling the air.

“You said I could kiss you,” Gojo hums. His voice was so low, lower than you’d heard it in a while.

One of his hands slides up and you sigh when you feel his fingers run over your chest, gently groping you as his kisses trail back up. His eyes meet yours for less than a second before he steals your breath by crashing his lips into yours again.

“M-Mmh,” You hum, feeling as his tongue works the insides of your mouth and his leg rubs against your clothed sex, “T-This… This isn't just k-kissing,” You mumble against him.

Gojo moves to clasp your lower lip in between his teeth and as he gives your skin a slight tug, his eyes open and both of you make contact through a low-lidded gaze. “Should I stop?” He asks huskily.

His eyes were drowning in lust, his leg yet to stop the constant rub over your cunt. You were getting all too worked up over this and your breathing grew unstable, “Ha-ah… Y-Yeah, maybe…” You hum.

He tilts his head, “Maybe? You sound unsure, sweetheart.” His thigh suddenly angles a bit differently and presses up against your clit.

Your jaw drops, “S-Shit,” You whine.

“If you want me to stop then tell me to stop-”

“Don’t s-stop,” You breathe out, confused by what you want at this point, rolling your hips forward against his leg.

Gojo bites his lip, “We shouldn’t be doing this, y’know.”

“Then you stop,” Your voice was so light and airy already, simply over some kisses and the slightest touches.

“I won’t if you don’t tell me to.” He tells you.

You shake your head, “I s-should be… mmgh,” You fold over a bit as his leg rubs over you just right, “Should’ be leaving…” You manage out.

Gojo snickers, “Then leave, sweets.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and move to grab onto his arm, “Then s-stop… haah… stop-, mmh… moving your leg,” You moan.

He’s trying his best to control himself but… He hasn’t seen you like this in months. Gojo forgot how whiney and fidgety you get when you’re flustered and turned on. The sight aroused him like crazy.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Gojo teases, “I might cum in my pants if you seriously get off on my leg right now.”

Your head flips up to him with a glare, “We shouldn’t be doing this. I-It was supposed to be one little k-kiss… mmmh…”

“When is it ever one little kiss, love?” He asks softly.

“I can’t stand you,” You breathe out.

“Mhm,” Gojo nods, “I know. But you know the second option for you if that’s the case.” You furrow your brows and he makes up for his lack of explanation, “You can pick my face or my lap, either way, if you can’t stand me then sit on me.”

You roll your eyes at him and move to straighten yourself up. Abruptly, his leg kneads up into your pussy and you release a very light moan, your eyes flickering for a moment, “O-Okay… fuck..."

"Okay... what? Do you actually want me to stop? Hm?" Gojo teased, tilting his head at you and giving you that stupid taunting look of his.

A slight groan leaves your lips and you just shake your head, "No," You gasp when he flexes his thigh for you, aiding your needy cunt in getting off, "Keep goin'... hah, I'm c-close, I think..."

Gojo narrows his eyes at you, "You think? The hell does that mean? Are you about to cum or not, love?"

Your head shakes. You're so confused by this point. Gojo only a few minutes ago told you he was obsessed with you and yet here you are humping his leg like you're in heat. It was embarrassing but somewhere deep down, or maybe not so deep down, you missed this-, you missed sex with Gojo.

And now more than ever were you aching for it. Why? Was something about Gojo Satoru being an obsessive freak turning you on? Did you want to dip into that dark area of his and find out how he expresses his obsession in bed?

"Jus' shut up and keep going," You huff out desperately, torso leaning forward as your head rests on him and your hips move over his leg.

The man scoffs, "You're so demanding,” Gojo teases as the hands placed on your hips continue to aid you in your grinding.

“Shut up,” You whine softly.

Gojo shifts a bit, inclining his head down ever so slightly just to put his lips to your ear, “Make me,” He challenges.

You groan and the hands you had clinging onto his shirt curl a bit as you grip onto him tighter, “You’re so annoying, shit.”

A playful smirk splits across his handsome face, “And you’re needy,” Gojo whispers into your ear, his voice making you let out a moan, “It’s cute y'know— watchin’ you get off on my thigh… s’this all you want though?”

“H-Hm?” You hum in confusion, back arching a bit as you rotate your hips for more friction.

“I can give you more,” Gojo suddenly offers, his breath hitting the shell of your ear as he talks in such a sensual manner, “I can give you my cock,” He tells you, voice dipping down into something lower and almost demanding.

You gulp and lift your head a bit, turning to meet his gaze and noticing your lips are madly close to one another, “Satoru,” You whine, frowning as you mentally try to figure out what it is you want.

He tilts his head and his gaze is down on your lips in an instant, a hungry glint embedded into his eyes, “Yes?”

“I’m supposed to b-be leaving” You mumble. The heat radiating off his body, pulsing in between your legs, flushing your face-, all of it was too much.

