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joelsflower · 3 months ago

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love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

��How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

#my first logan pieeece #like ms carpenter said #i’m so fucking hoooorrnyyy #hope you guys like it i had so much fun writing it and have soo many ideias for him!#logan howlett #logan howlet smut #logan howlet x reader #x men x reader #x men fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #lumberjack logan #my writing

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satorulovebot · 2 months ago

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so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. the husband and his wife

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. “But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure’?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen au #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

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honey-milk-depresso · 16 days ago

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Heartslabyul: what makes you “the most beautiful being on earth” to him

HAHAH- I HAVE RETURNED (somewhat-) FROM THE DEAD >:DDDD

How long has it been?? Two years maybe?? Idfk, AND IDC IM BACK (for now-)

Ace Trappola

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being your laugh makes him laugh too.

Ace, as well all know, a bit of a clown, really. He likes doing stupid shit and making stupid jokes that really makes people crack up and laugh sometimes, intentionally or unintentionally.

But something about the way you laugh makes him laugh along. Like yeah, it was kinda stupid huh? But now he doesn’t have a reason to be annoyed or mad about it because you made it feel better. All because of the way you sound when you laugh to him (even when it’s a little gremlin laugh).

One time, he tripped over a pebble in the Heartslabyul rose garden, face first as he cursed slightly with a grouchy face. He was upset and annoyed at first, but then you laughed. Somehow… the fall from him tripping wasn’t so bad.

In fact, it made him think it was pretty funny (in a stupid way) as he slowly laugh along as he got up. He gently squished your cheeks in a teasing manner. “Alright, alright. You’re not telling anyone I tripped as stupid like that!” He huffed with smirk as you continued laughing gleefully.

He smiled softly, cheeks slightly warm as he looks at you. You’re everything he could ask for. <3

Deuce Spade

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being because of your patience and dedication to help him.

Deuce is… a bit dumb. Sometimes, not all the time. When he’s really trying his best to do math or stay awake during Trein’s classes and then wakes up to the end of it and realised he’s suddenly three chapters behind.

Coming to Ace or Grim for help is not the best, and Trey, Cater and Riddle make it feel like studying and asking for this kinda help is tiring and a bit demoralising sometimes despite his fierce determination.

But you… it’s a lot different. You’re so patient and dedicated to help him: using your free time to help him catch up when you could’ve just said no and enjoy your break, pulling all-nighters with him with snacks from Trey-senpai to keep awake and study with him, lending him your notes while helping him go through what he’s missed…

Deuce kinda feels bad for asking you for help. You’re always putting him before yourself that at one point of time he tried finding somebody else, only to realise that you genuinely like helping him which never fails to make his cheeks flushed and heart constrict. If you ever need help, you can count on him too, he’ll do his best for you! <3

Cater Diamond

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being because he can be “low energy” with you.

Cater’s always that chatty, social butterfly on Magicam and in real life, mostly when he’s in front of people.

But sometimes, he just wants to just stay low and not be that “hype man” people known him for and without them being disappointed when he’s not that.

When it comes to you, he can just be. It’s like you give of this welcoming and accepting presence and aura, that it makes he can just lie down with you on a beanbag in his room, being lowkey with his hair down, in normal, ugly home wear and he knows, you wouldn’t judge.

Cater likes a change of pace despite usually being so active, it’s just so he can chill and recharge.

He has his arms wrap around you, and for once, his phone is tucked away just for the moment. He rests his chin on your shoulder and sigh, grinning with content as he closes his eyes.

Yes… this is nice… <3

Trey Clover

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being to him is because he can be as playful as he wants.

His reason is practically the same as Cater’s but opposite: is that he always had to be that responsible, reliable, no-nonsense Vice Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul. Even when he’s mastered the arts of it, it can still be tiring.

But you help him get into his own true (somewhat) colours, whenever you’re alone with him in the kitchen, he lets his walls come down.

Trey’s actually a lot more mischievous and cheeky than he lets on: smearing frosting on your nose, pretending he’ll feed you a tart only to put it all in his mouth and watch you get all huffy, and when he’s really loose, has a bit of a flour fight with you.

It’s really a break for him, how you make him feel like he doesn’t need to be guarded, at least with you. He doesn’t need to be that picture perfect reputation he’s built and he could just be.

Although Trey still keeps himself level-headed and what not, he’ll slyly slip in a prank or two and knows you’ll do it back to him behind closed doors.

