#I CANT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT OR I START SHAKING
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just enough
warnings: nightmares and paige being annoying but thats lowkey it this ones kinda cute
request: hi!!! i loved you nika headcannons. would you be open to writing about her? i rlly feel like you’re hc abt her match up so well
nika mühl x reader
the warmth of my blankets encompassed me in, the weight of the soft fabric holding me down. i don’t really know how i was still awake, considering it was almost 1 a.m.
its not like i was staying awake, i was actually trying to sleep.
my room was small, but comfy. the only light was a streetlight gleaming through the window. it had one bed, a nightstand and, a dresser. a uconn ncaa banner was pitched above the bed. my dorm-room was surprisingly quiet, the only sound being a small floor fans whirring.
the silence was interrupted was a quiet jingle from the door handle. the metal clicked and the door creaked open, and a tall brunette girl poked her head in. “hey niks. couldn’t sleep again?”
“how’d you know?” she spoke sarcastically, shrugging while she walked in. the door closed quietly behind her. sometimes when nika can’t sleep, she finds her way into my room. after what was probably the 20th time this happened, i gave her an extra key so i didn’t have to get up to let her in.
i scooted closer to the wall to make space as she stumbled her way over. nika lifted the covers up and slipped under them, instantly moving closer to me. she gave me a quick smile before rolling over, facing away. “thanks. for you know. this?”
“yeah… i don’t mind,” i traced little shapes on her back while we talked. i drew a dog and a house and two girl standing outside of it before she moved. nika sunk further into the bed, “i was kind of worried you would.”
“why would it bother me? its really nice when you’re here.” she giggled before turning back towards me, making eye contact in the dark. “do you really think i would give you a key if it bothered me?”
she had really nice eyes, and they were looking right in mine. and the way she talked was so perfect, “i guess i never thought about it that way.” she blinked and it broke me out if my trance, but i was pulled back in the second i could see them again. the chocolate brown swirled around, darker on the inside and lighter on the outside. it had such a sweet look to it and the colour highlighted her face.
nika sighed and then we just layed there in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. nothing needed to be said. the presence of each other being there was just enough.
but i had to break it. i don’t really know why. “are you sure your doing okay?”
she seemed taken aback, her eyes loosing the happiness they had seconds prior to my words. “i- why wouldn’t i be?” she was laying so close to me that i could feel her breath shaking while she spoke, a nervousness coating her expressions.
“niks, i’m just worried about your sleep and stuff. you come in here saying that you cant sleep more often then not,” she pulled the covers slightly closer, twisting the edge lightly with her fingers. “and theres nothing wrong with you coming in here, but is something keeping you up at night?”
“its not like its important or anything.”
“yes it is.”
even though she was laying down she still crossed her arms and gave me a you should be quiet look. “why?”
“because your important. and i care.” a strand of hair fell in front of her face and she blew at it to try and get rid of it, but it kept ended up right back in her face. frustration grew over her face. after she started mumbling swears at it, i tucked it behind her ear.
“why do you care?” she spat, calmness buried underneath her mean tone.
“i don’t know, why are you interrogating me now?”
“you know i didn’t come here for a heart to heart. i came here to sleep.”
“i guess we don’t always get what we want.”
she took in a deep breath, “i’ve been have these nightmares, where i cant do anything right. and coach gets mad at me, then the rest of the team follows,”
“and nobody will talk to me, because i keep messing the plays up. not even you will talk to me.”
“and it gets to the point where nobody will look at me, because they’re ashamed for me. or at me, i’m not really sure. and in the end, i just stop loving basketball.” her voice cracks with those last words and it breaks my heart. and as the tears she was holding back slowly make their way over her waterline and onto her face, i pull her into a hug.
her voice was all squeaky and wobbly, “i just don’t want to be a failure.” nikas face was pressed against my chest, a wet spot appearing on my t-shirt.
“no. look at me,”
nika peered up at me, eyes still glossy with tears. “you are not a failure. you never will be, okay? we all love you so much. i love you so much.”