Gojo snickers but his grip tightens on your hips, almost in a way that tells you he’s not letting you go anywhere. “Then leave,” He hums, “But I’m just sayin’… Y’know, we could fuck one last time.”

There's this clench he feels over his thigh, the sensation making him smirk as he realizes it was your cunt reacting to his words.

Shaking your head, “W-We shouldn’t,” You sigh.

He shrugs, “But we can.”

Gojo’s leaning in closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours and god the scent of his cologne is dizzying, this light waft of mint hitting your skin as he parts his lips. You’re staring down at them, nearly melting into his nonexistent touch.

“S-Satoru,” You whisper again.

“One more time,” He pleads, “That’s all I ask.”

Steadily, your eyes lift to him and you notice he’s looking directly into your gaze. It was so intimate, so longing, so needy. Oh screw what your mind and maybe your heart wants, your body wanted him more than anything.

Hence why you’re nodding slightly and leaning into him, your lips connecting with one other in one quick motion.

The second Gojo’s lips are on yours, he’s lost his mind again— large hands sliding up to your waist, pushing you back off his leg and up against the wall. His teeth part your lips and his tongue pushes in, he was devouring you.

His lips were plush, soft like clouds, and you just melted against him like always. The hands on your waist slipped down in one swift movement, only to jerk up but under your shirt and feel your skin beneath his smooth skin.

“I’ll make you feel so good, love,” He breathes into your mouth, to which you smile against his lips, arms rising to wrap around his neck and pull him impossibly closer.

One of your hands trailed up a little, fingertips grazing his undercut and making him groan into your mouth.

Then, you smirked, “You’re so sensitive, ‘Toru,” You point out against him, fingers dipping down to his nape and twirling over his skin just to hear the way he pants lightly against you.

“M’weak for you,” He mumbles, both of you messily making out and smiling against each other like a pair of fools unknowingly in love with each other in such a twisted way. “So weak,” He whispers.

This time you’re pushing your tongue into his mouth and your body lifts a bit as you stand on your tippy toes, arms swiftly wrapping around his neck in full whilst the two of you tilt your head in opposing directions to gain more access to each other’s mouth.

You were hot, he was hot-, both of your bodies were heating up and the kissing became more and more passionate-, almost loving. Gojo weighs himself forward a bit and your entire backside is smushed against the wall of his apartment before your leg brushes against his crotch and you feel the hefty bulge resting there.

Your lips pry from his with a heavy smack echoing into the air, both of your mouths left open as your eyes peel open and you two make eye contact again.

Tension. There was so much tension between your gazes. Suddenly, you’re nodding a little, “One more time?”

He flashes a half-smile, “One more time.” He repeats in agreement.

A final and quick kiss is shared between you two before he pulls your shirt up over your head and you’re trying to tug at his. It seems he had no plans on moving from this very spot so, in a way, you already knew he was about to fuck you against the wall.

Were you complaining? Of course not, especially not when it all happens so fast. First, he’s undressing you and caressing your body tenderly. Then he’s tugging your bra off just to grab ahold of your body, spin you around, and proceed to push you face-first against the wall.

Gojo’s in your ear as your cheek presses into the cold structure, “Spread your legs,” He orders, voice husk.

There’s a chill that runs down your spine but that’s okay, you didn’t care— you need this-, need him. Knowing he was obsessed with you just made the entire interaction all the more better for you.

Which is why you’re taking it a step further and ridding yourself of all clothing from the waist down, leaving yourself standing naked and drenched for him.

He doesn’t even try to hold in the groan that leaves his throat as he settles his eyes on every inch of your unclothed body. “Fuck-, I love you,” Gojo suddenly murmurs, “Yeah, I love you.” He blindly repeats.

You snicker a little and then move, pressing your hands up against the wall as you step back a little, legs parting and back shifting into this slutty arch for him.

Gojo nods, unknowingly smiling, “Mhm, tha’s good,” He breathes.

It takes a second for him, as if he were processing this entire situation-- he was really about to have sex with you again. Right here, right now. This was real, you were real.

After his little mental moment, he's moving again and you don't even see as he messily strips himself, the most you acknowledge is the feeling of his hands on your hips again, fingers digging into your skin, and the sudden nudge of his flushed tip against your folds.

He wasn't even thinking about foreplay, your grinding on his legs should've been enough, right?

Yeah, not exactly because despite your cunt being a dripping mess and slicking up his cock as he shallowly rubs himself in between your folds just to tease you, when Gojo starts easing his dick inside you your jaw drops and you seem to have forgotten how big he was.

Angling a hand back, your fingers graze his chest while a staggered gasp leaves your throat, "S-Satoru wait, fuck."

Gojo smiles and tilts his head, one hand moving to grab ahold of the arm you brought back, "What? Why're you pushin' me away?"

