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seraphdreams · 7 months ago

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GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

4K notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 6 months ago

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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.

they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.

☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young

maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.

PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..

[ NINE]

A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.

The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”

You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”

“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”

You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite.

You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.

You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.

You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.

Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.

You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.

Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.

“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”

You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…”

Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.

“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.

Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.

“What’re you reading?”

His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again.

“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”

“Am I in trouble?”

He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”

Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better.

“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return.

Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.

Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.

After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.

Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal.

“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”

You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.

“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’

“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”

He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.

After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.

You find this to be very strange for several reasons.

For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.

So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little.

“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.

“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.

“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you.

“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”

You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.

“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”

[ TEN ]

There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka.

Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.

He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.

But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.

(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.

It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)

You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.

You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.

Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.

Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell.

(Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)

When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.

Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.

“Hi,”

The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet.

“Hi,” He says back.

You smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Bachira,”

He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.

“How old are you?”

“I’m ten,”

“Really? Me too,”

“Do you know how to play soccer?”

You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”

He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”

“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”

“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”

You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”

You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.

“Oh,”

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”

He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”

You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”

You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.

“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”

“Sure,” You tell him.

As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.

“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?”

He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”

Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.

“Not really. I’m just normal.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.

You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.

Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.

On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.

When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.

It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.

They don’t scold you again after you say it.

(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.

Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.

On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.

It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. )

“So, you’re an omega?”

Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.

You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”

He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.

He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.

“Does that mean you like alphas?”

The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.

You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.

“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”

“But do you?”

You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.

“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”

“Then what about omegas?”

That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”

“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”

A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”

“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.

“Yeah. Right.”

[ ELEVEN ]

Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.

In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.

You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.

You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher.

You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.

Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.

Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.

Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy.

You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?

You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.

You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.

[ TWELVE ]

You return to the classroom early after health examinations.

It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.

You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.

After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.

The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.

You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.

You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.

It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.

Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.

You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.

Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.

You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.

You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.

There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.

Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.

She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.

“Guess what!”

“Did you find out your secondary sex?”

She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”

“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”

She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?”

You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.

You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.

You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.

It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.

“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”

You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.

You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.

“Does that bother you?”

Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.

Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”

You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.

You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”

You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again.

“Yeah. Right.”

[ THIRTEEN ]

You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.

A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.

Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.

It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.

You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most.

Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.

You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.

You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.

You just need to keep it together until the train stops.

There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.

“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.

You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.

Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.

“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.

our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.

“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?”

You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.

Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up.

Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.

You’ve never seen him so angry.

You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears.

“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”

He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”

It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.

When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.

He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.

“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.

He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.

Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.

“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”

“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.

“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.”

***

The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail.

But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.

You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.

The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.

You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.

You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.

You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.

But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.

[ FOURTEEN ]

Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.

There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.

Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.

You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.

You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.

“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”

“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.

You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.

“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”

“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.

You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.

“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant.

“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”

He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.

“Buy something with it later.”

He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”

You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.

“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”

“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”

You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.

“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”

“New shoes, maybe.”

You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”

“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.

You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.

“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.

He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”

“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”

Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”

You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.

“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.

“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”

You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.

“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”

You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”

“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”

Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”

“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”

“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.

Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.

“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”

“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”

Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”

You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”

“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically.

“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.

You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”

“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,”

You shake your head, displeased.

Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.

“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.

He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”

You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.

Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”

She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”

You blink.

“Sorry?”

“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.

“What a good question,”

You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”

“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”

“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.

“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.

“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”

“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”

You pause.

You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.

You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”

“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“

Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.

There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.

Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference.

“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,”

Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.

“Didja miss me?”

A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.

“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.

“Rude!”

Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.

[ FIFTEEN ]

“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”

Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.

He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.

His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.

But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.

“You’re home late,”

“I had student council,”

He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.

“You’re in student council? Since when?”

You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”

“Then are you in other clubs?”

“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…”

You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”

“You heard all of that?”

You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”

“It didn’t scare you?”

“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”

His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”

“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.

He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?”

He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Got any plans?”

“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”

He makes a face at you. “That brat,”

“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”

“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”

“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.

“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”

“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”

“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”

“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”

Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.

You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.

You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason.

You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”

“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”

You shrug indifferently.

Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.

A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.

Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.

Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.

So after summer break, the two of you started dating.

It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.

Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.

It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.

Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be.

“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”

“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.

“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”

“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”

There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.

Sometimes.

You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”

He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”

“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”

“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.

“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”

There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.

“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”

You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.

“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.

“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”

He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.

[ SIXTEEN ]

On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.

You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.

When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.

The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.

The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.

He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.

The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.

The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.

The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.

He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.

This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.

It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.

He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.

You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.

Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.

He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.

His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?

You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”

Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.

What an incredible view.

(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.

Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.

A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.

After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.

You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.

You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.

“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.

“I know you are,”

His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”

He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” )

[ SEVENTEEN ]

“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”

You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”

“Are you on the street in front of my house?”

“Huh? Yeah, I am.”

The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears.

You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.

“You ran here,”

“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”

“News? What about?”

His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”

The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.

You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.

And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.

It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.

Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.

It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.

Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way.

Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.

This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.

Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.

Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.

But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.

At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.

“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”

“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”

You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”

Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.

“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”

You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”

Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”

You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”

“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”

You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”

“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”

You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”

Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.

He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.

It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.

“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!”

You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.

You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.

You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.

You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”

You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.

You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”

“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”

“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”

You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.

You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.

“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.

You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.

Are you some sort of masochist?

“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”

Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.

Hours pass.

You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.

You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.

You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.

He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.

You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.

“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.

“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”

“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”

“Sorry.”

He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”

“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Really?”

You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”

You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.

“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”

Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.

“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”

Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.

Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.

You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.

You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.

Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.

You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.

You don’t talk about it.

When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.

The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.

Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.

The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.

It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.

You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.

When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.

You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.

You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.

In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.

Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever.

The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.

The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.

It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.

He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.

You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.

He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.

You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.

And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.

So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied. She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.

You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.

You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you.

Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”

“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because—“

You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.

You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.

Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”

“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.

“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”

“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”

“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”

The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”

You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.

“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.

“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”

“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it.

“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.

“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”

“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”

“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”

You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line.

‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.

For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.

Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.

Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.

Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.

The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.

Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.

You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words.

You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation.

“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.

Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”

Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”

Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”

You blink.

“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?”

Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”

You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”

“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”

You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”

Isagi smiles. “Sure.”

You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.

You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.

Bachira is still Bachira.

But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.

What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?

You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.

You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?

Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.

It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.

You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.

What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you.

Was he never going to tell you?

Did he never trust you enough to tell you?

That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe.

The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?

“Meguru,”

You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.

“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”

You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”

“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”

“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”

“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”

You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.

But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.

You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.

“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”

“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.

“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,”

Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.

You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.

“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?”

Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply.

[ EIGHTEEN ]

On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.

Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.

“Ah. Hello?”

“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”

You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”

“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”

“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”

“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”

You flush. “…I did.”

She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”

“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”

“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”

#bachira x reader #bluelock x reader #bachira smut #bluelock smut #writing tag #fics for gaza #bllk x reader #bachira meguru x reader #omegaverse cw

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bluewolfangel01 · 2 months ago

Text

Mc tends to accidently falls asleep around the HoL after an exhausting day, like on the couch in the living room or library. Now the question is what do the brothers do if they stumble upon said sleeping Mc?

Lucifer

He'll pick up and carry Mc somewhere else, away from any interruptions that the other brothers might (will definitely) bring

His room is the most ideal place for that since his brothers don't enter his room

He'll lay Mc down on his bed and admire them and their peaceful face for a minute or two

Depending on how much work he has to do, he'll either stay and cuddle or he'll sadly have to leave to return to his work

Mammon

He'll also pick up Mc and take them to his room

Difference is he'll stay and cuddle with them, with him being the big spoon most of the time

His human deserves only the best and most relaxing sleep of all, which of course means that he has to cuddle with them to protect them from nightmares or in case his brothers trying to pester them

Theres no other solution

Levithan

Sadly he won't pick up Mc and take them to his room

Instead he'll go get one of his extra cozy merch blankets to drape onto Mc so that they don't get cold

He might even get one of his pillows to place under Mc's head too

He might feel like he's not able to do much or anything for Mc sometimes, nevertheless he'll try to help Mc have a decent nap as best he can

Satan

First, he's going to make sure he has a book, if he doesn't, he goes to get one then comes back

After that, he'll carefully move Mc so he can lay down on the couch too and then lays them on top of him

He likes feeling Mc softly breathing against him while he reads

Sometimes he'll move them to his room if he doesn't feel social enough that day but still wants quality Mc cuddle time

Asmodeus

Pictures, he's going to take just a few all the pictures of Mc's cute sleeping face

Maybe experiment with some nail design ideas that he has (Mc knows he does this and allows it)

If Mc is still sleeping, he might sit on the couch, move their head to lay on his lap, and brush their hair

It's rare that he naps with, but if he does, he lays on top of Mc and hugs them like a giant teddy bear

Beelzebub

He'd lay down and put Mc on top of him

However, he wouldn't be able to do so for long since he'll start to get hungry quick and will have to get up again

The solution? Carry around Mc in his arms or on his back, similar to what he does with Belphie

He'll even put his jacket on Mc so they don't get cold

If he comes across Belphie while carrying Mc, it's Attic Sandwhich cuddle time

Belphegor

Immediately will lay on top of Mc

Will hug his cow print pillow in one arm and has his other arm wrapped around Mc

Doesn't bother with bringing a blanket, he makes a great heat source all on his own

If Mc is having a dream, he's going to make sure they dont have any bad ones

He knows Mc is exhausted and wants to make sure they get as much rest as they need to feel better again

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zorosangell · 12 days ago

Text

⛥ﾟ・。 jug

synopsis: after going out to search for luffy, you and zoro stumble upon a bottle of pink sake. zoro drinks it without question, but lives to regret it, as you have to deal with the consequences... physically

cw: nsfw (nothing too crazy), fluff, angst if you really squint, aphrodisiacs, reader is down bad for zoro, and vice versa, whiny-ish zoro (he's in pain give him a break)

a/n: thought of the song heart of a woman while writing this

"Luffyyy!" you called, hands raised to the sides of your mouth as you glanced around. "Luffyyy! Where are you?!"

The swordsman bristled, pinching the bridge of his nose with an annoyed look.

"C'mon, Luffy, it's freezing out here! Hurry up!" he groaned, breath disappearing into the cool air.

Of all the nights your captain chose to disappear, it had to be the coldest of the week...

"For all we know, he can't even hear us," you sighed, tucking your hands in your pockets. "We might have more luck tomorrow... y'know, when it's not twenty below freezing."

"We already came all this way, we might as well bring him back," he grumbled, sharply, pressing forward with a taut look. "Christ, why is it so fuckin' cold..."

His tone came as barely a shock, your eyes unable to stave off their eyes roll.

'Someone's cranky...'

The crew hat been docked on a fall island for a little under a week, waiting for the log pose to set, but it was clear that the crew was already starting to go a little stir crazy.

Some more than others...

But, after a day of exploring and forest shenanigans, Luffy had yet to come back, and both you and Zoro were sent as his search party—the swordsman having been woken up from his pre-night watch nap.

Which would explain why he was acting so grouchy.

Or... grouchier than usual.

"C'mon, Zoro, we've been searching for an hour... How about we give it a rest?" you suggested, sincerely. "From what I can tell, this place is inhabited by nothing but deer, rabbits, and squirrels. I'm sure Luffy can survive the night."

The swordsman kept his gaze forward, not slowing down at all.

