#the coon x reader

[percabething]

when the fandom is so small that everybody knows everybody

[crystallinestars]

If They Were Your Pet Cat (Part 2)

Headcanons for what Aventurine, Argenti, and Jing Yuan would be like as your pet cat.

This is a part 2 because I have a part 1 with Genshin characters here.

Part 3 (Gepard, Ratio, Dan Heng, Sampo)

-------------

Aventurine:

🦚 Is a domestic shorthair.

🦚 You picked him up as a stray off the streets. Aventurine looked so pitiful in his dirty and starved state, that you didn’t have the heart to leave him like that, so you brought him home. Initially, he appeared nervous and quiet during the first few weeks. Once he became accustomed to living with you, you discovered that the little, scrawny feline has a big personality.

🦚 Aventurine loves to be pampered. He always purrs whenever you brush or pet him, give him belly rubs, or chin skritches. He simply adores your attention. When you coo that he’s such a pretty kitty? Aventurine looks as smug as a cat can possibly look and follows you around the house while affectionately rubbing against your legs.

🦚 He’s very loyal to you. Anyone that comes to your house and tries to coax him to come play or get pats, is promptly ignored by the feline. The ability to cuddle and pet him are luxuries he reserves only for you.

🦚 You’d think starving out on the streets would have made Aventurine eager to eat almost anything, but no. The little rascal only eats the most expensive cat food brands and turns his nose up at anything else. Either that, or he will steal your food off your plate when you’re not looking. He’s a spoiled cat.

🦚 Aventurine likes to sleep next to you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—he will saunter up and lay down somewhere close to take a nap. It’s also a given that he sleeps cuddled up beside you in bed during bedtime. He simply likes feeling your presence since it makes him feel safe.

🦚 As such, Aventurine hates when you leave him home alone for extended periods. He’s surprisingly clingy and gets lonely easily. If you’re gone for most of the day, he’ll be very upset by the time you get home and might tear up a pillow or the curtains out of spite. If this this pattern continues for a long while, one day you’ll notice that your keys are gone. Aventurine is a smart cat and quickly figures out that when you leave the house, you always bring your keys with you. To make you stay, he’ll hide them in a spot that only he can reach with ease. Good luck getting your keys back…

🦚 That said, getting another cat or pet won’t cure his loneliness. If anything, Aventurine will become possessive and jealous because he hates having to share your attention with another cat. He’s a bit territorial of you. Similarly, he dislikes you coming home smelling like another animal, so expect him to rub against you to overwrite the scent of that other animal.

🦚 Most of all, Aventurine hates it when you get mad at him. He always looks guilty whenever you scold or yell at him, and immediately flops over onto his back to expose his furry belly to you. It’s his attempt to placate you and ask for your forgiveness. He anxiously follows you around the house and rubs his body against your legs until he’s sure you’re not mad at him anymore.

Argenti:

🌹 An Ocicat breed.

🌹 Argenti is the most photogenic cat you’ve ever encountered. He always looks graceful and dignified no matter what he’s doing or what angle you take photos of him from. Every picture comes out looking lovely. Anyone who sees your cat always says that he looks beautiful.

🌹 To keep such a gorgeous appearance, Argenti often grooms himself. He does a very good job of it, too, which is why you barely have to groom him yourself. The most you have to do is give him the occasional bath, brush out shedding fur during shedding season, and clip his claws.

🌹 As gorgeous as he is for a house cat, Argenti is a free spirit who doesn’t like to be cooped up at home for long periods of time. Whenever he wants to go out, he’ll paw at the door or windows to signal for you to open them. You were nervous about letting him out at first but soon learned that his desire for the great outdoors was unstoppable. He would venture outside one way or another, much to your befuddlement. He enjoys exploring the neighborhood but always makes sure to come home before dark. As much as he loves adventuring, he loves being in your loving arms more.

🌹 Argenti has the temperament of an angel. You could do whatever you wanted to him, and he would gracefully take it without complaining or struggling. It makes doing things like taking him to the vet, bathing, and grooming extremely easy. You could even make him wear different outfits, and he won’t mind at all. He might even like wearing some of them.

🌹 Is very friendly. Whenever you have guests over, Argenti greets them at the door and purrs while rubbing against their legs. He also readily engages in play and comes if they call him. He does this with everyone who comes through your door, so he’s pretty well-liked among your social circle. However, he doesn’t sit on your guests’ laps or cuddle with them since he’s too active to be a lap cat. Such privileges are available only to you.

🌹 His overly friendly and affectionate personality extends to more than just people. He can purr for other animals he finds during his little excursions outdoors, or even inanimate objects. You once caught him rubbing up against one of your potted plants…

🌹 If you’re scared of insects, then Argenti is the cat for you. Whenever he hears you shriek because you saw a bug, he runs over to your side and promptly fends off the heinous critter. He easily catches and kills any insects so that you, his owner, don’t have to be scared anymore. You can sic him on anything, and he’ll get rid of it for you.

🌹 Argenti is sensitive to your emotional state. Whenever you’re upset, Argenti brings a toy over to you to try and get you to play with him and take your mind off whatever is bothering you. If that doesn’t cheer you up, then he lays down on your chest and licks at your face with his rough tongue. It’s his way of soothing you. He’ll purr on your chest until you feel better.

Jing Yuan:

🦁 A Maine Coon.

🦁 Is a big and lazy cat. Jing Yuan will chase a toy around the house if you play with him, but he generally prefers to snooze by a window while catching some rays of warm sun. He can more often than not be found napping in some cozy and warm corner of the house. When you’re not home, he’ll also sleep in your bed under the blankets.

🦁 Jing Yuan has a calm temperament. He’s very well-behaved during grooming and handles bathing, drying, and brushing like a champ. He’s chill as a cucumber and doesn’t put up a fight while you do your thing in maintaining his long coat. In fact, he’s so laidback, that you could squeeze and rub him all over and he won’t lash out at you, instead tolerating everything with what you can only describe as a smile.

🦁 As accepting as he is of all your affections, he has boundaries. Jing Yuan is generally not fond of being squeezed and terrorized, especially by people who invade his personal space (like rambunctious children or people who bury their faces in his fur). If one such person is in your home, Jing Yuan will vanish without a trace as soon as he hears their footsteps. He only tolerates such treatment from you because you’re his beloved owner.

🦁 Jing Yuan likes being petted and praised but prefers it if these affections come from you. He especially enjoys being brushed by you, and purrs when you comb through his fur. He can even fall asleep on our lap during brushing since the process relaxes him so much.

🦁 He’s a very intelligent cat. Sometimes you talk to him as if you were talking to a friend or family member, and Jing Yuan would meow back in response at appropriate times during the conversation, as if he were replying to your comments. He also has this intelligent look in his golden eyes, as if he understands everything you’re saying. It can be a bit uncanny at times.

🦁 On top of his ability to respond appropriately to your speech, Jing Yuan also easily senses whenever you’re upset. If you feel down, he will stick to your side or lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. If you cry, he’ll lick your tears away. He remains by your side until you’re all better, and won’t leave you alone for anything.

🦁 Is very curious about everything that you do. When you cook, Jing Yuan sits somewhere in the kitchen and watches you busy yourself with whipping up a meal for yourself. He likes to sniff the ingredients you’re working with, either to identify them or discover a food he hasn’t encountered before. Rest assured that he won’t eat anything without you explicitly offering it to him. However, if you have something yummy like fish or chicken cooking, he expects you to share some of it with him once it comes time to eat. He wants to eat delicious things too, not only cat food.

🦁 Frequently sees you off when you leave the house. Likewise, he patiently waits for you at the door when it’s time for you to come home. He’s a bit like a dog in that way.

[truefant4sy]

sundress.

gif credit: samijey

warning: unprotected sex, daddy kink, floor sex and more nasty shit

as y/n waited backstage to see joshua after his rough match with ilja once he walked back stairs the medics wasted no time cleaning and bandaging his bloody ear. Once his eyes met hers, he wasted no time walking over to her "hey baby" he greeted her while serving what she was wearing before narrowing his eyes at her "you look cute" she looked down at her pale blue sundress that contrasted with her warm brown skin "thank you" she said giving him a shiny smile.

He reached his hand out "cmon i gotta go grab my stuff from my dressing room" she took his hand and stood up, his arm rested over her shoulder as her arm slid around his waist, once they reached the dressing room he quickly closed the door and locked it "you did really goo-" his hand was wrapped around her neck as he pulled her in for a sloppy kiss that put her into a daze "what was that for?" she asked licking her lips "you know why, walking around here lookin like that." he replied running his hands over his face "looking like what josh?" she asked knowing damn well what he meant. his eye twitched before he changed the subject.

"Can you grab my duffel bag ma?" she nodded and looked around to see the black bag sitting on the floor by the couch.

she bent over to pick it up feeling the breeze against her folds, she could hear him take a sharp deep breath "you just like fucking wit me huh?" he asked her as she turned around to hand him his bag the look on his face was making her wetter by the second "what did I do now?" she asked playing stupid "baby ima need you to stop playing wit me alright?" he grabbed the bag and tossed it back down before grabbing her by the waist and kissing her his hand going underneath her dress and gripping at the bare plump flesh of her ass making her softly groan into his mouth as he sucked on her tongue.

with one hand still on her ass the other hand snaked to the front and began rubbing at her moist clit making her legs weakly shake "ouu wait a minute" her hand wrapped around his wrist trying to move his skilled fingers off the puffy bundle of nerves "nah you wanna walk around here like that ion wanna hear you say shit."

she whined letting go of his wrist before snaking her arms around his neck once he dipped her fingers into her wetness he sighed "you always so wet for me baby" he said before fully sliding his thick middle finger into her tight puss he pumped his finger in and out slowly "fuckkkk" she grinded her hips down onto his finger as his pace started to quicken making her cover her mouth to keep from getting too loud "m'getting so close daddy" she moaned in his ear as he kissed her jaw and neck "yeah? cum on my finger ma I wanna taste it" he purred in her ear.