You tried to respond but fuck-, his cock was slipping into you inch by inch by inch. Gojo's face is flushed already, his eyes down on how your cunt parts just to take him. He was getting dizzy at the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around his length, a slight groan leaving him.

He breathes out your name before leaning his torso forward, lips moving to your ear, "Relax, sweetheart," He whispers to you softly.

You think you got butterflies at the sound of his words as if he wasn't in the process of splitting you open.

Gojo's breath hitches, "F-Fuck, you gotta relax, you're fuckin'... squeezin' the hell outta' me," He whines, hands settling on your hips again as he angles his head down to your neck and kisses you, "Relax, please."

His voice was so soft and caring with you, the sound and his gesture of kissing you so lovingly making your heart flutter and your body ease up. Gojo's pushing in and in and in until he couldn't anymore, the tip of his cock just nuzzled against your sweet spot without even moving yet.

Once he's there, Gojo stills for a moment, simply relishing your warmth and letting out these heavy breaths against your skin. Your pussy was so warm and wet-, no-, soaked. Did you really get this turned on by him kissing you? Does his lips drive you this crazy?

Open-mouthed kisses are suddenly being pressed against the side of your neck and your lashes flutter a bit as Gojo begins to draw his hips back and then eases his cock in and out at a slow and tender pace.

Then, his lips reach just under your ear, "Did you forget how to take me or somethin'?" He teases.

You could feel him smiling a bit and you scoff, "N-No... mmgh, you can... hahh, you can g-go faster 'Toru," You tell him, to which he chuckles.

"You're already stuttering though," Gojo snickers, his pelvis pressing flush against your ass as his length bottoms you out, again making your eyes flicker.

"T-That's cause you-," A moan leaves your lips as Gojo rolls his hips into you slowly, reaching impossibly deeper, "Fuuck, why're you s-so... ahh..."

Gojo tilts his head, "So what, hm?"

"Deep," You whine, moving a hand to try and push him away again.

He finds it cute how you were trying to get him to let up on you when he wasn't even moving anywhere remotely fast— Gojo was doing nothing more than stroking your insides at such a mellow pace, caressing your cunt with his cock and forcing you to feel every inch and vein that trailed along his shaft.

So, he laughs, "I can go deeper," Gojo whispers, watching the way your eyes widen and you shake your head a little.

"You're deep enough," You hum out against the wall.

He nods, "Alright then, I can at least go faster now, right?"

"Mhmm," You agree, moving your hands away from him and back to the wall.

There's one last chuckle that leaves Gojo before he's pulling his hips back and then thrusting his cock in harshly once, twice, three times-, fuck he was working up a mean pace within seconds.

Gojo leans his face away from your neck so that he can look down at his actions, hands gripping onto your hips as he watches his shaft disappear inside you only to reappear within a second covered in you. The sight of your cunt leaving a messy coat of slick around his cock makes him bite his lower lip.

And it was loud too, wet sounds of your pussy urging him deeper in with his every thrust made Gojo’s head spin. You told him he was reaching too deep and yet your cunt was gripping and tugging him in such a way that told him the opposite.

“Hahh, fuck,” Gojo breathes out before his hips pick up in speed. Thrust after thrust after thrust, you began to unapologetically moan with every one.

Whatever Gojo may have lacked in thickness, his fucking inches made up for it— hell, you don’t even know if he was pushing his cock all the way in each time he knocked into you. The most you could tell was that you were full of him and he was reaching all the right spots with no problem.

The hands placed on your hips suddenly pull you back to meet a harsh thrust, the abrupt jerk of your body causing him to reach deep inside you.

Your jaw drops, eyes widen, and a broken moan pours out your mouth, breath hot against the wall as Gojo continues behind you. You thought it was bad already as his thrusting turned into pounding, his heavy balls smacking against you as his pace picked up.

“Satoru-, hhngh… f-fuck,” You moaned, nails scraping against the wall in front of you as you tried to steady yourself.

“Fuck,” Gojo curses, head tossing back, “I forgot how loud you get,” He says with a grin on his face.

That doesn’t deter the moans from spilling out your mouth, “Hahh, ahh, m-mmgh,” You think you wanted to say something but you’re not sure what by this point.

The man suddenly leans forward again, aggressively stuffing every inch of his cock into you, tip mashing into the hilt of your cunt as his lips near your ear, “Shhh, do you want my neighbors to hear you?”

How could he ask you such a thing with himself buried all the way in? Your legs quaked a bit and you nearly fell over because of how far his dick reached. How did you ever handle this man before?

So when yet another moan exits the very back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes, Gojo only smiles.

“Fine then, be fuckin’ loud,” He scoffs as he pulls his hips back. Then, his voice drops even lower as he fucks you right into the wall, “Let ‘em hear what a slut you are f’me,” Gojo whispers.