Trey has never smiled this much in a long while, be this loose in a long while… and it’s solely because of you. <3

Riddle Rosehearts

He thinks you’re the most beautiful being in the world because you make him experience what it’s like to have child-like joy.

For all his life, Riddle’s childhood was… not childhood. Being raised by his strict mother, his days, weeks, his whole life being planned and never allowed what he really wanted to do, Riddle’s life was undoubtedly quite pitiful and dull.

And that being said, him being a dorm leader and all makes him feel that he should live up to a prim and proper role model to his fellow dorm mates, forcing himself to be uptight and obey all the rules and never to play around.

Not to say, he foolishly does so but it’s also not fair for him to deprive himself like this.

And then you came along, and showed him a world where no matter what age you are, you can dream big, with your wildest imagination. He’s really only experienced that when he was a child when he played with Trey and Chenya before his mother found out and made it bitter.

Little by little, he took baby steps with you to slowly explore what was kept away from him: going to festivals with you, trying out food he’s never had before… it’s incredible, really, how much he doesn’t know when he felt like he should’ve much earlier.

It’s pure joy for him, and he has never been this happy before… he’s so glad you came to this world because you were the happiness he was searching for so long. <3

reblogs help! ^^

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marauder-misprint · 24 days ago

Note

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone.

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.”

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they?

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished.

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble.

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says.

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors.

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks.

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book.

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers.

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward.

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.”

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to.

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match.

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts.

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes.

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk.

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly.

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes.

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks.

“I, uh, I guess so.”

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine.

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you.

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness.

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him.

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you.

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face.

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.”

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment.

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?”

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon.

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie.

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did.

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over.

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note.

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his.

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.”

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him.

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

#marauders fic #marauders #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #requests #marauder-misprint

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astrolotte · 2 years ago

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have i ever mentioned that my Charlie Emily is part native btw :]

#it's 1/8th if u were wondering #i myself am 1/16th but i based the percentage off of my dad who is 1/8th and has dark curly hair like charlie #just character design rambles.#i know it's like. not that much. to be 1/16th native american. but it's always been the most important part of my identity to me eheh #like growing up i was just always more interested in it #when native american history came up in social studies classes i would pay way more attention #i'd actively look for books in the library about the Cherokee people or the Trail of Tears #as i'm ancestrally Cherokee #there was like a. ~special club~ at my elementary school thatd meet every so often #for all the native american kids in school. and we'd discuss native american history during lunch #that i got to be in. that was fun #im just rambling at this point. its a part of me that's important to me even if it's so little #and to my dad too. ive learned quite a bit of stuff from him

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heartzolivia · 5 months ago

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warnings: cursing, making out, slight praise, afab!reader, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

a/n: not proof read, this is also my first time writing in like 7 years so...

you sat in the common room of the dorms on a random friday night. everyone in class 1-A was engaged in their own activities. yours just happened to be the lightning bolt haired boy sitting across from you.

He sat on his phone playing some game with kirishima as they laughed aloud and chuckled to each other. it irked you how denki could just sit there while looking so incredibly hot. his arm veins were slightly bulging from his tight grip on his phone, his shirt was slightly lifted revealing his v line and god was it making you feel some type of way. you grabbed your phone from the side of your thighs and opened yours and denki's messages. waiting for kirishima to get up and get some water to send your message.

meet me in my room in 5.

he looked up from his phone after he received the message sending you a smirk before nodding knowing what the message was initiating. you quietly snuck away from the common room to your dorm room where you sat on your bed awaiting his knock. once a knock was heard you swung open the door, not even getting a chance to say anything when denki's lips made their way onto yours. backing you into the wall and closing the door behind him. you practically moaned into his mouth at the intensity of it all. he pulled away and started attacking your neck with his mouth.

"god I missed you so much" he whined into your neck as his hands roamed over your body. your hands found their way into his hair pulling him in closer to you if possible. "we literally did the same thing yesterday kami" you sighed out. his hands finally rested roughly on your hips underneath the sweater you wore. he pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. his eyes held so much lust and it made you weak in the knees.

