#even if I’d described him with useful words

[teamfortraven]

Caine flusters you to death idk

^ The exact file name on my computer, by the way.

This is an SFW tickle fic! Don't read if you don't like it. Also shout out to the three different references to the TADC fan song "No Exit" that I put in here :]

2,571 words.

I paced angrily out of the main room in the tent, hands curled into fists at my sides as I left my fellow circus members behind. There were no words that could describe how frustrated I was, how confused, and, though I’d never admit it, how scared. My eye twitched at the familiar sound of a long coat flapping behind me.

“Leave me alone, Caine”, I snapped, continuing towards my room. The floating ring master was not so easily deterred and continued after me, however, keeping up with no effort.

“Come on, (Y/N), it was just one time! I know you don’t like the dark, but-“

“Correction.” I spun on my heels to face him, becoming even more annoyed with the way he loomed above me in superiority. “I hate the dark. There is nothing I hate more than the dark. And what did you do?” I crossed my arms and looked at him expectantly. He blinked as he stared at me, a few seconds passing, as if he had to process that I was actually demanding an answer from him.

“It was an adventure for everyone!” He immediately defended himself, still in that jovial tone he used to announce everything. “Not everyone is going to agree on what type of adventure they want to go on-“

“Anything! Anything else!” I threw my hands up in exasperation as he looked shocked that I had cut him off. “Anything but a power outage! I can’t even begin to tell you how horrifying that entire experience was!” I made drastic hand motions at him as I rambled angrily, his hands falling to his sides limply as if he was at a loss for words. “These adventures are supposed to be fun and distracting, Caine! You failed.” I pointed a finger at him accusingly, hoping to really drive the point home.

He gasped in exaggeration, putting a hand to his chest. “I… failed?” His eyes glanced around rapidly, his thoughts clearly racing. I nodded in affirmation; there wasn’t much I could do to show him how serious I was, but hurting his ego definitely helped me feel better.

“Yep, you failed — you had one job, Caine, and you couldn’t even do that right.” I began turning, throwing him a look over my shoulder as he continued to spiral. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be in my room until I feel better.” I paused, giving him one last angry glare. “Which will probably be a very long time.” He locked eyes with me one more time before I turned and opened my door a few feet down the hall, making sure to slam it.

I sighed and fell backwards onto my bed once I had locked it, eyes squeezing shut. I hardly ever liked Caine’s adventures… some of the others seemed to genuinely enjoy them, but I did not. All they were to me were distractions; they were definitely something I appreciated and subconsciously looked forward to, given their quality of keeping our brains from actively melting into goop, but they were never fun for me, especially this time around. Running around in the dark for god knows how long trying to find a generator sounded like something straight out of a horror game, and he thought that would be fun?

“Stupid dentist model”, I muttered, eyes slowly opening.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” I gasped and sat up in shock as I was met with his multicolored irises; he was floating right above me, and a little too close for comfort, at that.

“Caine, what the hell are you doing in here?” I demanded, slowly calming down from the unwelcome surprise. “I wanted to be alone, if I hadn’t made that clear!”

“Well…” He floated back a few feet, twiddling with his thumbs as he glanced away. He almost looked… nervous? “I felt bad for how I made you feel with the last adventure, so…” He looked back up at me, arms folding behind his back. “I figured I would come and fix the problem!”

“What…?” I paused, eyes narrowing at him. “Fix how?”

“By comforting you, of course!” He floated a little closer, his confidence seeming to return. I watched him nervously; ‘comfort’ could be practically anything in his book.

“You’re avoiding my question”, I said quickly, my eyes never leaving him as I withdrew my arms close to my chest. “What are you planning on doing?”

I merely blinked at him as he halted right where he was and put his arms out invitingly… oh.

“A… hug?” I scoffed without thinking about it, trying to collect my words as he looked taken aback by my reaction. “Look, Caine, I uhh, really appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine. In fact, umm, I already am fine!” I forced a smile, eyebrows furrowed together regardless. I felt myself begin to sweat as he glanced me over; it was nerve-wracking knowing he was analyzing every single part of my body language.

“It would appear you’re lying, my dear; no need! I can surely have you feeling better in no time!” I sighed in defeat as he put his arms back out completely, nodding at me. It looked like he wasn’t going away until he was sure he had fixed what he had done. In all honesty, I had already forgiven him; he was strangely charming in his own goofy little way. I really couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Plus, I guess I wouldn’t mind a hug…

“Alright”, I finally muttered, putting my arms out in turn.

I squeaked in surprise as he suddenly picked me up, squeezing me and subsequently cradling me in his lap. I hesitantly looked up at him; sometimes I wished he blinked. I slowly wrapped my arms around him, hugging him back. It was… nice. But after only a brief moment, he pulled back, still keeping me in his arms, studying me.

“What are you doing?” I was more confused than anything, but the sentence still began with a stutter, which again appeared to ring alarm bells in his head.

“Hugging does not appear to be enough, so I’m just testing something to see if this method is an option”, he said blatantly. I jumped as he suddenly poked me in the side; I immediately covered the area on reflex, my other hand grasping his wrist. I realized my mistake too late as I looked up and saw him appear to smile.

“Ah! Perfect! Then I should have no trouble cheering you up at all!”

“Wait!” I said in panic as he suddenly positioned his hand in a clawing motion just above my stomach, struggling to get out of his grip as he held me against him.

“You’re confusing me a bit”, he said, cocking his head to the side. “You ask for me to stop, and yet you’re still smiling. Having some mixed emotions?”

I realized I was, in fact, smiling, which was apprehensive to the idea of what he was planning on doing, and also just from nervousness.

“I’m just… I…” I struggled to find words, too flustered to outright say anything.

“You’re just… what?” He paused before he started slowly wiggling his fingers just above me, to my horror. “Maybe this will help you speak your mind?”

“Wait, no, I just-“ I shrieked as he tapped my stomach a few times, hands flying to grasp his wrist once again. “I’m just embarrassed! This is just really embarrassing, okay?” I rushed the words as he showed no signs of stopping, holding back nervous giggles.

“You do appear to be embarrassed, yet also conflicted. Going to push my hand away or just stay posed like that?” He stared at me expectantly, his hand frozen against me. I glanced around, fingers twitching against his arm as I struggled to accept that that was true. It had been a very, very long time since anyone had ever given me affection like this before. What was worse, that didn’t even account for the affection I probably lacked before I joined the circus. Given how easily flustered I was, it was obvious this was all foreign to me. I forced myself to look him in the eyes, only curling in on myself even more as I could tell the bastard was still reading me like a book.

“I…” I swallowed nervously. “I just… I’ve never had…” I found myself unable to look at him, or even continue speaking. There was something buried that felt dangerously close to the surface that I just couldn’t remember – something painful. My smile left my face.

“Oh, sweetheart…” My eyes widened at the sudden nickname, head swiveling to look at him.

“You don’t have to admit it!” I hid my face in my hands as he began slowly dragging a single finger across the front of my body in lazy patterns. “It’s obvious this is a… sensitive subject for you.” I could’ve screamed when he made that stupid pun, only leaning further into him in an attempt to hide.

“If you tell anyone…” I started, muffled by my hands. I shrieked as he suddenly squeezed my side, interrupting me.

“Tell anyone what, my little possession?” The mocking tone of his voice took me by surprise.

“Tell anyone that I… e-enough with the nicknames!” I squeaked, kicking my legs in reflex as he traced across my ribs.

“Tell anyone that you like being tickled?” He said the word with such ease that I gasped, staring at him. He looked down at me for a moment and I could see the gears in his head turning as he read my expression. Then, appearing to smirk (as much as giant teeth can), he snapped his fingers.

“Oh! Embarrassed by the word, hmm?” I rapidly shook my head, to which he only continued to stare, obviously not buying it. “So you are!” He sounded delighted, and I groaned, hiding my face again.

“So don’t say it!” I muttered, my voice sharper than I meant for it to be. I became incredibly suspicious as he went silent, so I looked up at him again. That same blank gaze was returned to me, unmoving.

“Tickle.”

I blinked in surprise before I attempted to sternly tell him off. “H-Hey! What did I just-“

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I screeched as he suddenly dug his fingers into my ribs, his other hand that was supporting me scratching under my arm. I struggled to pry his hands from my body, finding that he wouldn’t move at all. I quickly fell into helpless laughter, legs kicking.

“C-Caihaine stahap!”

“Stop what?” He said nonchalantly, feigning ignorance.

“You know exAHACTLY WHAHAT-“ I nearly shrieked as he pinched between my side and hip, squirming in his lap.

“Oh! Is this a bad spot?” I nearly fell into hysterics as he repeated the action as fast as possible.

“Just not- NOT THEHERE-“ I struggled to finish a single sentence, especially when he started rapidly switching places, a loose yet determined grip on me to prevent me from moving very much.

“Where’s this loud voice when you’re performing, my little superstar?” If I could’ve cursed him out for the snide comments he continuously made, I would have.

“Quit it!” I struggled to annunciate through a stream of giggles and my flustered complexion, his hand trailing down to my stomach, drawing more bubbly noises from me.

“Oh, you circus members are always SO delightfully predictable”, he mused, his hand jumping around to a few different spots, gauging my reactions with robotic precision. “Always leaving your weak spots open!”

“Y-You’re so bahackhanded!” I squeaked before finding myself thrashing in his grip and practically snorting.

“Hmmm, I have to disagree there. I’m much more front handed when it comes to playing with my performers! Are you seeing my point of view here?” He suddenly stopped only to wiggle his fingers in front of my face, eliciting nervous giggles as I sank even further into his lap in a subconscious attempt to keep them away.

“No response? Well, at least I know how to make you smile, right?” He moved to squeeze both of my sides at once before spidering; I somehow seemed even more trapped now than I was before, so I opted instead to cover my heated face rather than attempt to escape.

“Careful not to blush too hard… your facial polygons are getting artifacts, dear.”

“Ahand whose fault is thahat?!” I exclaimed, squealing as his hands began traveling up and down, definitely feeling the artifacts forming now if I hadn’t before.

“I’m only cheering you up! You’re the one that chose to be this sensitive…”

“IT WASN’T A CHOICE!” I protested through laughter. It was more than embarrassing to know this AI was managing to tease me into oblivion, able to manipulate my reactions like a puppet on a string. Worst of all, he was cheering me up, and pretty soon I would have to genuinely ask for it to end before he got suspicious-

“So, having second thoughts? Is this method working? Five star review?” He continued reciting practical nonsense, his fingers not missing a beat on wiggling into any hyper-sensitive areas they could find.