“yeah.” she sniffled out. my hand held her head close the myself, playing with her hair. my other hand scratched her back, trailing under her shirt slightly.
she wiped her tears with her sleeve before cuddling back in, “your a good friend.” she mumbled into the crook of my neck, her lips brushing lightly over my skin as she spoke.
she was still there when i woke up, snoring lightly. her leg was thrown over me and her arms were still wrapped around my waist. nika was practically a koala, but i didn’t mind.
i was just glad she was there.
most if the time when she came in the night, we wouldn’t talk at all and she would be gone by the time i was awake. usually i was asleep when she got there too. sometimes i didn’t even know she was in my room until she mentions it sometime during the day.
i trusted her, entirely.
it didn’t matter to me if she came in and out throughout the night and the morning.
after awhile, we just stopped talking about it. if she was there, then cool. we didn’t need to have a conversation about why.
im not sure what was different about last night and this morning. but i liked it. i liked talking to her, and i liked having her with me.
she was a cute sleeper too. her messy hair still looked perfect. i could just lay there forever, it was peaceful. but we weren’t going to, because nika woke up. she yawned and stretched her arms up, nudging me in the face with one. “g’morning.”
she peeled herself off of me, smiling up. “good morning. whats the time?”
i shrugged, “i dunno.”
nika got out of the bed, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with her. she didn’t let go when she started to talk, “hey, I’m sorry about last night.”
i smiled at her, it was more of a sad smile though. my thumb traced over her hand, “don’t be. everybody needs somebody.”
she squeezed both of my hands before pulling me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head. “no, i- you said you loved me, and i didn’t say it back. so i’m sorry about that.”
“its fine.”
she spoke quietly, almost like a whisper, “i do love you too, by the way.” she smiled.
i held her face in my hands, “good.” i pressed a light kiss to her chin. “you better love me.”
god, her smile was perfect too. she giggled and smiled again. “ill see you at practice?”
“three hours mühl. trust me, ill be there.” she pulled me into a hug, patting my back.
she pulled away, heading towards the door. “bye bye!”
i walked into practice with my bag slung over my shoulder, barely awake.
i had fallen asleep again after nika had left, only waking up because paige barged into my room, woke me up by scaring me, then still made fun of my scream.
then she forced me to make her waffles, then complained that i had no butter. like…?
i held my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. “p be quiet, for one second please?”
“but-”
“paige. shh.” i took a sip of water and began walking towards the court, not realizing she was multiple steps behind me. at that point, it was too late.
she ran at me and jumped onto my back which sent up both onto the floor, laughing hysterically. i was curled into a ball holding my stomach because it was so funny it hurt. “paige, why?” i laughed out, hitting her over the head for payback.
“oh you did not”
she shot onto her feet and grabbed me, hoisting me onto my feet. i wiggled out of her grip and started to run away, laughing at her as she chased after.
i ran into a brunette girl, grabbing her shoulders in putting her between me and paige. “help! nika, help me please.”
“what did you do?”
i wheezed as i spoke because i was out if breath. “i-”
the blonde girl cut me off, “she hit me.”
“you practically tackled me!”
paige smirked before running around nika towards me, hitting me over the head. she laughed as she ran away, “paige! i’m done.” i spoke as i lied on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
nika leaned above me, shaking her head while smiling, “get up,” she spoke, dragging out her words.
i groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, ignoring her.
her hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me onto my feet. “put me down. its colder on the floor.”
“no.”
once my feet were on the ground, i turned around to face her. i didn’t realize how close she was, because our faces were an inch apart. “not so bad up here, huh?”
“its horrible. i’m getting water.”
she snickered as i walked away, finding paige again. i walked over to the benches, grabbing my water from my bag.
“hm. look what the cat dragged in”
i turned to face the girl, “paige. what?” i sighed, “what are you talking about?”
“nevermind. i have a question.” the blonde sat down next to me, leaning to whisper into my ear, “what up with you and niks?”
“nothing! what?”
“you know what i mean,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me, “i mean she totally likes you.”
“first of all, shes just my friend and my teammate. second of all, this is very random.”
she stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “it would be cute.”
“i guess.”
paige made an explosion sound and motion with her hands. “so you admit to it?”
“fine, yes. shes cute.” the blonde pulled me into a hug and swayed back and forth. “ill make it happen.”
im shutting this idea down. “no, p. your doing nothing.”
“but-” i held a single finger to her lips, silencing her, “shhh.”
“please just let me! trust me it will go perfect.”
i closed my water bottle, placing it down next to me. i went to answer her but coach walked in, the rest of the ream following behind. “alright. lets get started! running laps! go!”
i was so sore. my legs felt like jello and everything hurt. i was laying on my bed on my stomach, scrolling on my phone. it was quiet, until nika came to my dorm again. she normally never came twice in a row, but i didn’t mind. “hey. whats up?”
