#women fridging women = NOT ON MY WATCH
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shsl-analyzer-guy · 5 months ago
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Gonna be making my friends play V3 soon.... They're gonna fucking hate Shuichi I can feel it in my soul
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myapathyhaspeaked · 7 months ago
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man some gender roles are just self fulfilling prophesies arent they?
(i am a white afab in america and can only speak for this perspective)
oh women are just naturally suited to domestic labor? guess we'll make our daughters cook and clean and take care of their little sisters while our sons take out the trash every once in a while. well wontcha look at that, the girls are so talented with the windex while our boys can barely remember to clean out the dryer lint. see ladies, this is why you ought to stay home and let the men work.
oh little girls are so much work, so demanding, just wait til their teenage years, i mean the rebellion and the boys! little boys are so much more easy going, even if they take a while to mature. and gosh, look at suzy, crying that she wants this dress and that toy because she's a child and doesnt know what money is yet, see she's such a brat, just keep telling her no and she'll learn to never ask for anything. oh timmy wants this bike? sure timmy, no need to cry, we'll take that dent in the budget, look how happy he is on it. emma don't get mad when your brothers bug you, they're not as mature as you. why dont you ever talk to us? why dont you respect us? what do you mean he harrassed a girl at school cus we never reprimanded him for breaking boundries and called him our handsome ladies man his whole life? no honey you cant have a boyfriend. sure son, go get her, oh look we placed him next to another baby but shes a girl look at them his little girlfriend. what do you mean youve been dating him in secret? wow, she's so timid and meek, never talks, so ladylike. and gosh he's so rambuctious, almost like he's never heard of a consequence.
oh little girls shouldnt play with science kits and medical toys, what little girls want to be scientists and doctors? boys dont want to play with dolls, give him an action figure or a toy car, and dont even let him look at pink. and wow, what do we see here? a huge imbalance in stem fields, the medical world, mechanics, and nerd culture. and men who will go up to the cashier and ask if there is "boy peptol bismol" because he doesnt want something pink.
girls care so much about their image, wonder if that has anything to do with mommy playing dress up with them and brushing their hair even when it hurts, screaming at them if they pull away cus they wont their little girl go out looking like a birds nest, and that society has deemed their looks as half of their value? boys are so into sports, wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that dad impressed his son into the little league team cus he used to be such a slugger it's in his blood, and that his dad always had his buddies come over and watch the game while mom brings him another beer?
time is a flat circle and society is an ouroboros that ceases to exist if the snake ever spits its own tail out.
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boneless-mika · 1 year ago
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I have concluded that the video essay space is in fact lacking in Usopp content. There is basically just one discussing what I want to talk about and it's by a channel that's literally only done One Piece videos the last year and based on the chapter titles it's not exactly what I want to talk about
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votum-cordis · 2 days ago
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you think your life is hard???? Imagine being a blue haired lesbian named caitlyn
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dullahandyke · 8 months ago
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thinking about akudrive and feminism which is a thinly-veiled way of saying im thikning about doctor
#what a fucking character i love her#like. the majority of the akudama are men. only two in the initial seven r women#but theyre WICKED IMPORTANT#there r some akudrive characters u could cut without losing too much as long as u worked around it (namely brawler hacker n cutthroat)#but swindler is obvi pulling main character duty and doctor is RLLY important#aside from the executioners she's the biggest antagonist and even just the way she causes conflict via questioning brother does a lot#like i feel like active vs passive choices are a big thing in akudrive and doctor is hella active#plus just her character more generally! shes weirdly mean shes full of herself she has a complex!#i'm 90% sure shes a canon trans woman in the manga yet she's constantly making weird anti-sjw remarks#(calling courier gay for not wanting to grope her; the whole feminism thing in ep 4; all her remarks abt brawler)#doctor ily girl. women are allowed to be mad scientists with god complexes its fine <3#like akudrive Does have more men than it does women (albeit not as bad a ratio as you see a lot of places its like. 5-8)#but the women r all focused on and good characters and the men r the ones more likely to be bit pieces!#like obvi 'good character' is subjective but like. the woman with the least focus is boss who is! still! interesting!#idk maybe im sheltered and 'the women are good characters and none are fridged and they are the focus' isnt like. revolutionary#but its just like. nice to see! like pupil and boss and doctor are all interesting and swindler + sister get to bond#and swindler in general is my utter beloved#so like. yeah. watch akudrive. it is fucking stupid as hell and u kinda just gotta let the worldbuilding glaze over you#because midway thru an episode theyll go 'btw the moons been blown to pieces and the thing in the sky is a projection'#and then theyll just move on#but its rlly good. watch itttt#(main tws are like. gore thats censored in most vers. attempted SA. biiig themes of police brutality. the black guy is written badly)#watch itt
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boygirlctommy · 10 months ago
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watching ark: tas and <3 the animation is so bad even my dad can tell
#my post#i am. what#what. what. what.#who made this. who let this happen.#i know nothnig about the game idc about the game. one why do the people look like that two why do the people move like that#this show drew me in and LIED to me the animation in the trailer i saw was beautiful and not the stilted oddness that is the actual show.#AND WHY DO THE MAIN CHARACTER AND HER FRIDGED WIFE HAVE THE SAME EXACT BODY.#its not even an issue where every single woman has the same model!!! because there are other women and they look DIFFERENT#not hugely so but!! the only difference between helena and victoria are their hair and eyebrows and the colors.#they are the same height the same build the same face shape the same nose#i thought they were sisters or cousins at first..#also why was the inside of the evil roman guys tent ORANGE who looked at this and went you know whats an intimidating and roman color.#ORANGE. GIRL WHAT?#AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE VOICE ACTING??? its like entirely a celebrity cast#why is gerard butler driving the bus all of a sudden#i knew it was celebrities before going in but im still disappointed and sad. they sound really bad.#and the lipsync is almost always off by like half a second#and the faces show little to no emotion#sorry um um um im just. im having so much fun watching this show aha.#the show feels like a videogame. i was talking about it to my brother and he said ark doesnt have a plot its like rust and minecraft but if#there were dinosaurs. ok. sure#why is this WRITTEN like a videogame though like it FEELS like im watching a letsplay or one of those edited together videogame movies#this feels like when i watched sonic adventure 2 but sonic adventure 2 looked better
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sooniebby · 1 year ago
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ఌ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
w.c. › 3.8k
Plot › you end up winning a call to a camboy/sex worker, you watch a lot!! Though it’s a bit embarrassing learning you’re one of the few men in his usual audience. Based off this.
Warnings › gojo a bit cocky sometimes—this takes place in a normal world. Reader is 19, gojo is 25. Some… straight stuff mentioned cuz gojo fucks a girl during his streams, bi gojo agenda!!
Kinks › praise, size kink, (attempts at) dirty talk…
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
: ̗̀➛
𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜
𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙤 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝
𝗦𝗶𝘅𝗲𝘆𝗲!
↳ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ
: ̗̀➛
No way. You just gasped in your coffee shop, literally as your coworker was calling for you to serve a cake to someone.
You were never a lucky person. Most and every thing you ever entered in a prize to win something, being money or an item, you never won. Never, not once. You had assumed you just was an unlucky guy in those type of things.
So when you applied for the giveaway for the chat, you did it just cause.
And you won!
You fucking won.
“(Name) if you don’t hurry up and serve this poor lady her cake!” Your coworker, Nobara screamed.
You rushed out with the cake and quickly gave the girl it, ignoring the glare she gave you for being so rushed. That didn’t matter! You had to tell Nobara. You practically sprinted to her and dragged her to the employee lounge.
“What is your problem?” She asked, pulling her arm away from your tight grip. “It’s like you were trying to rip my arm off…”
“Look, look!” You shoved your phone in her face, earning a tight glare as she snatched it out of your hands. Her eyes glanced over the screen as she mumbled to herself, reading the message. It took about thirty seconds before she seemed to understand what the fuck she was reading.
“Seriously? You got a free call with your favorite pornstar?” She placed your phone on the countertop and shuffled over to the fridge.
“You don’t understand! I hardly ever win giveaways!”
Nobara glanced back at you. “Okay, same here. Are you alright, (Name)? Are the toys not enough?” She asked with a fake sense of pity.
You glared at her. “The toys are just fine!”
“Sure, sure. Well, what do you get from the win?”
“Uh, a free thirty minute private chat.”
“She’s also a camgirl?”
“No… it’s a camboy.”
Nobara blinked. “Oh. So it’s a gay camboy.”
“Also.. no… he’s only fucked women on the videos he posted on Twitter..”
Nobara sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Let’s hope he’s not going to be upset a dude just won his giveaway.”
You panicked slightly, “wait, you think he’ll be upset?”
“Maybe not. But if I were you, I’d make sure to not show my face on camera or speak on the mic.” She said, patting you on the back before leaving the lounge.
Any sort of happiness basically dwindled. She was right. You didn’t know this guy and while realistically, he can’t do anything to hurt you… He could end up getting angry and disgusted you won his call when the majority of his fan base has always been women.
Reaching over, you grabbed your phone and looked at the email, wondering if it’d be worth it. Just as you were about to email back that you couldn’t do it—you got a text message on your Twitter.
𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 :
↳ Did you get the email?
You fainted.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“You boys are so overdramatic.”
You can hear Nobara judging you. You feel the soft winds of someone fanning you, your head resting gently on their legs. With hesitance, you open your eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights blinding you.
Oh, it’s just Inumaki and Megumi.
Inumaki was the one holding your head on his lap while Megumi lazily fanned you with a makeshift paper fan. Megumi rolled his eyes once he noticed you were awake, moving to get up from the floor.
“Good?” Megumi asked, holding his hand out as he helped you get up.
‘We found you on the floor,’ Inumaki signed, getting up as well. ‘What happened?’
You pursed your lips, unsure if you wanted to tell them that you got shocked that a pornstar you’ve been following for over a year now messaged you. Nobara was heard stifling with laughter in the corner.
You quickly, and messily, signed that you were fine back to Inumaki. “Uh, just felt lightheaded. Y’know how the AC isn’t working well anymore.”
“Like those toys.” Nobara suddenly said.
‘Toys?’ Inumaki signed.
“You know what I mean, that emo boy of yours must use them too,” she said, ignoring the sudden blush on Inumkai’s face. Megumi groaned and moved to get his apron to begin his shift.
“Shut it, Nobara.” You whispered, glaring at her. She simply shrugged, smirking gleefully at the embarrassment she was bringing to you. You slipped out of your apron and placed it back, grabbing your bag as you began to clock out.
Inumaki and Megumi usually took over once you and Nobara were finished.
As you and Nobara left the cafe, she grinned mischievously at you. You looked straight ahead, not wanting to entertain her teasing.
“So, it couldn’t have been the email that you made you pass out like that. What was it?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullcrap!”
With a swiftness, your phone in your back pocket was gone. She easily dodged you as she began checking your phone, trying to see what had caused your fainting spell. Once she checked your notifications, she barked out a laugh.
“Oh he practically wants you! ‘Did you get the email?’ So desperate already,” she snickered, beginning to type something on your phone.
“Nobara?!”
After hitting send, she pushed your phone to your face, showing what she had just sent him.
𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚
↳ yes!!! <333
↳ Sorry, I was just so shocked I won!!!
What time are you thinking about?
“Mooniebunnie? What type of username…”
“I made it when I was like fourteen! Don’t judge.”
“Jeez, you’ve been on Twitter that long?”
“Nobara!!”
“Oh he responded.”
“Hah?!”
𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚
↳ took you long enough.
↳ Saturday, 9 pm. I’ll only wait 5 minutes
↳ after the 30 minutes, you’re paying.
“Dick. The fucks his problem?”
“What’d he say?”
“You’d think he’s the one taking the dick up his ass.”
“Nobara..!”
“What? You can’t tell me this doesn’t come across as rude?”
She began typing for you again.
𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚
↳ just don’t disappoint me, 4 inch
↳ kisses <3
“Nobara?! What the hell?!”
“Hey, he started it. Anyway, your date is in two days. Good thing you don’t have a roommate anymore.”
You glared at her as she handed you back your phone. He didn’t seem to text back after that—only having a note that he certainly did read Nobara’s text. But to him, it was your text.
Gosh, you really didn’t want him to hate you.
But Nobara was right, he did seem a bit rude over text. Maybe he just texts a bit harsh but in person is nice.
Though it honestly felt you were creating excuses in your head at this point.
After splitting ways, you made it home to your small apartment. It was comfortable enough so you didn’t complain. Especially since it was in a good area. Nobara and her roommate, Maki, weren’t so lucky in the area they lived in.
Though it seemed like the burglaries that were happening there had finally slowed down.
Decorated in second hand items and anything you stole from your ex boyfriend and mother, your apartment was homey enough. The good thing was that you got an amazing view of the sunset in your room every afternoon.
The kitchen, dining, and living room was essentially just one full room. You had a foldable table to bring out whenever you ate dinner. Your tv was taken from your ex boyfriend, which was why it was so brand new compared to everything else.
You only have two other rooms. The master bedroom with an attached bathroom, and a small, small bedroom. You practically just made it an extra closet space because it was just too cramped to be in there for long period of times.
Especially with the fact it only had a small tiny square window all the way close to the ceiling.
It was after 8 p.m. when you plopped down onto your bed, finishing your daily home tasks. Washing the dishes, warming up dinner, watching a BL drama while crying in loneliness, and now—masturbation time.
You scrolled your phone, wondering if you should wank it out to some random twitter videos or go to the cam website.
Just as you were about to pull up your list of comfort gay videos, a notification rang on your phone.
𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 ➤ ❝a creamy fill❞
Your fingers moved lightning speed. A bit embarrassing, really. Slipping off your boxers, you reached over and grabbed your lube, squirting a good amount on your fingers.
Despite him constantly fucking girls—you always watched. Something about him was captivating, even though you never saw his face. The girls face was almost always shown. But like always, the comments are filled with girls saying they love him.
The video started out with the girl in his lap, withering as his fingers spread her pussy open, his other hand resting comfortably on her throat. The only sliver of emotion you could see from him, was the small angle of his lips in frame.
Like always, he was smirking.
You never really enjoyed the beginning of his videos, since it focused heavily on getting the girl to cum from oral sex. Which was good for the girls—but not for you.
So, you usually focused on getting yourself ready for your dildo.
It was one you bought on a whim. But you had never meant for it to be so large, a length of seven, more so eight, inches. You would’ve thrown the thing out if it wasn’t the only dildo you had.
And there was no way you were going to go back to that sex store and get a new one.
You tuned them out for a few minutes, focusing on stretching yourself. It was always tedious, wishing it was someone else doing it for you. Just as you felt ready enough for your dildo, you finally glanced back at your phone.
The girl was now screaming, in pleasure, as he slammed his hips against her ass. It harsh and unforgiving—leaving the girl no chance to stay still. They were in a doggy style position, her face right up to the camera as she mewled and cried.
His grip was on her waist, pulling her back whenever she tried to pull away a bit in a way to slow it down.
“That’s a good girl.”
Boner gone.
You groaned. You loved hearing his voice, he sounded hot. But you hated it whenever he used that fucking word. Any type of “girl” or even more feminine terms always made you lose your boner.
There was nothing else you could really do at that point.
That’s why you mainly watched his solo streams.
With a huff, you placed your dildo back in its drawer and turned off your phone just as the girl reached her climax.
This guy was obviously straight…
You were really wondering if it’d be worth it.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Ready for your big day, (Name)?”
‘What big day?’
You quickly glared at Nobara, hoping she wouldn’t tell Inumaki anything. Inumaki looked a bit confused—mostly in why you were so angry.
Isn’t today supposed to be special?
“Oh, nothing. It’s just… Saturday, who doesn’t love a Saturday?”
Inumaki raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s a normal Saturday.’
“Mhm, not for our (L.Name) (Name) here.” She winked, obviously enjoying the flushed look on your face.
The entire shift was spent with Nobara making innuendos and Inumaki looking confused by the minute. It wasn’t until your shift was over, and Megumi and Itadori came, that Nobara seemed to just blurt it out to Inumaki.
“He won a call with his favorite pornstar!”
‘You have a favorite pornstar..?’
“Nobara!” You screamed, slapping your hand against her lips as she stared at you in triumph.
Looking back at Inumaki who didn’t seem to be judging you, just a bit perplexed. Which isn’t shocking. He has a fucking boyfriend—you doubted he needed to watch pornstars religiously to get his socks off.
You shrieked as Nobara licked your hand, forcing you to pull away and quickly wipe them off on your pants.
“Yeah! That’s what I said! Who has a favorite pornstar?!”
“Shut it!!”
Inumaki gave you a shrug, ‘no need to be embarrassed. We all have weird habits.’
Somehow that felt less comforting.
You signed back a thanks to Inumaki before turning your anger to Nobara. She willfully began whistling as she walked down the street, not paying you any mind.
In all honesty, you just hoped the call wouldn’t end up with you in tears.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
𝙎𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙮𝙚
↳ here’s the link.
↳ join in twenty minutes
Dick.
Nobara was right. With a huff, you set your busted laptop on the bed in front of you. It was a miracle this laptop could even come to life. As you were deep in thought, wondering if you were feeling brave enough to really join, you heard the sound of a ping.
It took a moment, but then you accepted the link, joining a private call with Sixeye.
It was his usual set up for his live streams. The sight of a wall decorated with bookshelves. You always just assumed it was an office room he had. He was dressed in a compression shirt and grey sweatpants.
Huh, he usually dressed nice for his cams because his fan girls loved seeing him in suits.
Something something daddy issues.
Guess you weren’t special enough for that.
“Guess you aren’t putting on your camera?”
You quickly typed a simple no. No way in hell were you showing this guy your face—no matter how many times you had cummed to his videos. A simple chuckle was heard. His camera was pointed solely at his chest and bottom half, his face no where in sight.
Which was natural, the most he ever showed was his lips.
Girls just went wild for a cool smirk or something.
“No requests? Usually you girls are quick to give me a whole script.” His laugh filled the room.
↳ Just act natural
You type, hoping that was enough to make him get straight into it. He was quiet for a moment, as if he was reading your text. It seemed he took your words to heart as he pulled down his sweatpants and his cock plopped out, resting against his stomach.
“Alright, just want a quick fap then.”