"It's dark, and this island is full of frozen lakes," he stated, matter-of-factly. "If that idiot manages to find some way to fall into one, he's done for."

Slightly, you deflated, looking off to the side.

You hadn't thought of that...

Cheeks puffed, you hugged your arms a little closer to your body, attempting to close out the chill of embarrassment.

You knew Zoro didn't mean anything by it—seeing as he talked like that to everyone—but you couldn't help but suddenly feel annoying, your excuses probably the last thing he wanted to hear after being dragged out of bed.

'Dammit, (y/n)... always whining about something...'

This was an insecurity that plagued you constantly.

When you first joined the Strawhats, it was blindingly clear that you were nowhere near the strongest of the bunch.

You weren't fast like Brook.

Or powerful like Luffy

Or even smart like Robin.

You were just... (y/n).

Average, human (y/n).

The only thing particularly unique about you was your skill with a needle and thread.

You were the ship's seamstress, and the clothes you created for the crew were all exquisitely crafted and perfectly tailored to their needs.

It didn't matter how much thread you had, how much fabric you were given, or even how bad the damage was.

You could easily turn it into something both stylish and practical, your craftsmanship that of a seasoned pro, someone who had been honing their trade for decades upon decades.

But you were only twenty.

And while the rest of the crew saw this incredible talent, and often sang your praises for it, you couldn't help but feel useless.

How the hell was sewing supposed to help you win a fight?

You couldn't feather stitch an enemy into submission.

Day in and day out, you trained, hoping to build your strength enough to run with the big dogs.

Even during the crew's two year break, you hadn't laid a finger on your sewing machine, focusing solely on your fighting prowess.

But when you came back, utterly elated by your newfound brawn, you were quick to realize that the monsters had gotten stronger, too.

And you were right back where you started.

"SHI—!"

Your little, mental pity party was interrupted as you tripped over a tree root, feet stuck and body flying forward toward the ground.

Luckily, a pair of strong arms caught you with a death grip, forcing a gasp out your lips as your hands shot up to cling to his broad shoulders, your face smashing into his muscular chest.

'I think I'll go die now...'

Deathly embarrassed, you quickly pulled your head up, stomach lurching and heart stuttering as you caught sight of his face.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, meekly, eyes slightly wide and completely entranced.

He had a hardened face, with dark eyes and a dark aura—not at all like the men that typically hit on you (not that you thought he was hitting on you now)—and surprisingly soft looking lips.

It was common knowledge that Zoro was anything but ugly, but just seeing his features up close...

He was such a pretty man.

"You good?" Zoro asked, raising a brow.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, allowing him to stand you back upright, and allowing yourself the chance to reign yourself back in.

Your "little" crush on the swordsman was something that plagued you from the moment you joined the crew... and if we're being honest, who could blame you?

Not only was he incredibly attractive, but he had morals; honor; and most importantly, chivalry.

Which, in your private opinion, far surpassed Sanji's.

But, it was beyond obvious that the man was completely out of your league, and you preferred keeping your feelings bottled up and saving yourself the embarrassment rather than getting rejected by a crewmate.

You'd seen the caliber of women that had come onto him in the past.

Powerful, female enemies...

High ranking Navy officials...

A fucking princess...

How could you hold a candle to that?

Though, little did you know, he thought the exact opposite.

While Zoro was a man who prided himself of self-restraint and respect, he couldn't help but let his eyes rake over you as your arms came up to cross over your chest.

Smooth, tanned skin accentuated under the complementary white of your cropped parka, your jeans just loose enough to run, and just tight enough to make your ass look fantastic.

Your lipgloss made your plump lips look so soft and inviting, and your eyes were so warm he felt like they heated him from the inside out.

And don't get him started on your sexy-ass voice—

"What did you trip over?" he quickly blurted out, glancing down at the ground to fight off the impure thoughts.

"It looks like a handle," you remarked, squatting down to take a closer look. "And I think there's a square outline in the ground."

Slowly, you looped your manicured fingers around the tree root, getting ready to pull.

"Careful..." Zoro warned, swords at the ready.

You nodded, and with a harsh tug, the door lifted, revealing a small compartment with a large jug inside.

Grabbing it by the neck, you pulled it out, dusting off its label to see what it was.

"It's sake... from over twenty years ago."

Instantly, a grin stretched across Zoro's face, the man gratefully taking the bottle as you handed it to him.

"Now we're talkin'," he smirked, popping the cork with his teeth and swiping the bits of dirt off the mouth. "Just what I needed."

"Are you sure you wanna drink that?" you asked, warily, as you stared at the bottle's contents. "I've never seen pink sake before..."

The man shrugged, his good eye taking a quick glance at it before he tossed back a large gulp, licking the remnants off his lips when he was finished.

"Eh, it's probably native to this island or somethin'," he waved off, turning around to continue the search. "It's strong... tastes like strawberries."

With a sigh, you stood to follow him, brows flattening as you watched him pound back another huge swig.

'I'll have Chopper check him out when we get back...'

It wasn't long after that you guys found Luffy.

He had been napping in a tree the whole time, and after you and Zoro gave him a serious scolding for worrying everyone, you dragged him back to the ship, you practically slumping against your door once you made it back into your work room.

Your day had been a whirlwind, to say the least, and your body wanted absolutely nothing more than to sprawl out on bed and catch some Zs.

But, even with the late, or rather, early hour—two to be exact—you didn't allow it.

First, you changed into some more comfortable clothes—some pajama shorts and a flimsy tank top—before straightening up the mess you had made in an attempt to make everyone new winter coats.

Once all that was done, you finally sat down at your desk, opening up your sketchbook and pulling out a pen to draw with.

'Alright, Nami said she wanted a new party dress...'

But before you could even draw the first line, someone frantically knocked on your door.

"For fuck's sake..." you sighed, throwing your head back in anguish.

You had half the mind to ignore it.

And, honestly, you did, returning to your book and pretending to be asleep.

But it wasn't long before the frantic rap turned into a distressed bang, completely disrupting your flow.

"Fine! I'm coming!" you caved, roughly pushing your chair back and storming toward the door.

If Kaido himself wasn't burning down the ship, heads were going to roll.

"Usopp, I swear to God, if this is some kind of jo—"

Swinging the door open, you never in a million years would have expected to see Roronoa Zoro on the other side.

Especially not looking like that.

"Shit," he panted, breathless, as he clutched his stomach, leaning against the door frame for support.

Of course it led him to you...

"Can I... mph! ...Can I come in?"

In front of you stood the first mate of Luffy's crew, his most trusted companion, his most loyal friend.

And the hands-down hottest man you had ever seen.

He was in nothing but some black sweats, his muscular arms and abs on perfect display.

His face was flushed, cheeks puffed with his hair tousled, and chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon.

Without thinking, you stepped to the side, allowing him in, now incredibly thankful that you'd tidied up beforehand.

Can't have the place looking like a pig sty...

Feeling something burning into the side of your head, you shut the door, turning around to see that he was staring at you intensely.

His eyes, once a beautiful steel gray, mimicking that of the swords he cherished so dearly, now resembled that of storm clouds, dark with something you couldn't place your finger on.

Yet something that worried you nonetheless.

"Are you okay?" you asked, raising a brow, not daring to touch him as he leaned against the wall, his legs having a slight tremble.

"No," he replied, his voice a half-whine, half-growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Something's... something's wrong... and... fuck! Everything hurts!"

"Hurts?" you parroted, now even more confused.

If he was in pain, why would he come to you?

You were just the seamstress, someone with little to no medical knowledge.

Why not go to Chopper?

Hell, why not go to Robin?

He let out another pained groan, sending a small, sharp pang to your heart.

'Questions are for later.'

Swiftly, you approached, only stopping when you were about a foot in front of him.

Leaning forward, your eyes scanned over his body, checking to see what you could deduce off looks alone.

"What hurts?"

Before he could answer, his eyes trailed down to your chest, the cut of your tank top and the angle you were leaning giving him a perfect view of your tits.

'Fuck me...'

Embarrassed, he avoided eye contact with you, his gaze flicking down to his crotch before zooming off to a far away window.

Still thoroughly confused, your eyes followed his path, only to find that he was hard, and it looked almost painfully so.

'Oh, shit...'

Your face burned, and you quickly snatched your eyes away from the sight.

"What happened?" you squeaked.

"I don't know," Zoro rasped, his entire body shuddering with arousal, heat pulsing through his body so intensely it hurt. "I woke up in my room an hour ago, and... well."

He gestured to his hard-on, the message clear.

"I tried to rub one off but... fuck... nothing worked. And then it got worse... and then—"

Red-faced, he glanced away from you, nostrils flaring.

Why couldn't shit like this happen to the damn cook?

"I...fuck...I smelled something...shit...something that just made it even worse, so I went to find it..." Zoro swallowed thickly, "and it lead me here."

Here?

HERE?

'HERE?!'

Why would, what was obviously some sort of lust sickness, lead him to you?

And why would your scent make it even worse?

Sure, you thought the man was stunningly handsome, and the mysterious, stone-cold air about him intrigued you to no end... but this was too much.

It had to be a dream.

Right?

Suddenly, Zoro crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily in short pants, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.

"Zoro!" you gasped, worried, rushing over to him.

"Look... I don't know how or why this... whatever it is...led me to you by your fuckin' scent or somethin'," he shuddered, the room somehow filled with your damn smell.

The shampoo you used.

The body wash.

The perfume.

Hell, the goddamn candles.

Everything just set something off inside of him—something that wanted to ravish you until you couldn't speak, trapped under his body helpless and needy.

Just like he was for you.

God, you were his fucking crewmate.

"Look, I wouldn't ask this of you, (y/n), if there was any other choice..." he rasped, your name on his tongue sending another shiver down your spine.

'Get a hold of yourself...'

"But you're the only one that caught this thing's attention. I don't think think this'll go away normalLY!"

His word extended as pain thrummed through his body, starting at his pelvis and sparking up his back.

God, it hurt so fucking bad.

But as the body cramp passed, he looked up at you with glassy eyes.

"(y/n), please. I'll...fuck! ...I'll fuckin' get you something nice at the next island..." he shuddered again. "Just help me..."

You stared at him for a long moment, struggling to process what was happening.

This had to be some sort of freaky dream.

You'd probably passed out from exhaustion at your desk, and were now face first in your sketchbook.

But looking down at him, so helpless, trembling like an injured deer, it felt oddly real.

...

'Nahhh...'

With a heavy sigh, you moved closer, until you stood over him, his breathing becoming rapid and uneven.

You smelled so fucking good.

He just wanted to have you, to keep you.

To devour you.

You knelt in front of him, tilting your head and lifting him just enough, giving him a warm nod of approval.

That was all he needed.

In an instant, Zoro surged forward, his impossibly soft lips capturing yours in a breath-stealing kiss, granting him a faint pang of relief.

If this was a dream, then it was the most vivid one you'd ever hand.

His lips felt so real, pressing a searing kiss into yours, all the pain and arousal he had been feeling clear as day.

Smoothly, his nimble hand curled around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're so soft... You smell so good," he muttered into your mouth, his hands wandering all over your body.

You took in a shuddering breath when Zoro pulled away, giving you a small chance to regain your senses as his lips traveled down your jaw and to your neck, his teeth scraping your sensitive skin.

You sighed, the feeling alien.

Sure, you weren't a prude—you'd frenched a guy or two from your village in your teen years—but never had you done something so... intense.