“i need to talk to you.”
she was fiddling with her fingers and sweatshirts sleeves, a nervous expression pasted over her face. “i was talking to paige after practice today, and i-, uhm.”
“oh god.” i pulled my knees to my chest while sitting up in bed. breaking my eye contact with nika.
she closed the door and sat down in the beanbag chair in the corner of my room. “is it true?”
“yes,” i think i might kill paige. “niks, i don’t want things to to be weird.”
she stood up from the beanbag chair on the floor and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to me. “it wont be.”
“why, i thi-” i never got to finish my sentence.
nika grabbed the side of my face and placed her lips on mine, smiling into it. my hands made their way to her neck before she pulled away. “thats why.”
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I want to see you
Summary: it's obvious that Killer and you like each other, he makes it even more obvious with every touch he give you, but you want to touch him too... you want to see the expressions he makes under the helmet.
Pairing: Killer x reader
Warnings: sexual tension, suggestive language, fluff.
Masterlist
All the crew knew it, you both knew it... killer likes you and you like him, but the thing is: how can you show affection to someone who you cant see the face?
His small touches on your sholders, how protective he gets when you both are in battle, how he always looks at you or you think. You are amused about his personality, his pressence and his body, but you wished you could see his face. Nobody knows what hiddes behind that mask, you craved to see him and kiss him.
On the other hand, he just wants to have you underneath, to be with you in any form posible, but the fear of you seeing his face is so big that makes him unable to make any move.
One day you couldn't resist it more, you both were pinning and flirting between each other for all afternoon. After dinner, you decided to take manners on the subject. You called the blonde men while he was cleaning the table. His helmet instantly directioning to you.
Now that he is in front of you, so big and muscular, much taller than you. Your breath got catched away, his chest rised and stayed static, almost like he already knew what you where going to do. Both your bodies anticipating your actions, all the room got a new mood.
"What do you need?" he sounded like the air couldn't exit his lungs freely, obviously nervous.
"I think you already know."
Your bodies are almost touching, you feel your cheeks burning from how bold you are acting. You don't know where you are getting this bravery, he is surprised too. Your hands took place on his chest, slowly moving up and down, his heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. You tiptoed to reach his neck, smelling his scent... metal, cologne, salt and the previous dinner. His hands slowly wrapped your hips, thinking it's just a hug, but both of you knew it wasn't. He is so desirable, you couldn't keep your mouth away from his neck, bitting and kissing all the way. Small moans and groans escaping his lips, perfectly audible from where you are.
"(Y/N)... you are playing a dangerous game."
His grip tightened around your waist, slowly going down to your ass, gutural sounds escaping his lips and making clearly noticable that his cock was starting to rise up. Separating yourself from him was difficult for both but this was only the begining. You took his hand and make him follow you to his room.
Once the door closed, he became brutal, animalistic even. He ripped your clothes and throw you on the bed, that only made you more aroused, but you still wanted something. His hands laced with your while he was on top of you, groaning and moaning low. His body was pressing yours, dry humping you with passion, but that still can't feel right.
"Killer, Kil... stop." you didn't like the idea of stopping but that strange feeling in your stomach is not from lust anymore.
"What happened, i did something wrong?" you can't see his face but his voice sounded worried.
That's the problem, you can't see his face, it's something you can't ignore that fact anymore.
"I tought you wanted to... i tought we..." his weight lifted from yours, know his body shadowing yours under the light.
"i want," that answer came desperatly, "i really want but i can't without seeing you."
His body tensed up, seeing his fists clenching made you scared of him leaving you, of breaking your relationship... when kissing his neck, you trespassed a line that can't be restored.
"No." his voice was cold, like when he was in battle.
"I... i just want to feel your lips against mine, see the desire on your eyes." you started to feel the tears coming to your eyes, a knot on your throat.
"No." this time his voice shakes for a moment, he feels sad to see you like this but he can't do that, you wouldn't like his face, he doesn't even like it.
You began to get up, coping with the fact of what you made and preparing yourself from distancing yourself of him. He grabed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap, now you are on top.
"We can still do it, please, don't leave me now. I don't like my face, if you get out of that door, then i won't like all myself... not after seeing you almost cry because of me."
His hands rested on your hips, no more tight grip, just a feather shaky touch. His voice sounding like a plead made your heart broke. You placed a small kiss on the helmet, wrapping your hands around the nape.
"I have an idea, please, don't alarm yourself," you don't know what to expect from him now, but you want to encounter a solution.