Once he said that she wasted no timing letting her orgasm go making her legs shake even more, making him have to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her up "oh my godd- shit" his hand was now covered in her sticky white nectar he pulled his finger out of her and went to taste it, he sucked on his finger "you taste so damn good I wantchu to taste this baby" she wrapped her brown lined lips around his finger and sucked the small bit left of her pleasure off of his finger before leaning back in to kiss him her manicured hand was now palming his dick thru the leather pants he had on making him groan "whatchu want baby? you gotta tell me" he spoke deeply his eyes on her hand that was rubbing at his hard dick "mm I want you to fuck me." she told him gripping his dick just to make him groan.

he scooped her up and tossed her on the couch her face towards the wall "tell me how bad you want this dick ma" his hand rubbing at her ass and back "I want it so bad daddy" she bucked her hips back arching her back making her perky ass perk out more "yeah?" she nodded quickly making him chuckle, he pulled his dick out rubbing at it in its full glory his pink tip dripping precum onto the caramel base.

he lifted her dress up above her titties he soon was rubbing the fat tip of dick all between her folds making the woman shiver "cmon daddy please" she begged him "shh I got you" once he pushed it in the both groaned in unison his strokes starting off slow before he quickened his pace making her get louder "fuckk daddy please don't stop please" she knew he couldn't stop but the thought of it was bringing tears to her brown eyes "I aint baby just throw that ass back on yo dick mama this all for you" he groaned grabbing at the back of her neck, she of course obliged and started to jerk her hips back onto him the sounds of their skin slapping getting louder "fuckkk mama just like thattt, who's pussy is this huh?" he asked her and when he got no reply he smacked her ass harshly "yoursss" she gripped at the back of the couch .

When he pulled out she turned her head around ready to talk shit but he quickly picked her and put her in front of the mirror that was on the wall next to the couch in his dressing room and onto the floor forcing her to be on all fours before he quickly slid his dick back in, he wrapped his tatted arm around her neck putting her into a chokehold and lifting half of her body up the angle of her thrust making her bite her plump bottom lip hard enough to draw blood "oh my goddd daddy I can't take it" she whined even though her actions didn't match her words at all with her hips still jerking back to meet his thrust "yes you can take this shit like a big girl I know you can" his face was close to the side of hers.

His other hand went down her body down to clit to start rubbing at it making her hips falter their movements and try to move away from his thrust all together "nah nah don't start that running shit baby" he warned her, as much as she wanted him to keep going she couldn't help but run his back shots were always lethal and every time she tried to run "mm i cant help it-" she cried out his fingers working at her clit faster "yes you can stop running from me baby" as he spoke everything went black as her eyes rolled back into her head as she felt the biggest wave of pleasure rush over her "oh my fucking goddd daddy im cumming im fucking cumming" her words falling out her mouth "that's right baby cum on yo dick this dick is all yours I promise mama shittt" his thrust got harder as he chased his own wave of pleasure "shit mama I'm boutta bust all up in this pretty pussy" his hips stopped and they both let out a loud moan as he filled her up with his cum.

"no more sundresses for a little bit ight?" he said jokingly as he pulled out "alright" she agreed pecking his cheek.

THE END

[local-new-kid-super]

Little things the Raccoon and Friends Squad do for a New Kid!Reader during and after a battle.

Raccoon:

☆ Shares food with you mid-battle, even his beloved honey-soaked sopapilla. He's pretty selfish on the field (as with everything else), so he doesn't share with anyone else. Expect the rest of the team to get pissy he's not sharing with them.

"Fatass, Captain Diabetes is literally collapsing, give him some fucking food!"

☆ Checks on you first after the battle, trying not to seem like he cares too much, but he's even willing to 'shed' his claws off for a moment because it's next to inpossible to bandage you up with them.

"The fuck?" He snaps, struggling to open up a band-aid pack with his sharp digits. "Fuckin' shitty Terrance and Phillip band-aids, these Canadians don't know anything about battle, New Kid."

Captain Diabetes:

☆ Stays right by your side, often in front of you. Most of his attacks are head-on, and he can take quite a few kid. Sweet Scott is more than willing to take a few hits for one of the few members of the franchise who are kind to him.

"Not to fear, new kid! No hits to tough for the power of diabetes!"

☆ Always asks for you to 'sidekick' for him. He loved being by your side when Cartman first had you partner up with him after joining the franchise. His desire to have a sidekick is a mix of it making him feel like a real, respected member of the franchise, and a slight fear if you hang out with the others, you'll realize he's kinda lame in comparison to guys like Raccoon, or heaven forbid you switch teams and meet Mysterion.

"New Kid, hey! Listen, if Raccoon assigns us partners today, will you be mine? I've even got some super snacks for us to share!"

Human Kite:

☆ Kite's always willing to provide aerial support, or pick you up to help you avoid an enemies attack. This of course pisses of Raccoon, who just gets laughed at when he takes a hit.

"Ey! Kite, you fucking traitor jew, save me! I'm the fucking leader!"

"Shut up, I couldn't lift your fatass if I wanted to! Hop on my back, New Kid."

"Ey!"

☆ He's got a bunch of little home remedies his mom gives him when he goes out to 'play', and even some packed food. After a battle, he's more than happy to plop down on the curb with you and laugh at Cartman crying post-battle.

"My mom made her special stew if you want some, it's cold as balls out here..."

Mosquito:

☆ To be honest, Mosquito can't do a whole lot to help himself, much less you, but he's gonna try and show off, just for you. Whether it means flying in and draining some enemy blood, or even taking a hit to the head because he's too busy flexing his barely visible arm muscles.

"Check it out, New Kid! I'm getting pretty ripped, bzz bzz!" He immediately gets clocked by an enemy, but please don't make fun of him crying 😥

☆ After battle, he's in charge of hydration, so he'll go around and hand out water bottles, and 'blood' for himself, which you've come to realize is kool-aid powder in sprite. He'll give you your water bottle, and hope you won't poke fun at his streaky tear marks and wobbling lip.

"H-heres a bottle, drink up for... for strength, bzz bzzzzzz." He's outright sobbing now.

Fastpass:

☆ Fastpass makes sure to crack extra jokes when you're hanging around, throwing away his respect for comedic timing to slip in a one-liner after every. Single. Hit.

"C-consider t-t-this ass-kicking e-expedited!"

"Did someone o-order t-this fist with s-s-same day delivery?"

☆ Fastpass is pretty much ready to take off after a successful fight, especially if it's the end of his patrol. Hop on his back, and he'll take you somewhere cooler than this storage facility you just whipped Prof. Chaos's ass in.

"L-lets go! I've g-got a coupon for City Wok, and I've got some post fight mu-mu-munchies!"

Super Craig:

☆ He's not really enthusiastic during battle, so if you get injured or knocked out, then he'll step in and fuck up the opposition. Otherwise, he's more than willing to ditch mid-battle and go doing something more interesting.

"This fucking sucks, new kid. Let's go get a slushy."

☆ He knows fighting can be pretty stressful from when he used to battle alongside Tweek, before the whole Freedom Pals incident, so he's happy to take you back to his house to distress with him and Stripe.

"Don't worry, Stripe. Me and the New Kid really showed those assholes not to mess with Raccoon and Friends. Now, give him a carrot new kid, he makes this real funny squeak..."

[4raykage]

@nirami-blogin

[jewbeloved]

Kind of a rant I guess? I'm kinda getting tired of having these fanfics that are probably written by 10-12 yrd olds pop up when I am searching for tfbw x reader.

I legit want to write my own tfbw x villain reader fanfic story so bad 😭 but I'm having a writers block. All of the other fanfics I have read are either boring or bad in general.

When it comes to superheroes and villains, I was never a fan of being a superhero because it's more interesting with being a villain.

Why do the authors keep making the reader act so damn dumb and weak in these stories??? That's mostly common in the female reader stories.

Don't get me started on the physical appearance they insert for the reader, I hate that sht with a passion because I want to imagine what my character is wearing without the author just randomly inserting whatever outfit I am wearing.

We are somehow more bad at hiding our identity than Butters....I'm gonna be honest, it would probably take the characters a week or more to figure out my identity since I would be good at hiding it.

I don't mind the random ability they give us as long as it makes sense with the story and not just pulled out of nowhere. Overpowered chars imo are overrated.

The author puts their oc into the story for what reason?? I always get thrown off every time a character that I do not recognize in is the story. I just click off the story immediately.

No shad to the people who write these stories, but it's pretty tiring on how I have to specify edit my searchings every time in order for me to find a fanfic that is actually enjoyable to read and I only found one so far.

So uhm...thanks for listening to my rant?

[vikkirosko]

Hi there! If it's not much trouble could you write headcanons for Coon & Friends and Freedom Pals (like, the two groups separate but the memebers all thogheter) with a reader that is like the group's personal caregiver? Like, reader is always in the sidelines of the combat and when one is "dead" they hold the hurt one in their arms and that gives them extra life points.

To be honest, I'm not quite sure how it was worth writing this request, so in the end I decided to write a platonic group request...