"Zoro!" you gasped as he suddenly shoved you to the floor, his pupils dilated beyond relief.

"I'm givin' you an out right now," he warned, leaning down so close to you, you could count his eyelashes. "One word... and I'll leave.

God, his eyes were so pretty.

You could stare into them for hours, getting lost in their cloudy grey.

'Wait... what did he say?'

Zoro pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ghosting across your lips, "Last chance."

He almost sounded nervous.

He wasn't at all experienced in the world of sex.

And, yes, he was a pirate who often cared little about the feelings of others.

But he wasn't a monster.

Nothing further was going to happen without your say so.

With a shy smile, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

'Thank God.'

With that out the way, his hips pressed into yours, and you let out a shocked moan into his lips, feeling his hardened dick throb with each throb of his heart.

God, he felt big.

A small pit of nervousness settled in your stomach, but you pushed it away, following instinct by lifting your hips, helping Zoro get some relief from the pain as you carefully rubbed your pulsing core against him.

And it felt fantastic.

Zoro let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from the kiss and looking down between you both, his hips already meeting yours in a rhythm.

"Fuck—" he groaned, almost flopping completely on top of you, his large arms enveloping your body as he ground against you.

"Fuck fuck fuck, dammit, you already feel too fuckin' good," he kissed your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin as he dry humped you. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

You let out mousy responses to his thanks, rutting back into his hips until it wasn't enough for him anymore.

He sat up abruptly, scooping you up as if you weighed nothing and standing up on wobbly legs, walking over to your bed and setting you down less than gently.

(Franky had installed a bed in your workshop after the fiftieth time you'd fallen asleep at your desk. Yes, he counted)

You bounced as you landed, almost squeaking as Zoro's rough hands explored your body once again, tugging off your sleep clothes in a fumbling, desperate manner.

You sat up to help him slide off your shirt, his eyes catching on the soft curves of your shoulders and waist, studying the way your stomach smoothed out into your hips and thighs, your skin so soft under his touch.

He leaned down, trailing his lips against your hips and stomach, his tongue licking up your waist until it reached your breast, his mouth latching onto your hardened nipple as you shivered at the pleasurable feeling.

He whispered your name against your skin like a prayer to the gods, and you took in a sudden, deep breath.

You'd never imagined your name sounding so sexy.

'This has to be a fucking dream, it has to be...'

Something like this would never actually happen to you—so you decided to just enjoy it.

Soon, your pants followed your shirt, landing on the floor behind Zoro.

He stood, staring down at you with dark eyes, his chest heaving, you almost matching him with how hard you were breathing.

Suddenly, he pulled your underwear off, exposing your soaked core to the freezing air of your workshop.

"Wait, Zoro, I've never—"

You couldn't even finish your sentence, his mouth already meeting your core, his tongue driving into you while his thumb circled your clit.

"Zoro!" you cried out, your hand reaching down to grab his soft hair, bucking your hips against his mouth.

It felt better than anything you could've ever imagined.

But just as quick as it came, his tongue left you, your whine not even making it halfway before your back was arching, all three of his fingers shoved into you.

The mix of pain and pleasure was delicious, and you almost instantly understood why some peple were addicted to it.

His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, his diits unraveling you so easy.

You moaned his name like a broken record, the heat in your face reaching down your entire body, sighing as he pulled his fingers out.

You watched, intently, as Zoro tugged off his pants, his boxers going with his clothes, landing right next to yours.

He was gorgeous.

Years of hard, grueling training left him toned, every bit of him defined and carved by the gods.

He stroked his cock, and something churned in your stomah at the sight of it.

It as really big—if this was real, then you'd be sore beyond belief.

You swallowed, letting Zoro maneuver your body and legs as he lined himself up, rubbing the pink-tipped head of his dick against your folds.

He looked into your eyes, and smirked, before pushing in with one motion, his eyes snapping shut at the feeling of your hot, soft walls.

In an instant, his body cooled down, allowing a moment of relief before it came back twice as painful.

Meanwhile, you had breathed yourself through it quite well, the painful sting already beginning to disappear.

Suddenly, he let out a pained, lustful moan, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in.

It as simple at first, a novice pace, the sound of your wet cunt suctioning around him echoing throughout the room.

Your breath was suddenly stolen as Zoro pressed down into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as his hands pinned your wrists to the bed.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he growled.

He sounded like an animal in heat, his hips hammering into yours, the sound of your cunt being abused growing louder.

"Ah...ah...aah!" you panted, drool leaking down the side of your mouth as Zoro fucked you hard, his hips slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound only turning you on even more.

And it seemed to be doing the same to Zoro.

He bit your shoulder, moaning so loud you were sure the entire ship would've had complaints.

If this wasn't a dream, of course—which you were positive it was.

Your first orgasm came fast and hard, fireworks exploding in your vision as the coil wound in your gut snapped.

Zoro let out a tutered groan, frantically pulling his dick out and coming all over your stomach, the amount a concerning one.

But he was still unsatisfied.

With a grunt, he clutched his side, another cramp rushing through his body and forcing him to flip you over, pulling up your hips.

Your face burned as he ignored your sputtering words, sliding back into you, his breath hitching as you clenched down on him yet again.

Using his strength, he practically overtook you with his body, arms wrapped around your waist and hips pistoning as he hammered you like there was no tomorrow.

You couldn't even breath, each thrust knocking the wind out of you.

Fixing his position, Zoro shifted his hips ever so slightly, sitting up on his knees, forcing you to see stars.

Ecstasy flooded through your body as your front half went completely limp, panting moans pushing from your chest with each slap of Zoro's hips against your ass.

It wasn't long before your second orgasm came crashing through you—not as intense as the first but ust as hard.

Feeling himself right on the edge, he quickly pulled away, letting out a brathy whisperof your name as he pumped himself, releasing all over your back.

It continued like this for a while, the pain only disappearing after two more rounds.

And once it did, he carefully let go of your hips, them dropping like dead weight as all of your strength was completely sapped away.

Zoro was utterly exhausted, panting and aching everywhere, but he could only imagine how you felt.

He himself had never made it past first base with a woman before—he'd never had time for relationships, sexual or romantic—but he wasn't stupid.

He'd heard many a tale about the soreness that exists after sex for women.

And you had done him a serious solid.

So he forced himself to stand up, pulling on some pants before walking to the bathroom on tired legs and grabbing a few wash rags.

He got you cleaned up with the warm, damp ones, before using a cold one to cool the rest of your body.

But once that was done, he had no energy to do anything else, allowing himself to fall back against the pillows, breathing heavily.

Though, he didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

He couldn't just leave you after what he did...and if he was being honest, he didn't want to.

Watching your sleeping form, snoring softly and snuggled under the sheets, brought a certain warmness to his heart he had never felt before.

He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but the least he could do was hold you in his arms while he had the chance.

Maybe, one day, this could be real.

BONUS !!

The shouts of your captain snatched you from your death-like sleep, waking you with a groan as your eyes fluttered open, only to be blinded by the golden rays of morning light seeping through the window.

You let out a tired whine, covering your head with your pillow.

'I knew I should've got those curtains...'

Sitting up, sluggishly, you almost immediately regretted it when a jolt of pain shot through your core, the following soreness and aching rippling throughout the rest of your body.

"The hell?" you winced at the pulse between your legs.

It practically hurt to breathe.

And you had no idea why.

Confused, you lifted the blanket to check what was wrong, only to find that you were completely naked.

'Oh, shit... oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!'

You whipped your head around, looking for any sign of the handsome pirate, only to find him snoring soundly right next to you, one of his arms haphazardly strewn around your waist.

Going off his positioning, it looked like you two were tangled in the sheets, his arms holding you protectively for most of the night.

"Last night was real..." you muttered, wincing again, your voice nearly gone.

A raspy tone only acquired after screaming nearly all night long

'Oh, shit! Fuck! The others! I was so loud!'

Frantic, you didn't realize how close you were to the edge, your lips letting a yelp slip as you fell over.

Instantly, you hit the floor with a harsh thud, letting out a string of curses as another jolt of pain coursed through your legs and hips.

"Fuck..." Zoro groaned as he patted the space next to him, attempting to feel for you as he stirred awake from the noise. "Where the hell did she—oh, shit, (y/n)!"

Realizing you were on the ground, his eye shot wide, and he quickly scrambled to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist and effortlessly hoisting you into his lap.

"Crap, (y/n), are you alright?! Are you hurt?!" he asked, frazzled, and still trying to wake up. "Shit, (y/n), I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for all this to happen. I shoulda listened to you and left the damn sake alone."

To say he felt ashamed was an understatement.

He was absolutely mortified.

The events of last night began coming back to him in flashes, the pit of guilt in his stomach sinking deeper with each one.

Where he dragged his tongue against your skin...

Every hickey and bite mark he left behind...

The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing against him...

That's not how he wanted your first time together to be.

He wanted it to be something slow and special, something a woman like you deserved.

But instead it was fast and in the spur of the moment, all because he was stupid enough to guzzle some mystery drink and fall under the effects of a lust spell.

"I—"

Raising your finger to his lips, you silenced him, eyes suddenly lidded as you leaned forward, forcing the two of you to lay back down, much to his confusion.

"Talk later," you mumbled, sleepily, nuzzling into his side as you pulled up the covers. "Sleep now."

Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you let out a smooth, content sigh, slowly drifting back into slumber.

Incredulous, Zoro let out a small chuckle, but complied anyway, his arms snaking around your waist once more, pulling you further into him with a slight smirk.

Maybe he had that jug to thank after all...

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #op

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago

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Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕

Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.

Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.

He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.

He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.

His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.

So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.

‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.

‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’

‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.

‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.

‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.

‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.

‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.

‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’

And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.

Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.

He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.

He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.

He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.

Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.

‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.

‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’

Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘

‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’

Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.

‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’

‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.

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synthetickitsune · 5 months ago

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Jeonghan (SVT) | Nap fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader A/N: @hanniedream :)

This isn’t what you had planned when you joined Jeonghan for his nap after lunch.

Can it even be called a nap anymore when it’s been 3 hours?

You wake up feeling like you got hit by a train and woke up in a parallel universe. Your limbs feel so heavy it’s not even worth moving them and you’re not sure what amount of water you’d need to drink to get rid of the headache. You’re almost tempted to ask Jeonghan to bring you a painkiller, but then you stop.

If you’re in bed and just woke up, that means he must be still sleeping.

Carefully as you can with your body basically a deadweight you turn around. Sure enough, Jeonghan is still fast asleep. His chest rises and falls in a steady, slow rhythm. Just looking at him makes you feel like succumbing to sleep again. Maybe more sleep would fix everything - except that has never worked for you and you know better than to hope it would this time.

So you do the only smart thing you can - you sit up. Honestly your throat feels like you’ve been gurgling sand and a bathroom break sounds great too. And then perhaps afterwards you’ll feel good enough to be productive or at least awake enough that you’ll put on some movie and chill. Yet before you can get up, you feel warmth over your hand. You look back to see Jeonghan’s hand covering your, his brows furrowed slightly. He looks so pitiful.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” you whisper to soothe him.

He doesn’t remove his hand but when you slide your hand away and get up, he doesn’t stop you either.

It’s only when you’re standing at the sink minutes later that you realize you forgot to take your phone with you. Now that shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is.

When Jeonghan hesitantly brought up his desire for a staycation instead of planning anything for the first time off he had in months, you agreed without a single doubt that it’s the best way to enjoy each other and recharge like you both needed to. The first thing you agreed on and promised to follow was ‘sleep when you’re tired, for as long as you’re tired’, and you promised not to wake him up unless it was an emergency.