Your hand made the way to the light switcher, leaving you both in the dark. Now, you don't see him, your breaths being the only thing that reassures your presences on the room.
"I am going to remove your helmet, now we don't see each other." even with that, you feel all his body tensing up, but he didnt's stop you while you make your way to the clip.
You tried a coupe of time but between the helmet and the hair, you couldn't take it off.
"Stop," his hands placed your on his chest, his voice weak from the fear of your judgement, even on the dark, "let me do it."
A clip revealed that now is free, helmet put aside on the bed. You waited a moment, not being able to fully believe you finally have him there, even if you can't see it.
Doubtfully, your hands went in the search of his features. When it met, Killer let out a small whine, surprised that someone is touching his face, after so much time. Your touch made him feel like he is on a rollercoaster, he likes it ... somehow.
Your fingertips travelled thru all his face, defining his features, memorizing them by the posibility of not being able to do this again. His lips are soft, partially open in expection, breathing heavily at your touches. He wants you to continue, he wants you to do more, he know wants you to see him too.
"What do you think?" for the first time since you know him, his voice sounded afraid.
"I think you are beautiful."
"You aren't seeing me."
"I think i am, i am feeling your face, your bangs spreading over your forehead, your piercing eyes, and your lips."
That last one sounded more desperate that you wanted it to be, but you couldn't help it. Lowering yourself catiously until you feel his breath, you finally met his lips. A choked gasp escaped both of your mouths. Soon, the small inoccent kiss transformed into a more savage one, desperate like it was at the begining.
"Fuck, you make me feel you good."
"You are beautiful, i like you, all of you." at this point you can't think about other things that weren't his lips an his body, so big and intoxicating.
"I like you too, you made me feel so good, fuck."
HIs hands find your ass on the darkness, pressing you against his lap, increasing even more the preasure and arousal on your body. His mouth is now the one attaching your neck, sinfull moans escaping your mouth.
"KILLER!!!" the door opened without warning, your captain entering the room and turning on the light, "Oh, sorry to interrumpt."
You closed your eyes instantly, while Kid closed the door again. The light was still on, you don't dare to open your eyes.
"(Y/N); why did you close your eyes?"
"You didn't wanted to be seen, soo... i will keep my eyes closed or we switch of the lights again."
A couples of seconds passed but the light was still on and no apparent movement was made. His face was so close you feel his lips brushin yours again.
"You can open them, i want you to open them and see me..."
You opened you eyes slowly, the image of Killer taking your breath away, it's more beautiful than you felt while touching his face. Your face starts burning from embarrasment on being if front of such a handsome men.
"And?"
"And what? you are fucking gorgeous, incredibly precious, and...."
You couldn't finish talking, Killer was crying? a small tear fell thru his cheek. His blue perfect eyes were now even more glossy, shining with the feeling of being adored. He didn't think it could be possible for someone to look at him with such adoration and that make him a little emotional.
"You are incredible, inside and outside."
"Only you see me like this, i onyl want you to see me like this."
Your finger made it's way to his cheek and brush the tear carefully, a soft smile appearing in your faces.
"Maybe we should stop the previous activity and go to sleep."
"Why?"
"Because you are too emotional and vulnerable, right now i want to hug you, not fuck you."
"Maybe i need a hug."
"And sleep."
He nodded and embraced yourself in the most deep hug you have ever experienced. He laid both of you in bed, now your head resting on his chest. His fingers starting to connect with yours, soon enough, you both felt asleep.
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Maybe i will do another part, but with a smut continuation, it depends on how well this is recieved.
#one piece imagine#one piece x reader#one piece#one piece x you#killer#killer x reader#killer imagine#killer x you#massacre soldier killer#massacre soldier killer x reader#massacre soldier killer x you#massacre soldier killer imagine#one piece killer#one piece killer imagine#one piece killer x reader#one piece killer x you
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Opening the local bubble tea store absolutely livid and shaking in rage and upset bc my bitch ass boss is too concerned about us sitting on the job to order the tea bags I requested Two Fucking Weeks Ago (it only takes like 4 or 5 days to ship) and so we're out and I had to hand wash the 1 reusable bag to make black tea and I have to strain the free floating tea leaves from the cold brew and I just KNOWWWW he's going to have something more to bitch about because he always does
Last straw on the camel's back, etc etc, I want to put in my two weeks notice by the end of this week. That's a goal for myself.