I realized it was pointless trying to cover it up; he already knew I was enjoying it. I’d just be prolonging the amount of sarcastic questioning I’d experience, which he’d then accuse me of also liking. I struggled to think of words, any words, while he practically played me like an instrument.

“Okay, OKAYHAY! IT WOHORKED ALRIGHT? NOW STAHAP!” I was surprised when he did finally pause, drawing me just a bit closer, those grotesque eyes within his jaws studying me briefly before he scooped me up, setting me back on the bed and then zooming into the air in front of me.

“I’m just messing with you! Of course it worked! That method has yet to fail me!” I wondered how many other performers he had done this to when he accidentally upset them…

While I was lost in thought, he floated closer, and I came back to attention to find him staring inches from my face. I drew back a bit in surprise before he spoke.

“Still embarrassed by it? Don’t be!” He punctuated his exclamation with a fancy spin. “Just don’t think about the fact that I could hold this above your head forever and there’s nothing you can do about it – it’s that simple!”

I groaned and set my flustered face in my hands… At least the artifacts that formed seemed to have mended themselves. “Right, Caine, that simple…”

I felt a hand gingerly set on my shoulder and looked back up.

“That… was a joke. I won’t tell anyone, ringmaster’s promise!” He nodded to himself and I smiled slightly.

“...Thank you.”

“Anyways, now that you’re a blushy mess rather than a depressed one, I’ll be on my way! You know where to find me!” He glanced about a dozen different ways, which was concerning but not unexpected, before poofing out of my room with a small eruption of cartoonish smoke.

I laughed a bit to myself after he left, contemplating the whole experience. While he struggled to understand things that were inherently human, it was obvious that he was trying… and, at the very least, I wouldn’t complain if he tried cheering me up that way again. Just as long as the last adventure never repeated itself…

#sorry if the dialogue flows a bit unaturally btw #im autistic and often nonverbal because i just never know what to say #i can do descriptions i just struggle with talking :'] #also IN TIME FOR THE EP DROP TODAY BAYBEEEE #tickles #sfw tickling community #the amazing digital circus caine #tadc caine #NEW TV MAN CONTENT SOON BTW im still VERY hyperfixated #just had this sitting as a draft for months now so

[elodieunderglass]

Swanfriend, clicking the photo absolutely does not make it clear that it’s the same person :D It’s just two heads with bread coloured hair.

(In reference to this post in which 20,000 people have come to absolutely no helpful conclusions about my husband’s bread-colored hair)

It’s a good thing that he returned to the castle in his lizard fashion, because I clearly never would’ve found the bastard

#even if I’d described him with useful words #the people on the receiving end have a high chance of completely disagreeing with me #“”ahh mais non. #oh non nous n'avons vu aucun Anglais aux cheveux bruns. peut-être est-il passé par la fenêtre... comme ils le font si souvent. #On devrait lui parler de ce britannique aux cheveux châtains ? #oh non ne t'inquiète pas. elle voulait un homme plus sombre. et qui pourrait lui en vouloir. #bien sûr. si elle voulait quelqu'un de pratiquement blond elle l'aurait dit.

[littlebirdy0301]

talking to my not-trans friend who’s also my most recent ex-

started talking bout Trans Vibes, & after talking to him I’m like “damn maybe I should be t4t when I start dating again cause it’d be really nice to be with someone who Just Gets It” and also doesn’t have shit responses to anything trans related I talk about

#I love him but he never seemed to have much empathy for my trans experience tbh #Like he would listen and try to understand but I could always tell he just never fully Got It and would neither empathize nor sympathize #And some things he’d say I would get the vibe that he almost thought it was somewhat of a choice to feel the way I did about things #Like not a choice to be trans or have dysphoria. But a choice to be affected by dysphoria/my trans experiences when I’d be hurt by them #Like letting myself feel upset by dysphoria and transphobia was a choice I was making & that choice was part of the problem #Also another thing that I don’t blame him for b/c I never brought it up- but it still would kinda hurt me a lil- #he never corrected anyone that misgendered me #Like. His own cishet bestfriend would correct his other friends that messed up. But he wouldn’t #And I understand that correcting ppl isn’t fun and I don’t correct ppl for myself… but I correct when it’s other trans people #And most other trans people will correct when other trans ppl get misgendered. And so will good allies. #And it felt a little shitty when he would let people call me his girlfriend & use the wrong pronouns & words to describe me #Anyways. Next person I date I hope they understand more #But even if they don’t. my new dating requirement is “not afraid to correct people that misgender me” #Looking back it feels ridiculous I never talked to him about it. It’s basic respect trans people deserve from partners/those close to us #Idk maybe I’m t4t now lmaoo. less hastle

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff

[augustinewrites]

satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know cw: suggestive content, mdni

“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.

“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”

you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine. 

“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”

“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”

now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things. 

he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave. 

there’s only one thing he can’t do. 

“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids. 

_____

“this isn’t funny, shoko!” 

“you’re right.”

“thank you—”

“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.” 

she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense. 

“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”

“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”

“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”

“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”

“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”

“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers. 

well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.

he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.” 

_____

NOT GOJO 

[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes

[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!

[shoko]: me too.

[shoko]: can you send videos?

[nanami]: I would also like to see videos. 

[you]: sure. but why the interest?

[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements

[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums. 

[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older. 

[shoko] yeah that ^

[you]: fine i’ll send videos.

______

the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park. 

“i really think—”

“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”

“but if he uses the shadows—”

you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately. 

“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.

the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads. 

you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor. 

“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”

the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces. 

“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest. 

“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—

“no! i’m taking the video!” 

fuck.

satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.

he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

“watch and learn, kids.”

he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.

the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—

“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”

sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.

as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.

“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”

“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”

“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission. 

“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”

so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own. 

he’ll get the hang of it eventually.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[halfvalid]

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 

“Not really what I’m into.” 

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.” 

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 

“You always look nice.” 

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 

“Better how?” 

“You can probably run in it.” 

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 

“Because of… clothing?” 

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 

“Let me see.” 

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” 

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“Am not.” 

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 

“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 

Your breath caught. 

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 

© halfvalid 2023

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #opla #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x reader #opla x reader #kiki writes!

[reidmotif]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Reader and Spencer are known to be a "tame" couple at work. They get fed up and decide to change how people see them.

Request: Reader and Spencer (in an established public relationship) where they don't do any PDA and you can hardly tell they're a couple. Reader and Spencer get offended, and decide to fool around to get caught.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, established relationship, semi-rough sex, dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

Word Count: 4.8k

Dating Spencer Reid, in a word, could honestly be described as a dream. 

When I’d started a career at the BAU, the last thing on my mind was dating, let alone dating my coworker, but Spencer Reid had subtly woven himself into the corners of my heart with his idiosyncrasies and musings, all without my awareness- and when he'd asked me out? Saying ‘yes’ was the easiest thing I’d ever done my entire life. 

He was ridiculously old-fashioned, and I loved it. He insisted on dinner dates and opening doors for me at any possible opportunity, and I was happy to let it happen. He was a gentleman at every turn, and made me feel special in ways no one had before. If I wasn’t already hopelessly infatuated with the man prior to our relationship, I certainly was now.

A year of dating, a year of loving Spencer Reid, and I honestly couldn’t see my life without him. We’d grown our lives around each other in little ways at first, and it resulted in us being tangled up in the sweetest way imaginable. 

And while my memory isn’t as capable as my boyfriend’s, I can recall in perfect clarity about how fucking good he is in bed. It shouldn’t have surprised me like it had the first time we had sex, but when he had me pinned down to his mattress, pounding into me unlike anyone before him, touching me whilst whispering dirty nothings in my ear, I knew I was a goner. It was simply another facet of Spencer Reid that further cemented my enduring captivation to the man. 

Of course, there were rules when it came to our relationship, considering that even for a blissfully happy couple, we still worked together. Spencer loved having his hands on me, whether it was innocent or not, but when it came to the BAU and public displays of affection, there was a mutual understanding between the two of us that some things were simply kept private. 

Which is why as we stood in the bullpen, side-by-side, we exchanged horrified looks when the surprise seminar that morning was about “inappropriate workplace relationships”. To our knowledge, we’d always kept the romance to a minimum in the office, stealing a kiss here and there when no one was around, or a squeeze of the hand, but nothing beyond that. However, as the moderator for the training began, we both sighed a breath of collective relief as she brought up some suspiciously specific scenarios, realizing today’s seminar was not in fact about us, but rather our coworkers, known for their raunchy telephone escapades, two of our coworkers who were most definitely not in a relationship. 

As we trickled out of the room, exchanging giggles about the very awkward display we were made to watch just now, a very mortified Penelope Garcia approached us.

“Who blabbed?” She asked, adorably frantic as Spencer and I simply smiled and shrugged. 

“Wasn’t us.” Spencer said, a bit and gesturing to me and him. He put his hand on my shoulder and I instantly felt relaxed with the comforting weight of him on me. I gave my own chuckle, naturally bringing my hand up to touch Spencer’s as I responded to Penelope. 

“I mean, you and Derek aren’t exactly quiet about what you do over the phone.” I said, a little mischievously. “I mean remember when Strauss picked up and-”  I started, only to be met with Penelope placing a distressed finger over my lips, hurrying to silence me before I finished my sentence. 

“Shh! I thought we promised to never speak of that godforsaken incident ever again!” Penelope whisper-shrieked, only to be met with my grin. 

“My bad.” I say, while trying to soothe Penelope. I then got a little serious, moving from Spencer’s subtle touch to get closer to her.  “It’s not that bad, Pen. I’m sure everyone will forget in due time.” I said, in my most assuring tone. Unfortunately, Penelope didn’t seem very swayed. 

Derek walked to where we were standing and chatting,  coming to protectively wrap his arm around a very miserable looking Penelope. 

“Did I just hear you say ‘it isn’t that bad’?” Derek said, using air quotes for his imitation of me, laughing as he pulled Penelope closer to him. He continued, “Because from where I was, you and boy genius looked pretty worried for a second.” 

Spencer answered a little defensively, “I mean, obviously.” He replied. “We’re the only ones in the BAU in a public relationship and it’s a surprise seminar on inappropriate relationships, why wouldn’t we think it’s about us?” He explained, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head a little. 

“Because you two don’t even look like a couple!” Penelope said, still sorrowful from her unexpected callout. “Of course it’d never be about you two!” 