He reached down and rubbed his tip, teasing the slit as he slowly began jacking himself off. His cock was large, maybe around seven inches? It was similar to your dildo. His hands were big too. Gosh, everything about him was big.
He was definitely the one who helped you figure out your size kink.
The only sound by now was his soft grunts and his hand jerking off his cock. You slipped off your boxers and easily slipped in three fingers inside of yourself, having stretched it out a bit earlier. Now, you were just trying to get yourself excited.
You reached down to your laptop, moving it a bit further so you could get comfortable on the bed with more leg room. Your fingers rubbed against your prostate, teasing it just the way you wanted.
Your moans were always on the more high pitched side, almost sounding similar to a girl when you reached your orgasm. So it was something you were a bit self conscious of. But being alone in your own home, you didn’t hold back.
Rubbing against your prostate, your toes curled as you whimpered and bucked into your own hand. You tried to push back any feeling of disappointment that it wasn’t someone else making you feel this way.
“Changed your…mind, baby?”
“Ngh..?”
You opened your eyes and glanced back down at your laptop.
Oh god.
Your fucking mic was on!!!!
You screamed out, quickly clasping your mouth shut as you stared at the screen in horror. He heard you. He heard every little gasp and whimper you had made. How long had he heard you?
Why didn’t he fucking say anything?
“Screamer, huh? Noted.”
He teased. Even without seeing his face, you knew he was smirking.
“You….why didn’t you tell me?” You muttered, glaring at the screen.
But he didn’t answer. He seemed quiet for a moment. You watched as his hand stuttered on his cock. What? Did your voice sound that terrible?
“Speak.”
“Wha..?” You whispered, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Speak now. Loud and clear.”
You hated how authoritative he sounded. It felt like you couldn’t just no respond to his command.
“Uhm… why didn’t you tell me…?” You spoke louder, allowing your mic to pick up your voice this time. You thought maybe he just didn’t hear you.
“Shit. You’re a guy?”
With a brave face, you huffed. “Judging me?”
“No. Fucking finally.”
You felt yourself blush. He was… excited? He began stroking his cock again but this time, with more vulgarity. It was like he was actually turned on by you. You felt your own cock twitch.
Someone… interested… in you?
You grabbed your dildo that rested beside you on the bed, rubbing it against your hole. Any sort of self consciousness you felt with your moaning was thrown out the window as you didn’t hold anything back. Fuck it if you regretted it later.
Right now, you’re going to enjoy it.
As your dildo began stretching you full, you glanced at the button that would turn your camera on. This was a one time thing…
He’d never see you again…
Fuck it.
“Well aren’t you adorable..? Fuck, how big is it?”
“Seven… inches.” You whispered, feeling embarrassed about showing yourself. Your sweating body, flushed face, watery eyes, and your cock leaking on your tummy. You were glad you didn’t see his face…
So you didn’t have to know if he actually found you cute.
“Always the cute ones.” His laugh sounded strained, a soft huff following it as he continued teasing his tip. “Like it big, huh? Stretching you until you can’t take it anymore.”
“Didn’t.. mean to… get it so big.” You moaned, slowly teasing the dildo inside. Your camera was angled right between your legs, showing him the entire picture of the dildo slowly inching inside your puckered hole.
You arched your back, gasping once it finally reached its hilt, stuffing you full.
“Keep looking at the camera.”
You hadn’t even noticed you couldn’t be seen anymore. Moving around a bit, your face finally showed back on the camera. And you got a good sight of just how fucked out you looked just from a damn dildo.
“Good boy.” He whispered. “Y’know… I always put on a show for you guys—it’s time you do the same, hm?”
If you weren’t already itching for an orgasm, you would’ve ended the call immediately out of embarrassment. But you couldn’t back down now.
So, you moved to rest against your headboard, bringing in your laptop to get a good view of your face and ass. Tightening your grip on your dildo, you began thrusting it in and out, keeping a fast pace.
Your hips moved against the pace, your thoughts filled with the desire of a real cock fucking you. His hand gripping your waist, bouncing you on his cock like a toy just for his pleasure. But you had to deal with this pisspoor dildo.
The sound of squelching, your moans, and his grunts filled the room. You were so close, wishing to moan his name but no way in hell were you going to moan his fucking username.
“W…wan..na…moan..name..” you barely sputtered out, your moans betraying you whenever you tried to speak a full sentence. A cry left your throat when the dildo brushed against your prostate. You quickly made sure to continuously hit that area, your moans reaching higher in pitch.
Your orgasm was close.
You suddenly heard him grunt loudly. When you glanced at the camera, you saw his grip tighten as cum spurted onto his shirt. Did your moans…?
Not wanting to feel any misplaced confidence, you pushed the thought away. No way did your moans make him cum.
The sound of shuffling caught your attention as you saw him reach for his camera.
And then—
The camera was on his fucking face.
His lips turned up into a smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours. Blue eyes and white hair. It looked soft even though the camera.
You came.
You fucking came.
Man, maybe those girls were right about smirks being sexy…
Your toes curled as you arched your back, gripping the bedsheets as your cock came all over your stomach. The only sound left was the sound of your heavy breathing as you tried to calm down—having never orgasmed that intensely before.
“Did you… cum from seeing my face?”
He sounded so fucking cocky.
“Bye!” You yelled, slamming your laptop shut.
You totally did.
You sat in your room for about two minutes before screaming in embarrassment. No way in hell could you ever watch his streams again!!! You came!! You came from seeing his face!!
God….
That was embarrassing…
At least you would never interact with him again.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“No way! From his face?!”
Nobara screamed laughing, her cackling echoing in the empty cafe. You could only focus on putting the cakes on display, trying to ignore the embarrassment in your heart.
“Gosh! Megumi! You heard about—”
“Don’t bring me into this.” He answered bluntly.
It had been a few days now since the… incident. You had blocked Sixeye’s account and haven’t watched any of his streams or videos ever since. It was just too embarrassing to watch them without thinking on how you came just from seeing his face.
But you kept thinking, why did he show his face?
It wasn’t like you were anything special. As the three of you continued getting the cafe ready for opening, Nobara continued making fun of you at any given chance. Megumi seemed to be in his own mind.
You had went to the back to grab some cups for the lattes and when you came back to the front, Megumi and Nobara were already speaking to some guy. He looked pretty tall, practically towering over Nobara.
But his back was facing you so you didn’t know who it was.
“Why are you even here?” Megumi asked, glaring at the stranger.
“Oh! Aren’t you Megumi’s friend?” Nobara questioned.
“Don’t insult me like that,” Megumi rolled his eyes before grunting as the stranger wrapped his arm around his neck.
“Aah~ Megumi~~ don’t be like that! I heard the cakes here were good. Can’t I try them??? Hm~?” The stranger teased, laughing slightly.
“Get off, you’re not getting a discount.”
“I didn’t say I wanted one… but now that you mentioned it~”
Nobara laughed, “no wonder you called him a blue eyed freak! He’s so annoying.”
“Megumi?!”
Megumi shrugged. “I’ve called you worse in my head. (Name), take Gojo’s order before I kick him out.”
Gojo huffed before finally turning over to face you. Your eyes widened once you finally got a good look of him. It…
Sixeye?!
The cup you were holding were slipping out of your hands as Gojo tilted his head, eyes narrowing at your face before widening in recognition. A grin appeared on his lips.
“Today’s my lucky day, huh?”
It definitely wasn’t yours.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Oop? Yall want a part 2? It’s so hard writing phone/facetime sex… I praise those who write it constantly lmao
Tag list: @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @remdayz @tehyunnie @flurrina @rhetorical-conscience @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @love-kha1 @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @the-ultimate-librarian @teyvat-writer
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honeybubblebeeeeee · 1 year ago
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Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader
Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today
CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??
Idk this was a random thought and now its here
REQUESTS OPEN!
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Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.
And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.
Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.
You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.
You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.
You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.
He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.
You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.
You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"
You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.
Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"
You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."
Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"
You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."
Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"
"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.
Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.
Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?
It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.
You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.
You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.
You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.
"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.
You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.
"Oh... sorry... I just..."
He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.
Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."
His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.
Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."
Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.
Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.
You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."
He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"
His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.
Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.
"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.
I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."
Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."
You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."
Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"
Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."
Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.
You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."
Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."
He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"
You turned to look at him. "What's up?"
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."
You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."
He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.
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thecoochiefairy · 25 days ago
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bloodhound. toji.
𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 15.9K word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, mafiagangmember!toji , violence, dominant!toji, sweet!toji, aggressive!toji, sensual sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!
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━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this idea came at a random, kinda just for fun. loved it at first, started hating it as i wrote it? was committed to finish. idk. ugh. however, it was inspired by ‘the yakuza wife’ anime. anyways, a lot happened in the real world, sorry y’all. i love you. just enjoy. visuals.
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EYES. THEY WERE ALWAYS RECEIVED TO HER BY THE STARE OF OTHER PEOPLE. It was common at this point, so much that it didn’t even offend her—But it should’ve.
 Instead, she brought her focus upon the dimly lit lanterns that lead to the end of the market, needing to make it back to Tokyo before dark. Chocolate brown panels above to protect the stores from rain, cherry blossoms sprouting along the poles as she passed by, watching as the bars and restaurants began to pack like sardines within a can. 
Back to the staring, she counted about three people today. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just didn’t make sense to her—she’d been in Japan all her life, and she still felt like an outsider. She didn’t have fair skin, silky hair, or a petite frame. She was different, but he always reminded her there was beauty in being like no other. 
She’d make sure to grab a small carton of rouge strawberries, her favorite fruit at any time of day. Number four, the man at the counter gives her a strange look as she walks around the store, before suppressing his peculiar stare, replacing it with a respectful smile as she hands him 10,000 yen.
It was a silent two hour ride back home—she knew she was going to get chastised, especially being without protection. The familiar walkway of succulents swayed with the wind as she followed a pathway, now standing in front of the barrier that separated her from the machiya���or house— as he’d taught her to say. She glances up at the camera that tries to hide at the top of the gate, also looking down through the bars as she can see one of the guards pointing a gun directly at her. The groceries become heavier.
She sighs, “Are you gonna let me in, or shoot me?” 
When the guard recognizes the familiar voice, he lowers his gun at the same time he bows, constantly repeating, “Sumimasen,” as the top of the gate unlocks.
She gives a polite wave to the older women dressed in their housekeeping attire. She hears one of them call to help her with the groceries, to which she always waved off. Making her way inside, she quickly dropped the groceries in the kitchen, beginning to pull the items out of the bag as she could instantly feel someone behind her. She doesn’t have to look back, knowing it’s the man that’s assigned to follow her everywhere she goes. 
She exhales, “You don’t have to hide in the corner, Kenji. Is my grandfather awake?”
Kenji, a tall and muscular man, emerges from the shadows and makes his way into the kitchen. He stands by the fridge, hands behind his back. 
"No ma’am, he is still asleep," Kenji replies, his voice low and authoritative. He watches as she unpacks the groceries, his gaze unwavering. 
"You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.”
“Would you have taken me down to Kyoto if I asked?” She raises an eyebrow, knowing the answer to that, “I needed fresh fruit. You would’ve gone out and got it yourself.” 
Kenji was an older, extremely serious man. Barely could get a laugh, smile, even the twitch of his pale face. He’d been the guardian of their family for years, but even he had his stresses when it came to her.
“That doesn’t mean you should leave the estate without me,” he replies stiffly, “You could’ve woken me up and I would’ve taken you.”  
“I made it back safely,” she counters, “No one recognized me, so it’s fine. You want a strawberry?” She takes one from the plastic, reaching it out to him.
Kenji eyes the strawberry for a moment, before reluctantly taking it. 
"It’s not about making it back safely," he replies, a hint of irritation in his tone, "It’s about the fact that you left without telling anyone. Anything could’ve happened to you." 
“Ahh, you took it from me! You’re not that mad, Mamoru,” she calls him the traditional term, “You can save all that intimidation shit for Jiji, not me.”
"Don’t call me that," he mutters, crossing his arms. "And don’t call your grandfather Jiji. Have some respect."
“What? Is Ojiichan better for you?” She questions as she reaches her hand out, “Here. Have another strawberry. You’re mean today.”
Kenji grumbles, but accepts another strawberry anyway. 
"Don’t try and butter me up," he mutters, taking a bite, "I’m not mean. I’m just doing my job." 
He leans against the counter, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and concern. He taps the piece within his ear, his eyes coming up as he says, “Your grandfathers awake.”
“I’m going,” she’s already beginning to make her way upstairs, “Don’t touch the groceries! I can put them up myself.”
She comes down the hallway, sliding the wooden frame of the door, pressing her hand against the translucent paper as her eyes follow to the sight of her grandfather. Smile lines creased his olive face, even when he wasn’t happy. 
She watched the housekeeper dab a cold towel against his face, walking forward as she tells her, “I’m here, you can go take a break,” she gives a light smile, offering to take the towel from her.
The housekeeper nods appreciatively and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. The only sound left is the soft breathing of her grandfather. 
He turns his head towards her, his eyes slowly opening. “You’re back,” he rasps, his voice weak.
She sits along the floor beside his bed as she softly replies, “I’m surprised you’re not raising your blood pressure to yell at me.”
Her grandfather manages a weak smile, wincing slightly as he shifts in the bed. 
"I'll save my anger for later," he mutters, his voice gruff. "What were you thinking, leaving without telling anyone?"
“I wasn’t gone that long,” she tells him, to which he says, “Bogo de hanashite kudasai.”
She replies, “You’re getting better at your English—can you not be difficult right now?”
"You still haven't explained why you went to the market by yourself."
“I went to your favorite market in Kyoto to find those dumplings you like, I wanted to make ramen,” she says, reaching out as she lightly dabs the towel against his face, “You’ still wanna yell now?”
Her grandfather's gruff exterior softens, and he looks at her with a hint of surprise. He can never stay mad at her. 
"No," he mutters, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh. "I suppose you did bring me my favorite dumplings."
“How are you feeling?”
Her grandfather grunts, waving off the question. "I'm fine," he says dismissively, "You don't need to worry about me."
He notices the look on her face, and sighs. "I'm tired," he admits, wincing slightly as he tries to sit up more in the bed.
“You’ll feel better once I cook,” she mentions, “Do you want to try to take an actual shower today?”
“I’m too weak to stand,” he mutters, a hint of stubbornness in his voice, But I don’t need help showering. I’m still capable of taking care of myself.”
“Yet you can’t stand?” She raises an eyebrow. 
She watches him lean back into the pillow, breathing as if he’d just done a marathon. The ball in her throat begins to form, and she hates that. She then says, “The man that would kill to protect his family, is now letting cancer take him in the dead of the night. You say I’m stubborn, and you wonder where that comes from?”
He grunts, turning away from her gaze. “Don’t start,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “I’m an old man. I’ve already lived my life. I don’t need your pity.”
“And I’m not giving it to you,” she swiftly replies, “We could’ve found the best treatment in Japan. And yet here you are, wanting your final months to be in the walls of this home. The leader of the Yakuza—who’s gonna scare the city when you’re gone?”
Her grandfather glares at her, his eyes narrow and sharp. "I've made my decision," he snaps, "This is where I want to be. I'm not some coward who's afraid to face death. And don't talk to me about the Yakuza. I've done everything I needed to do for them." 
He lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging as he leans back against the pillows, "I don't need you to remind me that I'm dying."
She brings her head down, staring along the towel she holds. She says softly, “Gomen’nasai,” her throat becoming tight again as she continues, “I just wish you weren’t trying to run away from me.”
"I'm not running away from you," he says, his tone gruff but gentle, "I'm just tired. I've spent my whole life fighting and I just want to rest now."
She knows that. It’s just hard to hear. The man that raised her, taught her everything she needed to know, maybe even more.
She hesitates, “Nani ka kiite mo īdesu ka?”
He nods, intertwining his fingers back together, laying himself properly back along the pillows beneath his body.
“Do you regret the life you lived?” 
The question is general, although she wants to be specific. She slowly continues, “I know you for who you are, but others don’t. They feared you, feared the people you brought in. You—killed people, did illegal things. Would you have changed that?”
Her grandfather lets out a long sigh, thinking about her question. He is silent for a moment, contemplating his life spent. 
"Yes," he finally says, his voice rough. "There are many things I regret about the life I lived. Things I did that I wish I could undo. But I did what I thought was necessary for our family—But I never regret meeting your grandmother, and I never regret having your father. Meaning— I never regret bringing you into this world."
She suppresses her smile as she says, “You’re getting soft on me, Jiji.”
"I'm not getting soft," he mutters, rolling his eyes, “I'm just being honest. However, I have one dying wish.” 
She nods her head, waiting for him to continue. He then says, “You will be twenty-six soon, and all I ask is that you’re married before I die.”
She frowns, “That’s not long, Jiji, what am I supposed to do? Go out and pick a husband off of the street?”
Her grandfather smiles at her reaction, amused by her stubbornness. "No, obviously not," he chuckles, coughing a little at the end. "I don’t expect you to pick the first man you see. But you need to start thinking about it. You need to find a good man, someone who will take care of you after I’m gone."
“I can take care of myself,” she always told him, “I’ll be the first in your generation to be lonely with cats.”
Her grandfather grunts, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going to live alone with cats."
“I suspect you have a line up of men to offer to me?” She raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think I’m fond of being with those Yakuza crazies you keep under your wing.”
He studies her again, his eyes narrowed, "They’re respectable men. You're not a little girl anymore. It's time to start thinking about your future."
“I do think about my future. I’m trying to finish school to become a registered nurse, but you seem to tune out as soon as I tell you that,” she reminded him. Her grandfather was unfortunately an extremely traditional man, only seeing women to be taken care of by men.
"You're wasting your time with that," he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to hers, “You don't need to work. You have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life. And you certainly don't need to be a nurse. You're a woman, not a doctor."
“So what are you saying?” 
“I’m saying that I’ve found someone for you.”
Her frown deepens. She says, “Ojiichan, I hope you aren’t insinuating an arranged marriage.”
“An arranged marriage is not something you should reject right away," he says, "I know the perfect man for you. He's respectful, wealthy, and he comes from a good family in the Yakuza.” 
“What happened to not wanting me married off to a man like you or my father? The one who robbed, cheated, lied, killed? That’s what you want for me?” She sharply replies.