Your boyfriend promised the same without you asking him too - and honestly that’s for the best because usually the ‘emergency’ you’d be woken up to is him just waking up from a nap and needing someone to tell all about his crazy dreams. Other times he just gets lonely. Honestly you know it’s an excuse to look out for you. He knows you don’t like to sleep for as long as you did today in the middle of the day.

So now that you’re standing in the kitchen without your phone, you can’t help but sigh. Going back to the bedroom is risky enough, but looking for the device? You’re bound to wake him up.

Still, you have no idea how long he’s going to keep sleeping and you’d rather avoid getting a notification that will wake him up anyway.

You creep into the bedroom quietly, pleased to note that you’ve gotten better at it upon seeing Jeonghan sleeping as peacefully as when you left the room. He doesn’t stir when you reach the bed either, and fortune is on your side because your phone is right there - peeking from under the corner of your pillow. Right there.

You wrap your fingers around it and at that precise moment Jeonghan’s hand shoots towards the device too. You pull back, thinking he must’ve just wanted to check the time and thought it was his own phone.

He did not.

Met only with the cold surface of the item, he blinks his eyes open - bloodshot and teary, clearly woken up from a deep sleep, while he aims and catches your forearm this time.

“Where-?” he groans, falling back into the mattress again.

“I just woke up, Hannie,” you sigh, sitting down now that he’s awake, “I’ll be in the next room.”

“No,” he whines, trying and failing to open his eyes again. He whimpers again and you get the message loud and clear.

Lying down, you help him put his hand on your waist and return your embrace. “There, I’m here.”

He hums quietly. His lips press against your forehead as if he wanted to kiss you, or maybe tell you something. You’ll never know. Now that you’re safely in his arms, his breathing is already even yet again.

You try to fight off the lingering exhaustion, push back the sudden heaviness to your body and your eyelids. It’s a lost fight. Jeonghan is so warm and his arms slung over your waist and the memory of his desperate need to have you close make your heart flutter.

If this is what your body demands, then perhaps you need it.

You stop struggling against the pull of sleep.

You earned this opportunity to rest as much as you can. You don’t have to do anything but recover.

And very few things are as precious and healing as waking up to Jeonghan’s beautiful eyes and smile, no matter the time or how messed up your sleeping schedule will be.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #jeonghan scenarios #svthub #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt reactions #drabble

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tsxkkis · 4 months ago

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# iwaizumi hajime - cuddles 101

a/n: i'm a firm believer that the more 'intimidating' looking guys love being little spoons and you can't convince me otherwise (theory tested on my boyfriend actually) so yeah, here's a short stupid fic about that :33

summary: iwaizumi can't find a good cuddling position.

warnings: none

to think the blessing of having iwaizumi hajime as a boyfriend would bestow itself upon you was indescribable.

for you, he was an evident example that good, loving men still existed out there. his nonchalant, cold exterior was merely a facade, a shell that cracked with each day spent with you; his eyes gentle and his gaze filled with admiration each time it landed upon you. he was considerate of your feelings, a true gentleman who always put your needs above his and, although a bit closed off when it comes to his feelings, did everything for your relationship to work out.

it was safe to say that iwaizumi was indeed perfect at everything.

well, except cuddling.

'let's switch positions, please.'

'again? it's the sixth time already, iwa.'

the short-haired boy turned to face you, tired eyes looking up. after a particularly hard volleyball training, the only thing he wanted to do was lay down in his lovers embrace and have a quick nap. the problem arose when, with each position he tried, he couldn't possibly close his rest for more than approximately three minutes.

a sigh left iwaizumi's lips as he turned to lay on his side with his back facing you, one of his hands still intertwined with yours so that he got the chance to feel your touch even when not 'traditionally' cuddling.

you could see his back muscles underneath the t-shirt he was wearing, gently tracing circles around them with your free hand.

'now that i think of it,' you mumbled, getting up to lay closer to him 'you've never been the little spoon.'

'that's because it's your place.' he said after a short while, already feeling your arms wrapping around his torso, trapping him in a warm hug.

'doesn't hurt to try, right?'

he mumbled a silent 'sure', his body succumbing to the tiredness as his muscles loosened under your touch, a smile on his face as he got himself comfortable.

and to your surprise, he stayed that way, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly but surely fell asleep, breathing steadily through his nose. he looked so calm, so peaceful - so different from what he presented himself as on a day to day basis.

he looked incredibly cute.

you almost couldn't help yourself, hand reaching for your phone from behind you, opening the camera to snap a quick picture or two of your boyfriend in such a sweet moment. you smiled to yourself, giving iwaizumi a quick kiss on the cheek before laying back down, a big grin on your face.

next thing you knew, a picture of iwaizumi hajime peacefully sleeping in your arms was set as your phone lockscreen, proudly showing it off to your friends who stared at the picture with awe. normally, he would get embarrassed about it; already hearing the teasing comments his friends would make, brows furrowing in annoyance at a mere thought of what they would say. but this time, he did not mind.

because he finally found the perfect cuddling position and as stupid as it may sound, it was enough to make him happy.

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @luvvrgirll @serotoninbarbz @sugaraddict301

#tsxkkis #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #aoba johsai x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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pumpkin-bats · 5 months ago

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Their Favorite Part of You- OP Boys Headcanons

Their favorite physical part of you (in general but also to touch). Sfw with some slight suggestiveness.

B for Body ~

Law:

He's a hands man. He won't go out of his way to hold your hand in public, but if your hands are bumping each other or close enough to tangle, you bet your bottom dollar he's lacing your fingers together without a word.

Absentmindedly massaging or rubbing your hands for comfort, the equivalent of petting a dog. Sensory support.

Loves comparing hand sizes and has a tendency to just put his hand next to yours or pressing them palm-to-palm and just quietly observing. Occasionally with a small smile.

Will never tell you this, ever. But he sometimes rubs your ring finger when he's feeling extra affectionate and quietly imagines a future with you.

Zoro:

You think he has a thing for your hands given the amount of hand holding he does but it's really the shoulders he likes the most.

When training or working out with you, he always rests his hands on your shoulders whenever he has the chance to.

He doesn't do massages, but during naps he'll wrap his arm around you and rub your shoulder with his thumb until you both fall asleep.

He takes the concept of burdens upon the shoulders more seriously than he needs to. Rests his head on your shoulder and occasionally hopes that he's helping remove some of your burdens for you.

Sanji:

Your ears are the first place he looks when he flirts with you. He thinks it's adorable when they get red.

He doesn't do the worship type of simping, but whenever you take the time to listen to him about his thoughts or feelings he gets the urge to kiss the tips of your ears.

Something he enjoys is whispering into your ear to tell you something because it's a great excuse to bring his face closer to yours (not that he needs an excuse).

When you cuddle or are lying in bed, he occasionally likes to spend a second stroking the shell of your ear knowing its a sensitive and vulnerable spot that you willingly let him touch and the amount of trust that implies.

Ace:

Your eyes are his favorite thing about you for a multitude of reasons.

He loves the way the world reflects in your eyes and imagines that by looking in them he gets to see the way you see things. Windows to the soul and all that.

Sometimes he will lightly touch your eyelids with his thumb, mostly because it makes you close your eyes so you can't see the stupid, lovestruck look on his face.

He feels seen when you look at him. Despite his tendency to feel insecure of his worth, it's near impossible for him to not feel loved when your looking him straight in the eye in almost any situation.

Mihawk:

He's not a big cuddler, but when you do cuddle you find that the first place he goes for is your upper arms.

Always soft, passing touches on you upper arm, forearm, or lightly holding your elbow for a split second.

Any time you slip, stumble, or fall, the first place he grabs you is your arms. He cherishes them the most because he knows how gently and sweetly they hold him when you sleep.

He sees the hard work and effort you put into yourself, your life, and for other people through the lines of your arms. Like seeing the strength of a swordsman in their arms, he sees your strength in yours and thinks it's beautiful.

Buggy:

He likes your lips, and not just for kissing (though kissing has a part to play in it).

The first place he looks to determine how you're feeling is your lips. He loves everything about your smile and it makes him giddy to see it, regardless of who put it there. Although, he's even happier if he's the one to put it there.

He likes listening to you talk and finds your voice captivating, as a result he has a habit of watching your lips when you talk.

He loves how soft they are. Whenever he touches your lips or you kiss his face, it genuinely makes him feel like something invaluable and precious is telling him he's worth their love and it makes him wobbly.

Crocodile:

Whenever you're sitting together or cuddling, his hand always eventually ends up on your knee.

He likes to lightly rub or sometimes just gently rest his hand on your knee to the point he doesn't think about it when he does it.

He understands the importance of the knees for someone's ability to walk, and the idea that you choose to walk alongside him or even to him fills him with a deep gratitude.

His main reason for liking your knees is because he loves it when he has you with your arms around the back of his neck, pressed close, and him holding your leg up to his waist by the back of your knee. It usually ends up with him carrying you which he quite enjoys.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #buggy the clown #trafalgar law #portgas d ace #mihawk x reader #buggy x reader #crocodile x reader #law x reader #ace x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader

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leaentries · 9 months ago

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headcanons | luke hughes

SUMMARY: boyfriend!luke

WARNINGS: not proofread

more boyfriend!player headcanons

✮. he’s a shy lover! luke has a hard time expressing his emotions sometimes, so he often finds himself shying away or hiding his face into the crook of your neck while the two of you have a heart to heart moment. he’ll turn all red a blushy the second you start loving all up on him, especially when you tell him how amazing he is.

✮. PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR!! luke turns to absolute putty the second your fingers come into contact with his curls. like you could just be chillin on the couch and your hands will somehow find the back of his head. no joke, he will literally fall sideways into your lap so you can have a better reach. 9 out of 10 times he will most likely fall asleep.

✮. a huge foodie. loves loves loves to eat with you. we are all aware that the team calls him rusty because he’s always eating. will always have your favorite snacks in his bag so you’re never hungry. is always concerned about whether you’re eating enough or drinking enough. will take it upon himself to be with you for at least one meal of the day. yes, he does have dinner dates with you over facetime during roadies.

✮. along with this, he loves to facetime you! whenever possible, if he’s isn’t with you that is, he wants to be able to see your pretty face and yap to you about the most random things. whether it’s about your toast getting burnt or his charger breaking, you’ll talk about it.

✮. always listens to you intently. luke is the type of guy who will always make eye contact with you while you’re talking and will actively engage with you. he wants to make sure you know he’s listening and cares about what you’re saying. will bend down to your height and lean his ear in closer if you’re on the quieter side.

✮. leaves his clothes at your place on “accident.” new-flash, it’s never on accident. if luke stays at your apartment for more than a few hours there is a 90% chance he’s gonna end up leaving a hoodie or pair of sweats behind. you’ll end up getting a “i’m coming back over” text from him an hour after he left. he does this for two reasons: 1. he makes sure to give himself a legit excuse to come back and see you 2. he knows you’ll probably end up stealing said clothing item and wearing it.

✮. continuing from the last point, luke melts every time you wear something of his or something with his name on it. a little piece inside of him jumps for joy every time he sees you wearing one of his hoodies or showing up to games in his jersey. it helps ease the bit of him that gets insecure sometimes. it’s a way of telling the world that your his girl.

✮. he’s a puppy. period. he follows you around the apartment 24/7 if you’re together. never wants to leave your side unless he absolutely has to. will always pull your body into his in public so his mind is at ease. when his anxiety or worries spike, he is rushing to find or call you. you are his comfort blanket.