#speculation nation#i currently dont have a job lined up but im going to start applying Today#because i cant take this anymore. i cant fucking take this anymore.#i feel like im about to shatter from the strain of hos chokehold#8 years total under his thumb and for What? he doesnt appreciate me. he doesnt value me.#he's an asshole this place sucks and it makes me so sad because i really do care about the people here#but i cant. i cant fucking do it anymore.#im really glad im alone on shift rn bc ha ha ha. ill put up the mask for customers but i am#genuinely shaking rn. im so upset.#this being after he complained Again about people sitting on the job during the meeting last night like#shut UPPPP I DONT CAAAARE#YOU TRY WORKING WITH CHRONIC PAIN AND FATIGUE AND A JOB THAT DOESNT GIVE GENUINE BREAKS#'oh if you need to take a break then do it but just dont sit down on the job“#WHEN DO YOU THINK I COULD TAKE MY BREAK? IM WORKING ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!+#and when im.not working alone im working with trainees so i still cant leave the store unattended#im sick of him.im so sick of him and im THIIIIIIIIIS close to just breaking down here and now#i hate him i hate him i hate him i hate him i HATE HIM#negative/#sorry for the vent i just feel like.im about to blow up and everyone's busy so ic cant. vent properly#im not even done opening bc im too busy freaking out and pacing and being angry#and hes gonna watch me sitting here thru the cameras and be like Ho Hum Look at you immediately doing what i said not to#like fucking STOP!!!! WATCHING US!!!!!!! YOU FUCKING CREEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#IM SO SICK OF HIM WATCHING US THROUGH THE CAMERAS. HE HAS NO TRUST IN ME DOING MY JOB#0 value for me as a person or employee 0 value for my to this day dedication to this company#i want to send my heel through those front windows. watch them shatter. wreck the whole place#because fuck this place and fuck him#i wontttt bc i dont wanna go to jail lol but the temptation is there. i fucking hate his guts.#im going to put in my 2 weeks by the end of this week. im going to start applying to places Today. just fucking watch me.
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Tell us about The Guys what's their dynamic like
ok thats kind of on me for starting with the hardest character dynamic first
so. cocoa and luci. they're both characters that, narratively, are barely expected to be characters at all. let me explain. im entering unskippable cutscene mode. sorry <333
luci takes the role of the silly lil ai assistant... kinda. shes not supposed to be. shes Supposed to be just a basic guide/support mechanic, but she sure. Isn't. it was an accident. dont worry about it. nobody else did.
cocoa is cocoa. she wasn't always cocoa, but now she's all there is. easypeasy ^w^ she's like if an npc was a person, mostly. she just kinda stands or wanders around until shes needed, rarely speaks beyond basic preset responses, she just goes here :] shes just a silly lil thang, kinda confused but got the spirit, etc. And Also She Happens To Be The Highest Ranked Agent Here. dont worry about it. nobody else did.
they also happen to be, most likely, the two characters to change the most across the entire throughline. with like one exception, maybe. which is what makes this hard. im not going to waffle about too long, dont worry. probably. ill try.
so for a while it seems like...
...aka they dont seem to notice each other much at all. and it stays that way for pretty much the entire throughline! bbbecause everyones too busy running about to worry about The PA Voice and Their Shockingly Chill Coworker. unfortunately, The Problems.
see, they're both burying the lead. Hard.
because luci is The problem. Capital. as something that Super isnt supposed to be conscious (let alone alive,) she has a Lot of shit to figure out. and a Lot of issues. it takes a while for her to figure out her bearings (no thanks to everyone else, who was too busy squabbling about a "data compromise" and ""trying to find a new manager"". eyeroll.) but more or less, she's decided:
1) humans are fucking annoying. they worry about so much mess, care about all the wrong stuff, and insist on shoving it on other people. unfortunately, they're also deeply entertaining. theres 100% a superiority complex going on there.
2) she has Got to become something else. she wants something. deeply and desperately. its just... well, she's still figuring out what that is.
luci, as a character, is obsessed with Character and Relevancy. the deepest throes of passion and hatred, desire and purpose. to know for certain what your place is. (this doesnt say anything about her.) those that burn brightly like that never seem to die. not truly. (this says absolutely nothing about her.) to become a single, unshakable, irreplaceable star. (this means absolutely nothing about anything to her.)
and one of those things that grabbed her attention the most was that of abnormalities. irreplaceable, undying, bastions of Meaning. That was what it was. unfortunately, as Emotion isnt one of the things that she's inherently built with, it becomes a bit of an issue.