"Don’t you talk to me like that," he snaps, "I worked hard for this family. So did my son. I made sure we had power and a life most people dreamed of. This is a good man—strong, traditional. You will meet him tomorrow.”
Her eyes widen slightly, “What? ‘The hell do you mean tomorrow?”
Her grandfather looks at her sternly, his eyes piercing into hers, “You will meet him tomorrow. I'm not asking you, I’m telling you. You will get dressed and you will sit with him for tea." 
He raises a hand when she starts to speak, silencing her, “This is not a discussion. You will meet him, and you will be polite. Understood?"
When she goes to argue again, his hand raises further, her eyes catching the trail of ink littered along the back of his arm, knowing it followed all the way up his back, down his spine. It was a reminder of who he once was, and the authority in his tone also did that. 
He finalizes, “This is my dying wish, Sayuki. You will do this.” 
The call of her full name means it’s no room for argument. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone, let alone be married. But this was all he asked of her, and she wanted to respect his wishes in death. 
She nods her head, “Okay.”
Her grandfather’s expression softens slightly as he sees her nod. He lowers his hand, gesturing to the door, “Good. Now go make my gyoza, a dying man needs to eat.”
At this moment, she thought about poisoning his food. But she gave him something easier. A fake smile, a bow, and exiting the room. 
                                          𝓐ᥫ᭡
     CHAMOMILE TEA. That’s what she remembered from this interaction. When the next day came, it flew by just to spite her. It was now closer to the evening, the lanterns of the night beginning to light as she stood within the mirror of her bedroom. She turned her body as she looked at herself, the backless pale yellow dress flowing down to her thin golden heels, straps wrapped around the tattoos along her feet. The top of her dress tied into a bow around her neck, dark hair up within a matching claw clip.
 If there was a luxury her grandfather had given her, it was to dress however she chose. He’d shoot on sight for anyone that had an opinion on it. Tendrils flew around the caramel complexion of her face, honey brown freckles showing through her makeup despite her foundation, fox eyes slender beneath her lash extensions, pointing upwards along her face. 
She pressed the brown outline of her cupid's bow lips to mix with the mauve closest to her mouth, spraying herself of a sensuous vanilla and jasmine scent before she made her way out of the door, Kenji immediately following behind. 
She asked him softly, “Do I look okay?” Knowing the older man didn’t have much opinion, but she needed some type of reaction from someone.
Kenji looked at her, his expression stoic as usual, his eyes roaming over her figure, "You look beautiful," he said, his voice dry as usual. 
He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on her face, "But you’re nervous," he added, “You’re squeezing your hands together."
“I know,” she sighs, “What if this is the husband of my dreams, Kenji? Like those dramatic movies I used to watch as a kid?”
He patted her shoulder reassuringly, "Just...try to act normal. And don’t punch him, at least not right away."
She huffs out a breath, “Thanks.”
She then slides the opening door to her grandfather's room, seeing as a housekeeper sat beside him, pressing a spoon to his mouth as she fed him soup. 
Sayuki greeted, “I hear a lot of noise from downstairs, Jiji, are your children already running amuck?”
“Don’t joke like that,” he said, his tone gruff, “But yes, half of the clan’s already gathering. They’ll be at a meeting while you’re on your date.”
“Did you have to do that the same day? I’d rather avoid the embarrassment,” she replies, “…You didn’t tell me my dress was pretty.”
“You look like a delicate flower, my child.” 
That makes her feel at ease. She then says, “Don’t let those idiots rummage the fridge, please? Those groceries are for you. I’ll be in the garden if you need me, okay?”
Her grandfather grunts, waving her off with a hand, "Don't show that attitude when you meet him. Don't be sharp-tongued or sarcastic. Act like a proper lady."
She keeps from rolling her eyes. Leaning down closer to the bed, she gives him a kiss on the cheek, before sliding the door closed and making her way downstairs. The men of the Yakuza filled the entire living room and kitchen, rowdy, loud, cigarette smoking, talking shit. Matching black suits, dark hair—an intimidation brought all along Tokyo. It was as if she hadn’t passed by, throaty laughs filling the house as they continued to play cards, arguing with one another.
She was back to following the path of plants, leading up to the gazebo that was surrounded by clear water, koi fish and flowers she’d planted herself, or even helped the housekeeper plant. Her eyes fell over the figure sitting on the inside of it, a table now in the middle of the seating area, small bowls, cups and mugs placed atop. She glanced back at Kenji who now stood by the door that led back into the house, far away enough from the garden, but close enough if anything happened. Her eyes gazed over the smoke that released from the cigarette in between his scarred lip, his frame unfamiliar to her eyes.
Her eyes slowly dragged over the man seated in her gazebo, taking him all in. His broad, muscular shoulders. His sharp jawline. His tall figure even when seated, long legs traveling for miles. Onyx hair and eyebrows furrowed, the dark suit he wore hugged against his large frame that could’ve exploded the seams of material. 
She couldn't help but find him attractive already—and maybe a little intimidating. She took a deep breath, gathering the last bit of her courage, and walked through the garden towards him.
She lifted her leg onto the step, taking him in even closer. When his eyes finally met hers, her heart thumped, as his face wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions. Her hands clasped together in front of her, and she gave him a respectful bow—although she didn’t want to—making her way to the opposite side of the table as she sat herself down. His hand was huge, two fingers molding around his cigarette, plump lips taking another inhale as he scanned her. A couple minutes of silence go past, before his deep, attractive voice is the first to speak. 
“Nihongo o hanasemasu ka?” 
She blinks, trying to hide the scrunch in her nose as she replies, “I prefer to use English. Why wouldn’t I speak Japanese?” 
He doesn’t give an answer, only using his eyes to frown at her. She does roll her eyes this time, briefly explaining, “My mother is black. I’m fluent in both English and Japanese, if that’s what you’re trying to confirm.”
He seemed completely uninterested, his expression still blank. He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out, his eyes never leaving her. After a moment, he spoke in English.
“You’re not what I was expecting.”
“Am I supposed to apologize for that?” She raises an eyebrow.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his expression cold, but amused, “Nah. An apology is unnecessary.”
His eyes flicker over her figure again, the corner of his lip twitching slightly, “But an introduction wouldn’t hurt, yeah?”
She crossed her right leg over her left, clearing her throat in a way to retract her question as she replies, “Sayuki. And you?”
“Toji Fushiguro.”
His eyes traveled down to her legs as she shifted them, watching her move.
“It’s a pretty name,” he says suddenly, taking another drag, “Sayuki. ‘Longevity, long-lived’.”
“You knew that off the top of your head?” She questions, “I don’t know what your name means.”
He chuckled slightly, a rare sound, his deep voice making her heart thump again before he responded. 
“Lucky,” he says, blowing another stream of smoke out, “My name means ‘lucky’.”
“Are you lucky?” She tilts her head, “I would say the habit of smoking is relatively unlucky.”
“Are you worried about my health after ten minutes of knowing each other?”
The question throws her off a bit. She wasn’t trying to have the upper hand in this conversation, but she surely didn’t want to seem nervous. She felt her face go warm as she counters, “Smoking is a bad habit for anyone. My grandfather did it a lot, one of the reasons he’s on his deathbed sooner than I’d like him to be.”
He looked at her steadily, the light smoke from his cigarette curling into the air as he watched her through the haze.
“I’m not worried shit like life expectancy,” he says simply, “My job comes first. If smoking helps me get through stress, then fuck it.”
“You Yakuza men seem to never care about something as important as your health, or your life,” she points out, “You think if you got married your wife wouldn’t be worried about that?”
Toji chuckled again, a dry sound, but an amused one. “Who says I’m looking to get married?”
“Then why are we talking then?” She questions, “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”
Toji’s expression darkened slightly at her question, his eyes flickering with a flash of annoyance. But then he chuckled again, a mocking, arrogant sound. 
“My old man’s making me talk to you,” he says, taking another drag of his cigarette, “He’s your Ojiichan’s right hand. Wants me to start a family, continue the bloodline and all that bullshit. So here I am.”
Yup, there it was. Her patience was thinning. 
She then asks, “And you don’t want that?”
“Nah,” he said simply, “Not at all.”  
He then smirked again, his dark gaze piercing her’s, “Why, do you want to start a family, Sayuki?”
The way he said her name, emphasizing the pronunciation in their native tongue made her shift a bit. It was annoying. She answers honestly despite his tone, “I’m about to be twenty six, so a family would be nice. But I want my degree first, I’m studying to be a registered nurse. I wanna help people in ways my grandfather wouldn’t allow me to help him.”
"A career nurse," he repeats, “How noble and selfless of you."
She raises her posture up a bit, “What is that supposed to mean?”
His dark eyes dragged over her figure again, “You’re pretty as fuck—enough to marry an old millionaire, who’d pamper you ‘till the day you die.”
She now becomes visibly irritated, “I’m not tryna’ be a housewife and pop out a bunch of kids if that’s what you think by looking at me.”
“And why not? That’s what you were designed to do. A body like that and such a pretty ass face. You’d be worth the fuck.” 
Yeah, that was it. She takes the steaming tea in front of her, chucking it directly in his face, letting the actual cup follow after. She stands as she spits, “A disrespectful ass mouth like that, I can see why you’d still be wife searching at your grown age. Go fuck yourself.” 
She’s already stomping away, fire in her eyes as she mutters, “Fuckin’ stupid ass nigga—Kenji! Let’s go!”
Toji’s eyes widen for a moment as the steaming tea is splashed into his face, his skin searing against the liquid as it hits him, cup following after. He looked to see the large bodyguard standing by the porch, and even he was shocked. All he could do as he watched her fly past him was give Toji a helpless stare before muttering, “Yes ma’am.”
In the past years of her grandfather being sick, the next five days was the first time she’d heard him curse in the longest. His anger trickled over to guards, staff within the house, even his men who worked for him. He was pissed after hearing what his granddaughter had done. She stayed in the room if she wasn’t checking on him, and the moment she saw him ready to go off, she would grow wings and fly. He’d be fine eventually. 
She was now within the living room, palms and feet pressed along a mat as she did her morning stretches, talking on the phone with her mom to tell her of the situation. 
“Chile, I don’t know why you’re calling me. Kenji already told me what happened—had your grandfather called, the man would’ve written his own eulogy. Doctor said his pressure is at an all time high,” her mom said, chuckling into the phone. 
Sayuki sighs, “I wasn’t trying to give the man a heart attack.“
“I’m sure you didn’t, honey. But you know that first impressions matter.”
She brings herself to her knees, halting her stretching as she deadpans, “Momma. I understand the cultures around here, okay? Respect is big and all that shit. Jiji taught me that. Ole’ boy was the disrespectful one. I just gave him a taste of his own medicine. Or tea, to be specific.”
“I know he was being rude, but you know how important this is for your grandfather.” 
There’s a pause between them, before her mother’s voice comes through the line again, a bit softer this time, “It won’t hurt to try and get along with him. At least for your Jiji’s sake, yeah?”
“That’s if I ever see the bastard again. You know Grandpa said? That he made some valid points in our conversation—he thinks all I’m supposed to make of myself is the perfect wife,” she shakes her head, raising her leg out to stretch the muscles behind.
Her mother is silent for a few long moments, before sighing again, “You know your grandfather is stuck in his traditional ways. You can’t expect for him to just change this late in life. Your father was the same way—just wanted me to pop out babies.”
She knew her mom wouldn’t have much commentary on this, considering she’d lived as a housewife for years before her husband's passing. She couldn’t handle the life Sayuki’s father lived, being within the Japanese Mafia—but her father in law refused to be without his granddaughter. So she let her stay in Tokyo, and went to the states to set out her own dreams.  
Sayuki sighs, “How’s the army treating you, Sergeant? Where do they have you based right now?”
Her Mom chuckles slightly into the phone, an amused sort of sound, “I swear they have me stationed in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Texas, in the middle of this town called Waco. The people here are good ‘ol bible-thumping country folk. I’m terrified.”
Sayuki laughs, “You’ wanted to be head honcho so bad, now they’ got you in places you’ve never been before.”
Her mother is quiet for a moment, still chuckling, before she speaks again, “The job’s more stressful than I imagined,” she says, “But I’m getting the hang of it. I’m stationed at the base now, working with the new guys and whatnot,” She paused for another moment, before she sighs and continued, “I really need to get stationed back in Tokyo, though. I miss you and your Jiji a lot, you know.”
Sayuki hates that feeling of tightness in her throat. She told her mom to live out her dreams with her being an adult, and that she would be fine under the protection of her grandfather. But she also needed the only parent she had left. 
“I miss you too, momma.” 
She then hears the sliding door open to the hallway, Kenji appearing with a bow as he greets, “Ohayou gozaimasu. Your grandfather would like to speak to you.” 
Sayuki sits on the floor fully as she raises an eyebrow, “He’s awake already?”
Her mom’s still on the phone, a soft hum coming from the line before she questions, “He’s not a morning person. You’ really gave him a heart attack, huh?” 
Kenji replies, “He seems to be fine. He’s awake and very much alive,” He glances at Sayuki and bows again, before saying, “His orders were to bring you to his room.”
“Alright momma, I’ll try to call you before you turn in your phone again. I love you, always,” she doesn’t want to hang up, but her grandfather could be an impatient man, especially if he was upset.
Her mother’s voice filters through the line again, a familiar, comforting sound, “I love you, too, Sayuki-baby. Stay safe, okay?” 
Then, she’s gone, and Kenji turns his attention back to her. The big man just silently starts walking, obviously expecting her to follow.
Sayuki follows him down the hallway, making their way to her grandfather's bedroom. She sends off Kenji as she slowly opens the door, to be greeted by a housekeeper who’s nervously patting his face with a cold sponge.
She tells her, “You can go. Thank you.”
The housekeeper immediately scurries off, taking the towel and bucket with her. Sayuki’s left alone with her grandfather now, who’s sitting up in bed, a newspaper on his lap. His eyes flicker up to her for a few moments, still sharp as ever.
“Do you come in peace?” She questions, sitting herself beside the bed, “I see you have the newspaper. You must be in a good mood.”
“The doctor said my pressures have risen,” he starts, his voice still surprisingly even, “But I am still breathing. If you hadn’t annoyed me so greatly, I would probably have another decade in my life.”
“Oh? So it’s my fault now? How about you’ put your lil’ gang members in check?” She crossed her arms.
Her grandfather’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt words, obviously surprised. He looks at her for a few long moments. Then, he shakes his head, “I taught you to respect men. Why can’t you be a little more…well… gentle? Polite?”
“I was soft and feminine like you want me to be. He’s the one that said he didn’t want to be married, and that I wasn’t even his type. He doesn’t even like black women,” she rambles. 
As she sees her grandfather’s face, she rolls her eyes as she corrects herself, “Okay—he ain’t say all that. But he did say he was only there for his father’s sake.”
“It doesn’t matter what he said. I know that boy’s a bit arrogant. A little rude too. But family is important. He’s my right hand’s son.” 
His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at her, saying, “And you have no choice in whether you marry him. You’re getting older, Sayuki. Twenty-six is not young anymore. I’m not letting you leave this house unless you’re a wife.”
“Is this my death sentence? What did I do to deserve this treatment?” She flops herself on the end of the bed, “Have you’ no heart?”
Her grandfather simply rolls his eyes, his expression unchanging, “Don’t be so dramatic, Sayuki. You know how marriage works in this family. I had an arranged marriage, and so did your father. The men pick their wives.” 
He paused before leaning forward a bit in the bed, asking, “...Why are women so damn stubborn these days?”
“Cause this isn’t the fifties, that’s why!” She exclaims.
He takes a deep breath as he mutters, “Now if I become as dramatic as you and die right here on the spot, you’ll be very upset with me.” 
He lets a few minutes of silence pass before he says, “…With your father not here, I won’t have anyone to protect you when I’m gone, Sayuki.”.
She sits up a bit, hearing as he becomes serious. She comes closer to him on the bed as she lays her head on his shoulder, “I can take care of myself, Grandpa.”
Her grandfather takes her small hand into his large, calloused one, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. He sighs, “You may be a strong young woman, but you’re too reckless. It’s not safe in this world. No matter how prepared you are to defend yourself.” 
He squeezes her hand slightly, “When you asked me the regrets I have—it made me think, with the kind of family I have, who’s going to protect my Mago when I’m gone? The people that hate me, the people that won’t be able to hurt me because I’m gone, so they hurt you?”
Arranged marriage sounded silly to her, but with the family she had, she understood where her grandfather was coming from. He wasn’t doing this to force anything on her. He just wanted to make sure she was safe—even without him. 
She squeezes his hand, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she suggests, “Maybe I can talk to him. But he needs to apologize. If he doesn’t, I’m not agreeing to this, is that fair?”
Her grandfather grunts again, his expression unchanging as a soft sigh escapes him, “He’s not a man to grovel. And you’ve already left a bad first impression. He won’t apologize for anything. That’s how we raised them, “He pauses for a few moments before giving her hand a tight squeeze again. 
“....But I will speak to him.” He finalizes, his voice low.
“See! Don’t you feel better when you talk things out instead of being violent? A lot of your issues would’ve been solved better that way,” she gives him a smile.
Her grandfather grunts once more, his gaze fixed on the window away from her, “Violence is good when there’s nothing else to talk about. But I’m glad you feel better—because you’ll be going with him to fetch some groceries to cook dinner tonight.”
She immediately pulls her hand back, stepping off the bed as she says, “Huh? A meal? Who he’ think he is—Buddha?”
“Sayuki,” He warns. 
He takes a deep breath, before continuing to speak, “You’re going to go to the store. Then you’ll come back here and cook for him. And maybe by then, you’ll have managed to impress him with your lovely personality.”
“Why can’t Kenji just go with me? You want me and Toji to go, alone, as if I don’t want to put a fork up his ass? You said you don’t want me traveling to Kyoto without him anyways,” she crosses her arms.
“Gengo,” her grandfather snaps, “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I won’t break your ass in two. Toji will go with you. I’m tired of arguing with you. I want to take a nap.”
“Well go take your old man ass nap, then!” She exclaims, “And now you’re not getting any of your favorite fruits!” 
She opens the slide door, shrieking as a tall frame stands on the side of the wall, instantly recognizing the cigarette that hangs between the dark pink lips she’d seen days before. 