“What?” I say, now matching Spencer’s defensive tone from before. “It totally could be about us! And we do look like a couple.” I say, crossing my arms and standing beside him now. 

“Sorry pretty girl.” Derek speaks up, “But Penelope is right. I don’t even think I’ve seen the two of you hold hands or kiss around any of us.” 

Spencer sputtered a little at that, “Obviously! We’re at the workplace!” He says, in a higher pitched tone, fortifying his stance against Derek’s allegations. "It's common to not show PDA in professional settings."

“True love waits for nothing, Einstein.” Derek teases, and then he laughs again. “Pipe down, Reid. I’m only joking.” Spencer seemed  to retract his opposing stance reluctantly, but then Derek added, “You and (Y/N) shouldn’t worry about being appropriate in the workplace, you know? You’re both more than proper when you're in or out of here.” He said, winking, speaking with a knowing tone. 

Spencer groaned at that, but before he could retort and deny Derek’s assessment of our relationship, Derek whisked Penelope away, presumably to console her further over today’s events, leaving me and Spencer just standing there. He looked a little on edge, and I placed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it softly. I could instantly sense the words, on some level, had gotten to him, and wanted to nip his self-doubt and nervous spiral in the bud before it could even begin. 

“You know he was just joking, right?” I say, speaking gently. 

“I know.” Spencer responded, a little bitterly. “I just.” He stopped, taking a breath before continuing. “I just hate that’s how they see us, you know?” He says, frowning. 

“Well, trust me, Spence.” I say, in an attempt to cheer him up. “This relationship has been anything but proper from the moment we’ve been together.” I say this with a small smirk, hoping he’d catch onto the scandalous undertones of my words, which he did. 

He smiled a little, before murmuring, “Thanks.” I smiled back, and let my hand drop from his shoulder again. 

“C’mon, we got a case.” I say, and he dutifully followed me into the round-table room, the previous interaction with Derek seemingly wiped away from his mind for the rest of the day. 

It wasn’t until a few days later, in the comfort of Spencer’s apartment, (which was honestly ours, at this point) where he spoke up about the incident again. He was lazily playing with my hair as I was sprawled on his couch, my eyes closed with my head in his lap, a documentary of Spencer’s choosing playing in the background. Truthfully, I was more focused on his fingers lightly trailing over my scalp, the sensation lulling me into a state of deep relaxation and serenity, rather than the droning voice of the narrator, until his voice broke my thoughts. 

“I just don’t know why Derek would say that.” He remarked, out of nowhere. 

“Say what, baby?” I say, opening my eyes slightly. I tried to remember if we’d mentioned Derek at all tonight, and when my memory came up short, I squinted, trying to think, “What are we talking about, again?” I attempted to actually look at him from my lower angle, reading his expression for any clues. 

“You know.” He says, continuing to play with the silky strands of my loose hair, “The thing about us being a boring couple.” 

Memories of the interaction came to mind, and I nodded and let out a noise of realization. “Ah, yeah. From the sexual harassment seminar.” I closed my eyes again, and laid back in his lap. “What about it, love?” 

“It didn’t bother you?” Spencer commented, and I opened my eyes yet again, to see the face of a man who clearly hadn’t brushed off the comment like I thought he had, days ago. 

“I mean, not really, baby.” I say, carefully, trying to not offend him. “But it’s okay if you felt bothered- but I really do think Derek didn’t mean anything by it.” I say, moving out of his lap so I could better see his face. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He says, quirking his mouth to the side.  “I just hate that they think we’re boring or-” 

“Even though we both know we definitely aren’t?” I say, laughing a bit. 

“Exactly.” He responds, with a little bit of a smile. “I just wish we could somehow, I don’t know. Stick it to them? Does that sound petty?” He says, chuckling now, and rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. 

“Not at all.” I say, quickly. “But it’s not like we can just, you know, start sucking face in the bullpen.” I joke, with a giggle. 

“That we cannot.” He replies, his mood seemingly a little more uplifted from when we began our conversation. “Still.” He says, pursing his lips. 

An idea came to my mind, and I grinned a little at the thought of it. I wanted to make my boyfriend feel better, to let him know at the very least nothing about him bored me in the slightest. 

“Spence.. what if we did anyway?” I say, coming closer to him with an excited lilt in my words. 

“Make out in front of all of our colleagues?” Spencer replies, with a chuckle. “(Y/N), I love you, but no way.”  He says, immediately shutting me down, but I shook my head. 

“No, like more than that.” I respond, quickly, as the gears in my head begin to turn. “What if we like.. pretend to have sex in a closet, let them think they know what’s going on in there, and walk out, totally unscathed.” I continue, a playful glint in my eyes.

It sounded absolutely crazy, but I could tell he was definitely considering it, especially susceptible to an idea like this one after what had happened a few days ago. 

“But we wouldn’t actually be having sex- right?” Spencer says, cautiously. “Just… pretending?” He adds, adorably, biting his lip. 

“Yeah.” I respond, instantly, soothing his worries. “Trust me, having sex in a closet in a federal building seems like a pretty solid fantasy, but I’m okay with leaving that to our imaginations for now.” I say, smiling a little wildly. “So is that you agreeing to it?” I question, looking at him eagerly. 

“I guess it is.” He says, the look on his face now matching the enthusiasm on my own, and he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I immediately melted into him, moving to straddle his lap, smiling into each press of his lips against mine. His hands went to my hips, a broken moan escaping him as I felt myself move against a fast-forming bulge underneath me. He breathlessly pulled back, licking his lips. 

“Mm." He said, breathing a little heavier now. "What would you say to a practice round for our pretend session tomorrow- you know, just to get it right?” He murmurs, feeling his cocky grin against my lips. 

“Do you even have to ask?” I retort, smirking. 

My words barely left my mouth before he flipped me onto the couch, leaving me giggling delightfully and sighing with pleasure, as I felt him start a trail of wet, hot kisses down my neck, eliciting soft moans and whimpers that only spurred him on to do more to me. 

I closed my eyes with a dazed grin on my face as he continued his actions, knowing he’d take care of me tonight.  Spencer Reid, without a doubt,  was definitely the best boyfriend I’d ever had. 

That morning in his apartment, Spencer was all smiles, even more touchy than he was normally if that was possible. He languidly wrapped his arms around my waist as I brushed my teeth, placing little kisses on the back of my neck as I tried not to laugh with toothpaste in my mouth.  

“Someone’s happy today.” I spoke, or at least attempted to speak, whilst he  attacked any exposed skin of mine with his soft lips. 

“Mm.” He grumbled deeply behind me, never once letting up on the task he’d delegated to himself: to somehow kiss every inch of my body before we even left the apartment.

“Maybe I’m excited about what we’ll be doing today.” He replies, clearly very satisfied with what we’d decided the previous night. 

There was a closet in Quantico, just off the hallways. It wasn’t an active hallway bustling with people, but oftentimes agents would come and go through there, and we both decided it provided just enough privacy so that people wouldn’t actually try to come into the closet- but open enough that at least one or two people were bound to hear us, and hopefully ease any concerns anyone had about Spencer and I being a “proper” couple. 

I giggled. “You know Spence.” I move away a little to spit my toothpaste out and rinse my mouth. “You’re a bit more of an exhibitionist than I pegged you for.” I said, a giggle in my voice. 

He wrapped me up in his arms, bringing me as close as he possibly could. “Sure I am.” He mumbled in a sarcastic tone, kissing the top of my head. 

I smile, speaking into his chest, trying to hold back my laughter.  “I don’t hear you denying it.”

“Shhh.” He said, before letting me go with a smile on his face. “We’re not even actually having sex in the closet. It doesn’t count.” He called out, biting his lip with a boyish smile, the type that made me want to jump his bones here and now.

“Whatever you say!” I respond, with a sing-song voice, flashing him a grin before going to get changed for work. 

Throughout the day, I could see Spencer just itching to carry out our plan. He kept making those eyes at me and I’d shake my head, silently communicating that now wasn’t the time. I could see him grumble and lean back in his desk chair, barely able to focus on his work. I giggled at the thought. My genius boyfriend, unable to do simple tasks because the idea of faking sex to get back at our coworkers rendered him stupid. 

As Emily would say, “An IQ of 187 slashed to 60.” 

Finally, after lunch, and less eyes were on either of us, I subtly caught his gaze, tilting my head in the general direction of the closet, and he nearly leapt from his seat. I silently thanked the Gods above that he didn’t draw anyone’s attention, what with how eager he was acting, as we quietly made our way towards the closet. As soon as we were out of the bullpen, and the long, empty hallways of the BAU, he laughed as he unexpectedly stole a long, passionate kiss from me, his lips pressing against mine insistently. I pulled away after a few seconds, thrilled. 

“What was that for?” I ask, with a dazed grin on my face as he continues to walk me to the place of our imminent rendezvous, nearly dragging me there by a firm grip of his hand in mine. 

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Spencer retorts, smugly. 

“Oh, you can kiss her.” I responded eagerly. “I am not complaining whatsoever. Just curious." I said, squeezing his hand lovingly.

He quickly pressed his lips against mine one more, so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. "I'm just excited, I think." He responded. There was a puerile smile on his face, as he led me further and further away from any of our colleagues and towards our final destination. 

As he opened the closet door, he shot me one final look.

“You’re actually okay with this, right?” He asks, surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his previously excited nature. 

“Second thoughts?” I respond, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no.” He said, laughing. “I just want to be certain that you’re good with this.” He implores, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles absentmindedly. He gave a sigh, biting his lip.  “I know you’re doing this for me and I-” 

I immediately silence him through interruption. “Spencer. I want to do this.” I said, softly. “Please.” I add, conveying that while, yes, this was for him in some roundabout way, pretending like I wasn’t absolutely exhilarated at what we were about to do would be a gross misrepresentation of the situation. 

He seemed to relax at that, grinning a little bit. He let out a little breath of air. 

“Come on.” I urged. “Don’t you wanna make sure the team never calls us dull again?” I said, smirking and egging him on the best I could. 

He nearly shoved me into the closet as he opened the door, with a laugh. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He placed me in front of him, and we stood face to face in the cramped space. I could feel his breath on me, hear the beat of his heart and I knew that there was no part of me that was hesitant about this. On the other hand, Spencer seemed a bit.. confused. His smile faded, before he knit his eyebrows together. I watched him bite his lip, before pressing them together in a straight line. 

“How do you fake sex in a closet?” He paused. “Do we just.. moan?” He said, tentatively, looking to me for direction.