"can't wait much longer...please kami I need you." you pleaded as the sensation between your legs was starting to become unbearable. at your words he picked you up and dropped you off onto your bed where you rested on your elbows looking up at him. he dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed, right in-between your legs with a grin on his face. "m' gonna make you feel so good baby" he murmured as he planted little kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer to your soaked pussy.

he flipped up the skirt you were wearing and put his thumb on your clothed clit rubbing it slowly just to tease you. you left out a soft moan at the sensation, rocking your hips up to try and release any sort of pleasure. "your so soaked pretty girl, this all for me?" he groaned at the sight infant of him. you nodded at his question. he smirked and swiftly in one motion pulled your panties off. he looked up at you one last time before attaching his mouth to your pussy. his tongue danced on your clit while his finger found its way to your entrance. he inserted one finger, sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. he worked his tongue on your clit skillfully while he inserted another finger going at a pace that felt just right.

"oh fuck! just like that baby!" you moaned out grabbing a fistful of his hair and brining him closer to where you needed it. he groaned as you pulled his hair which sent vibrations straight to your clit. "if you keep that up im gonna-" you were cut off as you shakily came around his fingers. "good job sweet girl...are you ready for me now?" he cooed eager to let his cock free from the tight holding of his boxers. you nodded and he took off his shirt quickly following his jeans leaving him in his boxers. you sat up and reached your hand out to rub him through his boxers. you pulled them down and his cock sprang free. "so pretty" you mumbled and laid back down spreading your legs from him.

he shifted in-between them and slid his tip across your clit. "don't be a tease kami" you whined. he chuckled "someones desperate." you rolled you eyes at his statement but didn't get to reply as he roughly shoved his dick into you. you gasped at the sudden action. he grabbed your hips so hard it was sure to leave a bruise as he slowly started to pound into you. his thumb found its way to your clit to rub it nicely. you wrapped your legs around him making him go deeper hitting you in the perfect spot every time. he groaned throwing his head back at the intense pleasure. "oh fuck, you feel so good. im not gonna last long" he murmured. as he increased his pace that familiar sensation brewed in your stomach, he rubbed your clit once more and you came for the second time his name coming out as a moan.

as you came you wrapped tightly around his poor cock. knowing he was about to reach his peak he pulled out and stroked himself a few times as he came on your stomach with a groan. his hot load laid on your stomach as you both caught your breathe. he collapsed next to you. "shit. it feels better every time" he said and you both laughed. "maybe being friends with benefits isn't so bad" he joked. "just get me something to clean this up with" she smiled as she pushed his head away gesturing towards her stomach. "yes ma'am" he smiled.

#mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha fluff #mha smut #denki kaminari #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #mha headcanons #mha scenarios #mha imagines #bakugo katsuki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #ejirou kirishima

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salem-witch-slut · 1 month ago

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He Doesn't Know (18+)

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You said you loved him all the time... But you couldn't care less about him. He wasn't her. No man could compare to Abby Anderson.

WARNINGS: Modern AU!, Semi-public sex (car sex), strap-on use (r!receiving), pussy eating, hair-pulling, choking, cheating, improper use of church parking lot, age gap (14 years), dom!Abby, sub!reader, no use of y/n, slight knife/blood kink, very aggressive sex (im warning you, it's intense)

WORD COUNT: 4K

A/N: You guys heard "Scotty Doesn't Know"? Yeah, well I heard the song and ran with it. Fight me. Also, I have very deep and disrespectful vendettas against men named Dylan. 95% of them suck.

Sunday morning was bathed in the golden light of the sun rising, basking the old church building in the most prolific illumination with the golden accent to the stain glass windows. Rainbows were cast across the carpet and over the walls, beating down on the patrons inside of the church pews. It was the epitome of holiness… and yet, you were nowhere to be found.

Not that they would look for you. You usually only showed up for the morning Sunday classes and then you would leave before service started… well, leave was a strong word. You were still around, but no one could ever find you, so they assumed you were gone. If only someone was hanging around the back parking lot where nobody ever looks, they would see a beat-up old van covered in decal stickers, and the entire vehicle was shaking against the concrete.

Your fingers moved quickly over the screen on your cell phone as you replied to your boyfriend on the other end of the text, biting down on the pillow underneath your chest and trying to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Yeah, tell him how much you love him,” The cruel, sexy voice behind you growled down in your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest as you sobbed into the pillow, strong veiny hands gripping at your ass and leaving clear bruise marks behind on your skin. “Can’t let him know… you’re creaming on my fucking dick, princess…”

“Ahhhh… Abby…” You whined, your back arching a bit more in order to look at the person who belonged to the voice. Hands released your ass before they dropped down on the floor of the van underneath you. Massive, muscular arms caged you down as you felt the tickle of her long blonde braid caress your cheek, her boots digging into the floorboards as she hammers that thick fake cock into your cunt.