That makes your back arch even more, almost in a way that said you wanted to escape his harsh thrusts. There was drool escaping the corner of your mouth before you even rendered it, Gojo’s twitching cock hitting this spot inside you that simply made your mind go blank.

Your eyes crossed a little as the hands on your hips continued to tug your body back to meet his harsh thrusts, dick slipping in and out and in and out-, he filled you up so perfectly.

But it certainly didn’t help that Gojo leaned forward and to your ear, one hand leaving your hip and moving to your abdomen to feel the nudge of his cock every time he thrust in.

The feeling makes him smile, “Ohh, m’really deep in there aren’t I?” Gojo teases, tipping away from your ear to get a look at your face. Your eyes were closed and you were simply taking him as best you could, to which he scoffs and hums out your name, “Open your eyes ‘nd look at me while I fuck you,”

The sudden command makes your eyes flutter open and his face is so close. Your vision takes a second to focus on his face as Gojo’s thrusts grow harder, cockhead beating into you on purpose to make things difficult.

“S-Satoru,” You let out a breathy whine of his name, the sound making him smile before he praises you.

“Mhm, that’s my girl,” Gojo murmurs, “Jus’ keep those eyes on me, okay?”

Your brows twist up in a pleasurable way and you pant, “Hahh… ‘Toru… t-too fast,” You mumble out.

“Hm?” He hums, tilting his head innocently, “I’m going too fast?”

Your head nods desperately, “Uhuh, s-slow down… fuuck, please?”

Gojo snickers and his pace doesn’t waver, if anything, it grows harsher, more needy, and almost even feral. His thoughts were waning. How could he possibly slow down? “Jus’ take it,” He says playfully, putting on a pout to mock your expression.

Despite the sexy moans leaving you, a scowl takes over your face as you maintain eye contact with him. “I s-shouldn’t even-, mmgh… b-be here,” You mumble out to him.

The feeling of Gojo’s hand sliding down makes you tense up and your cunt clamps around his throbbing cock at the faint movement of his. He lets out a hiss and his face twists up, “Fuck-, d-don’t squeeze me like that, c’mon,” He huffs out.

You’re frowning, “…S’Your fault,” You moan out, “M-Making feel like-, hhngh-, t-this, ahh…”

Gojo scoffs and then rolls his eyes, hips easing back and dick nearly slipping out of you, “You talk so much y’know,” He points out.

“You’re one t-to talk,” You reply, your eyes going wide as he shoves every inch of himself back in with no warning.

That hand of his that was on your abdomen slides further down and you feel your legs tremble a bit as his fingertips find your clit and messily swat over the bud in sync with his thrusts.

Your fingers curled against the wall, the need to grab something stronger than ever. His cock was practically making out with your cervix, hips bucking into you at such a rough pace that had you gasping for air.

“Y’know,” Gojo chuckles, lengthy fingers rolling circles around your clit, “We’re supposed to be fucking, not arguing.” He comments.

You groan and nearly fall over against the wall as both his cock and fingers become too much for you, “S-Satoru-, fuck-,” You gasp.

“Huh? Did ya’ wanna say somethin’?” Gojo taunts as he purposefully drags his fingertips around your sensitive bud in such a teasingly pleasurable way.

Just as he works on his hand movements, his dick is simply drilling into your sopping hole, your slick making an entire mess of both him and yourself. You were leaking all over his cock and you could even feel your inner thighs wet up as his thrusts grew more pinpointed and calculated.

At one point, Gojo shifts ever so slightly and his tip fucks somewhere overwhelmingly good inside you, “O-Oh-,” Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, “T-Too deep, fuuck, s’too deep ‘Toru,” You whined.

Gojo grunts but doesn’t stop his thrusts, “What do you mean I’m too deep?” He asks, loud and lewd squelches of your pussy filling the air and making him snicker, “Didn’t you say that last time?”

Halfway out of it, “Uhuh,” You nodded.

“Exactly so,” Gojo leans to your ear again and his fingers pinch your clit, “You can take it.”

Another groan pours out of your mouth and you had drool running down your jaw and dripping off your chin. His voice was so low and it drove you crazy, the sounds of his grunts and groans flowing into your ear.

“Messy girl,” Gojo suddenly commented, his eyes downward as he feels and sees the way you suddenly came around his cock, “Didn’t even tell me you were cumming, sweets,” He taunts, smirking, “Do I make you feel that good?”

Yet again, you’re just nodding along to his words with this fucked out expression on your face, “Uhuh, f-feels s’good ‘Toru,” You whined, “B-But… m-mmgh, y-you couldn’t take me-, nngh, t-to your room?”