thus begs the question: how do you bring out that spark in something? and well, that's not a question she has the information to answer. however, if theres one thing shes good at, its Fucking Around And Finding Out ! and well, if there's some collateral damage or casualties about it, well. oops. not like they ever cared about death and the like here before. soooo whatever ^w^
and well, she has to practice her ominous dialogue with Someone who won't rat her out, soooo...
cocoa, on the other hand, is... well, she's different, for sure. that wasnt always her name, for one. or i guess, it always was. if i tried to explain her entire deal id be here another 10 paragraphs or so, but to make a long story short... living under the specific pressure that the city pushes onto its residents is taken better for some than others. cocoa is not one of these. the constant pressure of needing to provide and prove your worth to forces beyond your control put a ridiculous amount of strain on her, and even still, it could decide to snuff you out without a moments notice on a whim. and well, there's little you can do when you're someone like her.
its something she tried to bottle up for a long, long time. unfortunately, making it into Lcorp did not, in fact, help with this At All. and all of that dread and paranoia, the misguided self loathing, and the sheer inescapability of it all... well, of course she snapped. it wasn't anything loud, bombastic. just quiet. quietly, whoever it was that she used to be had vanished in an instant, snuffed by her own hand, before anything else could get the chance to do it first. and what remained was cocoa! a name to an absence. more Function than Person, she simply... became what was needed of her. and nothing more. and unfortunately, with how everything else was... this change slipped completely under the radar. for all except for one witness.
it doesnt mean anything to her. (it cant mean anything to her. not yet.)
all of that happens before the story even begins.
unfortunately, a superiority complex + the inability to process your own flaws + being allowed to be in control completely unchecked for an extended period of time allows luci to. spiral. to put it bluntly.
it becomes a horrible little race to figure out what exactly is going on before too many people end up dying in horrible ways. luci simply watches them run in circles like little mice. by the time they manage to scramble together enough to confront her, its a tiny group of maybe 4 against luci... and also cocoa. who, in trying to avoid thinking too hard about the meddling that luci was doing and the holes poked in her persona by the rest of the cast over time, has once again completely shut off in favor of simply doing whatever was asked of her. and well, luci was technically the one who had the authority to be dealing out directions, so... well. not gonna think about it too hard. shes had to suppress other agents before, so...
this, ultimately, becomes where cocoa's arc comes to a head. as stable as she seemed, turns out she was constantly teetering on a very dangerous edge. that edge between allowing outside influence, the bravery and will to push, to face uncertainty and risk... and erasing yourself entirely, forgoing the harms of failure and performance in favor of becoming something more akin to a tool, unable to perceive, but also unable to be hurt.
luci believes she knows cocoa. she's seen the depths of her-- she thinks-- has seen the dissatisfaction, the fear, the rage, the desire to reach and tear what she wants from anyone she can reach. for just a brief moment, she'd seen all of it, just before cocoa became... cocoa. and she sees herself in that. sympathy was not something that was afforded to her. it was not in her capability to feel that attachment. (it doesnt mean anything to her.) they were the same, werent they? held back by things out of their control. (it means absolutely nothing to her.) so it would be a kindness-- no, an act of pity, to grant this one the ability to truly Feel that, to Understand the self in its entirety. grant her that freedom. (it means absolutely nothing about anything to her.)
but to cocoa... this was just another will overriding her own. the reason something snapped-- she wanted to do good. to be good. but this world does not allow it. shes angry, yes. more than anything. but shes angry because of her own perceived uselessness. more than anything, she's exhausted. that buildup of anger and resentment-- it was something she desperately didn't want to inflict on others. so instead, she turned those teeth inward, and tore herself out for the crime of feeling. she doesnt want to act. she doesnt want to run. she doesnt want to be anything. she just wants to rest.
luci, insistent on her correctness but inherently oblivious, convinced she is giving a gift to someone she has done nothing but harm. and cocoa, afraid to let down the veneer of distance, to allow herself to want and hope-- afraid to take on the responsibility of being a Person again. but these two werent the only players in the game.
and well. cocoa makes her decision.