She exasperates, “Great—this was a set up! I don’t like anybody in this house.”
Her grandfather chuckles gruffly, a low, amused sound, just as Toji takes a long drag of his cigarette. He glances her way, still leaning against the wall as he speaks, “Good to see you too. I can feel the love.”
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere recovering from third degree burns?” She continues walking, making her way back towards the living room, purposely walking fast in hopes that she’d lose him.
Toji pushes off the wall, easily catching up behind her as he questions, “Why are you so hellbent on avoiding me?”
“Hm, I don’t know—maybe cause you told me all I would be is a good fuck? You remember that?” She pushes the door open to the living room, stepping back onto her yoga mat.
“Yeah, I remember clearly.”
He glances over her, adding, “Although, you’re a lot more interesting than I thought you’d be when this all started.”
She sighs, “If you’re doing this for some brownie points from my grandfather, we can wrap this up quick as fuck, Fushiguro. I’m not sensitive, okay? But what you said hurt my feelings. I was being nice to you, even if I wasn’t keen on this arranged marriage thing in the first place. I need to finish stretching, so are we done?”
At her words, Toji takes a puff from his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth and crushing it out. 
“I’m here to apologize.”
She crosses her arms over each other, raising an eyebrow at that,  “Are you saying that because someone asked you to?”
“Why were you so pissed about some words that came out of my mouth?” He questions, “You could’ve easily ignored them.“
“You don’t even know me. You assumed that I’m some airhead ass girl that’s looking to be sold to the highest bidder. Well I’m not. I have my own dreams and ambitions, none of them involving a man unless I decide that for myself.” 
Toji looks at her for a few moments in silence. He runs a hand through his dark hair, before speaking once more. 
“So I hurt your feelings.” he mutters. “And you’re not some airhead. Anything else I should know?”
His stare was intense at times, and it made her feel naked under the SKIMS army green romper she wears, headband and glasses pulling her hair out of her face. Facing him, she reaches down to grab for her ankles, stretching her legs out as she huffs, “That’s your form of an apology?”
He does take the time to watch her stretch, but doesn’t comment on it, just saying, “Goddamn, girl. I’m trying. I’ve never apologized to someone without a gun to my head.” 
He takes a step forward, his head lowered as he stares down, now practically upside down with her. 
“I have a habit of saying shit I don’t mean. So I’m sorry. You can throw some more scorching ass tea on me again if you want.”
She pulls her hair out of her face as she stands up, looking around the expression on his face. It’s the same—eyebrows low, waiting for a response. But it doesn’t lack sincerity.
 She sighs, leaning down as she begins rolling up her yoga mat, “I’m not gonna do that. My grandpa will throw me into a pit of fire if he hears I assaulted you again.”
He watches her roll up the yoga mat, “You’ still mad at me?”
She looks up at him, tilting her head as she questions, “Do you want me to be?“
“I don’t know.”
He glances down at her, eyes lingering for a moment on her exposed skin, before he returns his gaze to her face, “If you’re not mad, what are you?”
“Ready to take this long ass train ride to Kyoto,” she finalizes, making her way around him, “I need to go shower.”
“What, no invite?”
“And somehow you’ve managed to lose points again,” she dismisses, slamming the door shut to her bedroom. 
When comes out of her bedroom an hour later, she steps into the hallway to glance along the full body mirror—as she usually did. She pulled her dark hair behind her ear as it was in straightened layers, her usual makeup along her face that consisted of cat eyed extensions, her lip combo of brown and mauve, lower eyelid filled with the matching dark brown of her lips. Her leather jacket clung to her frame, showing off a bit of her midriff as her pants were a matching leather material, hips desperately wanting to bust out of the tight seems. 
She notices Toji along the wall, tilting her body to the side as she states to him, “I don’t know what shoes to wear.”
Toji’s eyes flicker her way, a brief, almost unnoticeable glance at her frame, then back to her face, then back to her frame. He’ll shamelessly admit that his jaw tightened, and maybe he felt his dick jump. 
“You’ asking for my opinion?”
“Jiji is the worst dressed man on the planet, and Kenji is hiding so—yes.” 
She eyes him in the mirror as he walks behind her, turning her head as she notices the look he gives her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”
“You look good as fuck, you know that?”
“You’re not telling me what shoes I need to wear,” she almost pouts, “I wanna go before it hits noon!”
Toji doesn’t respond right away, just looking her up and down again, his gaze lingering for a few seconds on her hips, before he mutters, “You’re hard headed as hell. I said you looked good. I didn’t say what shoes you should wear. If it’s gonna make you hurry up, you should wear heels.”
“‘Kay’,” she turns around, making her way back into her room with a twist to her hips. She finds a pair of her Dior black pumps, knowing she’d be fine in those for most of the day as they were comfortable. She sprays herself of her vanilla scent, shaking her head from side to side, throwing her head back to fix her hair. 
“You don’t have to watch me, you know.”
He pushes off the wall again with his foot, moving toward her now. He’s a very imposing man, his form broad and tall. He’s at least a full foot and a half taller than her.
“My fault. I have a hard time looking away. You’ ready?”
She grabs her purse as she nods, “Mhm,” giving him a quick head to toe. He’s more simple in his clothes, a long black sleeve that hugs his muscular frame, belt, jeans and hefty boots along his feet, hair tossed around the sculpted sharpness of his face. Her eyes flick down to his wrist as she sees the ink hiding beneath the material, coming forward as she pulls it farther up to fully cover it, “The point of your Irezumi is that it’s supposed to be hidden.”
His wrist feels like hot iron under her fingertips. He can’t help but look down as she touches his wrist, her head slightly tipped to look up at him. Fuck, she’s gorgeous from this angle. 
He raises an eyebrow as he grunts, “I know that,” allowing her to fix his clothing.
“I can see it on the back of your neck too,” she points out, reaching up, wrapping her fingers lightly in between his neck and back, “You should put a jacket on.”
The tightness on his jaw returns, his gaze fixed on her as his voice drops to a low murmur, “Are you gonna let go any time soon?”
She hesitates, her fingers still sitting on his upper back as she questions, “Am I making you uncomfortable?” She then fully pulls herself back, “I’m sorry.”
“Did I say that?” 
“No.”
“Then why are you apologizing?”
Before she can reply, he’s already going around her, heading down the hallway to pull the Harley Davidson leather jacket over his body, her eyes also taking notice of the M9 gun he places in the back of his pants. He nods his head in the direction of the door, and she follows after, not before quickly diving into the room to give her grandfather a kiss goodbye. 
The train ride had been…interesting for her to say the least. With it being the weekend, it was one of its busier days, the train compact with people to a point where they had to stand. Sayuki leaned her back against the window of the train as Toji hovered over her, hand gripping the bar up top. When the train came to a stop, everyone began slanting forward, trying to catch their weight on themselves. Toji’s body connected to hers, pressing his chest lightly against her nose to keep her from moving. 
She inhaled quietly, the scent of his cologne trapping her nostrils, his jaw touching the top of her head making her heart speed up a bit.
He tried not to be too obvious as he watched her from this view—but damn, she was pretty like this too. Under him like this. It felt like she belonged there.
It didn’t become any better the moment they arrived in the bustling streets of Kyoto. The cherry blossoms hung along the top of the buildings, brightly lit colored signs coaxing in their next customer. There was a feeling coming to him he’d never experienced before, watching as she politely spoke to people who passed her, talked up the people who worked within the stores, complimented each woman's outfit she saw. Hell, she’d even crouched down, sneaking the sample of food offered to her to a homeless cat mewling close by an alleyway.
Toji was starting to realize just how opposite their personalities were, but God, she had a certain…charm to her. He’d been silent, watching her with a blank expression as she interacted with everyone they passed, never breaking that smile. Toji was gruff, blunt, intimidating—didn’t bother to look at anyone twice. Yet she was the opposite in every way.
How could they ever be compatible?
She makes her way into a smaller market, empty as she knew it was more expensive than the ones on the outside. But this was usually where she bought all of her fresh produce. She glances to the man at the counter, seeing as he flicks his eyes up to her, sitting himself up more straight—as if he had to keep his attention on her. 
She looks around, “Is there anything in particular you like to eat?” She questions, turning herself towards Toji who stays close to the front door, lighting a cigarette between his lips.
Toji takes a long puff from the cigarette resting between his lips, his dark eyes following her through the small shop.
He takes a moment before replying, “I like fish.”
His eyes glance over her form, her ass practically calling to him in those pants. She was sexy without even trying. 
“How about Sashimi? Are you okay with yellowtail?” 
She’s so concerned with his taste buds, Toji only seems to notice the grimace the man at the counter continues giving her.
He looks back at her, all while his eyes are still focused, his tone is a bit more softened as he replies, “Yeah, that’s fine,” taking another long breath from the cigarette between his lips.
“Okay,” she says softly, talking more to herself as she decides how she wants to cook the fish. When she has all of her ingredients, she comes up to the register as she sees the fruits are behind the counter.
She greets, “Ohayo gozaimasu, do you have fresh strawberries by chance?”
“No strawberries today,” he doesn’t return her greeting, cutting straight to her question as it’s nowhere near friendly. 
She frowns a bit, “Are you sure? I come here for them often— the lady that works usually gives me a good amount.”
“I said we don’t have any,” he replies again, his eyes lingering over her, “Are you done shopping?” 
He’s clearly not looking at her in a very favorable way, a look of irritation and disdain written on his face.
From Toji’s stance, he can see behind the counter, looking directly at a box of what looks to hold strawberries. And as he notices the man now glaring at him, he raises an eyebrow, pulling the cigarette down from his lips, blowing out a puff.
When Sayuki notices this as well, she turns back to Toji, putting together that he may have known Toji from being a part of the Yakuza. The owners of this store had to be from a clan that wasn’t too fond of them. 
She then says, “We’re not coming here to cause any trouble—I just wanted my strawberries. I can buy a bundle of them?” She offers, beginning to rummage her purse for the money.
“We don’t serve the likes of you people,” the cashier spits.
And from the way he looks at her in disgust, it feels personal. Her eyebrows lower against her face, hating the way that once again—her feelings are hurt. 
She sighs, “It’s fine. Let’s just go.”
Toji’s jaw clenches, his entire body stiffening. Something about the way her expression broke had his blood boiling.
“Go? Yeah, nah. I’m good on’ that.” 
When he pushes himself off the wall, he’s already standing in front of the counter. In one swift motion, the shriek from this man fills the entire store as Toji has him by his shirt, tugging him halfway over the counter. He fights against the one hand holding him in a effortless yet painful grip, shouting as Toji casually sighs, “Shut up,” raising his cigarette, ashing the man on his forehead. He then takes it back to his lips as he talks, “Now see, we didn’t even have to do all this,” removing the gun from the back of his pants, tapping it against the side of the man’s cheek.
Sayuki steps back, eyes wide as she panics, “Toji! It’s fine!” 
It’s like he doesn’t even hear her, his eyes fixated on the trembling man in his hands.
“Strawberries, right?” 
When the man replies with a stutter, “Y-Yes, sir,” Toji’s expression doesn’t soften, “You got ‘em in back?”
He nods his head quickly, whimpering again, “Y-yes, sir.”
The sight of that man that just had so much mouth for Sayuki, now stuttering and terrified in Toji’s hold, Sayuki can’t help the slightly scared giggle that stumbles from her lips, shocked at what she’s witnessing.
That single sound of laughter reaches his ears, catching his attention as he slightly turns to glance her way, “Oh you like that shit, huh?”
 When he looks back at the cashier, his voice drops even deeper, “Apologize to the pretty lady.” 
The man replies instantly, “Yes, yes! I’m so sorry!” 
Sayuki is still giggling, watching as Toji shoves the man back so hard that he knocks into the wall of objects behind him, nearly falling onto the floor. He presses his gun back into his pants, adjusting his jacket as he mutters, “‘Made me get all out of character,” before he commands, “Go get the strawberries before I actually get mad.” 
The man scrambles on shaky legs, pulling out the box of fruit behind him as he says, “T—Take them! Take everything you need!”
Sayuki politely takes two cartons as she gives him a smile, “Thank you,” as Toji tugs the register closer to him, knocking his fist down to it, watching as it opens, pulling cash out of the object. 
She shakes her head, “Now you’re doing too much.” 
“They don’t call me a criminal for nothin’, baby,” he puffs out some smoke, “You’ hungry?” 
She sighs, keeping her complaints to herself as she puts all her groceries within her tote bag, “Starving, actually.”
“Good.”
He takes one last drag from the cigarette, before flicking it to the floor, watching as the man flinches, thinking he was gonna toss it towards him. 
“C’mon,” he gruffs, “It’s on me. Or him, in this case.”
They make it to a restaurant a couple of blocks down, Sayuki placing the strap of her tote against the chair behind her, giving a polite smile as the waiter places the food down against the table. She glances up at Toji, taking the mini slice of pizza as she questions, “Are you gonna smoke in every building we go to?”
“You gonna bother me every time I do?” he shoots back.
She scrunches her nose, “You’re supposed to be nice to me. Wanna bite of my pizza?” She offers, raising the slice towards him.
He raises a dark eyebrow, a huff of a laugh leaving him as he leans forward, his jaw parting slightly as she brings the pizza to his mouth, biting into it. When she pulls her hand back, he chews silently before replying, “I didn’t shoot that dumbass in the store, and I just took a bite of your food without arguing. I’m Peter Pan at this point.”
The laugh that falls from her mouth is bubbly, wrapping her full lips around her straw. Once again, she’s back to noticing him staring at her, she raises an eyebrow as she says, “Why are you always just looking?”
“Can’t help it. Got some pretty ass lips.”
“Quit flirting,” she moves her hair behind her shoulder, glancing down at her phone to distract herself from the warmth that comes along her face.
She then hears him remind, “You never told me how school was going.”
She peers her head up, “Why do you care now?”
He doesn’t even look phased by the question, “Can’t I ask? You’d rather I don’t show any interest in you?”
She sighs a bit, “I don’t think you’d know anything about it.” 
Toji’s eyebrows raise up at her response, “Why you’ said that shit like I’m uneducated?” 
He leans in closer, his knee now touching hers beneath the table, the feeling intimate, “Talk to me.” 
She tilts her head, trying to adjust her knee away from his, but it’d be too obvious to completely shift the way she sits. So she leaves it there. 
“I’m tryna’ get my Bachelors in Science. Meaning I have to take some stupid ass, hard ass class like Pathophysiology. They teach shit like that in the Mafia handbook since you know everything?” 
“You don’t need a degree to know how the human body works, baby,” he replies, “Seen a lot of dead bodies in my time.”
“Gross,” she dismisses, “Hearing that makes it all the more worse. This is harder than college advanced math for me. Maybe I’m just stupid or something,” she presses her lips together, leaning her head in the palm of her hand, placing her elbow against the table. He can see the change in her expression, the way her mood visibly drops. 
“Baby,” he sighs, her heart fluttering a bit at the repeated pet name, “You can’t really think I was callin’ you stupid.”
“I know you weren’t. It’s just— I’ve taken this class twice, and I’m someone who believes shit happens for a reason—maybe this isn’t my path, cause I’d be able to pass if it was meant for me, right?” She blinks, her lashes fluttering heavily.
“Or,” he interjects, “Maybe you need to learn how to ask for help instead of just assuming you’re incapable of passin’.” 
He can see her brain processing, a slow flicker of shock and confusion in her gaze. When she just stares at him, silent, he confirms, “You don’t gotta deal with all your problems alone.”
“This is where you just say I’m pretty and my brain is big,” she rolls her eyes, picking a pepperoni slice off her pizza, chewing against it to distract herself.
“Baby, I’ll call you pretty whenever you want. But I’d like it even more if you’d admit you’re smart without me havin’ to remind you.”
“My dad was really good at sciences, it must’ve skipped a generation,” she gives a weak smile, a tinge of sadness hidden beneath her expression. 
Toji’s jaw clenches at the sight of such a weak smile on her face. Something about how sad she looked bothered him, and maybe he wanted to get back that bubbly expression she’d just had moments ago. 
“You’re smart, Sayuki. It never skipped a generation.”
She tilts her head a bit as she replies, “I think you’re just saying that cause you have a lil’ crush on me.”
“Damn, guess I’ve been figured out.” 
That actually makes her giggle, and to see that return to her face does make him relax a bit. She then offers, “Want me to feed you again?”
He glances down at the offer, looking back up at her, his head tilting a bit as he grins, “You miss my mouth already? Greedy ass.”
The stark contrast of their first interaction up until now was nothing that Sayuki had ever expected. She wasn’t the one to believe in fairytales, or have these high hopes when it came to the possibility of a relationship. But this was something she hadn’t felt with anyone in a while—romance. 
Maybe she was starting to like him— maybe she was love bombing him. She wasn’t entirely sure. She noticed small things, like anytime his stride was longer than hers, he’d slow down to walk more behind her. They were now walking through the quiet night in between two buildings, planning to make their way back to the train. 
When she caught onto his purposeful walking tactic, she took hold of his hand, tugging him forward a bit as she became annoyed, “You can walk faster.”
“You keep tuggin’ on my arm like that, I’ll think you’re desperate for me to touch you or somethin’.”
She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be cute. I’m not.”
But as she feels his long strides slow down, she turns behind herself, now feeling as her back is being lightly pressed along the wall. Her head tilted up as his jaw reached her nose, his body having to hover for her comfortability.
He places sturdy hands on either side of the wall, pinning her in place. His eyes hold a dangerous gleam in them, the playful attitude continuing as he looks down to her. 
“You’re quiet. Tell me what you’re thinking.” 
He leans down, his face a lot closer than before, the distance miniscule. 
She takes a deep breath, kneeling her face closer to his, scanning the dark grey of his eyes. She then admits, “I um…I had a nice time with you today.”
“You did, huh?”
She smacks her lips at that, turning her face away. One of his hands leaves the wall, moving to grip her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting her face to look back at him. He hums, “What other shit you wanna admit while you’re at it?”
“That I like you,” she blinks up at him, “And…that I hope you saying you liked me too in the restaurant wasn’t just talk.”
His hand moves up further, his fingers moving along the skin of her cheek slowly, “How about you quit doubtin’ me?”