Gojo scoffs and his thrusts slow down a little just so he could talk into your ear once more, “No, no I couldn’t… fuck-, take… hah, take you to my room,” He stammers out, feeling as you squeeze and squeeze around him every time he spoke. “You’re actin’ like you didn’t wanna get fucked against the wall anyway,” He points out in almost one breath, lips pushing against your ear, “You’re jus’ as needy as me, sweets.”

“Mmmh, hnngh… ah,” You moaned helplessly, “M’not… n-needy,” Your words came out in such a desperate and whiny way but you were too into it to care anymore. “You’re j-just….” Your words come out in a low murmur and he misses what you say.

Gojo tilts his head and his thrusts slow to a sudden stop, his cock resting comfortably inside your warmth, “Hahh, what?” He asks. You whine a little and murmur it out once more but he seems to get a bit annoyed, “C’mon, speak up ‘nd stop mumblin’.”

“Too fuckin’ deep Satoru-,” You finally manage out a bit louder, “C-Can feel you all t-the way… in,” You babble thoughtlessly.

“Yeahh, I know, I know m’deep sweetheart,” Gojo coos before gently easing his hips back, “But you like me that way,” He says with a slight scoff before he’s ramming his dick into you again, quite literally fucking the air out your lungs whilst he picks back up on that animalistic pace of his.

Gojo could care less how much you complain, he knows how far inside you he is, he can feel it. The way your pussy sucks him all the way in, the base of his cock flush with your cunt after each thrust— Gojo knows he’s filling you up but how is he expected to care when you just suck and squeeze him in so nicely?

Your cunt was too snug, too tight, too sloppy for him to care about your little whines and pleas. You’ve got his cock smothered in cum and you expect him to cater to your cries of slowing down or not pushing all the way in? 

Gojo can’t help but scoff and suddenly blurt out an intrusive thought of his, “Wonder’ what Choso would think if he saw you like this— cummin’ all over my cock instead of his,” He hums almost casually.

The way your plush walls grip onto him nearly leads him to empty his balls into you as it chokes a groan out of the back of his throat. 

“S-Shiit, almost made m-me cum, sweets,” Gojo chuckles lightly as his eyes flicker.

You shake your head in a disapproving manner, “D-Don’t fuckin’… bring him up,” You breathe out.

Gojo tilts his head, “Hm? Why not?” He questions as his cock jerks in and in and in, blue eyes locked on your facial expression as he smirks at the way your eyes roll back and back and back with his movements.

Your jaw is simply slack and you pant, “Ha-ahh… nngh, mmh… J-Just-, hhngh, s-stop talking-,” You mewl out, eyes watering at his movements.

Gojo slips his length almost out before teasing your hole with his tip, glancing down at his actions and chuckling at the constant twitch of your cunt, “Your pussy’s tellin’ me to keep talkin’ though…”

You groan, “Shut up.”

“Oh please, you’ll be alright…” Gojo argues back to you before easing his cock in slower this time. You can just feel his every throbbing vein as he inches in and moves to your ear just to whisper, “S’not like he’ll know.”

Your hips begin to move back to meet his motions and Gojo’s taken by surprise. He knew he didn’t need to be concerned with your earlier cries, Gojo knows you know how to take dick.

So, the two of you get quiet for a minute as things slow. His thrusts are shallower, almost like he just wants to marinate in your cunt for a while, feel you twitch as his dick throbs inside you. His breath is against your ear all over again and he soon wraps both his arms around you.

Then, once you’re in his grasp, his pace is slow to speed up again. But this time you’re not whining through it. Instead, breathy and quiet moans spill from your wet lips, and all you could focus on was the sinful sounds of sex filling the entirety of the apartment.

After which, it was Gojo’s voice yet again you’re focusing on, “…Maybe you should jus’ stay with me,” He offers.

“H-Huh?” You hum cluelessly.

His dripping tip presses into your sweet spot once more, “You heard me.”

You let off a whine and your face scrunches up a little, “Y-You wanna talk about this-, nngh, now?”

“Yeah,” Gojo chuckles, his voice low in a whisper, “Yeah I wanna talk about this when I’m balls deep inside you. When else should I say somethin’?”

You scoff at his way of wording things and your cunt is just milking his cock at this point, “W-What about… mmh, C-Choso-“

“You can see him tomorrow,” Gojo groans, “Let me have you for the rest of today, sweets.”

A slight chuckle escapes you, “T-The rest of today?”

His thrusts have groan tender, slow but hard strokes given to your pussy as the conversation continues, “Yeah. I wanna fuck you all night,” He explains.

“Mmmgh,” You hum at the thought, “‘Toru…”

“Feel’ you milk my cock for hours,” Gojo whispers into your ear, voice sensual and seductive with you despite him being buried so many inches inside you.

Your eyes just barely meet his and you see how serious he is, “B-But-,”

“How many positions do you think I can put you in before the night is over?” He cuts off, face inching closer to yours as his movements come to a stop and he has you keeping his cock warm yet again, “Hm?”