It was the same every single Sunday… Abby would show up, you two would sit in class together, and then as soon as it was over, she was dragging you into her van and pushing your skirt up before fucking you senseless. Your boyfriend never came to church with you, so your absence was always excusable. He never even bothered to look to see if you were telling the truth. He trusted you, and that was his mistake.

Dylan was pathetic. He didn’t know how to make you feel wanted like Abby did. He didn’t know what you liked, nor did he take an active interest in the things you loved to do. Abby, on the other hand… Abby was your literal dream. Blonde, tall, built like a work horse, sweet and caring, rough… She was perfect. There was only one problem… Both of your parents were extremely homophobic. Not to mention you were 14 years younger than her.

At 20 years old, Abby was 34 and that was enough for your parents to freak out. You were in your second year of college, and you had been convinced you were straight… right until Abby walked into your life. At first, it was harmless flirting. And then, it quickly went to not flirting. Abby had been the one to make a move first. She pressed you against the bathroom door when she caught you going back to service.

And since that day, your life has never been the same. Your parents loved Dylan, and thought he was a proper gentleman. He went to church with his own family across town, and you went with your parents every single Sunday. Of course, you made up the lie that you would need to work after morning classes on Sunday, which they didn’t like at first but let slide.

It was the perfect guise to get you away from everyone and everything, and to sneak inside of Abby’s van… It was where the sin first began, and now it was where it would never stop.

You never got tired of this. You would always and forever love the feeling of Abby’s strap stretching your velvety walls as she bottomed out inside of you, holding you down like some filthy sex toy that she abused to her heart’s desire. You loved hearing her groan and growl out your name, calling you her little whore, saying how well you are taking her cock like she was made for you… watching you text your boyfriend and mocking you whenever you said you loved him.

“You love him, huh?” Abby breathed down against the back of your neck, moving your hair away from your shoulder and kissing along your skin. “Then why… is he not inside of your fucking pussy, right now?”

You didn’t love him, at all. He became annoying and desperate after 2 weeks and you wanted nothing more than to cut Dylan loose. But your parents adored him, and you kept up the charade just to pretend like you still had a straight bone in your body. When it all came down to it, whenever Abby texted you… you were at her every beckon call. You were hers, through and through. Dylan doesn’t ever come close to Abigail Anderson.

Your soft little cries filled the back of the van as Abby grabbed your wrists, the veins popping in her hands as she held your arms back and began to fuck with more vigor than before, probably fucking the van’s suspension and creating the most vulgar sounds imaginable. How you two were never, ever caught, you would never know.

“Fuck, take it baby,” Abby snarled, watching your ass bounce and jiggle with each snap of her hips against your own. Your moans carried in the small space, feeling like a fucking sauna with how hard you were breathing. Sweat dripped from her brow as she yanked on your arms, making your back arch even more, forcing you to look up at her from behind. “Nnngg, you look so fucking perfect… so fucking pretty, baby…”

“Abby,” You cried out, panting and drooling with each passing second. “Fuckfuckfuuuuck, d-don’t stop… don’t fucking stop—”

“You gonna cum for me, princess?” Abby smirked, reaching down and wrapping both of her massive hands around your neck and pulling you up until your back was pressed against her chest, the fabric of her jeans digging into your thighs and without a doubt going to leave a burn in its wake. “Go on, princess… be a good girl, yeah? Be my good little slut and cream all over my cock.”

You were so fucking close that it hurt! Right on the edge of your climax, so desperate to feel that sweet release and give Abby exactly what she wanted. Very slowly, Abby wrapped her huge forearm around your neck and with one hand, she slid it across the front of your dress, pausing to grip your breast before sliding her hand down the rest of the way and gently rubbing at your throbbing clit. You made a noise that was a cross between a cry and whimper and Abby groaned, deep in her throat.

“Fuck, that’s a pretty noise princess… like it when I rub your clit like that? Huh? Come on, come on! Fucking cum for me!” Her words sent shockwaves all over your body as you began to twitch and jerk in her hold. Abby kept her pace and basked in the sounds you made, watching as your legs wobbled and threatened to give out, forcing her to hold on even tighter and fuck you through your earth-shattering orgasm. “Good girl, good fucking girl, that’s it baby… just like that, yeah just like that…”

You were completely beyond forming coherent sentences, or even making comprehensible sounds as you collapsed against her body, drool dripping down your chin from your lips as a fresh set of tears tracked your face. Abby chuckled sweetly and slowly laid you down on the mass of blankets and pillows she started keeping in the back of her van just for you after events like this take place.