✮. let’s you pick out his outfits. luke had a tendency to have questionable style from time to time, so you took the liberty of making sure he is at least matching colors. you are tired. he does not like to listen, but will inevitably always wear what you tell him to.

✮. big napper/snuggler. will cocoon the both of you in blankets till you can barely move. has an alarm on his phone everyday to remind the both of you to take a nap together. doesn’t give you an option about it either. if you don’t feel like napping with him before a game, he will whine and pester you claiming that “it’s your fault if we lose” or “you’re my good luck charm, pretty girl. you have to nap with me or i won’t play good.”

✮. someone please find me a luke hughes

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes headcanons #luke hughes blurb #njd #new jersey devils #lea writes stuff ♡

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xazse · 1 year ago

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JJK MEN X PUPPYGIRL!READER

Notes: Hi, This is for my lovely jjk enjoyers, and its pretty long

Pairings: Puppygirl!FemReader x Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji (Seperate)

Tags: They might be ooc, SMUTT, Fluff, Hybrid!Reader, Blowjob, Pussyeating, MeanMen!,Manhandling, and more!, NOTPROOFREAD,

Gojo

absolutely loves you so much, when it came to finding his perfect match he stumbled upon you. You were like his carbon copy in personality, all excited and jumpy: though at times it can be a little too much if he just got off work after a long day of the higher ups nagging him, but nonetheless he reveled in your attention.

He also loves how you jumped at the opportunity to give him the wettest kisses ever! Peppering kisses all over his face while telling him how you waited soo long for him. Though from him checking the cameras all you did was sleep the entire time and occasionally grab something to eat, then go right back to napping all cute.

Oh god Gojo absolutely adores teasing and leading you on. It riles him up to see you pout when he tells you a little lie, you just trust his word a little too much! But when he sees you on the verge of tears he’ll coo and bring you into a warm hug: while still adding fuel to the fire in a condensing tone: you don’t realize because ur a little.. well dumb!

NSFW:

On some days Gojo thinks you’re the one teasing him, you’re positioned in his lap, legs wrapped around his torso. Giving him such sweet kisses oh he loves it so much. One kiss on the corner of his lips and one directly on the lips: you obviously aren’t even aware just how much you’re riling him up.

When you’ve decided you’ve had enough of kissing, you take to licking him softly, a gesture meant to calm and relax him: it does the total opposite he revels in it, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He was damn near excited when he picked up on you wearing the thinnest, tightest shorts, squeezing the outline of your cunt so lewdly, his money very well spent. Your pink tongue glides out to slide against the bottom of his lips to the top, he gladly and all too eagerly opens and latches onto your lips, already searching for your tongue and he starts sucking on it loudly, Gojo loves how within a few seconds you’re already mewling into his mouth, trying your hardest to not nip at him with your sharp teeth.

Everytime you pull away with strings of saliva breaking, he pulls you right back in, you should know better by now not to give away when he’s trying to make you feel good.

He takes it upon himself to shimmy you out of your shorts, no panties of course just the way he likes it.

He lines himself up with your awaiting hole, gojo tries to be super gentle since he’s aware you hate the stretch of his thick length, it just overwhelms you too much. You’re whimpering in his neck as he brings you around him. Pitiful pleas fill the room, right until he has you flush against his torso, his cock twitching slightly in you, the warmth you provide has him near bucking his hips into you but he remains calm.

Big strong hands grip your ass and before you know it, he’s lifting you up his cock slowly, only the tip inside before he slams you down using about only a fraction of his strength. You moan In pleasure and just a little pain.

After awhile of gojo repeating this process, not even yet breaking his pace, You’re a mess, feeling his fat cock drag against your sensitive walls over and over.

Nanami-

Nanami was a little different when it comes to selecting his favorite girl, he wanted someone calm and collected. At first he got what he wanted, you obeyed, listened so well, he loved you on your best behavior: staring up at him with star-stuck eyes when he gave you a direction.

Until you started to get really comfortable with him, that shyness which was your shell had begun to open up and Nanami was in for a real hellstorm. You had began to get really really clingy, whining and pouting when he would have to leave, clinging to him at the door, practically in tears trying to persuade him to stay. He of course couldn’t stay and sadly had to leave you to your own: reassuring you that he could see you in the cameras and talk to you, with this Information you begrudgingly let him go.

When he had checked the cameras sometime after you were on the couch laying down with his shirt being used as a pillow, your ears downturned in signal that you were not happy one-bit. When he spoke, rather low your ears perked and you jumped and quickly scanned the room, he slowly coaxed you towards the camera and he witnessed the cutest dopey grin on your face, you sat(pulled up a chair to sit near the camera) there and listened to Nanami talk just about anything.

NSFW:

Nanami’s favorite thing to do is focus solely on you, he just loves you so much, you’ve managed to implement yourself Into his daily routine. He won’t be complete if you aren’t cuddling with him at exactly 9:30, though his stoic nature will never let him say that outloud so he relays it by small lingering kisses.

Nanami knows how easy it is for you to get horny, your ears and tails betray you when they tuck themselves under and you tuck your tail in-between your legs: trying to hinder the painful throbs within your cunt, he knows it all too well, knows his goodgirl: you, wants him so badly but doesn’t wanna disturb his sleep incase he has to get early.

Nanami always has to take the lead to touch you, so he makes his move, sliding himself inbetween your legs, and you happily obliged by moving your tail out of the way.

Peeling off your panties is an easy task, Nanami wets his fingers before deftly swirling them around your clit, already attacking the source of your pleasure. You groan and move to grip his hair hard, he doesn’t mind at all.

His skilled tongue collects your cum before spreading it everywhere, getting you nice and wet. His mouth moves further up towards your clit, giving teasing little licks, his large hands grab the back of your thighs and push them, giving him a more lewd view of you spread open just for him. Cute whines leave your throat as he takes the time to admire the sight before him: cunt drooling just from a little foreplay.

Within the next few seconds he’s sucking on your clit, absolutely loving the taste of you, you mewl his name shamelessly. bucking your hips onto his face for more.

With all this nanami can finally slip two thick fingers into you, and that he does, he doesn’t wait till you adjust, simply fucking you with the digits while your head is thrown back moaning even louder, small pleas fill the air for nanami to let you cum. His fingers push the deepest they can go and you feel little pulses within you, awaiting before they finally get stronger and you cum right on his face with a loud moan, he’s already working on lapping up all the juices decorating your cunt.

Toji

Oh brother, Toji loves his pup SOO stupid, he wants her to rely on him completely, that’s where you come in, a dumb pliant thing, willing to let him do just about anything to you, and still have a blinding smile on your face. He loves the evenings where he can simply relax with you on top of him: belly flat, but he’ll never admit that outloud and especially not to you. It’s the time where he can softly stroke your hair and rub just behind your ears while you rest your eyes in complete content.

Toji notices your drooling habit a bit late, he’ll catch you staring at a certain item with some type of newfound interest, with your mouth slightly open, but there’s a simple fix where he taps your cheek twice before all that attention is once again back on him: he revels In it.

Speaking of you being too stupid, Toji does everything around the house, he can’t even trust you to wash a dish before that empty head of urs takes you somewhere else. So when he’s doing housework he’ll sit you in front of the Tv and throw on some cheesy romcon that’ll keep you busy: though it won’t even last two hours before your wandering around trying to find him.

At times you can be kind of a thorn in his side when you want to be, maybe even giving him a little attitude when he asks something of you, it surprises him every time you shoot back a snarky remark because it’s just THAT rare. He’ll ask you to repeat yourself with a serious look on his face before you back down and just does as he says.

NSFW:

When you do decide to keep that stinking attitude of yours up, ur in a world of painful pleasure because toji is mean as hell.

When he fucks you he likes to make it HURTTT, so when he’s balls deep in your poor abused pussy, slamming his hips against your ass repeatedly you can only mewl out apologies on how you’ll improve, Toji knows you’re lying of course you are, he can’t see your face but he can feel, feel the little quirk of your lip, but it doesn’t further frustrate him, no it drives him to push you even further, more than you can possibly handle.

He switches positions to pressing you into a tight mating press, youre a whole mess, dried tears, hell even new tears take their place on your face. He begins his pacing starting off slow, but eventually speeds up to what he was giving you before. It feels so good you can’t help but slur into the air on repeat. Tojis hand moves down to your tail where he yanks on it as he moves, your reaction is quick, yelping to move your tail but his grip remains tight.

After a quick while of him using you like a toy solely meant for his pleasure, your habit starts to show itself, Toji groans at the sight, this just puts the icing on the cake for him at least.

He leans in and pressing his thick tongue into your mouth, you can’t deny him when you feel like you’re already on the edge of losing yourself, so he indulges, giving you sloppy kisses whenever he can while you tighten around his cock over and over.

Toji lifts his hips up and slams back down into your already spent cunt, that’s when you start to attempt to away from your impending orgasm, he doesn’t let you move even an inch, letting you silently know that it’s gonna happen: and it sure does, he feels you spasm and twitch around him, pulling him in deeper while you cry out in pain, it hurts but the pleasure outweighs it by a ton, with ragged breathes you finally cum, your pussy contracting and convulsing while he still pounds away at you.

Geto-

Geto merely tolerates you, there’s no inbetween, he’ll let you do as you please as long as it doesn’t involve his work. But when said work is done all your attention is on him, it does feel nice to have a little stupid thing to do his bidding. You’re already on him as soon as he gives you permission, sliding yourself between his big arms and nuzzling into the crevice of his neck, it amazes him how you haven’t picked up on just what he does at work, do you know he's killed people? Of course you don’t and he’ll continue to keep you in the dark about that aspect.

When you latch onto his neck and begin to suck softly he doesn’t push you away like the first time, he had noticed a while back his pup has a habit of doing this every so often, quietly whining against him. You had mumbled to him it had something to do with your teeth, and needing something to keep you busy from the slight throb in them. He enjoys this much more than anything in the quiet space of the living room.

You love when he begins patting your tail and ears at the same time, bonus when he slips a large thigh inbetween yours and slightly bounces you, encouraging you to not stop the soft suckling.

Geto also loves cooking with you, by cooking with you he means you latched onto his torso your tail swishing back and forth so happily, following behind every step, you absolutely do not let go, until everything is finished do you finally allow him to breathe, but as soon as your plate is cleaned you’re back on him. Deft fingers combing through his beautiful black locks.

-Some days Getou has to leave for days at a time he’ll prepare some food while you’re sleeping worryfree.

NSFW:

Geto loves you in between his legs, loves when you see him spread open on the couch, practically inviting you with his happy trail on display. You show no hesitation when you crawl towards him. Your hands gripping on his fat cock, he hisses behind his teeth but continues to let you do your thing.

Freeing his cock from their confines you take to slowly stroking him but also watching his expression with a new found-interest. After a while of gathering him up you wrap your pretty lips around his tip and suckle lightly. Geto has told you how he hates when you don’t just get to the point but right now he can’t seem to give a shit, right now want he wants is to fuck your throat till its raw. When he makes an attempt to help you, you call his name in that whiny tone, telling him to let you handle it.

He doesn’t argue, but he does sit back to get more comfortable. You take him in your mouth; slowly taking him deeper and deeper inch by inch, sucking from the tip to his middle and suctioning your mouth, he groans, relaxing his head on the back of the couch. His thick hands go to knead your ears; to spur you to take more of him, you oblige and do what he wants, you can’t take all of Suguru, so both of your hands fill where your mouth can’t.