You manage to catch your breath due to the slight break he’s giving you, “Hah… I-I dunno,”

Gojo tips his head to the side and his lips near yours, “Maybe I’ll fuck you in every inch of this apartment so when you’re gone I’ll have that memory…”

Oh he’s just rambling at this point but you’re not complaining. If anything, your cunt squeezes around his shaft for the nth time since he’s been inside you.

“Shit, y’like that?” Gojo chuckles, “We’ll start with the living room after this-, fuuck…” He groans, feeling the way you get tighter and tighter with his every word, “I’ll have the couch soaked by the time I’m done with you…” He explains.

Your brows furrow, “That’s gonna… mgh, be so messy…”

“Who cares if it’s messy?” Gojo scoffs, rolling his hips into you in slow motion just to get some kind of movement again.

Your eyes roll back yet again and he watches closely, smiling at the effect his cock has on you.

“Uhuh,” Gojo nods, his eyes practically having hearts in them with how enamored he was by you, “Then the kitchen-, I gotta bend you over the counter and feel you drip all over my fuckin’ cock,” He explains.

Damn the way you begin to experience another orgasm at such a perfect time, the feeling making Gojo’s smile deepen.

“Yeah? You really like the sound of that huh?” He teases, biting his lip afterward. “What else? Hm? Maybe I can fuck your throat in the shower,” His suggestion makes your face twist up and you shake your head with a cute little whine leaving you.

“Why?” You ask, the question completely thoughtless as you’re too focused on his member shallowly easing in and out of you just barely.

“Why?” Gojo mocks you, “Why not?”

“M-Mmgh…” You grumble out, your mind growing hazy as the tantalizing roll of Gojo’s hips into you distracts your thoughts.

Then his voice just follows again, “Oh and I definitely want you ridin’ me in Suguru’s room. Gotta get payback for that one time.” He tells you, cock twitching inside your cunt at the thought.

“T-That’s so… hahh… m-mean, ‘Toru,” Your voice comes out in a mumble he finds cute.

Scoffing, “He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Gojo shrugs off. Then his pace is picking up again, from shallow and slow strokes to a regular speed, his abs tensing as his orgasm approaches.

You sigh and begin to play along with his little fantasy, “Okay… w-well what about-, mmh, your room?”

“In my room?” Gojo repeats, his hips snapping into you suddenly. The fact that you’re considering what he was saying made him lose his mind a little, “Oh I’m not fuckin’ you in there.”

You frown and a single tear falls from your eye as he starts rutting into you again, slight whimpers heard exiting your throat.

“Heh, you look disappointed,” Gojo teases, “Don’t worry, in my room we’re takin’ things slow,” He tells you, voice low in a whisper again, “I’m putting you on my mouth for a while.”

You’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing his tongue so you’re left wondering what that’d be like, how messy of an eater Gojo probably is, how he’d do nothing but talk and talk and talk-

“Yeah, ‘n then my fingers,” Gojo cuts off your thought process, “I know how much you love ‘em,” He points out.

You release a fucked-out little laugh, “Mhm, and after?”

“After that?” Gojo sighs, leaning back and parting his legs a bit more before sliding his hands to hold your hips as he fucks his lengthy cock into you, “Hm…. I’ll make love to you,” He says.

Your jaw drops and you moan so beautifully, his eyes all over your face against the wall as he loses that slow pace of his and returns to the rough one.

“I’m gonna treat you carefully so you don't break,” Gojo explains, despite the current and constant shove of his cock into your sopping pussy— you were making such a mess.

“H-Hnngh, hahh, ah… W-What about-, nngh… now?” You cry out in question.

He tilts his head, white hairs sticking to his forehead as sweat slicks along his body, “Oh, what about now? Nah, right now I’m in the mood of splitting you open— you look hot in tears,” Gojo chuckles, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

He was seconds away from spilling into you but he somehow managed to hold himself back long enough.

“Plus, the shake in your legs feeds my ego,” He snickers, cockhead drilling into your filthy cunt so perfectly.

So much so that you’re blurting things out without thinking as he hits that one spot over and over, “Fuuuck, right there… mmmmgh-, I love your cock-, ohmygod…” You whine out mindlessly.

His hips stutter and Gojo chokes out a groan, “F-Fuck-, what?”

You shake your head and move a hand to your mouth, refusing to repeat that.

His brows tense and his pace is ruthless with you, senselessly pounding you into the wall as he leans closer, “Move your hand,” Gojo orders, his voice lower than before. 

Your hand drops and you moan as he questions you further, “What the fuck did you just say?” He pants, “You love my what?”

The last thing you wanted to do was say that again. It was unlike you but, you were far too out of it to care, “Y-Your cock, mmh,”  You hum out softly.