I decided to just go for it, giving an almost pornographic moan. “Oh, yeah! Right there, oh!-” 

He quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. “(Y/N), what the-” 

I removed his hand with a giggle. “Come on." I urged. "Be loud, it’s what’ll work.” I say, grinning, before letting out a higher pitched moan, attempting to recreate what I normally sounded like during sex. “Yes, Spencer! Please! Please!” I moaned, closing my eyes and really getting into what we were attempting to recreate. 

I could feel Spencer watching me, and heard him breathe before moaning out himself. “Yeah, you like that, you whore?” He groaned out, a little flatly, but groaned out convincingly, nonetheless and I could tell he was enjoying himself. 

“Yes! Yes!” I nearly screamed out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” I moaned, in an exaggerated manner. “More, please!” I said, trying to beg just as much as I did when Spencer was actually fucking me. 

We continued this back and forth for a minute or two, and I grinned internally. Anyone who happened to walk past the closet would’ve definitely heard our faked passion, and to be honest, I was into it. Having people know how well Spencer treated me, it made my heart jump, and I could feel myself clenching around nothing at the thought. My eyes were shut, as to immerse myself in the fantasy more, and my moans only got louder, pitchier, more desperate with every passing second. 

It wasn’t a few moments later that I realized that I was the only one making noise, Spencer going quiet, and I noticed the absence of his soft breathing that was there previously. I opened my eyes, to find an incredibly wide-eyed, embarrassed Spencer, looking right at me. 

“Shit, I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said, awkwardly shuffling. “I didn’t think- it’s just- your moans sound so good and-” 

I knit my brows in confusion at his words before my eyes trailed down, revealing the strained fabric of his slacks, his cock tenting inside them at an alarming rate. His eyes met mine as I scanned them back up to look at him, and he stifled a groan. “Fuck.” He murmured. 

“Look, you can just leave.” He said, a little defeated. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I can't go out like this." He said this while already moving away from the door, motioning for me to leave. 

My lips parted as I shook my head. “No.” I whispered, stepping even closer. “Fuck me. Let me help you." I murmur, placing both my hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly, before starting to kiss his neck sweetly, with feather-light touches.  

Spencer rolled his eyes. “(Y/N). Don’t tease me right now. Especially right now.” He whined out, craning his neck as I planted soft kisses on the skin. The rest of his body leaned into me, desperately seeking the relief my touch brought him. 

When I began sucking at a particularly sensitive spot of his, I earned a throaty moan from him, his head thrown back, and his hands grabbing my waist and pressing our bodies flush together. 

"I'm not teasing." I mumble against him. "I want you."

“Fuck. I’m serious. I’m this close to just-” He spoke, his voice low, but I didn’t want him to be logical about this. I wanted this now. I  interrupted his words with a deep, long kiss.

It seemed to work, his lips crashing into mine, over and over again, like this would be the last time we could ever savor the taste of the other again. As grabbed my face, lips moving ferociously over mine, his grip shifted so he could pin me up against the wall. I moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed down, squeezing the fat of my hip unexpectedly, and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, lazily exploring my mouth with his own. When we finally pulled back for air, I whispered against his lips. 

“Do it. Please.” I croaked, already grabbing the fabric of his shirt. “Please, fuck me Spencer. Use me. I need you right now.” I wanted to sound as desperate as I felt, the heat between my legs growing unbearable at this point, my clit already wildly throbbing with need. 

“We’re in a closet. Someone could catch us." He quietly groaned out, but I could see the restraint leaving his body with every moment he looked at me. He looked wrecked already, hair strown about messily, his lips red and swollen, chest moving up and down. The only sounds in the closet at this point were my pants and his heavy breathing to accompany it. He took another look at me, my eyes blown out and pleading for him, and it seemed like every barrier in his body suddenly broke.

With no warning,  he spun me around so my back would be towards him, pushing me up against the wall as he hurriedly worked away the button of my jeans.  I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter with anticipation, and when he worked my underwear down my legs, I could sense that I was already dripping, even though he'd barely touched me.  

He seemed to be doing the same undressing to himself, working at his slacks with his deft fingers, and I whimpered when I felt his heavy cock slot between me, the head of his tip running through my folds. I could feel how needy I was for him in this moment, and he seemed to enjoy the sight of my legs spreading just for him. He leaned over to let his finger trail over my slit, collecting some of my arousal on my finger. My thighs immediately quivered at the sensation, a loud moan escaping my lips. 

I felt him grab the back of my skull, forcing me to bare my face to hip. 

“Open.” He commanded, and my mouth hung open, almost as if I was under a spill. He roughly shoved his finger into my mouth, and I understood, closing my lips around them, swirling my tongue around his digits, praying that he’d fuck me soon. 

“Good girl.” He said, smoothly, and I nearly fell over from how weak he was rendering me, but a steady grip on my hair kept me upright. When his finger was sufficiently cleaned, he removed it and kissed me once more, smashing his lips aggresively into mine. I kissed him back, but in that moment, there was really only one thing I wanted. 

“Spencer, please.” I panted in between his never ending kisses. “I need you inside me.” I moaned, trying to convey the enormity of my desire for him. He chuckled at my pleads, pulling my hair so I’d be forced to look ahead of me instead. The anticipation absolutely killed me, and I brokenly moaned again, about to beg once more before he suddenly thrust into me, eliciting a yelp from my lips, which I immediately swallowed down as he began to jut his hips against mine. 

“That’s it. Go on, take it.” He whispered, roughly. “You were made for this, weren’t you?” He questioned, cruelly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He goaded, going harder and harder with every word he uttered to me in the closet, my desperate attempts to stop my whimpers not being received well by him. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He sneered, continuing to buck against me. “Didn’t you want the whole team to know what a whore you are for me?” 

I tried to keep my restraint, a low mewl escaping my lips, but that seemed to incentivize him to go even faster, the sounds of our skin slapping against each other filling the room, the smell of sex overtaking every one of my senses. 

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear you.” He then groaned once more, and I could feel how bad he wanted this, how badly he wanted me. The thought made me clench around him, which elicited another moan from his mouth. “I want everyone to hear you.” 

It was like a dam broke through me, and in an instant I was moaning, louder than I had that whole time in the closet, my noises marked by a carnal desire for this, for him. 

“Please, oh god. Spencer- I need to cum, please.” I begged, my mouth hanging open as he fucked me dumb. 

He chuckled at my loss of prudence, rewarding me accordingly. He moved his fingers down to where we were joined, beginning to rub fast, tight circles around my clit. 

“Go on, then.” He murmured. His hips never once wavered, and I could feel his grip on my hips, so tight I was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow. “Come for me.” 

I did, nearly toppling down as waves of my orgasm hit me, convulsing in his arms as I registered the feeling of him continuing to slam against me. I braced myself on the wall, letting him take me the way he wanted, and I could hear his broken moans and whimpers echo throughout the closet.

"Fuck. You're so good." He groaned out, and I let out a low whine at that, which transformed into a sob as he bottomed out in me, making me feel so full. In an instant, I could feel warmth flooding my deepest point, his hips beginning to slow down and still entirely. He pulled out of me, still panting. 

“Holy shit.” He murmured, still panting, watching as the evidence of what we’d just done dripped down my thigh. He helped me out of my bent over position as I smiled at him, dazed. 

“Holy shit, indeed.” My voice came out hoarse, scratched up from how loud I’d been screaming for him. 

“Remind me why we don’t do this again?” He said, grinning and breathless. 

“Something about professionalism?” I offered, still absolutely fucked out as I tried to regain some semblance in my appearance. One look at Spencer and I, and it wouldn’t take long to figure out exactly what we’d been doing. 

“Yeah, somehow after that, I don’t really care about professionalism.” He said, before pulling me into one last, idle kiss. He felt safe, and it felt so good to be with him like this. 

“Good.” I murmured, when our lips finally separated. “Because I don’t think I’d be able to survive if we only did this once.” I said, giggling. 

“Wanna go again?” He offered, raising an eyebrow and running a hand through his hair. 

Let’s just say that the closet became a frequent spot of ours after that. And with how loud I was screaming his name every single time? It’s safe to assume everyone else knew about it too. 

EDIT: read part 2 (where they get caught!) here!

sorry about the wait this time around! i try to keep my fics within a week of each other, but i've got some life commitments to attend to now. (unfortunate). i hope you guys enjoyed this though!! <3 likes, reblogs, comments, are all greatly appreciated. thank you for all your support<3

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[1-800-kami]

how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

-

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

-

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

-

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

-

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo comfort

[rinhaler]

𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k

“This seems a little…”

“What?”

“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”

“No!” Maisie objects.

She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.

You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.

You’re content being alone.

“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”

“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”

“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”

“I’ll do it.”

“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.

You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.

“How do you know him?”

“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.

You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.

She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.

“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”

“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”

“Sure.”

“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”

“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.

She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.

However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.

“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.

This is so her.

She’s more excited for this date than you are.

“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”

“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”

“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.

You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.

If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.

As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.

Still so committed to the blindness of the date.

It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.

They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.

Oh God.

You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.

Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.

And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.

You decide to offer him some grace.

Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.

Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.

YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉

Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?

Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.

Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.

You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.

And, really, you’re speechless.

He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.

But you know better.

While he knows nothing.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.

“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.

“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”

“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.

“I’m old fashioned, so—”

“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.

He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.

Your heart pounds furiously.

Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.

YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily

You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?

“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.

With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.

“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.

“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.

“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.

“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.

You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.

“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.

“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.

There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.

“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.

Let go.

You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.

“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.

“No, I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”

“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.

“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.

“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.

“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.

“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”

“Leave me alone.”

“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”

You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.

“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.

You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.

He terrified you.

And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.

“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.

But for some reason—

“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.

He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.

It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.

“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”

His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.

“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”

You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”

“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”

“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.

He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”

“He is not—”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”

The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.

“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”

You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.

“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”

“No, no—”

“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.

“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.

And you’re powerless.

You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.

“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself

Bowling.

You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.

Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.

“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.

You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.

For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.

“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”

“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.

“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”

“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.

You decide to go for it.

He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.

“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”

“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”

“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.

He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.

“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.

“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.

All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.

If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.

You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.

“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”

“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”

“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.

You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.

It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.

He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.

“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.

He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.

You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.

“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.

“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”

“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.

You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.

“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.

“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.

He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.

His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.

“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”

You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.

“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.

“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.

“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.

“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.

“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”

“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”

“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.

He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.

You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.

“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.

“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”

“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.

You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.