Headcanons Supporting role

Coon & Friends x Reader

You were one of Coon & Friends for quite a long time, but your role in the team was different from the others. You were a caregiver. Coon called you a support player. Your main task was to support wounded or "dead" allies, but at the same time you could not attack your opponents and, in principle, cause them any harm. At first you thought this role was useless, but pretty quickly your opinion changed

Every time one of your friends was injured, you came to their aid, hugging them, patting them on the back and smiling gently. There has always been gentleness and care in your actions. If your comrades were poisoned or exposed to some other harmful effect, you took an antidote, bandages or anything else from your bag that could help them. You never left your comrades in trouble and if your opponents targeted you, your comrades protected you, realizing that you would not be able to defend yourself and that it would be much more difficult to fight without you

Your teammates cherished you as a friend and as part of their team. Even Coon, who usually put himself in the role of the main character, understood how important you were in their team. He even told you that he would add your own movie to their franchise. You answered his words with a smile, doubting it, but you did not argue with him, realizing that he could be offended because of this and you did not want to become the instigator of a new quarrel in your team

You supported your teammates outside the game, but not as a superhero, but as their friend. You may have had fewer opportunities to do that, but you were going to help them anyway, even if all you could do was just listen to them, let them tell you what was bothering them. Even outside the game, you remained their support

Freedom Pals x Reader

When you first decided to start playing superheroes, you got the role of an auxiliary player. You didn't participate in the battles directly, helping your comrades. Despite the fact that your role was important and you helped your comrades, Coon often did not take into account your contribution to the team, so you did not regret when you became part of Freedom Pals. Your role in the game has not changed, but now you performed your duties with pleasure

You were always ready to help your comrades. You treated them when they were injured and revived them when they "died". You always carried a bag full of various things that could help your comrades. These were antidotes, bandages, various snacks and other useful and pleasant little things. However, most often you helped them with hugs

When you were sitting at the headquarters, you helped your friends with what you could. You didn't have many opportunities to help them, but you tried to do it anyway. When they came back to the headquarters wounded, you treated them. Mysterion was the one who least asked you for help, even if he was really wounded, so you always came to him yourself and treated his wounds, not paying attention to his displeased expression. You couldn't leave one of your friends without help

Sometimes you thought it was even great that you got the role of an auxiliary player. You doubted that you would like to harm others, even in the form of a game. Your friends understood this, so they offered you this role once. You were grateful to them. You never told them about it, but playing your role you really felt in your place

[corporatefrog]

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 9; who tf are you

✧.* featuring yn getting bugged by the coon, then yn bugging the coon

: ̗̀➛ notes - this is a scene from the original post about this au! i just loved the brick tweet and i needed an excuse to add it

tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @onaluvstowrite  @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123

[indigomarina]

Eric x Villain reader

Reader: They stole from me first! Eric (as Coon): Mhm. Reader: Stole my heart… Kyle (as Human Kite) strapping handcuffs on: It is still illegal to commit murder.

[chxcxlateghxst]

→ south park

↳ main four

↳ craig’s gang

↳ coon and friends

↳ the girls

↳ goth kids

↳ the little ones

↳ the older ones

↳ others

[local-new-kid-super]

Wendy and fem new kid bonding over girl things? The new kid actually enjoys being able to “let their hair down” around them so to speak

Sorry this took so long, I got off a south park kick and then HARDCORE back into one recently because FBW is on gamepass. Thanks for the request!

Platonic!Call-girl/Wendy x New-girl!Reader

☆ Wendy is thrilled to have another girl in town who gets her. It's not that she isn't close with Bebe, I mean, they are both instrumental in making lists on the committee, but after Bebe pulled that gun on her, Wendy worries she's a little bit of a loose cannon. Between her on and off relationship with Stan and dealing with Eric in school, this poor girl needs some stable classmates.

☆ She loves having you over to work on school work, she's class president and prides herself on being smart. Being the new kid can't be easy, and doing work to catch up to everyone in class is much harder given Mr. Garrison doesn't seem like he cares to teach. Expect lots of study hangouts, where she helps you with some class work and the two of you just chat.

☆ Wendy always asks for your input for the girls' committee lists. You might be new, but that doesn't mean you need can't have an opinion. She's also going to go over the old lists to make sure you understand the people in South Park. "Listen up, new Kid!" She exclaims. "That list was rigged, that's the old cutest boy list... there was a whole- a whole thing." She shakes her head. "All that to say Clyde isn't the cutest. Here, check this one-"

☆ Makeovers! For all her skills and talents, Wendy has been shown to be against things she thinks perpetuate beauty standards. Personally, she doesn't feel like makeup is good or bad really, but she has other stuff to worry about. She's the class president. Luckily; she has you, New kid! She's happy to let you apply some purple glitter or maybe a fun gloss on her face, just don't expect her to wear it everyday. She claims she "-Doesn't want to look like a clown hooker for her English presentation". If you teach her how to keep nail polish to the lines of her nails, she'd actually really like that. She'd roll into school with a nice purple or pink shade on her nails, shooting you a wave.

☆ If you're both superheroes, she's thrilled at the prospect of having another girl to fight with. Frankly, she hates that the freedom Pals stand for 'retribution with inclusion', but didn't even bother getting girl members. She Dislikes Raccoon and friends for more obvious reasons. She'll help you to learn hacking just like her, or if you prefer a more hands on fighting style, she'll be your guy, or gal, in the chair, surveying the security cams and radioing in all relevant data from a nearby rooftop while you complete a mission. She doesn't like the idea of sidekicks, you're a team. Two girls lifting each other up, while making super-boys cry. Plus; she's secretly been manipulating your follower count on Raccoonstagram to make it much larger than it would be normally. Your new, and shes felt alone before. Call-girl sees now reason that you should be any less popular out of costume than in.

☆ "Just hacked into the Raccoon and Friends, um, computer..." she mumbles, thinking back to the Toshiba handi-book that's taped to a cardboard box. "Anyways, looks like they've got a lead on some petty crime from the post office warehouse. Package thief." She chuckles. "Wanna bet we can handle it in half the time?"

[imtrashraccoon]

This was absolutely beautiful! Just what I needed from a hard work week! Thank you!

I really like Sea of Hope so far! Fics with a skeleton mc aren't too common from what I've seen.

First time asking this sort of thing but I saw you were taking writing requests, so I thought it couldn't hurt to ask lol.

Any chance you could write a Piratetale Fell!Papyrus meeting a female reader, preferably she's human and doesn't have experience traveling the sea even though she's always wanted too? You can make him as tsundere as you want.

Love your work, keep it up! :D

Hehe. Pirate Fell Paps... ao3 link in title.

TW: *very brief* physical violence and attempted manipulation from supposed partner (Not Paps!)

I Will Sail!!!

You had made it. You reached the Crow’s Nest tavern before the search party could catch up to you, finding yourself walking toward a rather tall Monster lounging off in the back corner. Your chest was ablaze. Finally, after all this time of longing! And yet, you prayed you had made the right decision.

There was no going back.

You ignored the calls and looks sent your way as you made your way through the tables, hoping beyond hope this was the man you were looking for. Then, once there, you gave a shaky bow of your head. There was no time for pleasantries.

“Apologies for interrupting your evening Sir, but do I have the honor of addressing the master of the Burning Rose?”

Red glowing orbs looked up from beneath an intricate tricorn hat. Though the man in front of you was mostly obscured by darkness, his fine dress and stature led you to believe he was indeed the one you were looking for. Steeling yourself, you pressed on to meet the gaze. The orbs obscured and dimmed as if squinting before shifting up, head tilting back enough to reveal the face they belonged to.

A wave of relief overtook you.

A lithe skull greeted you with that of a sharp-toothed scowl. You had been right in your assumption. He was, in fact, the captain of the Burning Rose. Papyrus R.T. Ghaster, a skeleton Monster intimidating and strong enough to navigate the mostly human merchant trade within the Ebottion Sea. Or at least, what little information your father had on the newcomer surmised. A merchant willing to travel great distances to retrieve that which any desired. The only man you had heard of that actively employed women.

Someone who could grant you a way to the seas…

Fiddling with the sleeves of your dress, you did your best to tune out the noise and rowdy nature of such a tavern after dark. Waiting.

The captain stirred from his relaxed lounge, taking a drink from his tankard before cocking his head to the side. “PERHAPS. THAT IS THE NAME OF ME SHIP.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. You had to hurry. You reckoned there wasn’t much time left.

“Very good. My name is Y/N, L/N. I am aware that you have women in your employ. As it is, I would like to request—”

“NO.”

You were a bit taken aback. He hadn’t let you finish. “But Sir, you haven’t—”

“I DON’T NEED TO HEAR TO KNOW WHAT IT IS YOU WISH, LASS. THE ANSWER IS STILL NO.” He looked away from you, uninterested as he took another draught from his drink. There were chuckles from a few others at tables close enough to hear.

You bristled. “But why!? I assure you, Sir, that despite my disposition, I would work just as hard as any man and am more than willing to learn how to do anything you might need of me.”

There was a scoff. “THAT WOULD MAKE NO DIFFERENCE. YOU WOULDN’T MAKE IT PASSED A WEEK, THAT I ASSURE YOU. YOU ARE TOO SOFT FOR WHAT WE DO. YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE GOINGS ON OF A PROPER SHIP, LET ALONE MINE.”

He was looking down on you, you could tell. Just like all the others. You couldn’t let that sway you. You could prove your worth. You just needed to convince him of that. You stepped back into his line of sight, letting all your pent-up anger from the unfairness of it all show.

You were determined.

“I can do it! I will do it! Even if I am placed as nothing more than a cabin boy, I would make it my undying goal to prove you wrong. I wish to sail captain. The sea calls to me! Surely you can at least understand that. Please, I am running out of time…”

A lot of the voices had quieted at your rant, mumbled words you couldn’t hear rumbling around you. The captain, to his credit, kept his cool. The only thing letting you know that he was even contemplating your word was the brightening of his eyelights as he stared seemingly through you.

Just as he finally leaned forward to say something, however, the door to the tavern burst open with an assortment of guards and young nobles. To your horror, you recognized most of them, your fiancé the one taking the lead.

He was quick to spot you, moving with purpose through the tavern towards you.

“Y/n! I insist you desist this unbecoming behavior at once! Your father has sent me to fetch you. Do not disappoint him any more than you already have.”

You couldn’t move. You thought you had more time. You thought you had more time!

The men were already halfway to you before you could force yourself to think, looking around for anything that could help you avoid what was surely to come. But you were stuck. Barring starting a fire with one of the lanterns or attempting to break a window, there was nowhere you could run they couldn’t catch you. All you could do was put an empty table between you. 

Your fiancé was not impressed.

“Really Y/N. We’ve gone through this. What would your mother think should she still be alive?”

You shook with unbridled anger and apprehension at being caught, still not wanting to submit. “She would have agreed with me! If she were still alive, none of this would have been allowed to happen! You are a scourge upon my life! I refuse to entertain the notion any longer of your and my marriage! I will suffer no longer under the expectations of my father!”

He was around the table gripping your arm before you could move, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise as you fought to wretch it free. Your stomach clenched uneasily with the venom with which he spat.

“You will do whatever you are told! As your fiancé, I will not tolerate you tarnishing my name by whoring yourself out to some strangers of the night!”

Something inside of you cracked at such an accusation. It was wrong and hurtful, nothing more than a jab at your reputation for daring to go against him. It hurt even more knowing this was the man your father had forced upon you.

You didn’t think about your next actions when you were finally able to pull free, simply moved how your soul so desperately wanted you to. With the balling of your fist, you brought it back just like your older brother had once taught you.