“Yeah?” Gojo whines and it goes straight to your cunt. He almost came inside you, “You love my cock?” He repeats, to which you nod, “Fuckin’ sluuut. Of course you love my cock, I already knew that.”

That ego of his makes you send him a scowl, even with the constant moans leaving you and the harsh slap of his pelvis to your ass.

“I mean, you’ve been makin’ a mess on my floor ever since I hit right…” Gojo shifts ever so slightly and urges his dick in somewhere specific, “There, so… I already knew that, sweets.”

You’ve lost count of how many times you came on him or how many times your jaw has gone slack but both happen again— face twisting up, eyes rolling back, and drool dripping off your chin.

“You’re so cute when you’re all fucked out,” Gojo says, smiling at you. Another moan is heard as you make eye contact with him and he decides to tease you, “Look, I bet you can’t even say my name properly.”

Scowling, “Fuck you,” You breathe out, to which he keeps knocking into that mushy spot inside you, “‘T-Toru,” You moan his nickname and it makes his smile widen.

“Aww, c’mon, say the whole thing,” Gojo teases, “Sa-tor-u,” He emphasizes each syllable with a thrust and you think you’re about to fall over completely, “C’mon, you can do it.”

“S’toru,” You slur out, tears dripping from your eyes.

Gojo pouts, “Mmmh, close but not quite, try again.”

“H-Hahhh, Satoru, f-fu-uck…” You finally manage out.

His smile is so sexy while he continues, “Shit… you’re so hot-, fuckin’ perfect,” Gojo groans before tossing his head back.

Again and again and again he buries his inches inside of you. How long has it been? How is he even still going? You don’t know, nor do you have the mental capacity to think about that right now.

Your own slick is dripping down your legs and you wouldn’t even be standing up straight without his hands gripping onto your hips tight enough to leave marks, “F-Feels… nngh-, s’good, aangh,” You moan within your cockdrunk stupor.

“Yeahhhh?” Gojo chuckles, “Who’s makin’ you feel good, huh?” He asks, head tipping down into place to watch you answer him.

“Y-You, Satoru… mmh,” You hum, eyes on the verge of closing.

There’s a constant drip onto the floor below as Gojo bottoms you out, finding himself fucked out in the same manner as you. “Uhuhh, fuuuuck. I love the way you moan my name,” He breathes out before leaning in toward you, “Kiss me.” He orders.

Just barely do you angle your head back and he inches closer, cock beating into you and scrambling your insides so heavily as he messily presses his lips to yours.

A sloppy kiss is shared between the two of you and his thrusts begin to match that as he approaches his high. Gojo’s tongue is slithering into your mouth and he’s inhaling your moans and whines in such an eager way.

“Mhm, atta’ girl,” Gojo whispers just as his lips pry away from yours. Then you watch tears gloss over his eyes as he whines-, almost whimpers, “F-Fuck, m’about to cum…”

There’s a filthy string of saliva hanging from his lips that connects to yours and both of you are gazing into each other's eyes— watching how fucked out both of you are. 

After a minute, Gojo’s whispering, “Can I-“

You just nod and whisper back before he even finishes, “Cum inside me, ‘Toru.”

And hell, he’s fucking his orgasm into you just as the words leave your lips. Gojo’s quietly whimpering against your lips as he does, his face flushed, pupils blown out, and pants pouring from his mouth as he does so.

Both of you were hot and sweaty and it’s not until he’s done that his hips stop moving and he groans in a pornographic manner.

You think your voice is gone and you can hardly imagine doing anything more than what just occurred. Any longer like that and you might’ve squirted-

“I love you,” Gojo suddenly breathes out, dick still inside you. Then he leans in and kisses you softly before saying it again, “I love you so much.”

You meet his hazy blue eyes, your pupils unknowingly dilated as you whisper to him, “Mhm, I love you too, ‘Toru.”

He choked and his brows furrowed, “W-What?”

Not even giving him a second to process, you mindlessly kiss him again but notice he’s frozen. A soft lick to his lips is felt and he blinks a few times.

“Y-You what?” Gojo questions.

Again, you shut him up with a kiss but inside his mouth, you’re mumbling, “I love you.”

His hands slip up to your waist and the two of you are messily making out. Gojo’s fingers curl into your skin and he’s not letting you go now-, not ever.

Fuck leaving him tomorrow. Fuck the consequences that’ll come from this. Gojo Satoru won’t let you go after saying those three words to him.

Hence why he’s devouring your lips all over again before his cock slips out of you. Then, in one haste movement, he’s turning you around to face him, lifting you up, and moving to make out with you in a needy manner.

“Yeahh,” Gojo breathes into your mouth, “M’never letting you go.”