One thing he’s good at doing is making her easily irritated. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at him, “Well why can’t you just say it again? You always gotta answer my responses with a question. You can just be so—“
Another thing she couldn’t stand about him—he was smooth. There should’ve been no way that he caught the rest of her words within his mouth, gripping her in a kiss to shut her up. His hand grasps the back of her neck, tugging her hair a bit to keep her head tilted up. A baby gasp pulled from her mouth, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to keep herself steady. His mouth was warm, tongue heavy, her eyes slowly fluttering shut at the taste of him.
And god, that gasp of hers was music to his ears, pushing his tongue further into her mouth in response as the hand once on the wall slid down to grip at her hip, using it to pull her against his body. It wasn’t rushed, instead slow, his tongue twisting slowly around hers, his teeth catching gently against her bottom lip in a way that couldn’t be an accident.
She’s so drowned within him, she has to reach up and clasp her fingers around his jaw, pushing his mouth back as she presses her forehead to his, breathlessly giggling, “We’re gonna miss the train…”
He leans forward again, and for a second, she thinks he’s going to push for another kiss, but his nose brushes against hers instead, his tone lower as he questions, “You’ that eager to go home?”
“I’m just—“
“Yo, Yakuza boy!”
They both halt, Sayuki pulling herself away as she looks to the end of the alleyway, seeing two men beginning to walk towards them. They weren’t familiar to her, but she had a feeling this was men from another clan. The way they walk towards them—it’s not inviting in the slightest. 
“We heard how you robbed the market a couple blocks down, thought we’d come politely ask for that money back.” 
She knew Toji wasn’t afraid. But in the sense of her being with him, she could see the way he lifted his head, glaring at the two. He lightly took her body within his arm and pushed her behind himself.
“We can do this shit later. I got a woman with me,” he warns, “Your cashier boy pissed me off, I was teaching him a lesson.”
The two men glance between each other, before going back to Toji, taking another couple of steps forward. One of them grins, his tone mocking as he responds, "And? We didn't ask for the life story."
Sayuki grips her fingers against the jacket he wears, trying to pull him back as she muffles, “Let’s go, Toji. We aren’t in Tokyo—“
“Leaving so soon?” 
She turns, seeing another man coming from the opposite end of the alleyway. They were now surrounded, and this one carried a crowbar within his palm.
Toji tenses visibly, his arm tightening around her as he glares at the three men surrounding them, his eyes flickering from each one.
“You’ got a fuckin’ death wish?”
“I think you do,” one of the guys counters, “You know this is our turf. Now shit has to get a little ugly in return. We’ll just strip you down, call it even, cool?”
Sayuki steps from behind him a bit, coming towards the man with the crowbar as she quickly says, “I don’t mind bringing the stuff I took from the market back. It’s no problem—“
But just in that millisecond, it’s as if someone cut the lights off in her brain. She doesn’t register the knuckles that crush against her face until she slams against the ground, her hair falling over her jaw that throbs the minute she feels pain register. She grunts, her ears ringing, palm dragging against the cement to try to bring herself to reality as she can now hear fighting above her.
Everything seems to go silent for Toji when he watches her fall to the ground, a heavy rush of red flooding his vision that he’s never felt before. When he sees her hands desperately gripping the ground beneath her trying to get up, a voice in his brain snaps, and he’s charging at the guy that hit her before any sort of rationality can make an appearance. All three men are surrounding him as he swings, forcing his weight down into every punch he throws.
Within seconds, one of the men is clutching his abdomen, another bent over on the ground, and the third—crowbar in hand—struggling to stay upright as he raises the bloody metal weapon in the air to swing down against Toji’s head.
Her vision is a bit blurry, hand trembling as she reaches for the wall close to her, eyes opening as she begs, “T—Toji…stop…” so quiet that she knew he couldn’t hear it. 
She could see as he picked up the man bent on the ground, beginning to plummet his fist into his face. He won’t stop.
She can hear the blood against his knuckles, the crack of bone shifting beneath his punch, the small grunt each time he swings forward. Her body feels cold, a sense of fear exhilarating her skin like no other. Seeing him mercilessly beat this man was a reminder of who he could be—who he was.
“Toji…” she pushes her voice out more, “…Please stop! You’re going to kill him…”
As she pleads, the punches continue. She watches as the man with the crowbar drops the weapon, pulling a pocket knife from his pants, rushing over as he lunges into Toji’s side. That makes Sayuki almost sober up, watching as he drops the man in his hands, hitting the ground with him.
Toji grunts out in pain, his hand moving to grip his side. He can feel the way more blood pours from the wound, soaking the side of his pant leg and jacket.
An anger she hadn’t expected seeps through her entire body. Even with a throbbing jaw, a weary vision, she scurries forward as she grabs the crowbar the man originally held, raising it as she swung harshly at him, watching as he slammed against the wall from impact. She reaches within the back of her jacket, pulling a bigger pocket knife as she jabs it within his side, using her strength to hold him against the wall, ignoring the curse he lets out. 
She grits her teeth, “Now you’ll both have matching scars,” twisting the knife within his body, ignoring his painful shout.
Toji pushes himself up with a low grunt at the sound of her voice, his hand still covering the spot where he was now bleeding, pissed at how own vision was becoming blurry, hearing the shouts of the man, seeing his shadow glide by as he took off from the alleyway, knife still within his side.
Sayuki throws the crowbar within her hand, rushing over to Toji as she drops to her knees in front of him, pressing her hand against his wound as her eyes chaotically scatter over his pained look, “Hey—hey—look at me…” Her own hand becomes painted red, “Shit!”
Toji’s eyes are screwed shut for a couple of seconds as her hand presses against his, body flinching at the pain. But when he registers her voice again, his eyes snap open. The feeling of her hands against his skin is enough to help clear the darkness that was starting to take over his mind. His hand moves from his side to grab hers.
“I’m fine,” he mutters.
“No you’re not,” she croaks, her vision returning to a blur, clearing as warm tears slide down her freckled cheeks, “You’re not. I’m calling for help, okay? P—Please stay awake,” she’s holding his wound, clutching the side of his neck, her heart beating outside of her chest.
Toji’s eyes look at her, seeing the worry across her face. He knew he had to stay awake, not only for her but for his own damn sake if he didn’t want to bleed out in some alleyway— her touch on his neck was making it near impossible for him to keep his head up.
 He huffs out a short breath, “Don’t…call anybody.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid right now!” She softly panics, fingers trembling as blood rushes over the screen of her phone, dialing someone, anyone at the moment. The phone slides farther away from them as she tries to pull him up, desperately taking his jacket off to press it against his stab. 
She’s rambling in panic, “They hurt you—I’m so sorry…”
Toji feels his balance stagger a bit as she pulls him up, the action forcing a hiss of pain from his mouth. He leans his weight against the wall, his eyes flickering to the phone on the ground. His jaw clenches, the thought of any of this being her fault pissing him off, “S—Stop apologizin’…not now…”
“I can’t,” she cried, terrified at the sight of him, her face entirely red, breathing unleveled as her chest heaved.
Toji’s heart twists at the sound of her crying. He wants to reach up to wipe her tears, but the pain in his side makes it nearly impossible. 
“Don’t cry,” he practically pleads with her, the thought of her crying any harder making his head spin.
In Toji fashion, he raises his free hand up to reach for her body, pulling her close to him. He wasn’t dramatic, but seeing his vision blur might’ve had him tense, and if he did pass out, he had to make sure she was still there. 
He grits out, “You…had a knife on you this whole time?” 
She blinks through her tears, sniffling as she registers the question. She nods her head, trying to keep herself calm. Even stabbed, he was able to form some type of amusement, a tired huff of a chuckle blowing against her face as he said, “You really are my fuckin’ wife.” 
She can’t help but laugh in return, the weakness of his voice making her cry harder. Toji couldn’t help it, holding her felt good, especially in his current condition. His hand moves to tangle within the ends of her hair, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans his head back.
He couldn’t tell how much time passed as the lights of Kenji’s Cadillac Escalade illuminated the dark alleyway. But it didn’t matter, he’d passed out—Her touch being the last thing he could feel.
                                     𝓐ᥫ᭡
SAYUKI LOOKED WITHIN THE MIRROR, head in her lap as the housekeeper continued to press ice along her bruised jaw, tuning in and out of her grandfather's chastising. Even in sickness, even on his deathbed, the man had a voice on him. 
She sighed, “You’re going to run your blood pressure up if you keep yelling like that, Jiji.” 
He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, the action clearly disapproving. His eyes glared at the bruise on his granddaughter’s face.
“Of course I’m going to raise my goddamn blood pressure. You were assaulted. I’m going to have those bastards heads sent back to their families!”
“Me and Toji stole from a market in Kyoto,” she reminds, “We didn’t know the store belonged to a different turf.”
“I don’t care where you were—“
He grits the words out between his teeth, his eyes narrowing. Kenji, standing in the doorway, gives the older man a look telling him to relax. The old man huffs, closing his eyes for a moment.
“How does your face feel?”
“Like I fell off my bike, Ojiichan,” she softly replies, “Is Toji alright?” Her patience is wearing thin, no one telling her any updates of him since they took him down to the basement, calling along their underground doctor.
The older man sighs, “The doctor stitched him up. It appears he didn’t lose that much blood…he was lucky,” he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to her face, “You two should’ve known better. We don’t need another incident like—“ 
He stops himself, not wanting to bring up the past. He then says, “He’ll be in one of the guest rooms tonight. You should go check on him. I would like to go to sleep.”
She knows he’s upset, but she doesn’t want to make it any worse. She leans down as she gives him a kiss on the cheek, bowing as she allows the housekeeper to get him ready for bed. She gave herself time to relax, showering off the blood on her hands and body, throwing an oversized tee on herself, slipping along her house slippers as she goes in search of the guest bedroom along the opposite side of the house. It’s dim within the hallway, quiet as she pads her feet against the floor. She doesn’t know why she feels nervous. She stands in front of the sliding door, halting herself there as she takes a quiet breath. She knocks along the wooden part, not wanting to intrude.
Toji is sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless as he looks over his stitched up wound. He had scars all over him, but the newest one was different.
The doctor was right—One wrong move and he could’ve died. That thought makes his jaw clench.
He huffs out a breath, replying, “Come in.”
She slides the door open, closing it behind herself as she looks over him, now seeing his Irezumi face to face. The colors strike upon his skin, body painted in ink from the top of his back to his tailbone, traveling all across his arms. It’s like he wears another shirt. Even through the ink, she can see the stitches along his side. She comes forward as she kneels herself in front of him, placing a gentle hand close to his injury as she asks, “How does it feel?”
Toji’s eyes watch her as she moves before him, taking in all of her features in that oversized shirt and her house slippers. Her face is bare, freckles prominent, dark hair curly and damp, stretching down her back as she’d just gotten out of the shower. He had never seen her look so small —maybe because she rarely looked so vulnerable.
He reaches out to place his hand on top of hers, his eyes flickering to the sight of his wound, his expression showing how bothered he was. 
“Hurts like a motherfucker.”
He immediately catches hold of the bruise against her jaw, grunting to her, “Tell me it hurts. Don’t lie to me.”
“It doesn’t,” she promises, “I’m fine.”
Toji makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. He brings his other hand to her chin, gently turning it to see her from a different angle in the light. 
“I know you’re pissed off, but I’d rather you just say that you’re glad I’m okay,” she tries to lightly joke, “My grandpa’s given me enough shit about my injury.”
His head cocks to the side as he gives her a look, “You seem to know me already.”
His grip on her chin is still tight, his thumb softly moving across the skin, “You have no idea how pissed I am that this shit happened….all because of me.”
She exhales, her mind flashing of memories she didn’t want to be reminded of. She rubs her thumb across his arm, flicking her eyes up as she admits, “The moment I saw you on the ground…it just—it made me remember how I felt…seeing my dad like that.” 
She hates that she feels her body go cold, finding it so hard to talk about this. 
“It happened all the same—walking from the market, being trapped by members from another clan. They stabbed him, killed him—enjoyed how I cried for them to stop.” 
She can feel the tears in her eyes. She swipes her fingers under her cheeks, feeling her hands trembling as she shudders, “I just…I was so scared,” she tremors, “You can’t do shit like that, Fushiguro—“ she's hyperventilating at this point, “I can’t lose someone else like that…” she brings her hands to her face, sharply inhaling as she full on cries.
Toji feels his chest shift at the sound of her broken voice. Seeing her cry because of him, seeing her so terrified—it does something to him.
He pulls her from her kneeled position to place her in his lap, his arms wrapping around her body to hold her close. He didn’t say a word for a while, letting her cry into his bare chest as his voice lowered, “I’m sorry.”
She cries into his neck, clutching him tighter, feeling all of her emotions pouring through her body. Her cries are then encapsulated by his mouth as he grunts, “C’mere,” pulling her into a kiss, the mixture of her mouth trembling beneath his making him groan.
It’s messy. Her tears mixed within their kiss. Her body shaking between his, her sobs breaking against his lips as he continues to kiss her. Toji felt a pang in his chest at the action, his arms pulling her body closer to his, fingers tightening around the shirt she wore. His injured body ached, but having her so close to him like this was worth it.
Toji’s hand moves to the side of her face, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, tongue dragging her mouth around with his. She tasted like warmth, a home that he never knew.
His free palm comes under her shirt, gripping the skin of her ass to twist her back onto the bed, body now hovered above hers. She quickly hesitates against his mouth, “Your stitches, Fushiguro…” pressing her hand along his chest, not wanting to hurt him.
“Did I say you hurt me?” 
“No—“
“So give me your mouth, I want you bad as fuck right now,” his nose nuzzles against her neck, the ticklish pleasure making her eyes roll back slightly.
She pulls face down to meet him, bringing her lips close to his mouth as she says softly, “Go slow, please…” pressing their noses together, breathing hesitantly against his mouth.
Toji’s face darkens, his eyes looking intensely into her own as his pupils dilate. He wasn’t exactly a gentle man—but he wanted to try for her sake. 
He clutches her by her neck as he pulls their lips back together, head knocking back in a motion as he kisses her, the weight of his body overpowering even as he tries to be soft. His hand presses against the bare skin of her hip, dragging his thumb along the goosebumps forming. When Sayuki’s eyes flutter open, she flicks them up to the mirror above, engraving the ink along his back in her brain, locking her fingers into the back of his hair to have his mouth fall more into hers, dropping her lower lip to release a shaky breath.
Toji’s hair was soft between her fingers while his touch was firm along her hip. His tongue flicks out to catch her mouth just before it leaves his.
She reaches below herself as she arches her back off of the bed, face warm as she pulls the end of her shirt upward, peeling the material from her skin. To see his glare at the sight of her, she pulls his shoulder down to press her chest to his, hating how he stared.
“Don’t do that,” he grunts, raising himself back up, pulling one of her hands above her head as he slips his fingers through hers, eyes burning at the sight of her bare skin. Her brown nipples, caramel skin, she’s glowing beneath the dim light of the bedroom.
His mouth travels, sucking her nipples in between his full lips, her body arching towards him the more he lowers himself. His arm holding one of her hands keeps her in place, her body wanting to pull away, all while wanting to pull closer to him.
Toji’s tongue is rough and wet against her, tracing the skin of her neck line and collarbone. He wanted more of her—all of her. Her taste and her body makes his head spin. 
His body, firm and muscular keeps her pinned against the bed, her chest rising and falling heavily as he kisses down her stomach. Toji grumbles against her, biting the skin along her hip, “I can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.”
The sound of his voice makes her breathing become heavy, her thighs shuddering as he makes out with the skin of her leg, swirling his tongue up to her ankles, kissing along her feet—he was everywhere. It makes her grip the material of the sheet beneath her, his mouth gliding down to the back of her thigh, making her shakily release, “Toji…”
He loves the sound of his name on her lips, almost as much as he loves the taste of her skin. Her body shivers beneath his touch, her toes curling as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way back up her leg. 
He growls against her, “Say my name again.”
His large frame is able to keep the intertwine of their palms together as lowers himself down, locking his other palm against the back of her thigh, tugging her lower half even closer. Her heart beating in her ears nearly implodes the moment she feels his mouth drag up the folds of her pussy that keep her clit hidden, and she full on gasps, the sound shuddering as her head knocks back against the pillow, breathlessly whining out, “T—Toji!…”
She’s warm and wet—thighs shaking as he holds her by the ankles, locking her knees against the sheets of the bed, tugging her down to meet the lap of his tongue. It’s flat against the nub of her clit that swells at the connection, her arousal collecting against his jaw, Sayuki’s skin trembling involuntarily as he’s already slurping.
She couldn’t remember the last man in between her legs. But Toji knew exactly what he was doing. She wants to snap her legs together, warmth forming along her cheeks as she desperately reaches for his hair, taking the air out of the room with her pouty gasps. His hands grip her ankles tighter, the spread of her legs making his mouth become deeper, Toji grunting as his nose pressed into her slick folds, tip of his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it gently between his lips, giving opened mouthed kisses. 
"’Pussy never tasted like this,” he groans against her heated flesh, his voice low and husky with desire, “I could eat this shit all fuckin night." 
He’s back to lapping at her, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick drags, almost lost within her taste.
She shudders, “W—wait— baby—“ the pet name falls from her lips naturally, although she’s shy to release it, another pant coming from her as he raises her legs right in front of her face, closing them in so she isn’t able to see him eating away at her. 
She whimpers as her knees press a bit to her chest, dragging her nails against the skin of her thigh, laying her head against the pillow as she forces herself to fully relax. Her eyes flutter shut as she whines again, “Go slow, baby…” she keeps reminding him, “Gonna cum if you keep doing that…”
A deep growl vibrates through his throat, “Sensitive as fuck,” the vibrations sending pleasant tingles through her wet heat as he continues his assault. He’s pushing his mouth deeper, swirling his tongue around languidly, slow in his speed, weight in his efforts. He suckles the sensitive nub greedily, his lips sealing around it as he applies just the right amount of pressure.
The way he listens, his mouth runs off against her as he grunts, grinding her hips to lead back onto his tongue, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, baby—fuck,” sucking her pussy so sensually into his mouth, the sounds it creates—she does the worry of her pleas as her eyes come down, watching as she gushes unexpectedly into his mouth. Her upper body arches up as she trembles, gasping deeply within her throat as she cums.