The look of shock on your fiancé’s face would have been satisfying had it not been so fleeting. Where you had managed to turn his cheek, the backhand he threw back was hard enough to knock you to the ground.

Through the pain and determination to not show just how much he had hurt you, you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps pass or the crash of a body hitting the floor. Back on your feet, watery-eyed and red-faced, you were shocked to see the back of the captain, rubbing the knuckles of a gloved fist.

Your attacker was splayed on the wood floor.

“YOU WOULD DARE BRING HARM TO THE ONE YOU ARE BETROTHED? HOW PATHETIC. YOU DESERVE NOTHING MORE THAN TO HAVE THEM TAKEN FROM YOU.”

The guards were quick to step forward as the other nobles helped your fiancé regain his bearings. By the look of it, having a hard time.

“Stay out of this Monster. This matter doesn’t concern you. Should you continue to intervene in the retrieval of this girl, we will be forced to apprehend you.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Riling yourself to snap back, the captain beat you to it with a booming gravelly laugh. 

“ON THE CONTRARY, GENTLEMAN. I BEG YOU, TRY.”

Everyone in the room was now at attention, the guards taking such offense at the notion that they predictably charged forward to make good on their threat. You were enchanted by the way the captain's eyelights seemed to glow and flash with that of hellfire, more cackling laughter filling the room.

“ALL HANDS! MAKE YOUR CAPTAIN PROUD!”

With that simple phrase, it was as if the tavern itself was on the verge of collapse; the sheer amount of hollering cheers, clashing of fists, and weapons shaking its very foundations. Broken glass and toppled drinks littered the floor as tables and chairs were used in the ensuing fight. For a while you could only watch, awed by how quickly the crew overwhelmed guards and nobles alike. 

It was enough to make up your mind. 

Picking up a bottle to aid the captain and his crew, a large hand gripped your shoulder. “OH, THERE’S NO NEED FOR THAT NOW. YOU’VE ALREADY PROVEN ME WRONG.” Smirking, he turned you to him. “SEEMS YE JUST MIGHT HAVE WHAT IT TAKES AFTER ALL.”

A heave had you mercilessly slung over his shoulder, the captain quickly turning to leave with a shout.

“COME! TIS TIME WE WEIGH ANCHOR!”

With riotous laughter and good spirits, the tavern soon emptied of crew and anything worth taking. You were carted off to a grand ship anchored within the port until you were unceremoniously tossed onto the bed in the captain’s quarters.

Heat blossomed across your face.

“WELCOME ABOARD THE BURNING ROSE, LOVE.” His voice lowered as he leaned forward. “I HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR WHATEVER COMES NEXT.”

Grand Master Post PirateTale Aus

[distantdarlings]

BY THE FIREPLACE // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 2.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library. (Fluff?, sort of Comedy)

+ WARNINGS - Language, nothing else really

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Fantasy - Mariah Carey (don't judge me)

---

“And, ladies and gentlemen, please remember: ten inches of parchment on the side effects of incorrectly transfiguring a toad back into a human!”

Professor McGonagall’s voice pierced the slight murmuring that had started amongst the crowd of students. You suppressed a groan at the assignment, knowing well enough that you’d be putting it off as long as possible. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful to be here, it was just rambling on about the properties of toad warts left over on humans after unfortunate experiments didn’t really get you going, at least, not like they did Professor McGonagall. 

You had found a kind of special liking for her after you had put yourself through the very exciting—albeit brutally difficult—process of becoming an Animagus. It had been your absolute dream since accidentally discovering that your mother was also one. You had been wandering around the garden during the summer between first and second year and had come across an absolutely beautiful doe. You had stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the creature’s beauty. Just as you were going to hold your hand out to the creature and offer it some of the grass blades clutched in your fingers, the creature before you changed entirely. Its long, graceful body curled into a small flash of light and then, without so much as a breath, your mother was back. Standing in the place of the deer. You could hardly believe your eyes.

Your mother was an Animagus and you thought you should be as well. She had warned you of the difficulties and hardships of the process and how annoying it was to have to get registered with the Ministry of Magic but you didn’t care. The wonder that had been in your eyes when you’d seen your mother transform surpassed all the cons of becoming one. You were going to be just like her. And now you were. Well…sort of. You were an Animagus but, much to your disappointment, you did not transform into a beautiful doe. You were a cat. Not a sleek black cat or a graceful Sphinx. No. You were a large, overgrown, long-haired European Maine Coon. At least, that’s what you were pretty sure you were. You hadn’t exactly performed a DNA test on your Animagi identity. You wondered if that would even work. 

The crowd of students urged you towards the door and out into the grand hallway just outside the Transfiguration classroom. The light poured through the gorgeously carved stained glass windows along the stone walls and illuminated everything in its wake. You absolutely adored the castle and its beauty and reckoned you didn’t stop and admire it as often as you should. 

A body bumped into you roughly, nearly making you lose the books clutched in your arms. You gasped at the sudden shock that went through your body when you realized you’d nearly missed a step down the staircase, your heart dropping through your ribcage.

“Hey,” you shouted. “Want to watch where you’re bloody going?”

The culprit turned with an annoyingly charming smile printed on his lips. His darkened eyes found yours amusedly and sent you a single wink. Your blood boiled.

“Sorry, darling, I’m in quite a rush,” he smirked.

“Doesn’t mean you can break through crowds like a giant,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. “Maybe you should take a second to think about the other people in this school and not just yourself for once, Nott.”

“Bite me, love.” 

Asshole. You watched the back of his head disappear amongst the rest of the students as they waded around you as if you were an island in the midst of an ocean. You could not stand that boy. He and his stupid friends had been nothing if not the most obnoxious people you’d ever met. Even from your first day, he was rude, loud, and annoying. No matter how handsome he was, he couldn’t just steamroll over people. And yet, because he wasn’t ugly in the slightest, everyone just let him do whatever he wanted. Him and all his friends. It made you so angry. 

Your eyes found your watch. You probably—erm, definitely, needed to get started on the paper for McGonagall’s class. That’s what pointed your feet toward the direction of the library. The thoughts of the warm hearth and those plush green chairs that hovered around it were calming the worries for this assignment. The library was—in your opinion—one of the most comfortable areas in the entire castle. It oozed comfort and warmth, much like your dorm room. It just felt soothing. You had noticed the amount of time you were spending in there was increasing as the days got colder. The fireplace in the dorms and common room were just as warm, of course, but those areas tended to be more populated during the day. And if you were going to get this paper done, you likely shouldn’t be surrounded by friends. You could be quite talkative when it came down to it—especially when it came down to procrastinating an assignment. 

One of the large wooden doors to the library came into view slowly as you sauntered down the stairs just before the entrance. You could practically feel the warmth radiating from the vast room. Sweetened chills broke out over your arms and a small shudder passed down your spine. You clutched your books a bit tighter to your chest as you pushed past the threshold and felt the warmth on your skin. 

You smiled gently as you made your way toward your usual fireplace. The smile on your face seemed to grow exponentially as you realized nobody was even in the general vicinity of your favorite spot and…thank Merlin…the tea cart had been brought around. The silvered, intricately designed cart that the librarian left out for wandering and cramming students sat right beside the fireplace. On it sat a few tea cups, a large, enchanted teapot that filled itself back up as soon as it was emptied, two sugar bowls, a large cream pitcher, and a few crumpets and cream horns. You might have died and gone right to the afterlife. 

You set your bags and books in your favorite armchair—the one on the left—and made your way over to the wonderful cart. You shivered in delight as you prepared yourself some tea, just the way you liked it, and grabbed a cream horn—or two. Wandlessly, you conjured the wool blanket that sat upon the foot of your bed and snuggled in amongst the cushions. This was absolutely delightful. Between the tea, the snacks, the warmth, and the dim lighting, your homework was the last thing on your tranquil mind. Your books and bag remained untouched. 

Once finished with your snack and beverage, you found yourself closely watching the curls of flames dance in the fireplace. Soon enough, absolutely without your consent, you were gently lulled to a deep sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing stilled, your hands were curled against your chest and your knees were brought up against you. 

-

Theo rounded the corner of the main stairway just before the library. He had an enormous amount of work to do and figured he wouldn’t get anything done if he stayed with his mates. He watched his feet as they jogged down the stone steps, his bag jostling on his shoulder every few moments. 

Once past the doorway, his eyes found that set of green armchairs in the corner just in front of the fireplace. There appeared to be no one in them and he smiled a bit. Hopefully he’d be able to complete all of his work without any interruptions. 

He set his bag down beside the armchair on the right. He reckoned he should start on the paper for McGonagall’s class since it was likely going to be the most difficult way. He should probably just get it out of the way, then everything else would be a breeze. 

As he began to rummage through his bag for the appropriate materials to get started, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A white wool blanket lay spread across the other armchair and an empty tea cup, plate, and school bag were discarded beside it. He figured someone had been working there only moments ago and had slipped away for a quick bathroom break or something of the like. A groan began to build up in his throat as he realized he likely wasn’t going to be alone after all. Whatever…as long as they were quiet. 

Finally, his fingers brushed his quill set and the Transfiguration book. He pulled everything out and settled himself in the chair, preparing to get to work. A thought popped into his head as he spread everything out comfortably. He wondered who had been sitting there. If it was someone he didn’t know, he’d likely have no issue ignoring them. He kind of hoped it was none of his friends, though he could have sworn he’d seen that bag before. Maybe it was Enzo’s?

An hour or so of straight working went by before Theo came to a pause and set his things aside. He stood from the chair and pulled his body into a sweeping stretch that popped a few joints along the way. He groaned at the pleasurable release, grateful that he wasn’t so stiff anymore. His hands shoved in his trouser pockets and he began shuffling in place to try and work some feelings back into his legs. 

The person who had been there previously, he realized, had never come back. Being as curious as he was, he glanced around the library, spotting only a few fully concentrated students with their heads down. Whose stuff was this? He nonchalantly wandered over to the items and squatted down next to the bag. He picked it up gently and rolled the fabric around in his hands. He wasn’t trying to be too nosy, just wanted to see if there were any embroidered initials or names. Quickly, he flipped the top flap open only to discover a messily scrawled name imprinted over the white tag near the top of the bag. It was, much to his dismay, your name. That obnoxiously uptight girl in his Transfiguration class. Every day, in and out, rubbing everyone’s nose in the fact that you were bloody awesome at McGonagall’s class and everyone else was just shit. He wondered if you were cheating or doing some favors for other students. No way you were that good at that boring class. 