“S-Satoru,” You stammer out, “I-“

“Shut up,” Gojo cuts off, “Fuck Choso. Fuck whatever you feel for him,” He blurts out. Oh he’s lost it, “You’re staying here-, staying with me. Fuck anything and everything else-, fuck Sukuna…” The last part mumbled under his breath but you don’t miss it.

“W-What?” You whine, brows furrowing.

Gojo shakes his head and starts carrying you off and toward the living room, “Don’t worry about it, sweets,” He says. His tone is starting to worry you a little but your mind isn’t yet all the way there, “It’s just you and me now… and forever, okay?”

You blink.

What the hell did you just do? Maybe...

Maybe you should've just left instead of giving in to temptation.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[dreorig]

Oh wow, you just happen to be taller and broader than your mercenary boyfriend!

[ deadpool x dom male reader | nsfw under the cut | had this sitting in my drafts for a while now so uhhh forgive any mistakes :P ]

First things first. He thinks that's so hot of you.

He brags about you to everyone. Everyone. Random people, someone's he's fighting with, a friend; they all will hear about how handsome and tall Wade's boyfriend is.

Wade gets heart eyes when you both are in public and you hold his waist or hug him from behind. A subtle possessive squeeze on him will also do the job.

Wade will steal your clothes. He is 6'2, do you seriously think he'd ever have another chance to feel smaller in someone else's clothes anytime soon? Yeah, he's not losing this chance.

How many times can he ask to arm wrestle with you until you threaten to cut his vocal chords?

"So we can't get to decide what we're getting for dinner and we both want different things..." "Wade—" "There's only one way to solve this situation..." "Wade. No." "ARM WRESTLING!" "NO."

You will give him piggy backs and carry him around in bridal style either you like it or not. It's a demand.

He jumps at you randomly. First time he did that he jumped from behind, but you didn't know that was him, so your instincts made you grab that apparently stranger and throw him across the room, making him hit a wall. Wade fell even more for you right then and there.

Wade was mesmerised. You desperate; so you ran towards him, already chanting an infinite amount of sorry's. "Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to—" your apology was interrupted by the sound of Wade's laugh, which took you aback a little. Wade jumped to his feet and into your arms, this time you caught him properly. He wrapped his legs around your waist and arms around your neck, his chest still trembling with laughter. "Do you know how unbelievably hot that was? Never stop manhandling me."

Wade can reach the top shelves just fine but will ask you to grab the things instead. He just wants to enjoy his tall dog privilege.

He will always go to the gym with you if he's not busy re-killing former US presidents, slaughtering some asshole or pestering Logan. Hell, Wade loves to see your muscles flexing and your sweaty self after a good workout.

Asking you to pick him up (like this) became a part of your workout routine. He giggles and melts in your hold because he loves the fact that you pick him off the ground so effortlessly, like he's a piece of paper.

Fuck him doggy style and slap his ass with your big hands and you'll hear the loudest moan ever.

So loud you'll probably need to slip a few fingers inside his mouth to keep him shut. You don't need any neighbours hearing what's yours only.

You know what they say about big hands, eh? Wade knows it better than anyone and God, he loves the way you stretch him. Naturally he's got a high pain tolerance, so you being big and making him see things without having to use a toy is just perfect.

Doesn't mean you never use toys, tho. Fuck Wade's face and make him gag on your big cock while he has a dildo deep inside him, he'll give you the biggest puppy eyes ever as he humps on your leg.

You reminding him of your size difference never fails to make him wet. Never fucking fails. Tell him he should stand in front of you to get a better view since you're taller and he won't hide the fact that his underwear is already stained with pre-cum.

No marks such as love bites will stay on Wade's body due to his healing factor, much to his and your dislike, but eventually you found a way to claim him as yours — he's got to wear one of your shirts while you so relentlessly fuck him and even after you're done. Your scent and sweat that lingers on the fabric make Wade's head spin, often leading him to beg for you to fuck him once again.

Plus wearing your clothes just feels right. The way they're always oversized on him serves to remind him of how much bigger you are. He's got a size kink, he can't help it.

"Aren't you my little bitch?" you increased your pace. "Fuck, yes, yes," he pushed his hips down, meeting your thrusts. "Did I fuck you dumb? Use your damn words," you growled in his ear. Wade's cock throbbed at that. He was indeed beginning to think you fucked him dumb, yet he replied, "Arghh— yes, shit, yes, I'm your little bitch~" "Yeah, that's right. Let me show you how a real man treats a little bitch like you," you slapped his ass so hard even your own hand burned a little. Wade came right away without even having to touch his cock this time. How many times was it now? Not that he cared, he just wanted more, more, more. You chuckled, pleased with your own work. "Look at what a slap can do to a little bitch in heat." Wade wasn't sure of what you really said, but his ears caught "little bitch in heat" and he smiled dumb, more than happy to know he was your little bitch in heat.