#piktalk#pikocs#projmoon#LONG ASS POST OK <333 they drive me fuckig insane ok 👍#anyway originally luci didnt feel much of anything towards cocoa other than the opportunist instinct#but she just. Decided. that she really liked this one. about as much as she could. and well. ok. Ok! Sure! Okay!!!!!!#given the time she couldve genuinely come to care about her i think. or smthn synonymous. unfortunately; the god complex.#and the unable to process emotions thing. and the inability to listen. and the hardcore projection. and-- .#cocoa never really Cared about her. she simply did her job. it took until well near the end for her to start getting annoyed tbh#she just. represses everything so goddamn hard she doesnt. notice. luci crossed Way Too Many Lines though--#--it was what pushed her into starting to try again. kind of. it was a final; desperate 'this cant be all there is.'#luci honestly barely even processes she's Particularly upset about it-- its. its a long ass story ok. she is so much All The Time. ok 👍#anyway luci is kind of me taking some of angela's thematics and shaking them around violently until some new freak came of it#and cocoa is cocoa. Shes Cocoa !
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I hate how even in asexual communities, it's still so hard to find other sex repulsed aces. Like idk it feels like no matter where I am, I'm the one who has a problem and I hate it. I never asked to be like this but at the same time I don't want people to keep treating me like I'm just damaged and need to be fixed. Or like it's fine as long as I don't impose it on other people...
idk how to explain to people that I'm not just internally tolerating things, I'm actually in a lot of pain over it. I'm not just disgusted, I'm panicking and upset over the fact that I feel disgust sometimes toward people I like very much actually. Idk I just feel like it's never talked about and it's extremely upsetting.
And the worst part is, if I tell people, everyone has their own assumptions about what "made me this way" and tbh that is just not something I'm comfortable with. My only choices are to either be uncomfortable because I'm panicking and being excluded from a lot of things (usually conversations but sometimes other things too) or to be uncomfortable because I set a boundary and asked people to stop and now everyone is either mad at me or making assumptions about me that I quite honestly don't think I'm okay directly addressing.
I don't know. I just wish there was some non-judgmental recognition that this makes so many things really really hard for me I guess.
#usually the assumptions are that i was sa'd and need to be 'fixed' in therapy#which is just. i dont even know how to explain how fucked up that is if you dont already see it#i dont want to talk about that with pretty much anyone. the only person ill talk to that about is my gf#and only when were alone and i know no ones going to judge me or see me breaking#i start shaking and crying and i cant stop and everytime i hear people making this assumption it puts me back in that headspace#where im so vulnerable and terrified and panicking#and i just hate it. i hate that other people can openly talk about their sexualities but mine is too personal#i do in a way want to be fixed but not with the outcome that other people would want#i just want to be okay. that is literally all i want. i still fully believe ill always be asexual#but when i tell people im sex repulsed its like they assume im secretly not asexual#i kinda think if they think that they probably also hate other asexuals but its just disguised better but idk#im just so tired of being uncomfortable all of the time. i hate it and i dont even know if its me that i hate or everyone else#id just like it to be neither someday#oh yeah also resources as in research and published studies and actually knowledgeable doctors are realllly hard to find#the majority is still overwhelming biased and believe that its a mental disorder and the result of sa too#and i just wish they would actually conduct studies without polluting them with their own biases all the time
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.
#officially we wont know how things will shake down until next week#but unofficially?? i think i already know. i cant explain how but. i think i know already which direction its gonna go#and its not like i havent been preparing for this for years but . man.#i genuinely dont know how im gonna do this guys. im being so fr.#im just starting to get my feet back under me from losing my friend like that and now im gonna get bowled over again#and its gonna be so much worse. and i dont know how im gonna get a job or fix my fucked gpa or even finish out the semester#im going home in a few weeks and my siblings and i are gonna put pink in our hair for october#and ofc by the time we do that we'll know. one way or another. and thatll be that.#nothing i can do about it. nothing i can do to stop it or make it better.#my brothers are still so fucking young man. my youngest brother doesnt even remember a time when it wasnt like this.#he's only ever known this version of her thats sick and exhausted and hollowed out like she isnt even there most of the time#and man. idk.#really i am so close to snapping and dropping out of school and this might just be what finally breaks the thread. i am being so fr.#winter speaks#personal#and theres so many projects that i want to do but i Know that i wont be able to do any of them for a while once it hits#and just. hhh. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
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I want to let the social anxiety win and disappear sometimes. Some more than others
#buzgie ❁#personal post#i dont think people get what its like to have pathological social anxiety#everything in life revolves talking to random people and i just cant do it#do you know what its like to get so socially anxious it's delusional or psychotic?#do you know what it's like to think every laugh in the building is making fun of you? hallucinating your name in strangers conversations?#tryimg to see a doctor and thinking that theyre leaving the room just to make fun of you with the entire staff team?#randomly remembering an awkward interaction with someone and hyperventilating and shaking without even realizing?#needing to stop and catch your breath because you remembered leaving a reddit comment earlier and youre terrified people will dogpile you#over something benign?#earlier i went to move my grocery cart twice and accidentally blocked someones way and just thinking about it to type it up makes me start#shaking and hyperventilating and tensing up and shit#do you know what its like for every awkward interaction to affect you like that? every day of your life?#it's an everyday thing#i dont get a break from this except for when i dont have social interactions
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They dont even know each other this is their relationship taking its first wobbling baby steps and they already want to fuck each other nasty style so badly