A moan flies from her lips when she feels him spank her, leaning up to capture the broken sounds she makes, dragging his palms along the back of her knees, already locking her legs over his wide shoulders. Her mind is within a pleasured frenzy, and she has to tug her fingers back into gripping his hair, giving herself a sense of control as she pants again, “S—Slow, baby…please…”
Toji was anything but slow, his mind hazy and cloudy as he felt his body throb with need. She was soft—like everything he could’ve ever needed.   
His lips, wet and lush, move against her, a small grunt leaving his mouth, “I hear you,” he mumbles against her skin like a prayer,  his hands gripping her waist to pull her further against him. Her eyes knocked down to him removing his pants, hearing the slap of his tip kiss his abdomen briefly—it’s heavy, smacking politely against her clit, but the size made it impolite. 
He pulls his mouth back from hers, pressing their foreheads together to listen to her breathing, pleas within the music of her voice. It’s as if time halts itself, Toji taking her free hand and locking it back above her head with his, his other hand wrapping along her ankle, pressing it farther into the bed. His face frowns atop of hers, keeping a focused attention as his tip nudges in between her sensitive folds—Her lower body aches with a rush of pleasure as he sinks himself in, mixed with an erotic pain she hadn’t felt in so long. Her eyes fall shut as her head falls back into the pillow, her body shuddering as she whimpers, twisting his hair within her fingers as she knocks her forehead back to his. 
Their lips brush along each other as he rolls his hips forward, spreading her legs wider, it makes her stutter out a whimper again, “Baby—I can’t—Mmmph,” squeezing his palm as he holds her down, feeling as she tries to escape. 
“‘Not even in your shit for ‘real, baby,” he grunts against her lips, “Make this dick yours, you got more to take.” 
She moans brokenly at his voice, pulling his mouth down towards her throat, “M—move….”
Toji’s head drops into her neck, his teeth dragging against the spot where a violet bruise laid. Her cries were pretty, but her moans were prettier. 
He holds her in place as he pulls his head back to glance at her face, her skin flushed with heat. 
“It’s mine now, huh?” he asks, his voice low.
Her face is warm, pulling his mouth back to hide her face within his neck, sucking the skin there as she pitifully gasped in response to him grinding himself forward, feeling an arrogance pooling within his body.
Toji groans against her, his ego growing even more as he feels her mouth against his neck. She’s marking him just as much as he’s marking her, his head feeling fuzzy for more than one reason. He moves a hand to her jaw, his fingers gently holding her chin between his forefinger and thumb to force her face to his, “Let me see that pretty ass face.”
Her teary eyes blink up at him, bringing her tongue forward as she slides it along his mouth, essentially begging for a kiss.
Her tongue against his makes something in his brain short-circuit, his eyes closing as he opens his mouth and gives in to the plea, chuckling in between, “‘Needy as fuck for my mouth, even now.” 
It’s hot, wet and messy, both of them pressing their lips together to taste each other in a way that will never be enough. 
She whimpers to him, “Don’t laugh at me…” dragging her nails lightly along his back, trying not to form her mouth into a pout.
Toji’s eyes open in time to see the pout against her lips, he can’t help but release a low chuckle again at the sight of it. 
“I’d never,” he grunts, leaning in close enough that their noses brush together, a small grin on his face, “I need you too, baby. Talk to me.”
Her voice is small, her panting heavy within her chest as she keeps her nose brushed against his, admitting to him, “It f—feels good…”
Toji’s cheek presses further into hers, his face becoming stoic again, a sense of hunger returning. He’s gentle with his touch, his mind completely focused as he absorbs himself in her pleasured noises. 
“Yeah? Not hurtin’ you?” he asks, his voice gruff in her ear, his teeth nipping at the skin of her earlobe.
She shakes her head, pressing a soft kiss along his lips as she whimpers, “Just squeezing too hard on my wrist, baby…”
His grip instantly loosens from her wrists as her admission. He curses to himself, “Sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing his fingers along the skin to ease the pain from his large hands.
Feeling his attempts to be soft—it made her heart swell. A man that wasn’t emotional, wasn’t soft in the slightest, was trying just for her. It’s like crashing waves of pleasure rush her stomach as he rocks himself forward, making her deeply gasp, “R—right—t—there…”
The sound of the gasp mixed with the pleasure in her voice made Toji groan, his hips jerking against hers. He wanted her to be full of pleasure, wanted every inch of her to feel him—but the patience he had, it was leaving.
She blinked before she knew they were switching positions, trembling as she felt him smack her ass again, grunting to her, “On your stomach.”
This was…different. She’s now against her belly, chest to her back as his body hovered above. He clutches her neck from behind—his mouth is now against her ear, still using his free hand to hold her fingers against the sheets. He sinks his dick in, the heaviness of her ass clapping along his skin— her face contorts, her mouth lightly dropping as his hips become connected with the back of her thighs, tightening his palm against her throat.
His hand is firm against her throat, holding it in an intimate way that controls her. It’s possessive.
His mouth is hot against her ear, his voice a growl against her skin, “‘Just gonna have to take it,” he grunts, voice heavy and full of meaning as his hips drop down against hers, hand holding her in place, “‘Need you to feel me, baby. You feel it?” 
She knew he wouldn’t be able to be gentle for long. Here it was, that cocky, dominant side he’d been holding back. The sounds she makes—they’re loud, high-pitched. She’s mewling with each stroke as he swirls his hips down, Sayuki’s eyes rolled back, listening to the sounds their skin creates against the room, arching deeper into the bed as she embarrassingly moans, “Oooh, shit. Baby—I feel you…”
He grunts in response, his teeth biting her ear as she moans. She felt so tight around him. He’s not pulling halfway out like before—he’s now pulling back until his tip is halfway inside, sharply driving back in, watching arousal squelch more and more, filling to the brim to drip against his balls. He presses his body against hers, his chest flush against her back, moving his hand to the side of her face to hold her head in place as he growls in her ear, “‘Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, baby. Can’t even think straight anymore, huh?”
Her head is leaning back against his shoulder, tilting her eyes up to look up within the mirror on the ceiling as he clutches her jaw. She watches the muscles of his back flex, the color of his tattoos all along his skin, she shudders, gasping, “Yeahh, c—can’t think…”
He catches her gaze in the mirror, watching his body, the way his muscles were flexing. She’s staring at him, him—and the action makes his brain feel like it’s overheating. 
“You lookin’?” he groans, her voice wrecked as his grip on her jaw tightens.
She’s clawing at the sheets beneath her, inhaling deep, gasping dangerously as she whines, “Y—Yeah….don’t stop. Don’t stop…” she feels tears brimming within her eyes, a pleasure erupting within her body she’d never felt before.
She's sniffling, trembling, a small sob pulling from her lips, reaching behind to clutch for his hair again, pulling his mouth down to her throat. He’s cooing in her ear, “I know, baby.”
She drags her fingers into his scalp as she turns her head, “Kiss me,” she begs, rolling her hips back, “Please…”
Her back is arched against him, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, watching the way her ass recoils against his skin—It drives him wild.  
His nose slides against her face to reach for her mouth, his tongue slipping past her lips, the kiss filthy and raw. He grunts to her, “Gonna fuckin’ marry you, gonna’ kiss you like this at our fuckin’ wedding.” 
He chuckles against her shuddering body, watching as she holds onto him for dear life. He won’t stop talking, “You never answered my question. This shit mine, huh?”
She’s full on crying, so wrapped up in the pleasure he gives her— her cheek is along the sheet of the bed, his body following down with hers, pressing his cheek against her jaw, dropping his hips down, earning a squeal in response. She groans, letting the sound drag into a loud moan, clutching her hand over her mouth as she softly cries, “I’m yours, fuck…don’t s—stop…”
His. She's his. The thought is almost his undoing, his heart beating heavily against his chest as he feels her crying, her body clinging to him like she’s lost if he leaves her. 
Her voice is broken as he speaks, a whine from the back of her throat as she tightens around him, “You hear me? I’m gonna marry your ass. Never gonna’ fuckin’ leave. Always gonna fuck you like this.”
He watches her tears stream down her face from the mirror above him, a dark desire stirring within him. It’s a gorgeous sight—her completely and utterly ruined from his touch. 
He grunts into her ear, “You gonna’ say yes?”
His palm locks around her parted mouth, sliding his fingers on her tongue, using the leverage to yank her back, skin applauding like gunshots within the room. The scent of his body is all around her, she’s moaning, turning her head back to look at him, “Yes ...yes…”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“You mean it?”
She can feel her hips falling into his, body becoming exhausted as she trembles, the scream that attempts to release from her lips inhales into a gasp, pulling her mouth down to muffle her sounds as she softly cries, “Mean it, Toji…”
Her words leave her in a whimper, the sound mixed into a sobbed moan, Toji can’t think—He feels like he’s on fire. The pleasure, emotions that course within their body come together in another kiss, her entire body spasming beneath him as she orgasms. Her sobs, her trembling, he can feel it, smell it, taste it. 
He whispers in her ear as he holds her, groaning as he releases with her, his voice completely wrecked, “Fuck—I got you, baby.”
There’s nothing left but their shaking bodies, their tangled limbs wrapped together, panting breaths, and the sound of the two against each other. He can’t get his arms to leave her. 
She grazes her nails along his arm, trying to take control of her breath as she whispers, “Gonna’ put me in a headlock if you told me any tighter…”
He loosens his grip, shifting to turn her body to face him without separating. He’s still inside her, and he won’t budge. He wipes his thumb along the tears on her face, “My bad, pretty.”
She frowns, “When’d you get soft on me? Didn’t know I’d have such a sweet bean of a husband,” she giggles, seeing him raise his eyebrow at that.
He hates that something in his heart melts at her words—but just like a man—he has to circle back to another point of her sentence. 
“Just when I was gonna’ be nice and ask what size ring you wear,” he smacks his lips, Sayuki gasping as he wraps his fingers along the back of her neck, pressing her face down into the sheets, “Now’ I gotta remind you who I am. Put that ass up, I’m not done with you yet.” 
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cursingtoji · 4 days ago
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
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loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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nkogneatho · 22 days ago
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oliver aiku is a milf lover. he did know he liked older women but he never hit on a woman with a child. that until he met you at one of his games, your 5 month-old daughter smiling at him with her arms wide open. he thought the baby was cutest, that till his eyes landed on you. you looked so adorable, so beautiful in a top that reveals your cleavage, convenient to feed your child. he never thought he'd be jealous of a kid. but fuck. your tits were so plumped. he hated himself for lingering his gaze on them, all while you fangirled over him.
oliver hated the thought of someone else next to you, but it's not like he can express it. you must love your husband so much to have a cute baby with him. so the second he found out that the father was not in the picture because he abandoned you, something primal kicked inside aiku. he was furious. how can a man in his right mind leave such a beautiful woman and the cutest baby girl, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved or happy about it. because that means he gets to be by your side.
sure he is so much younger than you, but when you look at him, he is way more responsible than your ex was. you didn't know when it started but soon, you started seeing more of him in your life. he was there for the baby's regular checkups, to stock up groceries in your fridge when you ran out, or to get you the extra diapers even if it's the middle of the night.
soon, he was in your bed too. he himself didn't know how he ended up here but not a single cell in his body regretted when he watched your tits bounce each time he thrusted in you. the back of your palm hid your flustered face, but he pinned them above your wrist.
"don't hide it, sweetie. wanna see mommy's face as i fuck her senseless." you could only mewl at his words. "fuck. is it wrong that i—ugh that i am grateful that piece of shit left you. shit. i have you all to myself now. never—ah! letting you go."
"oliver nghh please"
"will soon make you a—ugh mommy again. god. you'd look so beautiful with my kid in this belly. fuck. i promise to take care of three of you. would never leave." your hands snaked around his nape as he planted kisses all over neck, whispering all kinds of things in your ear.
"gonna cum nghhhh. gonna cum oliver"
"yeah? go ahead, mommy dearest. cum on my cock. fuck. your pussy is squeezing me so tight. ngh—fuuuck. there we go."
oliver's orgasm followed right after yours, though he was wearing a condom, the way you ogled at him with doe eyes, he knew he was gonna fuck you raw next time.
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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago
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JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time
Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento
Word Count: 2,993
A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.
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Gojo Satoru:
The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.
A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.
Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.
The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!
A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.
Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.
Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇
“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.
You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.
“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”
Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.
Today was not one of those days.
In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.
“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”
“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”
“Really?”
“Yep! Laundry!”
“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”
Fuuuuck.
“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”
“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”
The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.
So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.
“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.
“Y-Yeah?”
A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.
Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.
Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.
“I-I don't have any makeup on.”
“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”
His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”
“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.
You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”
“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”
Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.
“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.
“Everything.”
You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.
Choso Kamo:
A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.
Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.
“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”
“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”
Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.
Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.
What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.
“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.
You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.
“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”
Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.
You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.
“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”
Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”
That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.
You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”
Ryomen Sukuna:
Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.
He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.
In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.
“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.
“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”
Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”
“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.
After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.
“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.
Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”
“Acne scar.”
A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.
“I-I fell off my bike.”
You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.
His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.
“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”
“W-What’s gotten into you?”
The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.
“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”
“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”
Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.
“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.
Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.
“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”
Nanami Kento:
The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.
The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.
Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.
Meaning you didn't have your makeup.
“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.
“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.
Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.
“Your overnight bag?”
“Mhmm.”
Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.
“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”
Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.
The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.
His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.
“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”
Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.
“Kento~”
He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.
Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.
And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.
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chaconnehoonie · 10 months ago
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BFFS- S.JY & P.SH
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♡ Sunghoon x Fem! reader x Jake
Synopsis: Your best friends show you how real men treat women.
WC: 4.6k
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, threesome, cursing, Jakehoon call reader princess a lot
Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), handjobs, unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, slight manhandling, squirting, cream pie, reader maybe almost passes out, aftercare(i love)
This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!
A/N: This took me three days to write,, pls bear with me as I figure out my writing style. Jakehoon have me going brain dumb and I rlly needed to write this to get it out of my system, enjoy!
You slouched back in your seat, lolling your head to the side to watch the scenery as big open fields pass by quickly. Sighing in disappointment of your “girls day” gone wrong.
“Okay- what do you mean the Airbnb was cancelled? How do you even cancel one of those?” Sunghoon whines in the front seat while giving Jake directions to the nearest hotel. A real passenger princess, he is.
Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, irritated at the faulty trip plan he had made for the three of you. “I don’t know.” He mutters through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t the one that canceled it. The host did, said something about a family emergency.”
Your eyes grow lazy as the sun sets, watching as the calming twilight takes over the sky. You couldn’t care any less about the Airbnb, just wanting to settle into the nearest bed and relax. So, when Jake finally pulls into the parking lot of the nearest hotel, you’re the first one to hop out of the car.
“Jesus, this place is scary.” You whisper to yourself but Sunghoon picks up on it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Sorry, Princess. I know this trip was supposed to be for you to relax and let go but we’re on a bit of a delay. The fun can start tomorrow.” He ruffles your hair a bit before you pull away to grab your suitcase. “Don’t even worry about it.”
He takes your suitcase in his hand while also holding his own, forearm flexing under his expensive Tiffany bracelet. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m sorry it’s not going as planned.” Jake is frowning next to you as you walk to the front desk and you shake your head at him. “Please, guys. I know you’re trying your best to make me feel better.”
You turn back to Sunghoon who is now holding your room key, ushering you to the fragile looking stairs that creak under each step. “Room 127.” He mutters out as you turn the corner, nodding his head towards the very end of a long hallway of doors.
Grabbing the key from him to run ahead of them, you open the creaky door to let them in first. “Thanks, Princess.” Jake follows behind Sunghoon through the threshold, kissing your temple in gratitude.
They both huff as they set down the luggage, immediately scanning the room to analyze your living situation. There’s two small beds with a nightstand between, an old CRT TV that probably doesn’t work, a scary painting of a cottage in a forest on the wall next to the bathroom door, and a tiny kitchen with only a small counter, mini fridge, and a table for two.
“Well,” Sunghoon sighs, plopping down onto a bed, “Let’s get comfy.” He smiles and even if this hotel is old and creepy, his grin makes you feel like you’re home. “Thank you, guys.” You’re hit with a sudden sense of sadness and guilt. “I know you guys like trips but this was so last minute because of me and I feel bad for making you guys go through this.”
Jake sits down next to Sunghoon, grabbing one of your hands to lead you to stand in front of them. “Don’t even worry about it. We planned this for you. No best friend of mine is going to get cheated on and then rot in bed for all of eternity.” Sunghoon nods in agreement, taking your other hand in his. “That’s right. We’re for lifers and I’d be an asshole to leave my bestie in the dirt just because she got a little closed off and depressed.”
You squeeze both of their hands, smiling down at their big, loving eyes. “You guys are sweet.” You feel a lump in your throat starting to form, and get suddenly too embarrassed of being emotional to be serious, “But you need to stop with the TikTok slang, I can’t take it seriously.” You joke and they both grin at your attempt to be funny, different from your recently quiet and moody personality.
“Why don’t you go take a shower and when we’re all done washing up, we can put a movie on my laptop, hm?” Sunghoon stands up and Jake follows, leading all three of you to check out the bathroom. As expected, the area is small with just a sink, toilet, and small shower. “Good thing I brought my own soaps.”
Just as you turn to grab your garment bag, a large cockroach is running across the floor and Jake is quick to step on it, hearing the loud splat as it’s squished against the tile. “Wow, I am not sleeping tonight”.
♡.
You mindlessly scroll through social media as your best friends are focused on the horror movie playing on the small screen in front of you, huddled up in a big blanket that’s covering them from head to toe, save for their eyes. All three of you are laying on your stomachs, and you’d feel them jerk and hear small squeals every now and then as they get scared, then teasing each other for being pussies which results in them rolling around on the bed trying to push each other off.
You sigh as you click on a certain story that makes your stomach drop, the video audio blasting as music plays through speakers and your screen flashes bright colorful lights while people dance and grind on each other.
“What are you doing? You’re not even watching the movie!” Jake nudges your side and you nudge him back, pushing him into Sunghoon who is laying next to him. “Yeah, we put this on for you!” Sunghoon joins in on the whining, reaching over Jake to steal your phone. “What are you looking at anyways-” He cuts himself off as he watches the video on your phone, suddenly tapping on the person’s profile. “Your ex? Seriously?”