Abby took her time as she pulled her hips back, watching the thick silicone cock slide out of your stretched cunt, chuckling at the white ring around the base from your juices. You wanted to cry, feeling so empty now without her strap taking up your entire being. Abby let the toy flop down against your ass, and then gave your cheeks a rough smack, making your entire body jerk forward at the contact.

“Little slut,” Abby barked, pulling the harness off her hips and reaching down to grab at your hair. You don’t know why you thought she was done… Abby was never done. Of course, you didn’t want to be done. That would mean you two leave your little bubble that you created with her… In here, you were able to pretend that Abby was it. Abby was your everything and you could give up on this stupid ass mistake.

Before you could ask Abby what was next, she was forcing you on your back and unzipping her jeans. You watched her shimmy out of the fabric and made quick work of her boxers before she crouched over your face. If this wasn’t the sight of heaven, church hadn’t done shit for you. You started salivating almost instantly, grabbing at her hips and attempting to pull her down so you could enjoy the feast, but Abby was far too strong for you to control. She chuckled and ran a hand through your hair.

“Easy, princess… I know, you wanna taste this pussy so fucking bad, don’t you?” Abby grabbed your chin with one hand, sliding her thumb across your bottom lip and you sucked the digit into her mouth. Your tongue stroked over her flesh, and you slurped on her thumb, closing your eyes for a brief second and watching her grin before she pulled her hand away from your face, delivering a hard slap across your cheek. “Yeah baby, I know you fuckin’ love that, don’t you?”

Why you enjoyed it when she hit you, you would never truly understand. The stinging sensation left behind after she delivered a soft blow to your face, or your ass, even your cunt, you would be almost purring with desire and arousal. You loved how strong she was and loved it when she showed it without even trying. Abby always held back, never wanting to actually hurt you, but wanting to make you whine.

Without another hit, Abby lowered herself down and grabbed you by your hair once again, clutching your locks and making you gasp. “Open. Tongue out… all the way, princess…”

You opened your mouth up immediately at her command and stuck out your tongue as far as it could humanly go, drooling on your face and watching as she lowered herself down onto your mouth. You were quick to nuzzle your face into her cunt and you began to lick at her almost immediately, holding her by the hips and making the obscenest slurping sounds ever. Abby groaned, her head going back and her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Nnnnn… that’s my good little whore… fuck, no one eats my pussy like you do, sweet thing…” Your heart soared at her praise, paying attention to her clit and using the flat top of your tongue to lap at her like a dog drinking up water. The very thought of someone else having their mouth on her cunt had you moving with desperation. Abby was well aware of your stupid boyfriend, but you didn’t know how many girls she had doing this exact same thing… It turned you fucking feral.

A low moan rumbled out of you, sending vibrations through her clit as you wrapped your lips around the swollen nub and began sucking, hard. Abby bucked her hips against your face, her ass flexing in your hands before she shoved her whole fist against the side of the van. The movement of her body had your teeth scraping against her and she groaned with pleasure.

“Fuck, keep that up baby,” Abby praised, looking down and watching your eyes squinted shut and your brows knitted with what she could only assume was concentration. The noises your mouth created as you slurped, sucked, and drooled on her pussy were beyond vulgar, and if anybody from church could see you now, they would perform an exorcism, assuming you had been possessed by some filthy whore.

Your nails bit into Abby’s skin, creating crescent moon shaped indents in her ass as you released her clit with a wet slurp and scooted down a bit further. Abby rolled her hips forward, watching your eyes as they opened up and then rolled back in your head, almost drowning in her slick cunt. You took your time, mapping her out with your mouth before you gripped her strong, muscly thighs and began to push your tongue inside of her hot cavern. The noise Abby made was the start of a whimper, and then immediately faded into a snarl of aggressive pleasure.

“Fuck, princess… fuck, you dirty little slut… God you feel so fucking good on my pussy, sweet girl…” You practically cry with her praise, leaning into her hand as you thrust your tongue in and out of her, licking her spongey inner walls and feeling her practically bounce on your face as she humped your face.