But you don’t say that.

In fact, you barely say anything.

He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.

“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.

He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.

You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.

It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.

He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.

“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.

“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.

“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”

“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.

“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.

He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.

You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.

“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.

“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.

You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.

“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.

“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.

“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.

“Shit, was it?”

“Absolutely.

You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.

He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.

It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.

There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.

He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.

“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

You don’t want to leave, either.

“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.

“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”

You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.

It’s been so long.

Too long.

You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.

He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.

“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.

You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.

“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.

You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.

And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.

“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?

You can’t.

You can’t.

You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.

But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.

“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.

You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.

When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.

You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.

“Hey—”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.

“Oh… really?”

“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.

“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

You can’t.

You just can’t.

You can’t fucking sleep.

It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.

But you can’t sleep.

Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.

Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?

You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.

The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.

You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.

When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.

You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.

You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.

As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.

“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.

“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.

You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.

You can’t.

You can’t.

But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.

You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.

The only thing on your mind is how close he is.

“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.

One won’t come.

“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.

He should have left you be.

“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?

“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”

“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.

“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.

“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”

Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.

But look at you now.

Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.

It’s getting out of hand.

You can’t stop it.

You can’t help it.

“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.

You give him the opportunity to leer at you.

And he’s so thankful.

Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.

“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”

Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?

He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn���t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.

It doesn’t register to him, though.

You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.

You can’t.

You can’t.

“I know…” you confess.

You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t.

And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.

You’re perfect.

“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.

You kiss him again.

And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.

“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”

You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.

You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.

And now, you’re ravenous.

Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.

And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.

You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.

You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.

“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.

“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”

“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…

His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.

“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.

You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.

But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.

He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.

You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.

You can’t.

Not anymore.

He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.

His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.

You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.

“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.

“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.

Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.

“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.

You just can’t.

Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.

The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

You’re pathetic, you think.

It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.

But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.

Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.

“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.

He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.

“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.

He can’t stop.

So he doesn’t.

He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.

And, hell, he might.

You say you can’t.

But why are you moaning for him?

“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.

“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.

You can’t reason with him, though.

Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.

“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”

“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.

Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.

He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.

He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”

You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?

“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.

“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”

“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.

He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.

The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.

You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.

It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.

“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.

A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.

At least, in the literal sense.

You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.

The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.

“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.

It wasn’t enough.

Three wasn’t enough.

The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.

He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.

He’s kissing away your tears.

“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”

It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.

Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.

Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.

He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.

Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.

You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.

“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.

You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.

“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.

“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.

The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.

It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.

“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”

“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.

You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.

Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.

So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.

He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.

You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.

He got close.

Really close.

Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.

“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.

“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.

“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.

And he realises it isn’t his phone.

It’s yours.

He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.

“Hello?!” Maisie.

He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”

“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.

“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.

“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”

“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.

“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”

“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”

“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”

“W-What?”

“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”

“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.

“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”

“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”

“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.

You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.

“It was… fucking amazing.”

© 2023 rinhaler

#rensuke kunigami x reader #kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x you #kunigami smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #kunigami x you #rensuke kunigami smut #tw alcohol consumption #tw dumbification #tw size difference #tw size kink #tw dacryphilia #tw praise #tw bullying mention

[daddyricsdoll]

Two is better than one ✭ Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham

Summary: It was hard to suppress your feelings for your best friend since childhood, especially if he's the Lando Norris. But then you met an alluring man who had made you question if you had loved Lando or if this was an act of lust. Soon growing a desire for both men but still questioning what to do. Until they decided to give you the answer- two is better than one.

Warnings: Threesome, masturbation, use of toys (vibrator, dildo, clit sucker), unprotected sex, anal, creampie, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation, teasing, bondage, blindfold, oral, fingering, not breeding kink but likes to fill the reader up, nipple clamps, degrading name (slut and brat).

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Based off of this request. Ok so maybe the reader has some flaws, but who wouldn't when both Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham exist. Especially when they both want her! Writing this was a pleasure and honour because both my favourite things collide. So thanks anon for requesting this, and I hope you enjoy!!! Also, FOR YOUR LOVE by Måneskin is the song that probably expresses the thoughts going through both men's heads. And it's just a great song in general. And if you waited for long then you would want answers to why this took so long, so in a short answer- I nearly died. But I finished this! So Yay!!! You can enjoy now...

“Lando, hun, good luck and be safe.” I hug him tightly, his scent filling my nose and hypnotising me once again. Forcing the butterflies to come alive in my stomach and memorise the feeling of his large hands enveloping my waist. He doesn’t let go, waiting for me to first, and if I could, I’d never let us part. But right now, he has a race to win and I’m not gonna stop him from that, I never have and never will. 

So it takes strength to part from him, but having Lando after the race is leading my hazy mind. Even if it’s not the touch I want, it’s still him even how hard I wished to suppress that thought or feeling. 

I watch him zip up his race suit, hiding his fireproof that shows me each muscle I’d wish to lay my tongue against. Balaclava now pulled over top his head, and curls hidden underneath the fabric. Lastly he puts his helmet on and fits himself into the car that will certainly give him victory. 

I rush back to the McLaren garage, saying hi to some familiar staff and trying to find a place to sit before lights out. My eyes search for my signature spot, but now occupied by an enigmatic figure. He had an aura that you would find hard to describe with one word. Holding himself with confidence, looking straight forward and not giving a care about who watched. Confidence exuding off him, but not one that reveals too much. Rectangular sunglasses covered his eyes, but his tall figure and crossed arms drew me closer. I didn’t move physically but I tried to search him with my eyes, racking my brain to find out why he made me feel this specific heat in the pit of my stomach. 

“Darling, stop looking at me like that or I’ll have to fuck you right here and record it for your boyfriend.” The sentence left his mouth like it was second nature, so smoothly and at a volume that was only for me to hear. His words made my breath hitch and I stood in shock, my core on fire but I was ready to open my legs. 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Oh even better, you’re only mine.” He takes his sunglasses off, holding it loosely between his fingers as he leans against the wall. Cheeky smirk on his lips.

“Who said I’m yours?” I take steps closer to him, trying to exude the same confidence as him. My heart beating oh so faster at the way his eyes are so intoxicating.

“I did, Darling. Something wrong?”

“You have a lot of audacity.” 

“I’ve got to, or a pretty woman like you wouldn't be talking to me.” I’m certain the blush on my cheeks became a shade darker. Even my skin rising in temperature, it makes me question how I’m still looking at him and not the ground. My mind already hazy as he made me lost for words. I couldn’t speak now, I couldn’t say the wrong thing or this could all crash down. So instead of speaking with words I used my eyes, they flickered to his lips, making mine part once I reverted back up to him. 

“You’re really trying to take up my offer.” He keeps eye contact as he speaks, looking up and down my body once he’s finished.

“Oh you can’t possibly think I’m that easy?”

He inches his face closer to mine, making me think he’ll close the gap between our lips, but instead he goes toward my ear. “So you’re telling me you’re not wet right now. That you don’t want me between your thighs. Or maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s your driver Lando.”

My breath hitches once again and the expression on my face would make you think the words he said were a forbidden curse. A curse that had me rubbing my legs together and thinking of such filthy things.

“Can’t I be wet from both of you? Imagining each thick dick sliding inside and out of me.”

Taking back some dominance, my whisper full of emotion and smoothly leaving my lips. And for the first time it’s as if his character breaks. More colour finding his cheeks, and his smirk faltering. I decide to lean further into him, my lips millimetres from touching his ear. 

“Imagine I'm riding your dick so good squeezing my tight pussy making you moan and whine the shit out of you.” I drag my lips against his ear before biting his earlobe. “All this while Lando is fucking my tight ass. I will be so full-” A moan leaving my mouth and his reaction goes straight to his dick. His large hands try to cover the bulge, somewhat achieving it.

“If you're gonna tease me, you should expect me to make those words true.” Hands coming to my hips to bring me forward, the bottom half of my body now flush against him. Feeling his hard cock press along his pants, and now me. His size, oh I couldn’t imagine. 

“How about I give you something to do when this race is finished?” He whispers to me. His offer so tempting, it would be criminal to say no to. 

“Sweetheart… let me give you something else. If you don’t want it, then you’re not gonna get an alternative.” I wait for him to nod before I continue. “I’m here for 3 more days, that’s the time you have if you want something.” Just as I take my first step away from him he speaks. 

“Give me your number, Darling.” He stretches his arm out, phone held by the tip of his fingers. I take it from him, typing out my number. “Give me your name.” I ask, learning the most basic thing about him last.

“It’s Jude, Darling. Jude Bellingham.” He takes back his phone once I’m done, winking at me before I walk away. Keeping composure and hiding the fluttering feeling in my stomach. 

✭

Lando holding victory after the race was expected, but when he hugged Jude right after me and then spent what felt like hours with him, I could say that was not planned. 

I stood on the side and waited for Lando, usually being the centre of his attention after races, but out of all of them this one had to be different, because of one man. Annoyance grew in me, but not for the anticipated reasons. It was because they both looked so good together, and that one of them knows my desires, while the other knows everything about me except that. The heat that’s now constantly in the pit of my stomach grew. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them, whether my stare from the outside seemed neutral, almost as if I’ve zoned out and they were the lucky view I zoned out from, my feelings inside were far from that. 

Lust wasn’t the only feeling lurking inside of me, a pure liking toward them both danced beside it as well– fondness, but maybe infatuation would be a better suit. 

Jude’s eyes flickered to me as he conversed with Lando, a small grin on his face at the expression I displayed on mine. Now I regret my partial “no” to him. Because I desperately need something between my legs, but for now maybe playing hard to get will be on my side, well once he crumbles and ruins me like he said he would. 

I keep my eyes on both the men as they say their “byes”, Jude walking one way and Lando walking to me. My tight lipped expression turned into a grin as he pulled me into a hug. 

“Don’t think I could forget about you.” Lando says into my hair before pulling away. But he doesn’t really, his hands still on my hips even while his body isn’t pressed against mine.

“Yeah, I know.” I try to force my attention from his hands, but when they fit against me perfectly it’s so hard. 

“I heard you met Jude.” His grin now a tantalising smirk.

“Oh, really?”

“You’re not as innocent as I thought; but if you wanted me, you should’ve just asked, I would’ve given you everything.” I suddenly hear my heartbeat in my ears, skin burning hot and desire pooling in my stomach. Lando speaks as if there's no tomorrow, as if he’s the best thing I’ll ever find– and maybe he is, but that doesn’t mean I’ll show my desperation and succumb to him already. I’ve got Jude, and games to play. 