You sink further into the bed with guilt, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as they stare at you in disbelief. “Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” Jake sounds hurt by this, maybe because you promised him you’d block the man after you left him. “I-I don’t know,” You huff, “I can’t just let go of him like that.” You watch the way Sunghoon’s jaw clenches in anger, then relaxes as he starts speaking again. “Y/N, he cheated on you. He doesn’t love you and you shouldn’t be trying to hold onto him like that anymore.” He doesn’t sound angry, but it’s serious enough to hit you where it hurts, taking a deep breath as tears start blurring your vision.
Before you have time to process it, Jake sits up and pulls you into his lap, sitting you sideways on one of his thighs. “You know he’s not trying to be rude.” He cups your face and wipes the falling tears away with his thumb. “We just want what’s best for you, and that asshole is definitely not the best.” Sunghoon hums in agreement, placing a hand on the back of your head and petting you soothingly.
“Let us show you how a real man treats his girl.” Sunghoon’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck. “W-what?” You sniffle, wiping any tears left on your cheek. “You heard me, babe. Let us make you feel good.” He pulls you off of Jake’s lap, laying you on the bed and kneels on one side of you as Jake kneels on the other side.
They both watch you with big, hopeful eyes, patiently waiting for your answer. You could moan just from the way they devour you with their gaze, so you decide to nod in agreement instead. Jake immediately leans down to kiss you, pressing his lips gently against yours while his hands hold your face. Sunghoon’s hands trail up your thighs and hips to hold your waist, pushing under your cropped tank top to grip your skin softly.
You moan quietly against Jake’s lips and he smiles at the way you’re easily relaxing into two pairs of hands. Sunghoon shifts lower, getting comfortable between your legs as he massages the flesh of your thighs. You moan into the kiss again, this time parting your lips slightly, but enough for Jake to slip his tongue through. At the first brush of his tongue against yours you stiffen, hands coming up to grip his hair.
Sunghoon softly squeezes your hip, grabbing your attention away from Jake and you pull away from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your lips, blushing lightly at the vulgar image. Looking down at Sunghoon, he’s dangerously close to your core, with just your pajama bottoms and underwear in the way. “Can I take these off?” He asks softly, as if trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You whisper out a “yes” and Sunghoon smiles before pressing a kiss to your clothed thigh.
You look back up at Jake who is now groping you from over your thin tank top, watching the way your breasts squish under the weight of his palm. Your back arches slightly, pushing your chest closer to him while you pull him down for another kiss. His mouth opens as soon as your lips touch, letting you stick your tongue in and kiss him nasty enough for spit to trail down your chin and onto your neck.
Jake pulls away, kissing down your cheek to your jaw and neck, lapping at the saliva trail and sucking harshly at the joint of your neck and shoulder. Your back arches higher, grinding your hips against nothing as you realize Sunghoon has gotten your lower half completely bare. You pull your hands away from Jake and shoot up, covering yourself and blushing shyly.
“C‘mon, Princess, show me your pretty pussy.” He nips at your thigh, lightly tapping them to encourage you. Hesitantly, you spread your legs open as he stares down, licking his lips and smirking proudly. “That’s my girl.” He lifts off of his stomach to hover above you, knees on either side of you as Jake takes his spot between your legs. They moved so swiftly you almost didn’t realize that it was Sunghoon you were now kissing.
The way his lips move against yours is different than Jake, softer and less messy but just as hungry. He places his hands on your boobs, softly pinching one nipple and rolling it between his fingers. “A-ah” You whimper into his mouth, lightly biting his bottom lip and he whimpers back in response, shooting butterflies straight down to your core. Jake watches as more slick spills out of you, his cock large and heavy straining against his sweats.
He wastes no time, blowing cold air against your cunt and giving you no chance to complain about teasing as he licks a long stripe up your slit and retracts his tongue back into his mouth to hum at the taste. You shudder at the feeling of him softly kissing your clit, poking his tongue out to gently flick it against you as you press your body up and against Sunghoon.
He takes this as an invitation to continue undressing you, lifting your shirt over your head and staring holes into your chest. Before you can cover yourself again, he catches you and pins your arms above your head with one hand, while the other grabs your face, squishing your cheeks hard enough for your lips to plump up. “God, you’re beautiful.” He leans back down, kissing you softly and pulling away with a smack.
Behind him, Jake is sucking and licking every part of you he can, letting mixes of your slick and his saliva run down his chin and smear on his face. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks harshly. “Fuck- Jake, oh my god.” You moan loudly, pulling Sunghoon closer so he can kiss all over your chest, sucking dark purple and red bruises against your skin.
You assume this is what heaven is. Two hot men kissing and sucking on the most sensitive and intimate parts of you, their hands roaming all over your body to squeeze whatever they feel. You almost forgot that they’re your best friends.
Sunghoon pulls you out of your thoughts as he flicks his tongue over your nipple, softly taking it into his mouth and sucking on it desperately. This sends you over the edge, suddenly feeling too close to your orgasm that your thighs start to tingle and your breathing is unsteady. “Holy shit, g-gonna cum.” You barely have time to warn them before your thighs are closing around Jake’s head, one hand in his hair and the other in Sunghoon’s as he drools against your chest.
“That’s it, baby. Let him taste you.” Sunghoon groans into your ear, his length growing impossibly harder as you lose yourself. Jake doesn’t let go of your clit, instead going further and slipping a finger inside of you easily. “Jesus, you’re soaking.” He smiles as more slick spills out of you, wetting the bed and trailing down his forearm.
“Ah! Too much!” You whine as Jake starts curling his finger, never letting your clit leave his mouth. “It’s okay princess, have to get you prepped for us.” He adds another finger, moaning against your heat at the way he easily slips his digits in, curling them up as your hips chase the feeling.
Sunghoon takes your hand that’s in his hair and trails it down his body, landing on his hard-on. You look up at him as his eyebrows are furrowed, lip caught between his teeth as you gently palm him through his pants. “Go on, take it out.” He wiggles his hips cutely and you nod eagerly.
You fumble with his belt, having to stop a few times to moan and grind against Jake’s fingers. You finally loosen it, popping open the button and unzipping so you can tug his pants down his thighs aggressively. “Relax, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You blush and look back up at him, and he can’t help but cup your face, using his thumb to play with your bottom lip. You stick your tongue out to lick the top of his finger and the sight is overwhelming.
He mutters a quiet “fuck” and stumbles off of the bed, pulling his jeans and boxers down before hopping back onto the bed and kneeling at your side again. You take his length in your hand, going cross eyed at how close it is to your face. He’s huge, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to please him. You inhale deeply, softly stroking him just enough to keep him content as you gather yourself.
You don’t notice the way he smiles down at you, taking in just how sexy you look holding his cock while being stuffed with Jake’s mouth and fingers. He’s never admit, however, how many times he’d jerked off imagining this situation or how many times he planned something like this with Jake.
You lean foward to kiss his bare thigh, leading a trail up to his base and up his shaft, then leaving one final kiss on his tip. He throws his head back at the soft feeling, already sensitive and ready to cum on your pretty face. Jake reaches impossibly deep inside of you and you can’t help the loud moan that escapes, warm breath fanning against Sunghoon’s length. He visibly stiffens before grabbing his cock and swiping it across your lips, coating them with shiny pre-cum.
You stick your tongue out just enough to taste him, but not enough to fit him inside your mouth and he groans at your teasing. The sound is enough to send a shock through your body, bringing you to your second orgasm. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck-“ you’re barely able to moan before Sunghoon quickly slides his cock into your mouth, forcing you to gag and choke through your orgasm.
Quickly pulling off, you take a deep breath before shoving Sunghoon back in your mouth, taking half of him down and jerking off the rest while Jake laps up the mess between your thighs. Your thighs start to shake, closing shut around Jake’s head again, attempting to shove him off of you with your free hand. Of course, he doesn’t let up and just uses his strength to force your thighs back open, this time hooking his arms around them to shove his face back in.
He aims straight for your rim, cleaning the mess that’s still leaking from your cunt. It’s a new sensation, something you haven’t tried out before, although now you’re not opposed to trying it again sometime. Who knows, maybe a second time with your best friend.
You gag loudly as Sunghoon’s hips snap and he shoves himself deeper into your mouth, but he halts when you don’t complain and instead take him deeper, testing how far you can take him until you’re reaching the base and nuzzling your nose against his patch of hair.
You breathe in through your nose to keep yourself there longer, saliva pooling in your mouth and spilling out onto your chin and down Sunghoon’s girth. “Fuck, babe, you’re nasty.” He pulls away suddenly, forcing himself out of your mouth and you get the chance to finally moan, acknowledging Jake and letting him know you haven’t forgotten about him.
How could you forget about him, with the way he laps from your soaking cunt to your rim, eating you out like he’s been starved his whole life. You even catch a glimpse of him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing any friction he can to soothe his aching cock.
“Jake” you rasp out, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. The way his hair is messy and his eyes are wide and needy is almost enough to make you cum a third time. “You must be hurting…” you nod your head towards him, motioning to his very obvious painful boner. “Let me help.” He wants to reject you, feeling guilty after promising he’ll take care of you, why make you return the favor?
With the way you look at him with pleading eyes, though, he doesn’t hesitate to undo his sweats, pulling them straight down along with his boxers, and then reaches for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Sunghoon does the same, using his own shirt to wipe the spit from your chin and neck.
Settling on his knees the same way Sunghoon is, he’s already breathing heavy just from imagining you touching him. So, when you take him in your hand and rub your thumb over his slit, he’s letting out a loud whine that has you craving more. You stroke Sunghoon in one hand while leaning towards Jake to take his tip in your mouth. He immediately bucks his hips forward, then pulls all the way back to apologize.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- ahh!” You don’t care about his apology, only wanting to hear more of his needy whines as you lick from his base to tip, suckling on the head and looking up to catch his reaction. Just seeing him looking so wrecked just from a few seconds of touching has you moaning around his cock, stroking Sunghoon faster with a tight grip.
Sunghoon thrusts his hips, chasing your fist with every pull and tug, his groans and curses raising in volume each time. Meanwhile Jake’s eyes close tightly, one hand resting on the back of your head while the other holds your cheek, feeling the way it hollows as you take him down your throat. The image is far from unholy. Sitting there, taking one cock down your throat while jerking another.
Feeling bad for Sunghoon, you release Jake but continue stroking him, turning to take Sunghoon in your mouth. “Fuck, just like that. Pretty mouth knows exactly what to do, hm?” His praises make you whine, grinding your own hips down on the bed but missing any possible friction.
Of course, even after two orgasms you crave more. You need more whines and moans from both of them, showing you just how good you make them feel.
You turn back to Jake, taking his cock all the way down your throat, staying there, letting the drool spill from the corners of your mouth as tears do the same from your eyes. He’s choking out a moan, strings of curses falling upon deaf ears as you put your sole focus on getting him to finish. You know exactly what you need to do.
Pulling your head back, you gently lift his cock to stroke it as you turn your neck to lick and suck at his balls. His hips halt, thighs shaking as he grips your hair painfully rough. “God, Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, legs continuing to shake as you take him back into your mouth, running your tongue across his slit until he’s filling your mouth with cum.
His whines seem to set something off in Sunghoon, who’s now cursing loudly as he shoots his own ropes of cum across your cheek and down your neck and chest. You don’t know why all it took was Jake to climax for him to finally cum, but maybe you’ll ask him about that another time.
They both stay kneeling, catching their breaths as you fall onto your back against the pillows, legs weak but still sticky between your thighs. “We’re not done, baby.” Jake leans down to peck your lips when he notices your worried look. Falling next to you, he lays down and pulls you on top of him, hands soothing down your sides in a comforting way.
He pulls your face down for another kiss, breaking it to speak lowly in your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” You already know you’re spilling down your thighs again, looking down to watch the way your pussy sits perfectly on his still hard length. You don’t reply, instead grinding down and forward, sliding yourself against him.
“Yeah? Think you can take it?” You’re in a trance from the way he’s speaking to you, holding you, like you’re precious to him. You nod eagerly, sitting up on your knees to rub his tip across your slit, hearing the slick noises of your arousal. Taking a deep breath, you slowly ease him into you, sitting down and wincing at the way he impales you just from a few inches.
Jake’s face is angelic, eyebrows slightly furrowed but his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, turning white at how hard he’s biting. You finally sit all the way down, feeling him twitch inside of you as you slowly rock your hips, falling forward to moan in his neck. His hands tightly grip your waist, holding you still as he pulls out then slides himself back in, throwing his head back in a loud moan.
You thrust yourself down, meeting his own thrusts halfway as he picks up the pace, low skin slapping sounds filling the room. You completely forgot that Sunghoon was behind you, until his hands are palming your butt, and his lips find their place on your back. His gentle kisses up your spine give you chills, clenching down on Jake who whimpers at the sensation.
“Think you can take both of us?” Sunghoon kisses your ear, giving you no time to respond as he stands back up to do something from behind you that you can’t see. “What?” You ask in a small voice, but it’s answered right away when you feel him spit onto the crack of your ass, saliva sliding down and coating your rim.
You try to turn around but Jake pulls you back into a harsh kiss, tongue massaging your own and pulling whines from your throat. He distracts you enough for you to forget about Sunghoon again, while he gently prods his tip at your entrance. “Hoon! What are you- ah!” You’re cut off as he easily slides in, the new sensation knocking your breath out of you.
“Ever take it in the ass, baby?” He leans down to peck your cheek, slowly inching himself in with each thrust. Once he’s fully inside, he pulls back out to the tip just to slam himself back inside. Jake takes this as the green light to also thrust into you again, bucking his hips up at the same pace as Sunghoon.
If you thought you were in heaven earlier, you wouldn’t know what to call this. This act of whatever love or lust this is. Perhaps it was just your friends’ way of declaring their love for you. Or, just trying to prove how a man should treat you, how he should fuck you. You can’t complain though, having both holes filled by big, girthy cocks is something you thought you could only dream of.
And as Jake sensually sucks on your lower lip, and Sunghoon is leaving dark hickeys on your neck, you think you might be in love. With both of them.
One particular thrust from Sunghoon has him throwing you foward and onto Jake’s chest, crying out in pleasure while his grip on your hips is painful. He leans down, keeping one hand on your hip as the other arm is crossing your chest, catching your neck between his forearm and bicep, puling you back up to kneeling with Jake still inside of your cunt.
With your back pressed to Sunghoon’s chest and his length deep inside your ass, you bounce harder, faster, both of them filling you so pleasurably you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you scream with a horse voice. “Fuck- God, yes! I’m c-cumming!” You go silent with your jaw slack as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of your body tingling as you clench impossibly tight on both of them, with just the sound of light splashing and skin slapping keeping you conscious.
Your eyes are closed but you can feel the way Jake stops thrusting, filling you with his thick warm liquid and Sunghoon soon follows, releasing himself into your hole enough to have it dripping past your rim and back onto himself.
You collapse onto your butt next to Jake, noticing the large wet spot left on the bed covers. “Did…did I do that?” You ask shyly, blushing as Sunghoon nods and kneels next to you, pulling you to lay down with him and spooning you while you wrap one arm around Jake’s abdomen.
You feel like you’ve truly ascended, as if this is the universe’s way of rewarding you for every good deed you’ve committed. Having two warm men holding onto you, kissing you, loving you like you deserve. You’d take this any day, even if it’s with your best friends.
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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago
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99 PROBLEMS | MV1
an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy
summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.
wc: 3.3k
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Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.
One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.
Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”
“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. “It’s got protein!”
“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.
Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.
“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.
“Like what?” Max said, not looking up from his phone.
“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”
Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”
Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”
And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.
Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.
He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something. 
Max didn’t really know what to do.
The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”
“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.
Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”
Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”
Max laughed. “Touché. So, what do you do for fun then?”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”
Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”
“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”
“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”
Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”
Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”
Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”
“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”
“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.
“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”
Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”
Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”
“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.
Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”
Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.
By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.
On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.
Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.
By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.
Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.
By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.
“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.
Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”
“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”
Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”
Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”
Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”
Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”
“What?”
“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”
Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”
Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”
Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”
Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”
“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”
Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.
He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.
Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.
Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.
“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.
Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”
Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”
Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”
Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”
Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”
Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”
Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”
Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”
Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”
“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”
Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”
“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”
Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.
Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”
Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.
The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.
Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.
“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.
Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”
Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”
Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”
Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.
“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”
“Lesson?”
“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”
Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”
“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.
Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”
Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”
Noah snorted. “Debatable.”
“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”
“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.
“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”
Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.
Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.
Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”
Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”
Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”
“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”
Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”
Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”
“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”
“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”
“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”
Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”
Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.
He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.
Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”
Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.
Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.
The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.
“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”
“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”
Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”
“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.
The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”
From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”
Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”
Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”
Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.
Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”
Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”
“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”
Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”
“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”
Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.
“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”
Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”
“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”
For once, Noah didn’t argue.
the end.
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jadeactuallysucks · 1 month ago
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Idc what people say I loved seeing him a terrorist. He’s exactly how I would’ve imagined someone outside of his perspective seeing him
Also doing research on Azrael Angel of Death I can’t tell if he’s supposed to be a fallen Angel or just an Angel but I don’t know religion that well
More stuff I wanna say
With all of you chosen defenders out there saying it was dark who killed mitsi, nahhh we need A train Chosen, I’m calling him over during valentines. Ruin some relationships. Including yours. How is it not a surprise he kills people?He’s quite literally made to be a weapon with all the powers and violent tendencies.
And he was absolutely at fault for making dark a terrorist too no complaint about it. Very hedonistic ideology in which the two of them could do whatever they wanted. In which the world was their sandbox. Up to interpretation
Obviously I view chosen, especially my version of him, different than others. Some of you sickos are treating him nicely!!!!
Low-key mitsi didn’t need to be in the story at all. Just tweak a bit, and also the box would’ve been a lot more callous, instead of agent and victim hating chosen for killing their fridged gf, I would’ve loved the more controversial morals of victim hurting chosen for whatever justification he wanted to come up with. And like there’s too much of a pattern with killing off characters for the sake of plot. I think dark is a good exception cause he was a rabid dog and needed to be put down sorry dark lovers also not sorry cry
I liked that ambiguity, I know most people like stuff spelled out for them with backstories but I like mysteries cause that’s how fanart and fics can be made. Some stuff does need to be explained like how victim escaped and founded rocketcorp which I get.