You didn’t give a shit about anything else, and all that was on your mind was feeling Abby cum on your mouth. Your phone was lighting up, and Abby could see the countless texts from Dylan, and she had to resist everything inside of her to not pick up your phone to record you eating her out.

“You love the taste of my cunt, don’t you baby?” Abby moaned out, nails scratching across your scalp and making you whimper on her pussy. She rolled her hips slowly, grinding her clit against your nose and biting down on her bottom lip to try and keep her composure… But fuck, did you make it difficult…

Abby could feel her orgasm creeping up on her as she rode your face, tugging on your hair and shivering with pleasure that simply coursed over her entire body. And even though you were the one drinking her cunt, she was the one that felt like she was drowning. Her eyes rolled back, swear words tumbling from her mouth and filling the van that was one good thrust away from losing a damn wheel.

“Fuck, ngh, fuck… Fuck, go back, baby… Lick my clit just like before—” You immediately did as she told you, and Abby huffed with pleasure. “Just like that… shit, just like that babygirl… just… fucking leave him, baby… leave his stupid ass and be mine.”

You heard what she said, but it didn’t register… You kept licking at her clit and sucked on it every few seconds before flicking it hard with the tip of your tongue, sending her crashing into the most vulgar climax of her entire life. She chanted countless swear words over and over again as she chased her high against your face, coming closer and closer to falling apart on top of you.

Abby tossed her body forward and squeezed your face with her inner thighs, smushing your cheeks together before she bit her lip and tried to hold in her sounds but it became fucking impossible with you. “Fuck! Fuck! Don’t you fucking dare stop! Don’t. Fucking. Stop! C-Cumming… fuuuuck, m’cumming baby!”

Abby sounded so fucking wild whenever she would climax, and it made you horny all over again. Her hips twitched and pushed down into your face and you opened your mouth wide, lapping at her liquids that drooled out of her and onto your tongue. Her taste was fucking addictive, and she had to literally pry your hands off her legs in order to pull her pussy away from your mouth.

Your face was soaked from the bridge of your nose down to your chin, glistening with her arousal. You licked your lips and reached up to grab her by the front of her shirt and yanked her down, pressing your lips against hers. Abby groaned on your mouth and pushed her tongue in, drinking in her taste on your mouth and basking in everything that was you.

Another thing she had that Dylan sure fucking didn’t… her lips were so fucking soft and she tasted so, so good…

Both of you never addressed what she said, and when you stumbled out of her van and through the backdoor of the church to clean yourself up in the bathroom, you could hardly keep your knees from wobbling. Bruises were forming on your ass in the shape of her hands, and you rubbed your fingers across the marks, blushing at just remembering who gave them to you…

Abby found your panties in her front pocket when she got home, and she couldn’t stop from smelling them. Fuck, you smelled so fucking pretty; she’s never wanted someone more in her entire life than she wants you all of the damn time.

Even during the week, she was on your mind. You couldn’t shake her off. Abby was like a leech that you grew attached to and now its simply just apart of you. She fed off you, and you liked it that way. Abby liked playing your secret lover, but she would much rather be your one and only.

Fear of disownment had you paralyzed. You wanted nothing more than to tell your parents that you were happy, but with a woman. Abby was everything you could ever need…

“Fuck… Abby… Abby, ohmygod, Abby…” Your whimper echoed through the empty house, your parents gone for the afternoon. You were quick to invite Abby over, and she had you laying down on your bed in literal seconds, legs spread and tongue lapping at your pussy faster than you expected a human being to be able to lick.

The sounds of her eating your pussy echoed off the walls of your bedroom, your hands fisted in her long blonde hair that fell down her shoulders in soft waves due to always being in a braid. You loved her hair, and Abby loved it when you pulled on it, her eyes rolling back as she slobbered all over your cunt in the most explicit, wet, messy display ever.

Abby ate pussy like a woman starved! All tongue and lips, slurping and drooling, creating the biggest wet spot on your sheets and squeezing your thighs with her huge hands. You loved how messy she got, watching as she pulled back with her tongue hanging down, a thick string of saliva connecting her mouth to your pussy. She smirks, reaching down with one hand to slap your clit before she dives back down and immediately starts licking you without a care in the world.

You chanted her name, each time growing louder and louder. You always got so close so fast when Abby was eating you out… You were so close…

The sound of your phone ringing had you tensing up and Abby simply glanced up from your cunt, not stopping her movements even a little. Your hands shakingly grabbed at the phone, seeing Dylan’s picture appear on the screen. Your heart began to beat faster, gently swatting at Abby’s head.