A slight movement out of the corner of his eye shocked him away from the bag. His hands frantically dropped the material and he backed away quickly, not wanting to be caught snooping. Yet, he saw nothing. He glanced around wildly trying to find the culprit of the movement but not seeing anything. He could’ve sworn he—

Another movement. From the center of the white blanket. A cat. A rather large one, at that. Yawning slightly and stretching its little limbs out. His heart nearly melted. 

“Aw,” he smiled, “hello there, love. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He slowly slid his hand over the edge of the chair’s cushion and rubbed the back of his first two fingers over your head. Unbeknownst to him and your sleepy state, both were blissfully unaware of who was touching whom. You yawned once more and curled into his touch. He laughed softly at the movement and began petting your head with a full hand. A deep rumbling purr radiated from your chest at his movements. 

You weren’t sure what about this dream was so real, but bloody hell was it comforting. An unknown character in your dream was ever so gently sliding a hand over your head and occasionally scratching under your chin. Maybe it felt odd for them to do that, but it was so relaxing you didn’t care.

He stood back up and gently scooped your curled figure up, keeping the blanket wrapped softly around you. He took a seat in your armchair and placed you on his lap. His fingernails ever so slightly scratched over your head and smoothed the hair along your back. Your thick, bushy tail curled lovingly against his chest ever so often. 

Something that you didn’t know and something that Theo didn’t know, either, was that you had the subconscious tendency to transform into your Animagi identity when sleeping. Whether as part of a dream or mumbling in your sleep, every once and a while, you would slip down to your smaller self and remain curled up as such. It had been going on for a couple of months now and you had yet to notice it. Your roommates most definitely had but they had said nothing as they assumed it was a purposeful action. They figured it would be nice to sleep as a cat as well. 

The purring emanating from your soft chest rolled against his leg as he continued to brush his fingers through your fur. Your head occasionally curled further into his stomach at these gentle actions. This might have been the most relaxing dream you’d ever had. 

“Hey, man, been looking everywhere for—”

“Shush!” Theo berated the loud voice. Mattheo came around the back of the armchair with a look of confusion plastered on his face. He glanced down to see the feline stretched across his lap, an eyebrow raised.

“The baby is sleeping,” Theo whispered, smiling gently. His hands never stopped brushing you. 

“Did you find him—?”

“Oh my god, shhhhh!” Theo repeated. Pansy and Enzo followed the same path that Mattheo had. And just like him, their eyebrows cocked awkwardly. All three of them glanced at the other.

“I told all of you I was going to the library to get some homework done,” Theo whispered.

“Yeah, it sure looks like you’re getting a ton done,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“I was...,” Theo insisted, “before this baby wandered up. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

“Yeah, adorable,” Mattheo mocked, a smile building its way onto his face. “I’d love to have McGonagall Jr. sat on my lap, if you know what I mean.”

Enzo and Pansy’s faces blended from blank to confusion to realization to stifled laughter. Theo was extremely confused and becoming a little irritated. 

“Ew, what is that supposed to mean? I don’t think all cats are related to Professor McGonagall—wait, she’s not even really a cat, she can turn into one. I don’t think she’s really related to any cats,” Theo argued.

“Yeah, man—not what I meant,” Mattheo laughed. His two companions began to laugh with him. “Whose bag and stuff is that?”

Theo glanced down at the bag and snack plate that had been left behind as he refrained from rolling his eyes. He probably shouldn’t admit he knew who the stuff belonged to as he totally figured it out by snooping, but they didn’t necessarily have to know that.

“That’s that really irritating girl that’s in McGonagall’s with us, you know? The one I ran into this morning and was like ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going, blah, blah,’ do you remember?” Theo spoke.

“Yeah, I remember,” Enzo giggled. “It’s almost like she's still in the room with us.”

“I know, that’s her stuff,” he nodded in the direction of the things left behind. “I was wondering when she was going to come back and get it but it’s been like an hour and she hasn’t come back.” Theo shrugged and returned his focus back to you who still remained curled comfortably in his lap. His thumb brushed over your closed eyes and ears. 

“Did she ever leave?” Pansy laughed. “Maybe she's still here.”

“Maybe so, I didn’t go looking for her, though,” Theo responded, brushing a finger down the slope of your nose.

“Yeah, she was acting kind of catty earlier,” Enzo spoke. The three students burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs and flicking tears from their eyes. Anger rose up the side of Theo’s neck.

“What is your deal? Is something funny? Anybody want to fill me in on the joke?” he asked. They remained laughing as hard as they could, almost as if they wanted to annoy Theo further.

“Whatever, me and my new friend are going to study elsewhere. At least she doesn't laugh at me,” he harrumphed and grabbed his things, keeping you cradled tightly in your blanket in his right arm. The three students didn’t stop laughing the whole way as Theo stomped off, taking you with him, and touching his nose to yours with a smile. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Pansy chuckled, a tear falling from her eyes. “So we all knew that she's an Animagus, right?”

“Yeah, she told me last year when her acceptance letter from the Ministry came in. She was pretty excited about it.” Enzo struggled not to start laughing again. “She's really nice and really smart, I think Theo can be a bit much sometimes.”

“Yeah, I agree with that….” Pansy responded. There was a few moments of silence before Mattheo tilted his head towards the other two.

“So, we’re sticking around for when she wakes up and realizes she's sitting on Theo’s lap wrapped up in a blanket like a child, right?” he laughed. The other two chorused a variety of ‘yes’ and ‘absolutely,’ as they made themselves comfortable at a table near the one Theo had assigned as his. This was quite possibly going to be the best thing that ever happened.

Part Two!

[sepherinaspoppies]

Riding the Dragon

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ taglist

⟢summary: after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.

⟢pairing: Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

⟢warnings: 18+, MDNI, public smut, pussy on bike, cum play?, reader getting off on Aemond's bike, some tiddy succin, mentions of p in v sex, I think that it?

⟢wc: 3,064

⟢notes: this is my first time writing in reader's pov? the whole 'you' kind of perspective. I apologize if it sucks ass, I wanted to try something different. And can y'all believe I wrote majority of this when I was ovulating? HAHA

“I had a really nice time tonight.” The man in front of you says with a content and flirtatious smile on his pretty chiseled face. 

Heat coats through your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Definitely not the effect of the two glasses of wine you’d drunk not too long ago. Wine hardly ever did a number on you to slightly fuddle your conscience. 

You give him a sheepish grin, scraping the tips of your heels against the pavement, shying away from the intensity that his eye holds. “Same here. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

His face contorts in a way that clearly indicates that the feeling is in fact very, mutual. “Mind if I take down your number?” He asks, pulling out the latest new Iphone from his pocket. You only engaged in conversation through the dating app both of you met in and you thought it seemed only fair to give him your number after weeks of meeting him.

He taps a few things on his screen before you’re met with a white screen with only your first name and birthday typed. It is then when you wonder how he came about on knowing your birthday, if you had ever mentioned it in your electrifying conversations either on the app or this date. Most likely the second option. 

You knew his name, well if you’d call it that, supplying you only his first initial. By his angelic looks, he was definitely of Valyrian descent. And you hate how much of a sucker you were for those blonde bitches. You knew he was in the last year of university, double majoring in political science and business here in the capital. You also knew he had a geriatric maine coon cat, Vhagar, who’d stuck with him since he was a child. 

But that was pretty much it. 

You nod, typing out the most critical information both of you needed in order to secure the second date. “Here you go,” you hand back his phone with such caution that causes his lips to quiver in a smirk. 

He leans forward, too forward in a way you feel his breath steadily fanning your face and the warmth that radiates through his chest. You don’t pull away as his head lowers, keeping your gaze steady with his, admiring the amethyst hue of his lone eye that twinkles against the low street lights. 

A snakes his hand around your hips, which normally you’d slap away if it was any other man. But he was different. A rare gentleman who bought you a single winter rose even when you were five minutes late, let you devour the fries off his plate, and hashed your steak without asking. 

You wanted him to kiss you and perhaps even more. 

You wouldn’t say no. If anything you’d whimper out a simple “please” if it came to that. 

However, just as you expect his lips, it doesn’t come. He pulls away with a lupine smirk on his face, waiting for a response to a question you did not hear.

You cough away the slight embarrassment, “What?” 

“I asked what your password was,” 

Before you process how he did it, you see him wave the gray screen of your phone around your face, waiting for the six digit code. 

Oh. 

“I got your number but you did not get mine and you’re gonna need it when I take you out to dinner again.” The blonde in front of you points out. 

True.

It almost feels too goofy revealing the code that multiple of your friends tease you for. Nevertheless, you stutter out the numbers: one, two, three, four, five, and six. 

You hear him dryly laugh, shaking his head side to side as he types out the three sets of numbers. “Mmm, you need a better password, darling. One might think you want your personal information stolen,” He teases. You shift your thighs to a close at the term of endearment, already feeling the slightest tingles in a place where you desired him the most. 

You make a sound of agreement making a mental note to change it later tonight. After he hands back your phone, he combs back the loose silvery hair out of his face into a neat bun that well flatters his face. “Take mine for example; it’s five, twenty-two, one-thirty. Easy to remember.” 

“Is that your cat’s birthday?” You questioned. 

“No. It’s the day we matched on Tinder.” 

You are lost for words. Not even you knew the exact date you matched with him, only knowing it was around a few weeks ago. Judging by your reaction, he knew what you were thinking. 

After a few more rounds of flirtatious conversations, you both decided to call it a night, waving each other goodnight as you watched as he sped up in a black, shiny Dragon T6, a vintage motorcycle that was the second most precious thing he owned. (The first being Vhagar). You’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the list of reasons why you swiped right. A tall Valyrian man, with long locks, that rode a motorcycle definitely modeled the countless dark romance books you’d spent hours reading. 

To your frustration, the price of Uber had doubled the amount you’d paid for hours ago. Not even Uber Share happened to be near your price range. For ten gold dragons, you could buy a week’s worth of groceries!