“Oh hun, you know what else can give me everything? Those toys I use while I think of you.” My words sinful and enthralling, leaving Lando standing there watching me as I walk away. I didn’t know what could’ve possibly run through his head, but I’d only hope he could still give me everything. 

✭

Before arriving back in the hotel I had a detour to one of the shops I’m more fond of. Spending hundreds of dollars on items I may not even use, but there were a few I’d be certain to use on this solitary night. 

Once I closed the door of my room I opened my phone checking every notification as I slowly walked into the bathroom with my bag full of the products I purchased earlier. 

‘Darling, have any plans for tonight?’ The number unknown, but the first word revealing his identity he didn’t even try to hide. My eyes are stuck on my phone–his message– as I turn the bath on, filling it with water as I start undressing. Actions speak louder than words, is what they usually say. But in my case, my action is a photo. 

My nipples hard, and body drained of clothing. I stare at myself through the mirror, blinding myself from every insecurity as I lift my phone up. Capturing a photo of me and not looking at it once before sending it to both men. Immediately I turn my phone off and place it beside the sink. Opening the bag and pulling out the few things that will keep me sane for now- my clit sucker, vibrator and dildo. I look at the large bath, not filled all the way yet, so I put my things on the bath tray while I wait. Checking my phone, I see new messages from both men. 

‘What happened to the toys?’

‘Or do you want my everything now?’ 

Lando’s message cut into two, but he shows the desperation I try to hide. I don’t reply just yet, checking what Jude sent.

‘Darling, you can't just send one and leave. Show me’ 

Both men only make my need for them worse, and the toys that my eyes make contact with encourage it too. 

I ignore the tap still filling the bath as I get in, aching for a touch between my legs. My hand drawn to the vibrator as I grasp it and turn it onto its 4th setting already. I put the camera of my phone on and film myself as I drag the vibrator between my breasts, going beneath the water and becoming invisible to them.

My face being the only thing that describes and expresses what they’d wish to be watching. My legs are parted as I start teasing my clit with the vibrator, going between my folds and forcing even more arousal to coat it before the water cleans it away. I go back to playing with my clit, using it like a toy and already bringing me close to my climax. I imagine both men, laying in their rooms with their cocks between their fists, pumping it as they watch me.

Lando thinking about what my lips would feel like when they wrap around him. Jude falling into the thought of me clenching my walls around him as I ride his dick. But in this reality it’s their own fists making them explode, coming on their hands. Just as I released too for the first time in this long night. Moaning out curse words and such pornographic sounds.

I stop filming and send it to Jude and Lando, the clip answering both of their questions and demands. 

My eyes close once I turn my phone off, relaxing into the feeling of the vibrator handing me orgasm after orgasm, turning the levels up by twos and making me release even faster than the last. Each of my actions wanton as my whines filled the room and I grew addicted to the sensation against my swollen clit.

I stopped counting the times I had released once I passed four. The vibrator now became a familiar feeling, but still as good as the first time it touched me. When I opened my eyes again, the sight of the dildo and clit sucker never looked more appealing. I cursed myself for being so salacious, but it didn’t stop me from swapping my vibrator with them both. The dildo being prioritised as I slide it between my folds, trying to cover the tip in my arousal so it slides in easily. 

I push it in slowly, feeling the burn of the stretch, eliciting a moan from my plump lips. Continuing  to make small thrusts until I can fit it all in. Once it sits in me, I grab the clit sucker, whining just looking at it and wishing it was one of their mouths. I get reminded of both men, wondering how the sensation of a vibrator created a haze over both of the people who owned my mind.

Sweat trickles down my chest as it moves with each of my heavy breaths. My body anticipating the contact against my clit. Once it envelopes my slit I turn it on. Nearly pulling another orgasm from my overused clit. I think about how it would’ve felt if it were Lando or Jude’s lips on me. Bringing me back to them and what their possible replies could’ve been to my video. With my free hand I grab my phone, seeing both their messages being sent half an hour ago. It couldn’t have been that long?

‘Fuck, that’s what I wanted’ 

‘Give me more’

‘Darling, it’s been a while’

‘You want to feel my cock? Forget how to walk?’

Jude’s last message sent from minutes ago. Wanton moans, cries and whines leave my mouth as I release again, adding onto every other climax I’ve had this night. I inch closer to another, certain that that one should’ve been my last. Before I let myself release I go on Lando’s messages, somehow making me reach my climax once I read them. 

‘I know what you’re doing’

‘You’re a slut’ 

‘And I’m gonna treat you like one’

‘Once I get my hands in your pussy, I'm gonna stretch you out. And you're gonna take it like the good girl you should be’

My pussy throbs and eyes flutter reading his message. Tired from each orgasm but my core needs more. Just as I reach my hand down to grab the dildo a loud slam of the hotel door fills the room. My heart pounds and I try to cover myself, feeling even more vulnerable that the bathroom door is wide open. I knew I was helpless and my mind was blank of things to do, but then I caught a glimpse of the two men that just walked in.

Both of them walked straight toward me. “So this is where you’ve been Darling.”

“She’s not a darling. She’s a slut.” Landos eyes roam over me, a depraved smirk on his heart-shaped lips.

“You know what? You’re right.” Jude peers to the bag beside the sink, finding interest in it and pulling out each product. A set of restraints, a blindfold and nipple clamps. Jude looks over to Lando, just for them both to keep their contrast of eyes on me. 

“And now we’re gonna treat you like one.” They both move closer to me, Lando grasping me by my arms and Jude moving the bath tray to pull me up by my thighs. They both lift me and make me sit on the edge of the bath, both men cursing when they see the dildo still deep inside of me and the clit sucker barely holding on. 

“Couldn’t really hold back could ya. If I didn’t know better I’d flip you over and do exactly what I said I would when we first met.” Jude brings his face closer to me, just for his whisper to be toned with harshness. Pulling the dildo out and thrusting it back in. Making me choke on my breath and grab his shoulders for stability.

My action works to his advantage as he lifts me up and throws me onto the bed. “We would usually wait, but you’ve already started without us.” Lando walks out of the bathroom, holding everything I bought today in his large hands. Tossing everything onto the bed beside me, he leaves the box of restraints in his hands, opening it and throwing some to Jude.

I stay in my position on the bed, staring at both of them. 

“Come on slut, don’t act like you don’t know what to do.” Landos eyes ravenous, but his voice rough. It makes it hard for me to believe he was hugging me with love and sunshines just hours ago. But I listen to his words, spreading each of my limbs while they keep the dildo inside of me. As they tie me up they let the thought of my comfort out, making the restraints so tight that I couldn’t even think of moving. 

Once they finish, Lando places a blindfold over my eyes. Covering my vision and turning it to black. My other senses heightened as I waited for their next actions. I shiver at the next touch, one of them putting the nipple clamps on me. My core definitely dripping, and the fact that it’s so exposed makes another wave of arousal go through me.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” Landos words leave his mouth like a purr and I feel his hot breath against my pussy. Losing the dildo and clit sucker as Lando pulls them both away without a second thought. 

“And I’ve always wanted to see how your lips would look around my dick.” Jude’s voice comes from beside me. The bed lowers from weight beside my head, until I realise that it’s Jude hovering over me. Legs on either side of my head and his cock so close I was millimetres from tasting it. 

“Open up.” Jude commands and subordinately I open my mouth wide. If he had any intentions to be slow, he forgot them all. Already thrusting his dick inside of my mouth with no mercy. Lando gives me no time to think as he starts abusing my already sensitive pussy with his mouth. Pulling against the ties had no use, and every sound I’d let out would be taken from Jude. 

Lando rammed in his fingers to add along to the work of his tongue. Giving me no chance to control my breathing or even make up my own thoughts. It was shameful that I blatantly enjoyed this. Being controlled by two men as they used my body like a toy. Calling me names that I wouldn’t ever dare another man to say and fucking every thought and word out of my mouth.

The pain mixed with pleasure and pleasure brought me to my release once again. Whining out another moan as I knew my body couldn’t handle it anymore. I attempted to writhe under Jude, but Lando’s hand splayed out on my lower abdomen, trying to stop me as Jude continued fucking my face until his cum covered the inside of my mouth. 

It didn’t take a lot longer until that moment came. Jude exploded in my mouth and coating my tongue, throat and roof of my mouth with his release. 

“Gonna tease us like a brat, you’re gonna get treated like one.” Judes words could only be for me. And if I could have one wish, it would be without this blindfold. To see the man who mesmerised me with his beauty but also made me cry because of his cock– but he’ll never know.

“Swallow.” He demands of me, and just like the first time, I obey his order. Feeling his weight leave the bed beside me.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do Jude? I’ve always wanted to fill her up and watch as my cum drips out of her.”

“Fuck. You know what I’ve always wanted? Is to feel how tight she is through anal.”

I whine out, each word of theirs so tempting but my pussy can’t take anymore. “What was that?” Lando asks me.

“I- no, please.” I struggle to find the right words, choking over myself and hoping they know it’s my end.

“I guess you know what that means Jude.” I follow Lando’s voice as it walks from one side of the room to the other. My heartbeat fills my ears until it eases when I feel my wrists becoming undone from the ties. My ankles are untied next and I don’t do anything, letting them keep dominance over everything. 

I feel Lando’s hands grab me, making me rise onto my knees and I cry out, finally connecting the dots. 

“Oh hun, if you really think you could get away that easily then you’re wrong. So come down and sit on my dick.” And how I wished to refuse, I craved it more. Listening to him as I let his hands guide me down. His dick thicker than I could’ve imagined and it stung more than the dildo, but it was a sting I was happy to get used to. More tears welling up in my eyes, making it a perfect time for Lando to force my blindfold off. 

I couldn’t rely on myself to keep a rhythm so I let Lando lead me. He only made it worse, forcing my clit to rub against him as he pushed me down. By that time, I knew my cries and pleads could never work, so I’d surrendered that, letting the only sounds to escape my lips to be moans and whines. 

My body soon became pressed against Lando’s in favour of Jude. Giving him better access as he very slowly pushed into me. Both of our voices strained as he bottomed out. Tears ran down my face from both men, and I realised how close I was to my climax.

What I had thought of being soft sex, was only a disguise. Once Jude became accustomed to me he started ruining me in a place I hadn’t been before. Lando holding my body and thrusting up into me, making the sound of skin slapping to crowd the room. 