You completely pull off to suck on his neglected balls, he moans not really expecting you to do that, the heavy things fill your mouth, you continue to jerk him off while you remain down below. He feels his lower abdomen tighten and tighten and his panting speeding up, before he’s spilling his thick load.

#jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #toji x reader #toji smut #geto x reader #geto smut #hybrid reader #Jjkzsworks

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 1 year ago

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OP smutty headcanons

Warnings: ⚠️no minors pls ⚠️

Just some fun headcanons I have for some of the OP men ☠️

OP men: Zoro, Sanji, Law and Luffy.

pt. 2

Roronoa Zoro:

- he’s gonna be rough with you (are you really surprise???)

- but his aftercare is actually thoughtful. If thoughtful means getting you a wet nap to clean up and putting you to bed because he practically ruined your body

-he’s gonna be smirking pridefully when he sees you walking funny the next day

- degrading (receiving) tell him you think mihawk would be a better lover or that sanji’s stamina is stronger - he’s gonna be so pissed but he’s gonna dick you down harder. Call him weak and you’re done for, might as well save up for a new pussy.

- oral (receiving) he’s gonna sit back and relax while you do the work. Arms crossed again his chest the entire time, he’s not gonna let you know he’s enjoying himself -that’s for weak men.

- thigh kink: his favorite way to watch you get off is by riding his enormous thighs and you’re eyes have to be on him the whole time.

Black Leg Sanji:

- Praise kink (receiving) tell him what a good boy he is!

- Hand kink (giving) he only uses his hands for two things - cooking and fingering you until your juices are all over his fingers.

- Food Play (giving) he wants to feed you chocolate covered strawberries while fucking you. If you allow it, can he please lick chocolate off your nipples???

- Nipple sucking (giving) His favorite thing is to lay his head upon your lap, your fingers in his hair as he sucks on your nipples. He can cum in his pants if allowed enough time. He got mommy issues yall.

- Missionary King: he wants to see your face at all times and he wants to treat you like a Queen. And queens don’t have to lift a finger! He’s gonna take good care of you and make sure you cum first before him.

- Aftercare includes cleaning you up himself, drawing a bath for you and making sure you have enough food and water.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

- you have to take the lead, he’s kinda shy….

- but once the ball gets rolling…he tends to be a little more assertive but polite. “Is this fine?” He’ll asks when he starts to move faster in you.

- he can’t handle how cute you look when he’s inside you that he asks if you guys can do doggy style instead. He can’t focus, so that’s his favorite position.

- he’s needy and stalks you around the ship. He won’t outright say it but he’s always down to fuck. Or maybe some foreplay? He has no problem sending you two to his room with his power, he can have you naked on his bed in seconds!

- praise kink (giving/receiving) he likes when you tell him how good he’s making you feel and in return, he will (under his breath, he’s shy!) how good you make him feel.

- aftercare includes telling you to use the restroom right after. He’s a doctor ya’ll he doesn’t want you to get a UTI. But then he’ll beckon you back to the bed because he likes to cuddle. Cuddling is mandatory for at least thirty minutes. He’s the big spoon.

Monkey D. Luffy:

- he’s a little complicated, but he’s an eager lover.

- he’s a “I need it now and I don’t care where we’re at or whose around” kinda guy. There’s been enough times where the rest of the crew has come to recognize the look in his eye and quickly leave the two of you alone.

- he likes eating…so eating you out is his favorite thing to do. His head digs into your thighs and he acts like he hasn’t eaten all day. “You taste really good!”

- praise kink (receiving/giving) tell him he’s gonna be the king of the pirates and he’ll do whatever you want. Every time you make him cum, he always is thankful and rewards you with a kiss and a pat on the head. But you tell him he needs to do more than that! He does lol

- his stamina lasts forever. He can raw dog you for hours if you allowed it but most of the time you have to beg him to finish - your body can’t handle it!

- aftercare really is just him bringing food for you and him to eat in bed. Then a really long nap, his arms wrapped around you - even if you wanted to leave, you couldn’t!

……………….

Send me more characters to headcanon!

#op headcanons #one piece headcanons #Luffy x reader #Zoro x reader #sanji x reader #law x reader #op smut

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eelnoise · 11 months ago

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incandesce

zoro x afab!reader an: just some lovesick drabble because im weak in the knees for my big stinky boy. he's so cute and i wanna just snuggle w him so bad 🥺 cw: fluff :) wc: 1.1k @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @themushroomofdeath

The flash of the morning sun hits Zoro’s face like a white-hot light as he descends from the crow’s nest, freshly exhausted from training. Squinting in the daylight, he looks upon the deck below as it comes into clearer view – silhouettes of the crew fade into focus, and quickly does he scan the scene for a brief headcount. A slight warmth fills his chest, and not from the tide of day washing over the ship.

You’re not among them. You’re still asleep.

Zoro’s boots hit the deck with an audible thud, and heads turn to greet him. He offers a sleepy ‘good morning’ nod before heading right in the direction of the women’s quarters. No one stops him, nor are any words exchanged. They all know where he’s headed, just as they know why you tend to sleep in.

It isn’t often that he gets this opportunity – to join you for a nap. Most days he retires from the watch far earlier than any of the women awake, sometimes avoiding his own bed all together and simply napping in the nest. The odds are in his favor this time, and he means to take full advantage of the very limited time he can have with you. Only you.

No sooner does he creak the wooden door open that his heart skips a beat beneath his ribs. You’re there, just as he hoped you would be, softly snoozing beneath the sheets. Your hair is folded wildly about your face and the pillow beneath your head, and your lips are slightly parted with just a speck of drool glistening down your chin. Zoro can’t help but find you endearing, and seeing you in a deep, restful sleep does something to soften his stoicism.

He almost can’t bring himself to wake you, as the sudden shift on the mattress always causes you to stir – though you’re never soured by it. Never once do you make him feel unwanted or loathsome, always welcoming into your arms or by your side when he needs you most.

And, while not the most affectionate man, Zoro relishes in the love you give him. The good-willed and honest devotion that you deem him worthy enough to receive makes his head spin. Somehow you had latched onto his sin-soaked soul, cleansing it in your soft, practiced hands and invigorating him in ways long forgotten.

Memories that ache - that wear him down with the weight of the past, present and beyond - they all seem to slip away when he’s next to you. You’re his anchor, reeling him back from the somber reverie that so frequently plays in his mind. A light that burns bright even in the darkest of places, and somehow he always finds his way back to you. Zoro knows that real worth is wordless, actions speaking emphatically over all else.

And you show him that worth.

His worth.

Zoro kicks off his boots, practically tiptoeing his way around the bed to it’s open side – and though he knows it’s fruitless, he does make an attempt to slide in next to you as carefully as he can manage to. And you stir – as if right on cue, the sudden weight pressing into the mattress that rolls you against his chest.

A sleepy hum of acknowledgement befalls your lips, a small - yet simple - gesture of welcome to the man now aside you.

A hint of a smile etches into the cooks of his mouth as he returns the gesture with a hum of his own before curling his arm around your middle and burying his face into your hair and breathing in deeply. Your body is warm to the touch, and with it comes elation. Oftentimes he appreciates that you had cast the first stone, releasing him from the nigh-torturous, unknown feelings that he couldn’t possibly have navigated alone.

Zoro clings to you, as if magnetically attached around your body. His thumb drags along your tummy, up and down in a soothing yet natural response to being with you. He murmurs a throaty “Good mornin’” against your ear that makes you shiver with longing. Far too little do you get to indulge in his embrace, and though you’re not as tired as he is, you aim to enjoy the time regardless.

“Morning,” You reply, twisting your head just enough to see him and allowing your hand to fall atop his and entwining your fingers together. “How was watch?”

“Same as ever.” He whispers into you, feeling that familiar tranquil serenity blossoming within him. Zoro squeezes your body against him and moves some of your hair out of your face to place a series of pecks to your cheek before trailing up to give you a soft, tender kiss to your lips.

It hadn’t been easy, learning to love – but with you there, ready and willing to guide him at his chosen pace the whole way through his strained emotions. Not once in his life did he expect to feel this way, a man of action and ruthlessly devoted to his dream and to his course upon it. Zoro once saw life as just that – his own. A narrow pathway in hindsight, one fit enough for just himself at the end of all things.

Though now, the path had forked, widened, and along it do you walk beside him. Every decision, every step, every pinch of ash left in his wake has your name written upon it in dark, permanent ink. Zoro thinks with you in mind, acts with your face at the very forefront of his synapses. He’s grown to adore you, both body and soul.

Part of it terrifies him still. The thought of losing something more precious than words can explain dives deep into his core. In love, there is fear. Fear of loss, fear of weakness in life’s most pivotal moments, fear of losing one's sense of perception.

Though, there’s also hope. Hope and happiness and support and all else that comes with devoting your very essence to another. Seeing you smile or laugh brings him a peace that borders on inexplicable. The feeling of your hand on his bids him well wishes, each kiss a reminder of sanctuary. Every tangle between the sheets when he makes love to you renders him spellbound - the saccharine, honeyed taste of your skin on his tongue mixed in with those sighs and coos of pleasure that only he can hear, a song that only he can make you belt, it makes Zoro’s head spin with just the thought.

To Zoro, you’re beyond compare. No single person in his life comes even toe-to-toe with you, and as you snuggle against him, he allows himself to feel vulnerable. You’re his safehaven, a blessing in disguise that nabs him by the heart and never fails to lull him into a rejuvenating respite.

You’re home.

You’re his.

#one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro fluff #zoro x reader #one piece scenario #x reader #zoro x y/n

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midnightorchids · 8 months ago

Note

More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.

I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing! Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.

I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.

He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!

I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.

He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.

Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.

He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.

If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.

Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.

#fem!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

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theamberfist · 7 months ago

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Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before.

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in.

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived."

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with.

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned.

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now.

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool.

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul.

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully.

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you.

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water.

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way.

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper.

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world.

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today.

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer."

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either.

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift.

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity.

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming."

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough.

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow.

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back.

#helluva boss #helluva stolas #helluvaboss #stolas helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #stolas #stolas goetia #stolas x reader #stolas x you #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x you #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss stolas x reader

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michaelsfavgirl · 2 months ago

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porn stash

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Alone at home, consumed by boredom, you stumble upon Michael's secret stash of tapes. Lost in curiosity, you're oblivious to his return until he catches you red-handed.

Tags: smut, established relationship, breach of privacy, snooping through his stuff, mentions of pornography, masturbation, getting caught, p in v, a singular pussy spank, doggy style, squirting, overstimulation, no creampie :( dom!michael, sub!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: we're back to smut let's goooo

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

You wake up from your nap with a slow blink, stretching lazily as the afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains. The house is quiet, almost too quiet. You groan, flipping over on the bed, hoping to hear the soft sounds of Michael coming back from the studio soon. But instead, there's just silence.

With a sigh, you grab the remote from the nightstand and flick on the TV, hoping to find something that will pass the time until he gets home. The screen buzzes to life, and you start scrolling through channels, trying to find something, anything, that might hold your attention for a while. But nothing works.

The shows are cheesy, the dialogue cringe-worthy, and after five minutes of trying to force yourself through a scene, you roll your eyes and switch it off. “Ugh,” you groan, tossing the remote aside. Boredom starts creeping in fast, the empty house feeling too big, too still, and your mind begins to wander.