“F-fuck, fuck, stop, wait,” You begged, watching her roll her eyes before she pulled back, rubbing her face against the inside of your thigh and watching how shaky your hands were when you answered the phone with a forced neutral expression. Of course, your flushed face was a dead giveaway to anyone else.

“H-Hey, baby, what’s up?” You said breathlessly. Abby rolled her eyes, kissing up and down your thighs as your boyfriend spoke on the other end of the phone. A hearty giggle erupted from your throat, and you responded. “N-No, I’m fine! Just uh… went for a run! Yeah, that’s all, don’t worry…”

Your face immediately brightened, and you looked down to see Abby slowly rubbing at your entire pussy with her hand, biting your inner thigh and basking in the expression you had on your face. You fell back on the bed and huffed, trying not to moan into the receiver as you listened to Dylan.

“To…Tonight? I-I-I’m not… not sure about that baby… I have a… fuck, assignment due… t-tomorrow,” You struggled to keep your noises neutral, biting down on your knuckle as Abby began to slowly ease her middle and ring finger inside of you. You bit down so hard that you left a bruise behind on your finger. “N-No! Y-You don’t h…have to come over… m’fine… t-totally fine…”

Abby was having none of your shit, and before you could prepare yourself, she grabbed your hip and slammed herself knuckle deep into your pussy. The sound you made was so loud that she was sure EUROPE heard you! Your eyes crossed in your head, and you yanked on the bed sheets above your head, completely abandoning your phone call for a second. Dylan asked you what happened, and you were quick to cover it up. “I’m okay! I’m o-okay, baby… j..just hit my arm, t-that’s all… fuck me…”

With a smirk, Abby immediately complied, spreading your legs a bit wider before she began to fuck you on her fingers like it was her damn birthright. Her digits were so thick and strong, hitting every single sweet spot inside of you and making you purr like a kitten for her. Pleasure raced down your spine and you whimpered into your hand, masking your noises as Dylan continued to say whatever the fuck he was saying, you weren’t listening.

“Fucking give me that,” Abby snapped, reaching for the phone and hanging up on him. Your eyes widened and you reached for the phone, but Abby tossed it to the far side of the bed before wrapping a hand around your neck and shoving you into the bed. Her pace picked up to brutal levels and you gasped against her movements. “I’m done, princess… Fucking done sharing you with him.”

“A-Abby, you… fuck…” The look in her eyes was wild as she pushed in a third finger and you reached out to grab the muscle on her shoulders, her hair creating a curtain around your face as she destroyed you.

“Say it,” Abby snarled. “Fucking leave him. You’re mine. You’re mine… you’re fucking mine!”

“Yours!” You cried out, rolling your whole body up against hers and digging your nails into her back. Abby bent down and began to kiss your face, trailing them down to your neck and latching her lips against the flesh of your throat. You groaned as she stretched out your pussy and left an absurd amount of hickies on your neck.

“No one… can fuck you like I do,” Abby rubbed your clit with her thumb as her fingers stroked your inner walls, making you see stars behind your eyes. “No one can kiss you like I do… no one can love you like I do…”

“Yours, Abby,” You whimpered, pushing your face into her neck, grinding down against her hand as you chased your orgasm on her thick digits, desperate to cum for her, and for her alone. “I’m yours… Only you… please, don’t stop! Please, so close…”

“Come on princess… my pretty girl, fucking cum for me…”

And you did exactly that. Your whole body shook with euphoria, and you raked your nails down her back, nearly drawing blood as you reached your high and squeezed around her fingers, liquid slowly gushing from your cunt and drenching her hands. Abby kissed your neck, and then your lips, tears tracking her face.

Finally… she finally had you…

It was made official with one text.

Dylan almost had a fucking heart attack at the photo an unknown number sent him. It was you, sprawled out on the bed, covered in hickies from your neck down to your chest, drool dripping from your lips with one very veiny hand and massive forearm holding you by the throat. You had a stupidly happy grin on your face and your cheeks were tinted with a deep pink blush from either overexertion or embarrassment. And on your stomach, there was something literally carved into your flesh, blood dripping from the fresh wound… it was an A.

There was only one block of text to accompany the picture.

She’s mine now, asshole.

#lgbt #lgbtq #the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #tlou2 #tlou smut #scotty doesnt know #x reader smut #song fic #nsft

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