A long moan fleeing my mouth as I released. The knot in my stomach finally exploded and I rested on Lando’s body as I indeed became their toy. Jude’s grip on my hips still growing tighter and Lando’s thrusts still had power but lost pattern. Jude along with Lando spasmed in me, making the clenching of my pussy to let them release one after the other. 

Jude quickly pulled out and released over me and Lando, soon followed by an unholy groan leaving Lando’s mouth as he released in me. Each spurt of his cum filling my helpless pussy just seconds before he pulled out and let me lay on my back. Legs parted and eyes already fluttering closed. Catching a few glimpses of Jude and Lando, achieving a few of the things they’d wanted as I feel Lando’s cum start dripping out of me. 

“Darling, maybe next time don’t start without us. You should get some rest, although I’ve always wanted to fuck someone while they sleep.”

#lando norris fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fic #f1 fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando fluff #lando norris imagine #lando smut #lando x reader #lando norris x yn #lando norris x y/n #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #footballer x y/n #football smut #footballer x you #footballer smut #footballer x reader #footballer oneshot #footballer fanfic #f1 imagines

[mixtape-racha]

like a virgin | choi soobin

you'd been together for so long, so why did soobin feel like an overwhelmed virgin every time he fucked you? // 18+, minors dni

words: 1.20k // warnings: dom!soobin, size difference, reader is described as short and petite, reader gets called "bunny", oral (m. receiving), horse cock soobin agenda

a/n: based on this request by 🎡 anon!! i hope you enjoy! ♡

choi soobin was many things, but inexperienced was not one of them. it seemed everyone and their mother - sometimes quite literally - wanted nothing more than to cum on the cock of the nerd of a man down the street, and it truly did wonders for his confidence and abilities in bed.

so by the time he met you, juniors in college, both ancient greek history majors, he was well aware that he could ravish anyone who wanted it in bed. he just wasn’t expecting that anyone to be you. you, with your pretty face, and charming disposition. you, who - despite your protests and detest for the word - was “popular” on campus; friends with almost all cliques, never sticking to one social class or friendship group. you, y/n l/n.

when you approached him at a party, slightly buzzed, face flushed and a beer in hand, he was surprised to say the least. but that was nothing compared to how he felt when you told him you wanted him, wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything. and not just in bed - oh no - you wanted all of him. the lazy mornings after a party, the impromptu dates because your class got canceled, the late-night coffee runs when you were studying for finals. it took all the alcohol in your system to gain the courage to come up to him and ask him on a date, but he was so, so thankful you did.

soon after, you started officially dating. soobin was over the moon to have bagged someone as perfect as you, and you were just thrilled that he actually liked you back, too. it was just a bonus that the sex was amazing, too. the first time you saw soobin’s cock, you eyes nearly bulged out of your head in shock. he was huge, and you were in absolute disbelief. you even had to take a moment to express your concerns to him that he would fit inside of you, which he just chuckled at - and soon proved you wrong. he had you creaming on his cock, drooling and eyes rolling back within minutes.

it was pretty much from that moment that an innate feeling woke deep within soobin. seeing your struggle to take him had him throbbing, and it even developed to the point that he’d get hard whenever someone mentioned your height difference. being a foot taller than you, and just so much bigger in every way, send him on a complete power trip. 

most of all, you loved watching how he fell apart when you sucked him off. something about him towering over you while you were on your knees had you dripping, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

he was sitting on the couch watching a shitty tv show that you didn’t understand how he found funny when you got bored, moving from your spot curled under his arms. he was confused, reaching out for you when you got up, his perfect lips forming a pout that almost had you going straight back to him. but instead you grabbed a cushion, placing it on the floor before nestling yourself between his legs. soobin had a habit of manspreading, so that gave you ample opportunity to seat yourself and rest your head on his plush thigh.

he honestly didn’t even question it, just resting a hand on your head and fussing with your hair occasionally. he was used to you putting yourself in odd positions for comfort, and just assumed the couch was hurting your back or something. of course, that soon changed when you swiveled around, facing him and looking up at him with those big doe eyes he loved.

“you okay down there, pretty?” he asked softly, eyes flitting between you and the tv screen which caused you to whine softly. “oh, you need attention, yeah? got yourself all comfy down there hoping i’d give you what you want?”

you nodded, the fabric of his jeans providing a strange comfort on your skin, and he grinned, eyes crinkling slightly. he thought you were so adorable, his perfect little bunny. and how could he deny you what you so desperately wanted? with a slight nod of his head and a tap of his thigh, you almost became rabid with the way you began clawing at his jeans, desperate to pull them down.

he was already half hard in his boxers just at your enthusiasm, hissing with his lip tucked between his lips as you pulled him out of his confines, too overwhelmed to even pull his jeans or boxers off properly.

you were always surprised by how big soobin really was, even half-hard. maybe caught off guard was better, but nonetheless it always made you wonder if you could fit him in any of your holes - although, clearly you could. you couldn’t help the way you licked your lips, wanting nothing more than for him to stuff himself in your throat, but you knew he’d make you work for that. so you settled for kitten licking the tip while looking up at him to watch his reaction.

he hissed at the contact, hips itching to buck up at the way you looked so at home between his legs. as much as he wanted to tell you to stop, to give you a night purely filled with your pleasure in mind only, he knew that you enjoyed giving head almost as much as - if not more - he enjoyed getting it.

you were quick to take as much of him as you could into your mouth, stretching your jaw as much as you could to fit around his impressive girth. he let out a low groan, head lolling back on the couch as you swallowed around him, wrapping your hands around the second half of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

you looked so small and delicate below him that soobin couldn’t help but wrap his fingers through your hair, guiding your head up and down his length. it took everything in him to not buck up into your mouth, not wanting to make you choke - even though it would be so fucking hot.

“fuck angel, feel like i’m gonna hit your lungs if im not careful.” he moaned, the idea making your eyes roll to the back of your head as you began grinding on the pillow below you, needing any form of release you could get. it felt like you had no more room in your throat, soobin’s cock taking up any space available. you hummed softly, the vibrations making his hips buck involuntarily, which in turn made you gag around him. he was quick to pull his length from your mouth, looking down at you in concern even when you whimpered and tried to go back.

“oh, come here, pretty,” he cooed, lifting you onto his lap, which you happily accepted. you straddled yourself on his thick thigh, instantly rocking your hips just like how you were on the pillow. he was so enamored with you, and he knew if he didn’t have you creaming on his cock in the next 5 minutes he might go insane.

“let me fuck you dumb, yeah?”

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @bangtancultsposts @watariisbestboy

#mixtape-racha #mixtape-racha fic #choi soobin #soobin #txt #tomorrow x together #choi soobin fic #choi soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x reader fic #choi soobin x reader smut #soobin x reader #soobin x reader fic #soobin x reader smut #txt fic #txt smut #txt x reader #txt x reader fic #txt x reader smut #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together x reader #tomorrow x together x reader fic #tomorrow x together x reader smut

[satoruluvies]

what's your type?

a short fic on how you found out how you weren't yuji's type. it's fluff and happy i swear.

yuji finds himself in a very difficult situation, already thinking of how to do damage control as he grabs your hand and starts pulling you away from the small crowd. this time however, the damage wasn't done by him. at least not entirely.

it was a few days after the sister school games with the kyoto school. your boyfriend and you along with nobara were visiting megumi in his dorm bringing him pizza when suddenly todo, apparently a student from the rival school decided to crash the little gathering.

you'd had heard of him from yuji and he wasn't exactly the type of person you see yourself getting close with, which is why when his eyes scan you up and down you couldn't help but cringe.

“hm so this is your girlfriend?” todo studied you closely as he rubbed his chin in concentration making you scoot a little closer to your boyfriend.

“yes!” yuji beamed at you but then glanced back and forth at todo and then at you trying to figure out what's going on.

“i didn't know your type changed, brother” ah that's what's going on.

that's also what got you in this set up. empty hallway with yuji profusely trying to explain or apologize. you couldn't tell with the way he nervously played with his fingers.

“y/n-”

“so what's your type then yuji?” he winced at the name, different from all the loving nicknames you used to call him. no yu no babe, baby, love just yuji.

“you i swear” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, only earning a scoff from you.

“drop it. i thought it was jennifer lawrence? surely todo doesn't think you'll actually date her? or is he as delusional with other people's lovelife as he is with his own?”

“i might've… described…” yuji really should've kept his mouth shut but hey, he thinks it's better than hiding things from you even if it were as trivial as his type. only, it doesn't seem so trivial to you.

“so what is it? what's your type?” you press on stubbornly, crossing your arms and raising a brow waiting for his answer.

“t-tall girls with big butts” he flushed red and looked away. “to be fair it was before i met you everything changed when i met you you're perfect please” yuji held your hand and flashed his puppy dog eyes you always lose against.

“the concept of an ideal type is bullshit” yuji chuckled at your grumble and held you tight. “exactly babe! just because i find certain features… nice doesn't mean i’d immediately love them for it. it's all about what the heart wants and my heart wants you. only you.”

“you and your words…”

he only laughs as he holds you even tighter, if that's even possible, placing tons of light wet kisses all over your face.

“next time someone asks me what my type is i will say it's my adorable girlfriend” he smiled, peering down at you still not letting you go from the hug despite you squirming to get away.

“you do that” he finally loosens his grip around you. “but…” you slowly took a few steps back, a smirk on your lips.

“what are you upto?” yuji tries coming closer but you wave a hand to stop him.

“when someone ask me what my type is i will say it's cillian murphy!” you stuck your tongue out and dash away.

“hey that's not fair!!” yuji ran after you, laughter echoing the hallways of the school bringing life to it.

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fic #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji #yuji x you #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #jjk au #jjk drabbles #jjk yuji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #yuji x y/n #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #yuuji x y/n #yuuji fluff #jjk itadori #itadori fluff #todo aoi #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen one shot #itadori x reader #itadori x you

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara  @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #honey girl #soulmate!bucky barnes x reader #soulmate!bucky barnes #dads best friend Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

[lunarw0rks]

humbly requesting ghost x reader where he thinks he’s too old and damaged for reader. i headcannon ghost to be anywhere between 35-38 and the reader would be early twenties. he’s all emo and “oh they’re too innocent, i’d hurt and ruin them” and reader is just like “i would die for this man.”

Too Old For You // Part One

Summary: You've been crushing on him for a while now, even going as far as taking a stab for him. But it isn't enough for him to notice you; you're too young, too nice for someone like him.