So you sighed, turning off your phone. Your usual bus was still in service and way cheaper than the ridiculous prices of Uber. And while it was too late to be out by yourself, it was a risk you were willing to take. 

As you rummage through your wallet for some copper coins, you hear a deep, rumbling sound of an engine revving up close to where you stand. 

It’s him. Braking his bike on the side of the road where you are. His expensive Lysene suit coat no longer hugged his body, wearing only a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned, giving you an impeccable view of his perfectly rounded cleavage and the multiple hidden tattoos you didn’t know he had. 

“Hop in,” He says, pointing his head to the side. It was not a request but a demand. 

You tilt your head, unsure whether to say yes or no. “Is it safe?” You ask. His chest moves, seemingly laughing as he opens the visor of his helmet. “Of course it is. I’m a cautious driver, never had an accident and I don’t think I ever will. I made sure to drink water after a glass of wine, so I’m not under the influence.” 

He narrows his eye, observing the hesitation written throughout your face. He offers the spare helmet from his bag and hopes that it will coax the uneasiness. 

“If you’re so dubious about it then by all means the bike is yours to drive.” 

It’s your turn to laugh because the thought of you riding something of high value and rarity seemed absurd and silly. You were someone who did not have experience in driving in general whilst also being terrified of the narrow and steep roads of King’s Landing. 

But there was no humor in A’s eye. 

“You’re not serious are you?” 

He powers off the bike before he scoots back from his seat. “I am.” He eagerly pats the spot he has saved for you. 

“You do realize that this is a Dragon T6, right? They practically don’t make these anymore!” You gesture your hands around the expensive looking machine that was probably worth more than your left kidney. 

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms on his chest. “What’s your point?”

You scoff playfully, “My point is that manufacturers don’t make these anymore and if I crash it–”  

“–You should have a little more faith in yourself. Maybe this will come naturally to you but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” 

You can’t help but exhale in slight failure. This was a conversation you knew you couldn’t win with him. “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing but I happen to be a great teacher. And if you do crash I’ll buy another, they aren’t that expensive anyways.” The Valyrian man shrugs as if thousands, or hundred thousands of gold dragons were nothing. 

You mutter a “fine” under your breath which makes him all giddy with excitement and slides the helmet down your head. He double checks if it's secured before he lifts you to sit properly on his bike. 

“Or I have one or two things in mind of how you could repay me.” 

Every single piece of information he hurled your way was taken deep into your head. And you did your best to pay attention to it all under the sharp needles of nerves going through your spine. At some point he had given you little rubs up and down your back to soothe your nerves. The effect was anything but that, instead all you could think about was how his hands would feel against the bareness of your body.

Fuck. 

You tried to push those lewd thoughts away as he demonstrated the anatomy of the Dragon T6. The ignition was a little red switch right below the speedometer, whilst the clutch was on the left hand side and the accelerator in your right. The gear shift was something you had to get used to as it was not on your eye level but rather a small little lever near your foot. 

Once he feels you’ve gotten the grasp of how everything works it was time for the ultimate test. “Alright now we start. Are you ready?” He asked with an eager smile tugging his lips. 

No.

You nod your head, adjusting the mirrors to match your height. You feel the tips of his fingers lift and turn your chin towards him, “Use your words, darling.” There it was that name again that made you clutch your thighs together. You audibly gulp, “Y-yes I’m ready.”

“Good,” His hands squeeze at your hip bones to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widen almost comically to what you assume is his cock pressing insistently onto your ass. It was hard, and through the thin material of your dress you could feel it throbbing full of want and need. Gods, how will you ever focus now?

A brief image flashed through your mind of how much and what was packing underneath his undergarments. The length and thickness and how it would feel wrapped around your palm as you’d stroke him from base to tip, or the taste of him as you’d take him inside your mouth, or having his full length stuffed deep inside you as he fucked you dumb. 

Something tells you that he knows what you are thinking but neither of you speak about it. 

Finally, he takes your hands onto the handles of the clutch and the accelerator and you, being a step ahead, check if the gear is on neutral before you release the clutch and to your satisfaction it is. The blonde behind you smiles at you proudly like a teacher would to their student. 

“Now, you’re gonna slowly release the clutch and twist the accelerator slightly…there you go, good girl. You’re doing such a good job.” He coos at your ear. 

The beat of your heart raced almost out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a small accomplishment or the low timbre of his voice praising you but you welcomed it. 

With confidence you didn’t know you had, you decided to drive the rest of the way to your apartment without complications and took up every tip the man behind you advised. The cool air kissing your skin and the adrenaline wildly pumping through your veins, awoke something in you and slowly you began to comprehend why A loved riding. 

You had felt like a small bird taking its first flight through the skies. 

When you both reached the parking lot to your apartment, you returned his helmet and a small part lingering inside you did not want to let it go. You enjoyed it and the freedom it brought you.  

“That was so fun! I can’t believe it was that easy. Think I need to save me up for one of these,” You quipped patting the bike. 

He throws his head back to let out an amused laugh, “Or I can just give you this one,” A tone of nonchalant laced through his voice. 

You look at him baffled, “I was–” 

“–But first we need to get you your license before I–” 

“–Absolutely not, I was jesting.” You snipped, making him roll his eyes with a slight pout drawing out his lips.

“You’re stubborn and difficult, has anyone told you that?” You chortle thinking of the numerous times you’ve been called that. 

“Plenty of times but I reckon this won’t be the last.” 

He hums tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I guess I have to fuck it out of you.”

You blink.

The hue of your cheeks increased tenfold, your feet and body became paralyzed to what he had just confessed. 

Had he just said that to shut you up? If so it worked. 

You didn’t know how to respond to something as bold as that and to your inclination you lowered your head but the blonde behind you couldn’t have that. You felt the tips of his fingers roughly grip your jaw to meet his gaze. The amethyst hue of his eye turned into a darker shade of violet as he eyed between your eyes then your lips. 

Every part of you screamed for him to kiss you or to do something to appease the longing. 

You instinctively parted your lips when his head began to dip towards your lips. The tip of his nose brushed delicately against your own then it slowly trailed to sniff at your neck, the sweet smell of spiced peaches. 

“Nyke jaelagon ao,” He whispered in his mother language. 

“Pār emagon issa,” You said before you mentally said ‘fuck it’ and knocked the wind out of him with a kiss. 

He lets out a mix between a growl and a groan as he feels your wandering hands tugging the roots of his hair. Something you yearned to do ever since you saw how long and silky his hair was. 

And Gods did it meet your expectations. 

His lips moved against yours most ardently and with equal fervor. It was hungry and needy the way your teeth clashed with his, tongues dancing for dominance until you hissed when he bit your lower lip. 

You melted into his warm embrace, deciding to tease him by rubbing your palm on his clothed length, detecting a damp patch. You shot your eyes open, separating away your lips. 

“Did you just cum?” You panted heavily. 

A smirked, “I came when you first got on the bike and I was about to cum right now.” 

You quirked a brow, “That’s what did it for you?” Redness coated his cheeks and before you knew it his lips were on you again and his hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing the black lacy panties you wore just for him. 

“Incase you get lucky,” Your best friend Sara teased just the day before when you and her took a shopping trip to a Lysene lingerie store. 

Through some imaginary telepathic communication, you thanked Sara. 

He groaned feeling the wetness that gathered through your folds. You weren’t just wet, you were dripping like honey on a hot summer’s day. A mischievous idea popped into his mind, something so lewd that made the head of his cock twitch with excitement. 

You squealed as he swiftly turned you around and twisted the ignition switch on. Was he going to make you drive in this state? 

“Move your panties to the side.” He commanded behind you. 

You pushed away the curiosity and did what he bid you to do. “Good girl. Now lean forward a bit.” You shifted yourself forward until you could feel the warm metal of his seat pressing tenaciously at your bare cunt. 

A gasp turned into drawn out moans as the blonde behind you revved the accelerator at a speed that made stars appear in your eyes. It felt good, so obscenely good that all thoughts about being in a public setting flew right over your head. 

You began to grind yourself with the vibrations, creating as much friction to your bud as you could. 

“That’s it, darling,” He encouraged behind you, increasing power to the accelerator just enough for your arousal to coat his bike. “Fuck yourself on my Dragon.” 

You clenched around nothing, whining as you felt the pure waves of ecstasy slithering down your spine. It was unlike anything you ever felt, not even the vibrator you owned made you topple over the edge.

In ten seconds or less, you loudly moaned, not caring who heard or saw you, as your legs shaked and the coil around your stomach loosened, cumming absolutely hard. 

Your limbs felt entirely spent as if you ran three laps around Rhaenys’ hill. 

“Mmm, do not get too comfortable, now, darling.” He boasted smugly as his fingers scoop your honey to his lips, humming at the delicious taste. “I haven’t even fucked you senseless yet and after witnessing this I want nothing more but to ruin your ability to walk straight for week.” 

A low whine escaped your lips at the thought of him roughly taking you. “Is that what you want?” He questioned, lowering the straps of your dress to expose your breasts to his gaze. 

You sighed contently, feeling his tongue enclosing around your perk nipple. “Yes please,” You tenderly loop your fingers through his hair. 

“I promise I will never make you beg,” He murmurs against your breast, “But you sound so pretty when you do.” 

He had kept true to his word as he not only bent you over his bike as he fucked you raw, but took you three more rounds on your couch, bed and shower until you absolutely passed out in his arms. And for the rest of the week you couldn’t walk straight without limping. Thanks to Aemond Targaryen. 

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche @iamkookiesforyou @jeben196 @just-a-harmless-patato @moneypriestess @ladymoon666 @angelinap09

empty is who I couldn't tag sowwy besties.

[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter two

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — satoru comes home to his angry wife and he said some questionable stuff the night before. satoru meets suguru at a bar in shinjuku and they discuss what they should do with their nosy little journalist and they manage to come up with a plan on how they should deal with her, and it doesn't include the most moral of ways.