Your eyes lazily drift across the bedroom, over the familiar space, the faint scent of Michael lingering in the air. Everything is in its place but then your gaze lands on his bedside table.

More specifically, on one of the drawers.

The one that’s locked.

Curiosity tugs at you, a feeling that’s been there for a while now. You’ve always wondered about that drawer. Michael never mentioned it, and you never asked out of respect for his privacy. You figured it was something personal, something he didn’t want you to see.

But right now, with the house so quiet and your boredom clawing at you, that drawer seems to call out to you louder than ever.

You sit up in bed, biting your lip as your gaze lingers on it. What could be in there? Something secretive? There’s something about the way he’s kept it locked that has you more intrigued than ever. What could be so private that it’s kept behind a key?

You glance toward the door, making sure you’re still alone. Michael won’t be back for hours, he said today would be a long day at the studio. It’s the perfect opportunity to satisfy your curiosity. A little peek won’t hurt, right?

Heart racing, you slide out of bed as you approach the nightstand. Your fingers hover over the drawer, feeling a little tingle of excitement and guilt all at once.

Where could the key be?

You start searching. You check inside the nightstand’s upper drawer, rifling through the neatly arranged items, but there’s no key there. You crouch down and look underneath the table, and that’s when you spot it, a small, metal key taped to the underside of the nightstand, hidden just out of sight. A sly smile spreads across your face as you peel it off.

Your heart beats a little faster as you sit back on the bed, the key cool in your palm. For a moment, you hesitate, chewing on your lower lip as a wave of guilt washes over you. You shouldn’t be doing this—it’s his private space, after all. But then again, what harm could a little peek really do.

Taking a deep breath, you slide the key into the lock and twist.

The drawer opens with a soft click, and for a moment, all you see are a few VHS tapes stacked neatly inside. At first glance, it looks innocent enough, maybe some old home movies or forgotten recordings. But as you take a closer look, your eyes narrow, the momentary disappointment turning into your cheeks heating up.

These aren’t just any VHS tapes.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve stumbled upon. The titles scrawled on the side of each tape in Michael’s handwriting aren’t the names of movies or shows. They’re far from innocent.

Your eyes widen as you pick up one of the tapes, your fingers trembling slightly. The label reads Doggy/Anal/Squirting in bold, messy letters. Your face burns as you quickly put it back down, glancing at the other tapes. Each one has similar titles, all in his handwriting, and each one more explicit than the last.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over you.

This is his porn stash.

You can’t help but laugh nervously to yourself, your cheeks still burning as you sit back, staring at the drawer filled with explicit tapes. You never would’ve guessed. Michael always seemed so in control. To think he had a secret like this tucked away in your bedroom, just a few feet away from where you slept every night... It's a little mind-blowing.

Your fingers hover over the tapes again, curiosity piqued. He wrote the titles himself, meaning he put these together for his own, private collection. There’s something oddly intimate about that, something that sends a little thrill through you as you pick up another tape, reading the words Public/Threesome/Creampie written in the same familiar handwriting.

Your mouth goes dry as you imagine him watching these when he’s on tour, far away from you. You feel a knot tighten in your stomach, a mix of embarrassment and desire.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You know that.

But now that you’ve seen it, you can’t stop yourself.

Your fingers trace the label of another tape, and your heart races at the thought of popping it into the VHS player, of seeing exactly what he’s been watching in secret. The idea sends a flush of heat through your body, your imagination running wild with possibilities.

But before you go any further, you pause, biting your lip.

You’ve already invaded his privacy enough by opening the drawer. If he finds out you’ve watched one of these tapes... you’re not sure how he’d react. And part of you doesn’t want to break that unspoken trust between you.

Still, you can’t deny the way your body reacts to the thought of it. The thought that Michael, your seemingly perfect, polished husband, has this secret stash of pornographic tapes stashed away, it changes something in your mind.

The drawer is already open. The key already used. What’s a little more?

Your pulse races as you move to the TV, sliding the VHS into the player. The soft click of the tape being swallowed by the machine feels heavier than it should, like you’re on the edge of something big, something that will change things between you and Michael forever. But at this moment, you don’t care.

As the screen flickers to life, you lay down on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel your thighs press together, squeezing tightly as the seconds tick by, your body growing hotter with each moment. The slickness in your panties has you feeling needy, aching, and the more you wait for the tape to start, the more your mind drifts to Michael.

Finally, the screen lights up, and you’re immediately greeted with the sounds of heavy breathing, loud moans, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. The woman on screen is bent over, her face twisted in pleasure as a man pounds into her, hard and fast. You can’t help but widen your eyes at the explicitness of it, the way the camera zooms in on her pussy, stretched wide around a cock. It's raw, no-holds-barred.

Your cheeks burn but instead of turning down the volume or stopping the tape, you lean in closer. There’s something intoxicating about the graphic nature of it. You try to keep your breath steady, but it’s impossible. Each loud, wet sound seems to pull you in more, and you can’t stop thinking about Michael watching this.

Has he sat on this very bed, stroking himself while this played? The thought sends a shiver through your body. He’s been away on tour so many times, away from you, and you wonder how often he’s resorted to this. How many times has he pictured you in the same position as these women?

Your hand slips down your stomach and under your underwear, your fingers brushing between your wet folds. You bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan as you feel just how aroused you are. There’s something both thrilling and scandalous about this—watching what Michael watches in secret, knowing this is what he gets off to.

But then something shifts.

As you continue watching, you start to notice something about the women on screen. They aren’t just random actresses, no there’s something familiar about them. The way they move, the way they moan, the way they react to being fucked. It’s not just their bodies, though there’s an undeniable resemblance there as well. It’s more than that. It’s the way they look at the camera, the way they carry themselves.

They resemble you.

You almost choke as the realization hits you. Each woman in these tapes... looks like you. From the way they arch their backs to the way they tilt their heads when they moan, it’s as if Michael specifically chose women who could pass as your double.

He didn’t just stumble upon these videos. He sought them out.

You picture Michael watching these tapes, his hand wrapped around his heavy cock, imagining you. Every time you weren’t there, every time he needed to relieve his tension without you, he turned to this collection—a carefully curated set of videos, all starring women who resembled the one he truly adored and craved.

You.

A low whimper escapes your lips as your fingers find your throbbing clit, your body acting on instinct now. Your hand moves on its own, your trembling fingers slowly rubbing your glossy nub.

As you try to take care of your sensitive cunt you watch tape after tape after tape…your hunger insatiable. Your fingers move faster, circling your clit as you squeeze your thighs together, barely able to contain the pleasure building inside you. The images on the screen are raw, primal, and you can’t stop picturing yourself in the same position, moaning for Michael as he takes you the way you like it.

You’re lost in the haze of pleasure, your drenched fingers working in quick, desperate strokes against your pulsing clit. The pressure is building, your body tense and trembling as your other hand grips the sheets for stability.

Your arm is getting tired from the frantic rhythm, your hand trembling as it works your glistening heat, but you can’t stop. Not now, not when you’re so close, the familiar warmth coiling in your belly, ready to snap. The pornographic scene on the TV doesn’t help either, the loud, graphic moans and the wet slaps of flesh against flesh have you imagining him in place of the actor on screen. You see Michael’s face instead, hear his voice, his deep groans as he takes you hard, filling you to the brim with his thick cock, stretching you in ways that make your toes curl.

Your breath is uneven, your thighs shaking from the tension as you lose yourself in the fantasy. You don’t even hear the footsteps approaching the bedroom, so consumed by your need that nothing else registers.

Michael’s back from the studio. As he steps closer to the bedroom, he hears the unmistakable sounds of moans, the erotic noises seeping into the hallway. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he listens. The noises are louder than he’s used to hearing but he simply assumes you’re feeling extra needy, and not that porno playing on the tv is causing this commotion.

His cock twitches in his trousers but when he pushes the door open, what greets him is something far more tantalizing. His eyebrows raise, a mixture of surprise and lust washing over him as he takes in the sight before him. You’re on his side of the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried deep in your panties, desperately working yourself toward an orgasm while his porn tapes play on the TV. The explicit scene fills the room, the sounds of sex mingling with your own gasps and moans.

Michael leans against the doorframe, watching for a moment, his mouth slightly parted as his gaze trails over your flushed skin and the way your body moves with each thrust of your hand. His cock is painfully hard, his tip leaking at the sight of you completely unaware that he’s standing there. He could watch you like this all day.

“My, my,” he finally says with a teasing smirk, his voice deep and thick with amusement, “look at my baby.”

The sound of his voice snaps you out of your daze, and you jerk your head toward the door, eyes wide in shock. Panic floods through you as you yank your hand out of your panties, your soaked fingers trembling as you fumble to grab the remote. You scramble, trying to turn off the TV, but in your haze of embarrassment and the frustration of your unreached orgasm, your hands can’t seem to function properly.

Frustrated, you lower the volume instead of turning off the video, and the scene on the screen continues to play in the background, the wet, obscene sounds still audible, though quieter now.

Michael stands there, watching you with clear amusement, his eyes dark and heavy with lust. You can feel his gaze burning into you, making your skin tingle as you sit there, frozen and unsure of what to do. The embarrassment claws at your chest, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

“I- I was just…” you stammer, but the words die on your lips as you glance down at your fingers covered in your juices, your face burning with humiliation.

Michael pushes off from the door and walks over to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. He sits on the edge of the bed in front of you, his intoxicating scent filling your senses.

His gaze flickers to the open drawer, then to the tapes scattered on the floor. A chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he raises an eyebrow. “Got a little curious, I presume?” he asks, his voice teasing.

You nod, still unable to meet his eyes, your fingers clutching the remote like it’s a lifeline. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, your voice so soft it’s barely audible, your cheeks burning even hotter.

“What was that?” Michael leans in closer, pretending he didn’t hear you. “You’re gonna have to speak up, sweet girl.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, your voice trembling with embarrassment, barely louder than before. You can feel the weight of his stare, making you feel small under his gaze.

He smirks, tilting his head as if considering your apology. “Sorry for what, exactly?” he asks.

“For going through my stuff? Or for getting caught?” His voice lowers. “Because I think you’re only sorry you didn’t hide the evidence in time.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. He’s right, you’re not just sorry for snooping. You’re sorry he walked in on you like this, caught red-handed, mid-orgasm, watching his secret stash of porn.

“I-” you begin, but Michael raises a hand, stopping you.

“No need to explain,” he says, his voice teasing as his fingers trail along your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. “I think I already know the answer.” His fingers reach your hand, still clutching the remote, and he gently pulls it away, tossing it aside. The TV is still on, though the volume is low enough now that it’s just background noise, the moans and grunts mingling with the heavy silence between you two.

You bite your lip, feeling the tension coil tighter in your stomach as Michael leans closer, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, a slow smile tugging at his mouth.

You feel a surge of boldness coursing through you, your heart beating fast as you turn your head slightly, still flushed and embarrassed but unable to resist the curiosity building inside you.

"They look like me." Your voice is soft, but it’s enough to make Michael pause for a second, raising an eyebrow at your admission.

He glances back at the TV. His smirk deepens when he understands what you mean. "Who? The ladies?" he asks, his tone teasing, knowing the answer before you even nod.

You blush even deeper, your face heating up at the truth laid bare between the two of you. It’s not just a coincidence; Michael clearly has a type, and it’s you.

He chuckles softly, leaning closer until his lips brush against your ear. "My clever girl," he murmurs, and your heart flutters at the way he says it, his voice thick with pride and amusement.