Warning(s): medic!reader, fem!reader, age gap [reader is early twenties, ghost is mid/late thirties], mild injury/blood, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 817

A/N: I enjoy hurting my own feelings :)

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX | AO3 VER | PART TWO .ˎˊ˗

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You did know that, by this point, at least. He had only told you about a hundred times.

“I can do this myself. It’s my job,” you let out a hiss as the Lieutenant purposefully wrapped the gauze tighter than necessary. You weren’t even supposed to be involved — you were supposed to keep hidden until the situation was handled.

He ripped off the end of it, fastening the small clip to keep the wrap in place. “Keep quiet,” he wanted to be irate. But you meant well, and that’s what bothered Simon the most. He, of all people, didn’t deserve to be the one you sacrificed yourself for. You were lucky it was a knife through the hand and not through the heart—where the intruder had been aiming the blade intended for him.

The gash in your palm would be a life-long reminder, doomed to leave a nasty scar.

Nothing says I’m in love with you like taking a stab in the hand for him, but it was abundantly clear he was too headstrong to let you be with him. Or was intentionally dismissing your signals entirely, you weren’t sure which one was more disheartening.

Ghost sets your injured hand back down, letting you admire his sloppy patchwork. It got the job done, it didn’t need to be an aesthetically-pleasing bandage. He used an alcohol wipe to cleanse the bloodstains on your forearm, now an unnecessary service. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing for you being injured on his behalf because he surely wasn’t expressing it through words.

You reached over with your unharmed hand and placed it over his, stopping his meticulous wiping, “I got this.”

The stubborn Lieutenant only flicked his gaze upwards from your hand on his, a brief scoff escaping his lips. Whatever the hell that meant. “Least I can do is get the damn blood off you, kid. Jumped in front of a bloody knife for me.”

Kid. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you.

He continued muttering and shaking his head in disapproval, running the alcohol wipe along your flesh until there was no trace of crimson.

It wasn’t a motive of stupidity, nor was it to prove yourself. You weren’t even a soldier, there would be no use trying to be tough in front of him. Your true motive was admiration for him, and even now, with a stab wound, he’s too mule-headed to let you in. Any longer, and you might just lose your mind entirely.

“Thought you would be relieved, I guess.” You shrugged, speaking with a small bit of defeat. “Knife was supposed to go right there.” A finger pointed at his heart but didn’t dare make contact. You knew better than that,.. Sort of.

Before you could finish outstretching your hand, his unoccupied one clamped over it, breaths a little heavier. Followed by a look that could only be described as intense contemplation; should I break this hand or continue to gently hold it?

“You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re doing, do you?” Simon questions, thumb instinctually caressing your knuckle to balance out the iron grip he maintained. “You’re confused.”

You were too young, too nice in his eyes. It was your job to be a healer, a good one, too. And his job? A trained killer. To him, it was too ironic, too striking of a contrast. An arrangement like that would never work—Simon was too mature, too damaged, downright unworthy of your kindness. At least that’s what he had himself convinced of, even after the knife incident.

You replied hastily, a slight tinge of frustration showing. “I’m not confused, Ghost. I know what I want—I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” You would’ve done it again if it meant another chance at restarting this conversation. A conversation that now was nose-diving into a point of no return.

“You shouldn’t have done it at all,” he sighed, amber eyes flooded with internal conflict. His grip released with one swift movement, and now his palm rested on either side of you, but it wasn’t intimidation he was after. “I’m not the bloke you want to jump in front of a bullet for, trust me.”

“Simon—” You blurted amidst his attempts at swaying you, cradling your bandaged hand. What more would it take?

“—Ghost.” He interjected, taking several steps back from his looming position. If he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from poisoning you.

It wasn’t right. You deserve someone better than him. “It’s Ghost. We’re not doin’ this, Kid. I’m not doing it.” His words were like a punch to the gut, more painful than a stab to the hand, that’s for sure.

The door to the infirmary slammed shut, only seconds before his footsteps faded into silence, stranding you with the solitude of rejection.

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod x female reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #141 task force #tf 141

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

[ponderingmoonlight]

Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Warnings: (y/n) is a real femme fatale aka bad bitch in this, mentions of smut, language language language, mentions of abuse towards Sukuna, mentions of pregnancy

Click here for Part ll

Your heels click against the floor casually as you swing your hips from side to side, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Finally. The sensation of his presence almost swallowed you whole just like it always did. Oh, how long you’ve waited for this damn moment, how you longed for him to finally appear again. Good for you that that brat decided to swallow your former lover back then.

Well, lover might be the wrong word to describe your relationship. Do you like Ryomen Sukuna? No, absolutely not. Just the thought of being around him sends your eyes into your skull immediately. Do you hate him?

“Can you shut up already? I’m…ah!”

“Stop talking, asshole”, you moaned against his parted lips, the sensation of him mercilessly thrusting into you almost swallowing you whole.

“You’re the worst woman I’ve ever met”, he hissed through gritted teeth, picking up his pace just the way you like it.

“I hate you”, you cried on top of your lungs while digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him even closer, to feel him even better.

You snort. Well, let’s just stay your relationship is rather complicated. But good for you, you took matters into your own hands.

“What do you think you’re doing there, huh?”, you casually question, bored eyes resting on that curse that kneels in front of the pink-haired boy.

“And who are you?”

Oh, it seems like this thing is a brave one. By the look of it and how he carries himself, he might be a special grade curse, he could be quite strong. But definitely not strong enough to even talk to you. You shake your head in amusement, fingers playing with a strand of hair.

“None of your business. I’m here to talk to Sukuna about something important, so get out the way before I drown you.”

“Get in line then. I am the one who will bring him back to life. He needs to assist us.”

“You must feel so brave and strong, huh? But still, you’re too dumb to realize who’s standing in front of you. Let me say it one last time, just because I’m in a good mood today: Get.out.my.way.”

You caress your belly mindlessly. Oh, you really do have some excited news. His face will be priceless when he hears your words. It’s his fault, after all. Who does he think he is to silently disappear for more than 500 years, leaving you alone without even saying goodbye? Looks like Sukuna is sick of you. Well, you’ll definitely bind him to you for the rest of your damned life. Maybe you should film it. What are those things called? Smartphones? Damn, you’re definitely too old for that dumb shit of those stupid humans.

“I’d get out of her way if I was you, curse. Or even better, go back where you came from and spare me with your bullshit, (y/n).”

That dark and unpromising voice, that annoyed undertone. Your eyes widen in nothing but excitement as well as your grin, unnecessary heart almost beating out of your chest. Finally, after all those years.

He’s back.

Ryomen Sukuna is finally back.

“I’m not going anywhere. There’s something very important we have to talk about”, you reply.

Hungrily, you take in his sight. He really does look different in that boy’s body. No wonder, after all he’s still a minor. You scrunch your nose, just the thought of getting close to this shell of a man…

Gross.

“Why are you looking at me like that, huh? Don’t you have somewhere to be, (y/n)?”

He can’t deny it, how desperately he has to supress a sly grin by just one look at you. How do you manage to always look this hot, to make his mind wander? Sukuna hates you with every fiber of his being, how you seem to always be two steps ahead of him. Him, the king of curses. Him, the one who should be in control. Him, who is technically stronger, older and more experienced than you. But oh, you do it so well while wearing that black dress and your pair of heels, the mischievous look on your face simply taking his breath away.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy, I’m exactly where I should be”, you purr.

Elegantly, you bend down towards him, almost revealing your panties in the process. Your hand glides over his firm chest and wraps around his neck, putting pressure on his windpipe ever so gently.

“Would y’all mind to just leave? We need a little more privacy.”

Nobody dares to move, your sheer presence stopping both girls and Jogo in their tracks. You might not be as powerful as Sukuna, but the way you act alone is enough to tell them you are no one to be messed with.

And the stinging fact that the king of curses literally allows you to choke him.

“W-we…We need to talk to Sukuna”, a female voice behind you speaks out.

Urgh, is a simple no not enough? You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, making Sukuna almost shiver in excitement of what comes next.

“Listen, I tried to be nice, but you brats are testing me. I don’t have time for stupid shit like that, okay?”

One snap. One little innocent movement of your finger is enough to slice both of their heads off in the split of a second, sparing the curse standing behind you only by inches.

“If you don’t want to die right here and now, leave before I’m completely losing it, curse.”

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did something upset you?”

Your attention goes back to the force of a man in front of you, who lifts himself off the ground effortlessly.

“Well, I was pretty mad when I found out that you found a vessel and didn’t care enough to let me know. After all, I haven’t seen you in…how many years? 500, maybe?”

“Maybe you should leave, then. Because I didn’t miss you a single bit”, Sukuna suggests innocently.

Your bodies are so close to each other that he can’t ignore the heat radiating from your frame anymore. Why do you have to look so enticing in your short black dress? And what is that look on your face?

“Ouch, I’m here because I have something very important to tell you-“

“Get in line then, I don’t have time for your shit right now-“

Your nerves tingle in excitement when you pin him against the destroyed wall behind him.

This. This is the moment you worked you hard for, the moment you’ve been waiting for since he disappeared into darkness.

“I’m pregnant, Sukuna.”

The smile on his face disappears in an instant, you watch in sheer amusement as he turns pale as snow. This is too good to be true, absolutely priceless.

“So you fucked with somebody else, huh?”

“Both you and I know that it’s not possible for a simple human or curse to impregnate a woman like me.”

Oh, he knows damn well that you’re right. Frantically, he pushes his large hand against your stomach, searching for a sign of life. You have to be joking. He was gone for ages. And even though he wasn’t able to not get a taste of you, to not sink into your inviting flesh from time to time, there simply is no possibility, it can’t be true…

His soul leaves his body, breath getting stuck in his throat.

There it is, a tiny movement, a minor heartbeat.

You are indeed pregnant.

“There is no way”, he breathes out.

“Ask be how I did it.”

Your face is only inches away from his, maniac grin laughing down at him. You’ve had this plan in your mind for a long time. After he slipped through your fingers and didn’t return for literal years, you needed a plan. A plan to force him to stay by your side, a plan to bind him to you forever.

Ryomen Sukuna will always be yours. And you made sure of that.

“To be honest, it wasn’t hard to get what I needed for it. You aren’t especially careful when it comes to-“

“It shouldn’t even be possible”, he interrupts you breathlessly.

“You…You little bitch.”

You laugh at him hysterically as he throws you against the wall and chokes you until you see stars.

“Congrats, dear Sukuna. I’m sure you’ll be the best dad ever”, you choke out while sticking out your tongue.  

“And you’ll stay with me until the end of time.”

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