✧₊⁺ word count — 4.6k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), alcohol use, drug mentions, manipulation, mentions of sex (not with reader)

✧₊⁺ notes — well hello to all my new readers this was very unexpected for me. i started this blog with max 4 readers interacting with my work (i love you btw) and now i have 1k interactions on my ssiwm masterlist which is crazy and anxiety inducing (i’m a wuss if you couldn’t tell). but thank you to my cursed seas babies who voted for the f1 gojo series and i thank them because they brought me here and i wouldn’t have kept writing without them and thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter also short chapter because life longer chapter soon i promise :)

♪ on the floor — jennifer lopez ft. pitbull

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

previous chap. tokyo, japan | next chap. (coming coon)

The world around Satoru was hazy when he opened his eyes, barely able to make out the details of the ceiling above him. His head throbbed and pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He let out a groan before rolling over on the couch in a desperate attempt to block out the morning sunlight.

Where was he? Oh, right. His apartment. The couch. Again.

He remembered stumbling into the house at some obscure hour of the night, unaware of how he swayed as he tried to navigate the hallway of his home. Memories of the previous night came rushing back and all of a sudden, a conversation came to him—a memory of the curious face that sat across from him in the dimly lit bar, asking him questions he would usually brush off with a smirk. What was it he had said about her last night? Something about a cute, nosy journalist being at the bar. He could only hope he didn't say that out loud.

“Oh, look who finally decided to wake up." Hana stood above him, her arms crossed, glaring down at him, “How nice of you to finally come home.”

Gojou grunted, pushing himself up, though he instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea hit him. “Morning to you too,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you keep it down? It feels like I’ve been hit by a damn truck.”

“Maybe that’s because you came home drunk out of your mind, yet again,” Hana snapped. “And stumbling around the house at two in the morning, shouting nonsense about some ‘nosy journalist’? Really, Satoru?”

He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of her words. Oh right, maybe he had gone on a bit too much about that girl at the bar last night, hadn’t he? What was her name? No, she never gave it to him, had she? Or had he just forgotten?

“I wasn’t shouting. And… she was just doing her job, asking questions. It wasn’t anything"

“Just doing her job? Is that what you call it now? Going to bars and flirting with journalists instead of coming home to your wife?”

He groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Hana, I wasn’t flirting with her,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s just a journalist. You know how it is.”

“Oh, I know how it is. I know exactly how it is. You spend every other night at some bar, ‘meeting’ people, and coming home like this.” She gestured at him, sprawled out on the couch, his shirt rumpled and hair a mess, the smell of last night’s whiskey still clinging to him. “And I’m supposed to just sit here and take it? Pretend this is normal?”

“Can we not do this right now?” he muttered. “It’s too early for a lecture.”

“A lecture? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually enjoy making a mess of everything. And let me guess, you were just at the bar for a ‘break’ from everything, right?”

“Yes, actually,” he shot back, finally sitting up. "I needed a break, Hana. Do you know what it’s like? Everyone expects me to be this… perfect person, and I'm not. And then I come home, and it’s more of the same.”

“So you’re the victim here? I’m sorry, but did I ask for this life of constant rumors and watching my husband stumble in drunk, muttering about some cute journalist?”

Did he really say that last night? He couldn’t remember, but if Hana said so… maybe he did.

“That’s not—Hana, it wasn’t like that. She was just… She’s just doing research on me for some project. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Oh, of course. Just research. Because there’s nothing strange about you going off with some girl who’s practically a stranger and giving her everything she wants to know about your life while leaving me in the dark.”

He looked at her, genuinely surprised by her comment. “Hana,” he started slowly, “I don’t ‘leave you in the dark.’”

“Really? Then tell me, what about all the rumors, Satoru? The ones I have to read about in the papers? The ones I have to brush off every time someone asks if our marriage is ‘really okay.’ Do you have any idea what it’s like having to deal with that?”

Do you think I like having my life dissected by the media, or dealing with every fucking rumor about me? I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” she shot back, “but you made it worse. Do you ever think about how your actions make me look? Every time you’re out drinking, showing up in those trashy tabloids with someone else, it’s me they look at, like I’m the one who can’t control her husband.”

“So what do you want from me, Hana? An apology? Fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went out. I’m sorry I had a drink. I’m sorry I talked to some journalists. But I can’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“You can’t pretend? Satoru, you’ve been pretending for years. You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”

He stared at her, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. “Hana…”

“I can’t keep doing this, Satoru,” she said softly, her voice breaking just a little. “I can’t keep watching you spiral like this, hurting yourself, hurting me. I didn’t marry you so you could destroy yourself.”

Hana let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re not the only one with limits, Satoru. And I think I’m reaching mine.”

Without another word, Hana turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

“Great job, Satoru,” he muttered to himself, dragging a hand through his hair.

He let his gaze fall around the room, landing on a few framed pictures scattered on the shelves. One photo caught his eye—a photo of his and Hana's engagement party. The two of them had looked so happy, so in love, but that was before he let the fame and pressure eat away at him and his marriage.

“God,” he muttered under his breath. He needed to get out before the walls began to close in on him. The last thing he wanted was to sit around in the empty house alone with his thoughts. Grabbing his jacket from the arm of the couch, he stood up, ignoring the fresh wave of nausea hitting him. With a quick glance down the hallway where Hana had disappeared, he slipped out the front door.

Satoru found Suguru in their usual spot—seated in the corner of a booth in a low-lit bar tucked away in Shinjuku. He was nursing a whiskey and a cigarette between two fingers, rolling the glass, and watching the ice melt. Satoru slid in across from him and ordered himself a whiskey.

“You look like hell,” Suguru said, his mouth twitching into a faint smile as he raised an eyebrow. “Long night?”

Satoru snorted. “You could say that.”

“Ah, the usual, then,” he replied, not even looking up. “Guessing it ended with a headache and Hana kicking you out onto the couch?”

Satoru grimaced, taking the glass of whiskey the server put down in front of him. “Something like that.” He took a long sip, letting the burn trail down his throat. “Or maybe I just wanted a break from the domestic life.”

“Right. Is that why you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a wall and lost? What happened?”

“Same shit as always,” Satoru muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s pissed I was out last night. Probably more pissed that I came home talking about some journalist.”

“A journalist, huh? She’s probably wondering if she should be jealous.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly help by calling her ‘cute’ and ‘nosy’ in the same sentence. Not my best moment.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

"Tell me something I don't know." Satoru leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "This girl… she's doing this project or something on me and TJR. She was in the press booth at the race yesterday and happened to be at the same bar as me after. Seemed a little too interested in getting into my head."

"Maybe she just wants a good story for her project. Or," He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, "maybe she's looking for more than that. Journalists are like that, especially extra nosy ones. They'll dig until there's nothing left, then still find a way to bring things up."

"She wouldn't be the first," Satoru scoffed.

“What exactly did she ask you about? Anything too close for comfort?”

Satoru swirled the whiskey in his glass, thinking. "To be honest, Suguru, I can't even remember half of what she said because I was too busy staring at her tits."

"Fucking Christ, Satoru. The hell?"

"What? She's got nice tits," he shrugged. "But in all seriousness, I think she was just asking the basics at first… and I might have opened my mouth a little too much."

"Sounds like she's already done her homework. If she's that determined, she's not going to stop at surface-level questions. Do you think she knows about all of it?"

Satoru knew what he was referring to.

“I don’t know, maybe. But if she is, she’s damn good at hiding it.”

“Then maybe you should start doing the same,” Suguru said quietly. Keep her close. See what she knows.”

“You’re saying I should let her in? What the hell do you think she’s going to do if she gets any closer?”

"You don’t have to let her in. Just make her think you are. Play the game, Satoru. You can be charming when you want to be. Distract her, keep her off your trail. If she’s nosy, then give her a story that’ll satisfy her and keep her from digging deeper. You’ve got the upper hand here; use it.”

Satoru thought over Suguru's suggestion, the gears in his mind turning. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It was probably his best option. If he was going to stay ahead, he’d have to play it better than her.

“Alright,” Satoru said, setting his glass down. “I’ll get close. Make her think I’m letting her in, give her just enough to chew on. And if she does know more than she’s letting on, maybe I can find a way to turn it against her.”

“Now you’re thinking like a true strategist. Just remember, don’t let her get under your skin. Journalist's loyalty is to their story, not to their subject."

Suguru's smirk widened, raising his glass in a mock toast. Satoru clinked his glass against his before downing the rest of the whiskey.

You had decided to get a closer look at the in's and out's of how Tokyo Jujutsu Racing worked. And for that, you needed to go to TJR's headquarters. You somehow managed to get your professor to get you inside the place, although it wasn't easy and he said your payment was a good project. The place was sleek and modern, with open spaces and luxury design elements. It was a playground for the rich as much as it was a workplace.

Earlier, you had been asking the staff about Gojou Satoru's training and habits, hoping to get some good information from them. They were surprisingly open to answering your questions, and you got some more information for your project, which was overall great.

Your media pass, which had thankfully been upgraded, hung around your neck as you waited for your tour guide to take you around the place. You decided to roam around for a bit while you waited and that led you down a hallway with team posters and trophies lining the walls.

You were so lost in your observations that you didn’t even realize someone had come up behind you. “Enjoying the view?”

Startled, you turned to find none other than Gojou Satoru leaning casually against the wall. He was dressed in his team's uniform, the red and black accentuating his tall figure, with dark shades covering his eyes.

He was probably high.

“Didn’t think of you as the observant type."

You composed yourself before speaking, “I'm a journalist. I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“And you think you’ll figure that out by staring at the walls?”

“Could be. I think they tell you a lot.” You shrugged. "Like how serious the team is about their image. Or how much they care about their past wins and not their current ones. That kind of thing."

“Oh? And what do you make of me, then?”

“Still deciding. I'd like to think you're more than a drunken idiot."

"I see you still remember that, unfortunately."

“That’s what a good journalist does. They remember."

He pushed himself off the wall, straightening up to his full height. “Well, since you’re here to observe, why don’t I give you something more to write about?”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and motioned for you to follow him. You hurried to keep up, glancing around as he led you through the winding corridors. Eventually, you entered a room with a massive window overlooking the racetrack.

Gojou leaned against the railing, gesturing to the track below. "So, this is where the magic happens. The place where we come to win."

You nodded, taking in the view. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it takes more than just a fast car to win, doesn’t it?”

"Oh, absolutely. It takes balls of steel, the reflexes of a god, and just the right amount of craziness. All of those, fortunately, I happen to possess.”