Oh yeah agent 😛😛😛😛 smash smash smash I see why victim is on the bisexual dance floor he’s amazing. And I don’t need merc backstories, I can just guess he recruited work buddies or just buddies
First part and terrorism parts my favourite scenes, can’t wait for Ava 12 to make or break my interest haha. The box will forever remain my favourite episode the glaze is real
Oh my god victim getting tortured during the first scene. By far the best part (except chosen and dark) in the episode. Kicking and giggling seeing him get revived after being unsaved. I feel like it kinda one ups Chosen’s trauma so I definitely hope that stupid shit gets it worse than victim. Honestly this is the stuff I want left out. I want to imagine the pain he went through rather than see it. Cause even after that he still forgives his tormentor like a dog crawling back to its owner
Uhhh also I have a big complaint about women (sorry women) I don’t like the stereotypes. I don’t need to know they’re a women by the colour pink or long hair. But this is me screaming at a wall cause I watch the same thing kids watch and the main audience is children. I need more characters like blue. Where you can’t tell if they’re a girl or not and you don’t need to care cause they’ll be taking performance enhancing drugs either way
These were all made in the moment so yk agree to disagree. I can’t get myself to hate the episode like how other people manage to do. I guess it’s just cause I stuck around for a year to see this. And I’m sticking around 3 MORE SEASONS BABY
Also like this is a good day for multi fandom me. Al of the stuff I watch is getting new stuff. Like omg Ava, then walten files, then interloper and digital circus and prolly more but I can’t count as you can tell I can only count to four
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dreamauri · 21 days ago
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♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟, 𝗪𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗟𝗟 max verstappen x girlfriend! tennis player! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Max Verstappen may be unstoppable on the track, but off it, he's your biggest fan. From playful ping-pong battles to courtside cheers, he’s always there—cheering you on, teasing you, and making life a championship worth winning together. ( 3.5k words )
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( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )
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The stadium was electric, filled with cheers and the rhythmic clap of hands as you prepared to serve for match point. The crowd's energy was palpable, but your focus was unwavering. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew Max was watching—he always was—but right now, it was just you, your racket, and the ball.
Even though Max was a regular at your matches, his presence always caused a stir. Cameras occasionally cut to him in the player’s box, commentators marveling at the reigning four-time World Champion taking time from his schedule to support you. As if he wouldn’t move mountains to be here.
You launched your serve, precise and powerful, and within seconds, the rally was over. The ball hit the court on your opponent’s side, and the umpire’s voice rang out, declaring you the winner. The crowd erupted, standing to applaud the number-one-ranked player in women’s tennis.
Max shot to his feet, clapping and grinning as you fell to your knees, overcome with emotion. When you finally stood, wiping your eyes, you exchanged a handshake with your opponent and hugged the umpire. Then, as if guided by instinct, you turned to him.
Max was already leaning against the edge of the court, waiting. You jogged over, throwing an arm around his shoulders in a side hug, your other hand still gripping your racket. He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, murmuring something only you could hear that made you laugh.
A few minutes later, with the trophy presentation complete, you were ushered off for post-match interviews. Max, however, remained a few feet behind, the golden trophy now in his hands. He held it up, inspecting it from every angle with childlike fascination.
You glanced over your shoulder mid-question, catching him tilting the trophy as if trying to decipher its weight. Your lips twitched, holding back a laugh as you return your focus to the reporter.
As the interview wrapped up, Max sauntered over, the trophy gleaming under the stadium lights. He stepped into frame, holding it up proudly.
“I’ll be putting this next to my WDC trophy,” he declared with a grin. “Right on my Red Bull fridge. So I can show you off every time I stream.”
The reporter laughed, clearly charmed, while you shook your head, unable to hide your smile. “It’s my trophy, Max.”
“Yeah, but it’ll look good next to mine,” he countered, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You rolled your eyes playfully but leaned into him anyway. “Fine. But if I find one of your helmets near it, I’m moving it to the garage.”
“Deal,” Max said, kissing your temple as the cameras clicked, capturing the moment of your easy banter and undeniable adoration for one another.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The club was alive with neon lights and the thumping bass of music that seemed to shake the very walls. Somewhere amidst the chaos, you were perched precariously on a booth, one hand clutching a half-empty cocktail and the other raised in the air like a trophy.
"My boyfriend!" you declared, your voice carrying over the music, "is the best driver in the world! Better than all of you!"
A few amused cheers erupted from nearby tables, while Max, standing a few feet away, struggled to suppress his laughter. He had won his fourth title just hours ago, and the night had been nothing short of euphoric. Now, watching you teeter on the edge of the booth, tipsy and unapologetically proud, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming fondness.
You swayed slightly, turning to point at a group of confused tourists. "You don’t even know! He’s better than… than…" you paused dramatically, "everyone!"
Max finally intervened, his grin wide as he approached and effortlessly lifted you off the booth and onto his shoulder.
"Alright, princess," he said, his voice tinged with amusement, "time to call it a night."
"But I wasn’t done!" you protested, your words slurred but determined.
"Oh, you’ve made your point," he chuckled, weaving through the crowd with you draped over his shoulder. You waved at strangers as he carried you out, their faces a mix of confusion and entertainment.
Outside, the crisp Las Vegas air hit like a splash of cold water. Max flagged down a cab, gently setting you down as he opened the door. You leaned into him, still buzzing with energy, your words tumbling out faster than your brain could process.
"You’re amazing, you know? Four titles! Four! That’s more than three!"
Max shook his head, guiding you into the cab with a smirk. "Good math skills."
In the backseat, you snuggled up against him, your head resting on his shoulder as the cab pulled away. The driver, an older man with a weathered face, glanced at the two of you in the rearview mirror.
"All this racing nonsense," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Clogging up the city. Nobody could get anywhere. It’s not worth it. A waste of time and money."
You perked up, your drunken indignation flaring to life. "Excuse me, but—"
Before you could launch into a spirited defense of Max’s honor, he gently clamped a hand over your mouth.
"She’s had a bit to drink," he explained with a laugh, his tone light as he leaned forward to engage the driver. "But honestly, I get it. The traffic is a nightmare."
You glared at him, your muffled protests lost beneath his hand. The driver nodded in agreement, his rant continuing as Max shot you an amused look. When he finally released you, you huffed and crossed your arms, but the irritation quickly melted away as you looked at him.
"You’re lucky I love you," you mumbled, your words soft but heartfelt.
Max’s smile softened, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I know."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The paddle court was alive with the satisfying smack of the ball against paddles and the occasional squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Max grinned at you from the other side of the net, his posture loose but determined. The same couldn’t be said for the man perched stiffly on the bleachers, phone in hand and eyebrows furrowed—Jos Verstappen.
“Why did we have to bring him along?” you muttered under your breath as you adjusted your grip on the paddle.
Max shrugged, his expression sheepish. “He’s my dad.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Could’ve fooled me. He hasn’t looked up from his phone once.”
Max chuckled, his gaze flicking between you and the ball. “He’s not exactly here for moral support.”
Despite the shadow of Jos looming nearby, you focused on Max. He wasn’t the best at racket sports—his coordination on the court wasn’t quite as sharp as it was behind the wheel—but that didn’t stop you from letting him cheat.
When he sent the ball barely over the net, you dove for it, purposefully missing. “Wow, amazing shot, Max!” you exclaimed dramatically, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up.
He snorted, trying and failing to hide his laugh. “You’re terrible at pretending.”
“Am I?” you teased, tossing the ball back to him with a wink. “I’m just here to make sure you’re having fun, Verstappen. And so far, you owe me a thank-you.”
Max grinned, his eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart ache—in the best way.
But the moment shattered when Jos’s curt voice cut through the air. “Max, keep it down.”
Max’s smile faltered, and you felt a spark of irritation flare in your chest. You turned toward the bleachers, narrowing your eyes at the older man, who didn’t even glance up. The weight of the racket in your hand suddenly felt a lot more tempting.
“Don’t,” Max warned softly, seeing the look on your face.
“I wasn’t going to,” you lied, returning to the game with a forced smile. You leaned into teasing Max more, making jokes and exaggerating your misses just to hear him laugh again. For the rest of the match, you kept him distracted, determined to bring back the lighthearted mood.
When the game finally ended, the two of you grabbed your bags and walked toward the parking lot. Jos, of course, was ahead of you, his back rigid as ever.
You poked Max in his side, catching him off guard. He jolted, letting out an honest-to-God squeak as he swatted at your hand.
“Yn!” he exclaimed, half-laughing, half-scolding.
You grinned mischievously, about to poke him again when Jos’s voice carried over his shoulder. “Max, act your age.”
Your smile dropped, replaced by a scowl as you clenched your paddle. “Oh, I’ll act my age, alright…” you muttered, raising the racket slightly as you glared at Jos’s back.
Max grabbed your wrist just in time, holding you back with a chuckle that was more nervous than amused. “Yn, no.”
You huffed, letting him take the paddle from you, though you still muttered under your breath, “Would’ve been worth it.”
Max leaned closer, his voice soft with amusement. “You’re going to get us both grounded.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, slipping your hand into his as you walked. “But if he says one more thing—”
“You’ll behave,” Max interrupted, squeezing your hand with a grin.
You shot him a playful glare but couldn’t help smiling when he leaned down to kiss your temple. Even with Jos around, Max made everything better.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The chandelier above twinkled like stars in the dimly lit ballroom, the soft hum of a string quartet filling the space. Max’s hand rested securely on your waist as the two of you swayed in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples in sparkling attire. You’d both lost track of time, the countdown to midnight still a distant murmur in the background.
“Another year done,” you murmured, leaning closer into Max’s chest. The warmth of his embrace and the faint scent of his cologne made the busy room feel like it was only the two of you.
He hummed in agreement, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of your dress. “And another title for me. Think you can keep up next year, or am I leaving you behind?”
You tilted your head up, grinning. “Max, please. I’ve won more trophies this year than you’ve had podiums.”
He let out a quiet laugh, pressing his lips to your temple. “Always so humble, my love.”
Your eyes flicked across the room, pausing on a familiar figure standing near the bar. The sight of her brought an immediate smirk to your face. “Oh, look who’s here,” you said, nodding in the direction of one of your fiercest competitors.
Max followed your gaze, his brow lifting slightly. “And what about her?”
“I can’t wait to destroy her on the court next season,” you whispered, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Max let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulled you even closer. “Of course you’re plotting your next win at a gala. I should’ve known.”
“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” you teased, poking him lightly in the chest.
“I’m always impressed,” he said softly, his teasing tone fading into something warmer as he looked down at you. “Even when you’re insufferably competitive.”
You felt your cheeks warm at his words, and before you could fire back, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to the top of your head. The world around you seemed to blur for a moment, the music and chatter melting into the background as the two of you continued to sway, lost in each other.
It didn’t matter how competitive you were or how much the media buzzed about the two of you. In moments like this, it was just Max and you—two people who found peace in each other’s arms.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The cold mountain air bit at your cheeks, the snow crunching beneath your boots as you adjusted the snowboard strapped to your feet. The slopes ahead glistened under the pale winter sun, a postcard-perfect view that would’ve been more enjoyable if you weren’t already frustrated.
Max stood a few feet away, leaning casually on his ski poles, the picture of effortless elegance. He watched you struggle to maneuver with an unmistakable softness in his eyes, his lips quirking into a faint smile as you hopped and waddled in place, trying to shift your weight on the snowboard.
“I look like a penguin, don’t I?” you muttered, catching the amused glint in his gaze.
He chuckled, his voice warm despite the chill in the air. “You said it, not me.”
You shot him a playful glare but couldn’t hold back your own laughter. “This would be so much easier if I had two sticks like you.”
“Well,” he teased, pushing himself forward effortlessly on his skis, “maybe someone shouldn’t have sprained their wrist wrestling with me last week.”
“That was your fault!” you exclaimed, nearly losing your balance as you jabbed a finger in his direction.
Max raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I wasn’t the one who tried to put me in a headlock.”
“I was winning, and you knew it,” you shot back, grinning despite yourself.
“Sure, sweetheart.” He stopped just in front of you, his expression softening as he reached out to steady you, his gloved hands brushing against your jacket. “Come on, let’s stick to the easier trail today. I don’t want you hurting yourself again.”
You huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “I’m fine, Max. I’ve got this.”
“You can barely move without looking like you’re about to topple over,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Let’s just take it slow.”
“I don’t want to take it slow. I want to go on the harder trail,” you insisted, planting your feet firmly in the snow.
Max shook his head, his eyes crinkling with fond amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you’re annoyingly cautious,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue.
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine as he leaned on his poles. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you with that soft, adoring look that made your heart skip a beat.
“What?” you asked, feeling your cheeks warm despite the cold.
“Nothing,” he said, his smile widening. “You’re just… cute. Like a little penguin.”
You groaned, throwing your head back in mock exasperation. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Not a chance,” he said, stepping closer to press a quick kiss to your forehead before you could protest.
With his help, you managed to waddle your way to the lift, Max staying close by the entire time. Even when you bickered and teased each other, he never let you out of his sight, his protectiveness shining through in every glance and touch.
And though you’d never admit it, you secretly loved how much he cared. Even if it meant sticking to the easy trail and waddling like a penguin a little longer.
As the two of you reached the top of the slope, Max leaned casually on his ski poles, surveying the descent with the calm confidence of someone who knew he was going to ace it. You, however, were mentally preparing yourself for the chaos that was about to ensue.
“Ready?” Max asked, looking over at you with a smirk that somehow managed to be both infuriating and endearing.
“Born ready,” you replied, shifting your weight on your snowboard as you braced yourself. But just as Max turned his attention to the slope, you reached out and gave him a playful shove.
“Hey—” he started, but the word turned into a startled shout as he lost his balance, falling sideways into the snow with an unceremonious thump.
You burst into laughter, the sound ringing out across the quiet mountain. “Looks like someone wasn’t ready after all!” you teased, hopping awkwardly on your snowboard to start your descent.
Max sat up, brushing snow off his jacket with an incredulous look. “You’re impossible!” he called after you, but his voice held no real annoyance—just a mix of exasperation and affection.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The low hum of the heater filled the living room, mingling with the occasional click of ping-pong balls bouncing off the table. Snow piled against the windowpane, and neither of you had the energy to brave the cold outside. Max leaned lazily against the ping-pong table, spinning his paddle in one hand and smirking at you from across the room.
“So, remind me again,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you examined the table. “This was supposed to be my actual Christmas present?”
Max grinned, shrugging as if he had no idea why you were questioning it. “I thought it’d be funny,” he said, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “You’re always going on about how good you are at everything. I figured I’d give you a chance to back it up.”
“Funny,” you deadpanned, tapping the edge of the paddle against your palm. “And when I wipe the floor with you?”
Max chuckled, motioning for you to serve. “You won’t, but sure. Dream big.”
The first few rounds were casual, a lazy back-and-forth as you both found your rhythm. But it wasn’t long before the teasing started.
“Is that all you’ve got?” you called, smashing the ball past him with a flourish.
“That was lucky,” Max shot back, jogging after the ball as it bounced off the wall.
“Lucky? Please. That was pure skill.”
The game quickly escalated into a battle of wits and reflexes, each point followed by exaggerated gloating or playful accusations of cheating. You were winning—handily, in fact—but Max didn’t seem to mind. He was too busy laughing at your over-the-top celebrations.
Finally, after one particularly brutal rally where you scored yet again, Max narrowed his eyes at you. “Alright, you asked for it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked suspiciously, but before you could react, Max lunged forward, reaching across the table to swat the ball out of midair.
“Illegal move!” you shouted, but he was already laughing, darting away as you rounded the table after him.
“Oh, come on!” he said between gasps of laughter. “You were getting cocky!”
“Yeah, well, now you’re going to pay for it!”
The chase circled around the living room, your paddle in hand as Max ducked and weaved like a man trying to outrun his fate. When you finally caught him, you jabbed him lightly in the side with the paddle, triumphant.
“Victory is mine,” you declared, panting as you both collapsed onto the couch.
Max grinned, brushing his hair back from his face. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
You laughed, climbing on his chest. ���You’re just mad you lost on your own Christmas joke.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, wrapping an arm around you. “But you’re still stuck with me. Ping-pong table and all.”
You shook your head, leaning down and pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. “Guess I’ll allow it.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The rhythmic thwack of tennis balls echoed through the indoor sports club, blending with the distant chatter of other athletes and the hum of overhead lights. You were on court six, your movements precise and deliberate despite the late hour. The yellow blur of the tennis ball moved in sync with the practiced swing of your racket, a steady reminder of why you dominated your sport.
On the other side of the glass, Max sat in one of the plastic chairs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his eyes following every movement. His friends had left an hour ago, urging him to join them for drinks, but he’d declined. Watching you practice was far more interesting, and besides, he liked being here for you.
You glanced at him between volleys, catching the quiet focus etched into his expression. He wasn’t scrolling on his phone or checking his watch. He was just… watching. You hid a smile, returning your attention to the ball.
When your session wrapped up, you walked over to the bench and started packing your bag. Max stood, making his way toward you.
“You look like a puppy just now,” you teased, not looking up. “All wide-eyed and quiet, following the ball like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.”
“Is that so?” Max replied, his voice amused.
You nodded, zipping up your bag before finally meeting his gaze. “Despite being a proud cat dad, you have strong puppy energy sometimes.”
Max shrugged, standing close behind you now. “Maybe I’m both,” he said, leaning in. His lips brushed your cheek in a quick, affectionate kiss.
“Max!” you protested, laughing as you twisted away. “I’m sweaty, don’t do that!”
He only grinned, ignoring your protests as he kissed your cheek again, then your temple, and once more on your jawline for good measure.
“Seriously!” you giggled, swatting at him lightly.
“I don’t care,” he said softly, pulling you into a hug that left no room for argument. “You’re my sweaty puppy-cat energy girlfriend, and I’m good with that.”
You groaned playfully, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you love me,” he said with a satisfied grin, grabbing your bag for you.
You didn’t argue as he slung it over his shoulder and took your hand, leading you toward the exit. The night was cold and crisp outside, but Max’s warmth was constant, a reminder that no matter the setting—on a racetrack, on a tennis court, or anywhere in between—you were stuck and couldn’t get rid of this stupid silly blond man.
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