You don’t know how to respond, your mind racing as his hand slides up your thigh. His presence is overwhelming, and you’re all too aware of the slickness between your legs, the wetness that’s soaked through your panties. Michael notices too, of course. He always does.

He grips your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to look at him. His touch is firm but not rough, commanding without being harsh. "Eyes on me," he orders, his voice low and authoritative. You obey, your gaze meeting his dark, intense eyes.

“Were you enjoying yourself?” he asks, his voice low.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes…” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

“Yeah?” His smile widens.

“You were doing such a good job, too,” he coos, his voice low and dangerous, filled with heat. “Getting yourself all worked up like that. I almost didn’t want to interrupt.”

Your breath hitches as teasing. “M-Michael…” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

“But now that I’m here…” He murmurs, “I guess it’s my turn to finish what you started.”

"Spread your legs," he commands softly, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

You part your legs slowly, your movements shy and unsure. The cool air of the room brushes against your heated skin as Michael’s gaze drops between your soft thighs, and his eyes darken with lust when he sees just how soaked your panties are. You’re practically dripping, the fabric clinging to your swollen folds, slick and wet with arousal.

He coos softly, his voice filled with a teasing sort of affection. "My poor baby.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he casually tugs your panties to the side, exposing your drooling cunt to him. His fingers slide between your slick folds, finding your pulsing clit with practiced ease. He begins to circle it gently, his touch light but purposeful. Your head falls back onto the pillow as you buck your hips a little.

As his fingers toy with your sensitive flesh, Michael glances at the TV again, the sound of the porn still filling the room. "Did something catch your eye?" he asks, his voice laced with amusement, as if he already knows the answer.

You swallow hard, your thighs trembling as he continues to tease you, but you manage to nod toward the screen. You don’t need to speak; he follows your gaze and sees the woman on top of the man, riding him, bouncing on his cock with wild abandon. The woman clearly takes control, and it makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

Michael’s lips curl into a knowing smirk as he turns his attention back to you. "Is that what you want?" he asks, his tone teasing but with a hint of challenge in his voice.

You nod, unable to find the words to express just how much you want it. It’s something you’ve fantasized about—being on top, feeling him beneath you as you move, your bodies in sync. But Michael never lets you. He’s always been the one in control, always the one calling the shots in bed. The idea of you straining to pleasure him is a foreign concept to him. You’ve never dared to voice your yearning. Until now.

He grins softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Not happening," he says, his tone firm but playful, as if he finds your request cute but entirely out of the question.

Your face falls, you pout at his response. But before you can protest, Michael’s hand moves faster, his fingers toying with your pearl in quick, sharp motions that make your whole body jolt with pleasure. A soft, needy whimper escapes your lips, and you instinctively arch your back, pushing your hips toward his hand.

"Don’t be greedy," he warns, his voice low and commanding. He pauses just long enough to give you a soft, teasing slap right on your pussy, the sting causing you to gasp. "Or you’ll get nothing."

The sound of his dominance, the way he takes control of the situation so effortlessly, makes your breath hitch. You can’t help but nod sheepishly, your body already trembling from the tension building inside you.

Michael’s smile widens, clearly pleased with your submission. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. "Now, let’s get these off, yeah?"

Without another word, he helps you out of your clothes, his fingers brushing against your heated skin as he strips you down to nothing. He moves you into position, pressing your chest down against the mattress, your face smushed into the soft sheets. Your ass is raised in the air, the perfect angle for him to take you however he pleases. your pussy leaks with anticipation.

Michael undresses himself behind you, the sound of his belt hitting the floor making your heart race. You can hear him stroking his cock, the slick sound of lube as he preps himself.

Michael presses the bulbous head of his cock against your weeping hole. You breathe heavily as you feel his warmth. He teases you, prodding his tip into your soaked folds before slipping it out, leaving you clenching around nothing, your needy pussy instinctively trying to keep him inside.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, your body craving him. Your walls throb with want, slick and hot, desperate for the fullness only he can give you. Slowly he pushes in again, this time sinking deeper into your tight heat. Your breath hitches at the intensity of the stretch, your pussy molding around his thick shaft as inch after inch disappears inside you.

Your eyes flutter, half-lidded in pleasure, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan as he fills you completely. The feeling of his delicious girth inside you is overwhelming, your gummy walls gripping him like a vice. He pauses, letting you adjust to the fullness, his hands firm on your hips as he stays buried deep within you.

"Oh god," you breathe, the word barely more than a whisper as your body trembles beneath him.

But Michael isn’t in any rush. His hips pull back, and you can feel every inch of him as he withdraws, the slow drag of his lengthy cock making your body shudder. The moment he nearly slips out, he thrusts back in again, a little faster this time, driving his meaty shaft into you with a satisfying stretch. Your pussy squeezes around him, trying to suck him deeper.

Your gaze remains fixed on the TV screen, watching the woman riding her partner, her body moving with a freedom and control you crave. You want to ride him so bad. The thought sends a jolt of desire through your core, your pussy fluttering around him as you imagine it.

Of course Michael notices. He always does.

He shakes his head, his amusement evident in his voice as he keeps plunging deeper into you, "Stop daydreaming about it," he says, his tone dripping with authority. "You can barely take my cock as it is."

Your brows furrow in frustration. You try to say something smart to defend yourself, but before you can, he cuts you off with a sharp slam that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"Wasn't a question," he growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with more force. "You should be grateful you’re not being punished right now."

A helpless cry tumbles from your lips as his pace quickens, each powerful stroke filling you to the brim. Your sensitive pussy can barely handle the relentless pleasure, your slick walls gripping his cock as he drives into you, hitting spots that make your entire body tremble. Every vein, every ridge of his huge shaft presses against your walls.

Your legs shake beneath you, your muscles trembling with the effort to stay in position. If Michael wasn’t holding your hips so firmly, you’d have collapsed by now. His grip keeps you in place, keeps you grounded as he pistols his hips against you with a brutal intensity that leaves you breathless.

Whines spill from your lips, needy and high-pitched as your body struggles to keep up with the overwhelming sensation. His heavy balls slap deliciously against your swollen clit with each deep pump. Your eyes roll back in your head, your vision blurring as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

The sheets are damp beneath your face, muffling the sound of your ragged breathing as Michael's relentless teasing continues. His deep voice drips with amusement, mocking you for going through his things, and you can barely focus on his words as the overwhelming sensations in your body mount.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" he says, his tone laced with playful cruelty. "Had to go snooping."

His words stir a heady mix of shame and arousal. Your thighs tremble as he continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your glistening, swollen pussy with ease. The wet, obscene sounds of his cock plunging into your dripping core fill the room, mingling with the pornographic noises still playing on the TV.

"Look at this mess you're making," he groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you back onto his cock covered in your shared slickness. "All because you went through my stuff. Naughty girl."

Your vision blurs, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you feel the pressure building inside you. It’s too much—his fast, relentless pounding, the slickness of your juices making everything slippery, the way his cock stretches you perfectly. It all blurs together, overwhelming you.

You try to speak, to warn him that you’re about to lose control, but the words die in your throat, your mouth opening in a silent gasp. And then it hits you, hard.

Your body tenses, muscles locking up as a powerful wave of pleasure crashes over you. Before you can stop it, a rush of liquid spurts from your pussy, soaking the sheets and spraying onto his thighs. A loud, guttural cry escapes your lips as your face is pressed deeper into the mattress, your entire body shaking uncontrollably as you squirt. It’s messy, uncontrollable, and you can’t stop it as your pussy sprays out more of your juices, drenching everything in your wetness.

"Fuck, go on sweet girl, mark your territory," Michael groans, his voice thick with arousal as he feels the warm liquid dribble down his skin. He doesn’t stop, if anything, the feeling of your wetness covering him only spurs him on, making him thrust harder, faster. His cock slides in even easier now, the extra slickness allowing him to plunge into you effortlessly

Your body jerks with each powerful thrust, your legs shaking beneath you as your sensitive pussy clenches around him. The overstimulation is almost too much to bear, the pleasure bordering on pain as he prolongs your squirting, making it last longer than you thought possible. Your whole body is quaking, your muscles spasming as another wave of pleasure washes over you, your pussy clenching hard around his cock as you cum again.

The bed is completely soaked beneath you, the sheets drenched with your juices as your orgasm wracks through you. You’re trembling uncontrollably, every nerve in your body on fire as Michael continues to pound into you. His balls slap against your swollen clit with each thrust, the sensation pushing you further into a haze of overstimulated bliss.

"You look so beautiful when you make a mess for me," his voice thick with desire. His movements become more erratic, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. You can feel how close he is, the way his cock twitches inside you, his balls tightening as they slap against you.

His voice lowers, rough and filled with need. "You want me to fill you up, don’t you?"

You can barely find the breath to respond, your body trembling with exhaustion and overstimulation. But you nod, gasping out a breathless, desperate "yes." Your pussy still pulses around him, aching to be filled with his thick, hot cum.

Michael lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound dripping with mockery. "Mm, I don’t know about that," he says, his tone teasing as he slows his thrusts to a torturous grind. "How are you supposed to learn your lesson if I give you exactly what you want?"

Your breath hitches in frustration, your pussy clenching around him in a futile attempt to keep him inside as he suddenly pulls out. You whine, your body instinctively arching toward him, desperate for more. But he’s already stroking his cock, the slickness of your juices making it glisten as he groans at the sight of your puffy gaping pussy.

"My pretty girl," he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the way your pussy is still spread open, glossy with your arousal and his precum. He strokes his stiff cock with long, slow motions, his gaze trailing over your trembling body.

You feel the cool air hit your exposed skin as his heavy length hovers above you, and you know what’s coming next. His heavy balls are tight with need, full of his potent seed, and you can hear his panting as he brings himself closer to the edge. But instead of giving you what you crave, instead of filling you up the way you always crave, he teases you further.

With a low groan, he pumps his cock a few more times before he cums, thick ropes of his creamy seed spurting from his tip. His creamy load splashes onto your pussy, covering your folds in his sticky, milky release. You gasp at the sensation, your body still sensitive from your own orgasm, and you feel the warm liquid drip down your inner thighs.

But none of it goes where you want it most.

Not a single drop enters your aching, empty hole. He’s careful to avoid your entrance, his cum pooling around your swollen folds but never filling you. You can feel the heat of it, the way it marks you, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough. Your pussy clenches instinctively, craving the fullness of him, but he denies you.

One drop of his cum starts to seep toward your stretched hole, and for a moment, you think you’ll finally get what you want. But Michael’s hand is quick, swiping it away before it can slip inside. You let out a disappointed sigh and nuzzle your cheek into the soft sheets.

You feel utterly spent, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all. His cum dribbles down your inner thighs, marking you, claiming you in a way that makes your heart race. But at the same time, there’s a lingering sadness, a frustration at the thought of all that creamy seed going to waste when you could have been filled with it.

Michael leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the small of your back as his hands gently rub over your warm body. He’s back to being tender now, his teasing nature momentarily softened as he takes care of you.

Once he’s cleaned you up, he moves to put the tapes back in the drawer, his actions slow and deliberate as he organizes them neatly. But this time, he doesn’t lock it.

You glance up at him, your eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion, and he catches your gaze with a knowing smile. He says nothing, but the unlocked drawer speaks for itself. You know he’s giving you permission—whether it’s to test your boundaries again or to explore your curiosity more freely, you’re not sure. But either way, it feels like a small victory, a silent acknowledgment of the power you hold over him, even when he’s the one in control.

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