“Modesty isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“Not when you’re the best."

"Right. The best has an attitude I see."

A silence hung in the hair for a few moments as you studied him.

“So, are you planning to spend the rest of your time here psychoanalyzing me?”

“Depends. Are you planning to keep giving me things to analyze?”

“Touche. Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

At that moment, a team member entered the room, interrupting the moment. "Gojou, they’re ready for you on the track."

Stay here,” he said. “You’ll want a good view of this.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the observation room. You watched as he made his way down to the track, confident as ever with not a care in the world either.

Cocky Bastard.

You stood in the observation deck for a little before you saw Gojou

You stayed in the observation room, your eyes fixed on the scene below. You saw Gojou greet a few team members, exchange words with his pit crew, and slip into the driver’s seat of his car. 

Gojou maneuvered effortlessly, weaving through turns and accelerating with insane amounts of speed. You couldn’t deny, he was talented and he had clearly worked his ass off to get here as his talent isn’t something that can be taught.

After about forty-five minutes of observing Gojou racing, he brought the car to a halt and hopped out of the driver's seat. You watched him walk into the garage and disappear out of sight, presumably going to speak to his crew.

You couldn’t deny it—there was something magnetic about him.

Your pen scratched against your notepad as you scribbled down every single detail possible.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his tall frame standing in the doorway.

“Eh,” you shrugged.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means it was okay you ass. It gave me something for my project but nothing really noteworthy.”

“You’re lucky you know that? Not many people get to see me in action.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Okay? I’m not like many people if you couldn’t tell.”

“Clearly,” he scoffed.

“Do you know you’ve racked up more racked up more fines and close calls than any other driver in the league this season?”

“Look, sweetheart,” he said, voice low, “everyone out there knows I can handle the shit I do out there. Besides…” He trailed off. “People love a driver who’s a bit dangerous. Keeps things exciting.”

You met his eyes, holding his gaze without blinking. “You think the world loves you, huh? Interesting. Because from what I’ve read, people seem split between calling you a genius and calling you a liability.”

“Hm. Is that so? Do you believe that?” he replied.

“Yes, and you would know that if you let me interview you properly.”

“Okay how about this,” he glances down at his watch. “We can meet up in the parking garage here in about an hour and you can ask me anything you want for thirty minutes.”

Wait What?

“Uh… Okay, I think I can make it,” you mumbled.

“Great! See you in an hour sweets.”

The roar of an engine echoed through the underground parking lot, the sharp screeching of tires signaling the arrival of the Gojou. You leaned against the concrete pillar, your arms crossed and your foot tapping impatiently. He was late.

You’d waited over an hour, hoping he’d attend the interview he promised you.

When his sleek black Porsche 911 came into view with his window rolled down, you got even more pissed off than you already were

“Glad you could make it,” you called out, voice tinged with sarcasm.

He stretched, not even acknowledging your tone. “What can I say? Traffic was a nightmare.”

“Sure,” you replied dryly, your patience wearing thin. “We were supposed to meet an hour ago. Some of us value punctuality.”

He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing those piercing blue eyes that could disarm almost anyone. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could get another word out, he walked right past you, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Give me a sec,” he waved his hand over his shoulder. “Gotta take care of something.”

“Wait—” you started, but he was already striding off, leaving you standing there, seething.

The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Your annoyance morphed into frustration. After waiting a bit longer, you decided enough was enough. If he thought he could blow you off, he was in for a rude awakening.

Determined, you followed the direction he’d gone. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the concrete walls as you weaved through the garage and into the back corridors of the venue.

“Mr. Gojou!” you called out. “This isn’t funny. Where the hell are you?”

You rounded a corner and stopped in your tracks. The faint sound of laughter—his unmistakable laugh—came from behind a partially open supply closet door a few feet ahead. You narrowed your eyes, creeping closer.

At first, you thought maybe he was on the phone. But as you drew nearer, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t a casual conversation.

“Mmm, you’re so bad,” a woman’s voice purred, followed by the unmistakable rustle of fabric.

Your stomach sank. No. He wouldn’t. Not right Now.

Would he?

Against your better judgment, you stepped closer, your movements quieter now. Peeking through the crack in the door, you instantly regretted it.

There he was, pressed against the back wall of the closet, shirt unbuttoned, and his hair disheveled. His hands were tangled in the hair of a woman whose face you couldn’t see, her body pinned against his as they made out with a fervor that bordered on obscene.

Was this seriously how he’d chosen to spend the time he owed you for your interview? The audacity was almost impressive.

You cleared your throat loudly, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the confined space.

The woman gasped, pulling away from him in shock. Gojou, however, turned his head lazily toward you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, there was something in his eyes—a flicker of annoyance, maybe even embarrassment—but it was quickly replaced by his usual, smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist.”

You folded your arms tightly across your chest, glaring at him. “Seriously?”

The woman, clearly flustered, muttered something about leaving and quickly ducked out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared down the hallway.

He sighed, buttoning up his shirt. “What?” he said. “You’ve never seen two consenting adults have a little fun before?”

“Fun?” you snapped. “We had an interview. You made me wait for over an hour before you showed up and then you go and do this?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “You’re the one who followed me. Maybe I would’ve shown up if you’d just stayed put. Plus, I had actually agreed to meet her here before I promised you the interview.”

“You make no fucking sense, do you know that?”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair, which only made it look messier. “I get that a lot.”

“Do you even care how this looks? You’re already under a microscope with all your scandals, and now this?”

“Why do you care so much? You writing a piece on my love life now, too?”

“No, but the media sure as hell is. What does your wife think of this? Of your reputation?”

“Reputation’s overrated,” he said, brushing past you as he headed for the door. “People are gonna think what they want, no matter what I do.”

You turned to watch him leave, your fists clenching at your sides. “Maybe if you gave them less to work with, they’d think better of you,” you called after him.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low and tired. “This is who I am. Take it or leave it.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the empty hallway, your heart pounding and your mind racing.

The sound of footsteps reverberated through the corridor as you leaned against the cold, concrete wall, still processing what had just happened. You were about to leave and write off this night as yet another chapter in the disaster that was Gojou Satoru.

But then, you heard his footsteps return.

“You still here?” he called out, voice echoing through the silence.

You didn’t move. “Should I be?”

He walked towards you, his gait relaxed, almost predatory. “Depends.” He stopped a few feet away, eyes fixed on yours. “You want a story for your project or what?”

You frowned, arms still crossed. “I’ve already seen more than enough tonight.”

 “Come by my garage tomorrow. I’ve got something to show you. Something you can use.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” 

“Fine. Tomorrow. But this better not be another waste of my time.”

“You won’t regret it.”

The smell of motor oil and metal hung in the air the moment you stepped inside the dimly lit garage. The concrete floor was stained with years of grease with tool scattered across the workbench. The garage was big, to say the least, there were rows of high-performance cars lining the walls, their glossy bodies gleaming under the garage's fluorescent lights. It was a bit of a mess inside the garage, as there were different car parts strewn across the garage.

Gojou stood beside it, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged on his forearms. The sight was so out of place.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” he drawled, tossing a wrench onto a nearby workbench with a clatter.

“Neither did I,” you shot back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the big secret? Planning on showing me how you avoid drug tests?”

“Always so sharp. No, this...” He gestured to the car. “This is one of my hobbies.”

You walked closer, eyeing the vintage vehicle with skepticism. “You? Fixing cars? Sounds like a PR stunt.”

He wiped his hands on a rag, smirking. “You think everything I do is a stunt?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“Careful, sweetheart. I might start thinking you’re obsessed with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself. I’m here for my project, not for you.”

He leaned casually against the car, arms crossed over his chest. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

“So, what’s the deal with this thing?”

“It was my dad’s. He used to take me to the track in this.”

“And you think this will make a good addition to my project? What, ‘Gojou Satoru: The Man Behind the Wheel’?”

People love a good redemption arc. Makes me more... relatable.”

You snorted. “You? Relatable? That’s a stretch.”

He pushed off the car, stepping closer again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe you just haven’t gotten to know me well enough.”

 “Or maybe I’ve seen enough to know exactly who you are.”

His smile faltered, just for a second. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I think you’re a mess hiding behind a pretty face and a fast car.”

“You might be the first person who’s ever said that to my face.”

“Good. Someone needed to.”

…

“You know, I could help you relax a bit. Take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Seriously? That’s your move? Pathetic.”

He grinned, unbothered by the insult. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Actually, I can. And I will.” You turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Cold as ever,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I like it.”

“Good for you.” You grabbed your bag, ready to leave. “Thanks for the... insight. I’ll be sure to include ‘Gojou Satoru: Amateur Mechanic’ in my report.”

“You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

You paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “Not about you.”

You barely made it five steps outside the garage before his voice called after you. "Running away already? Thought you were supposed to be fearless."

You stopped, the night air cool against your skin. Turning slowly, you saw him leaning against the garage doorframe.

“I’m not running, Gojou. I’m just done wasting my time.”

"You say that, but here you are. You could've written this off as another scandal of mine or another fall from grace. But you’re still digging. Makes me wonder why."

“Because you’re a story people want. A cautionary tale. People love watching someone like you crash and burn.”

“And here I thought you saw me as more than just some headline.”

“You’re not that special.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“What’s your deal, Gojou? Really,” you asked, voice softer now. “Is this all a game to you?”

“Everyone’s playing a game. I just play it better.”

“And what happens when you lose?”

He stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t lose.”

“Everyone loses eventually. Even you.”

“Well then,” he said. “We will see.”

He turned, walking back toward the garage, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You coming or not?”

You frowned. “What?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got something else to show you. Unless you’re too scared.”

You hesitated, every instinct telling you to walk away. But damn it, you couldn’t. There was something here, something you needed to understand and against your better judgment, you followed him back inside.

Gojou walked over to the workbench, picking up a small, silver object. He held it out to you.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it warily.

He shrugged. “Figure it out. You’re the journalist.”

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Maybe I’ll let you know the truth. Or maybe I just like fucking with you.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Before you could respond, he walked away, disappearing deeper into the garage. You stood there, the key clutched in your hand. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Gojou Satoru was a puzzle, a mess of contradictions and lies. And you were going to unravel him, piece by piece.

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