#Yakuza liveblog#majima does anything and kiryu would be like im not gay. im not gay im not gay#kiryu thought majima was going to crack his head open for no reason and he was like hes gonna kick me in the face? what an asshole#i keep thinking about the flagrant way majima just grabs kiryu. he doesnt even know him ... they dont know each other i cant stop emphasisin#and majima grabs kiryu by the fucking skull even though he doesnt like people grabbing his head or neck like it freaks him out#in phanto shimano brings his hand down on majimas head and shakes him around like a little doll and he was terrified b#even nishida sweet prince has to ask before touching him. in friday night (another fic) kiryu asks to touch him and he only makes it to his#stomach before majima starts to freak out ... so majima grabs him here. they barely know each other ... says a lot about how he comes off#and kiryu is so into it it hurts hes trying not to make eye contact. trying not to let majima know he flusters him god hes so young ...#hes posturing and majima would love to shatter his facade into tiny little pieces
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very little is as heartbreaking as boomers s1 arc - really her whole arc in general but season ones downward spiral culminating in That is just. so heartbreaking
#bsgliveblog23#bsg reboot#like dont even get me started.#athena is one of my forever faves but boomer...... i literally cant even think about her without that little feeling of heartache#FOILS. yet again i scream sob shaking proclaiming FOILS
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that same drawing professor gave us a thought exercise one day when we wrapped up class early: split into groups and determine what three books you would use to restart civilization if humanity and all technology was wiped out today.
A lot of people chose the dictionary, to keep language alive. Some people chose classic literature or religious texts, ethical guidelines or introductions to farming and cooking. all good stuff. would lead to some very scholarly societies
i, however, apparently am an asshole, because my three books were a dictionary (suggested by my group, maintain a consistent language and help us decipher any other texts we find), a boy scout handbook (camping, fire, foraging, mending; basic survival skills that we would need), and sun zhu’s the art of war, so that we may conquer and take the resources of all of the societies that had put no thought into their defense or longevity.
it did not start out as a competition, but somehow the professor ruled that my group won
#listen. if i have a group to feed and yall are reading shakespear im gonna shake you down for your lunch money/ crops if you even farm#and i was down to create feudalism again! hypothetically ofc#which *apparently* made me the bad guy in the group. i had t a job to do baby im gonna do it!#we cant all blow glass and read tarot in the commune! some of us are gonna have to kill!#all hypothetical of course but it was a fun exercise. sorry i ruined it by winning everyone#ramblings#like think about ethics and art all you want. but ive taken archaeology and shit. i know that art and a lot of that stuff doesnt start until#a society is stable enough to produce it. which is why im starting at pointy stick and working my way up
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This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.
I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.
(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)
Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.
And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.
I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.
And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.
But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.
But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.
And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.
So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.
And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.
But what if I hadn't known how to do that?
What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?
What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?
My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.
And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?
How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?
I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.
I think I'm gonna frame it.*
(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)
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Thinking about my failed cringe attempts at trying to "date"
#its lame#i hate being fooled or naive or whatever#i wanna shake my past self#i think about it a decent amount but today more than usual#this shit wasnt even that long ago tbf#like i started trying around the time i turned 24#and gave up fully after about a year and a half lol#priscilla nvr gives up tho so cant wait to play in the circus some more in the far future#hopefully im smarter tho
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telling them they have a small dick!
pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)
⤷ 18+, MDNI
tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.
a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)
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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary
Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’
Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.
Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it.
A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”
With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.”
In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.
“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.
Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.
He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.
My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to.
Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”
He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.
“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?”
Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?”
“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.
Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.
“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”
“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.
Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.
“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary.
Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”
With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”
A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”
“W-what?” Your voice croaked.
“They’re unreliable.”
“Want to know something else funny?”
Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.
He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”
-
On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar.
Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek.
Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.
Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.
“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling.
It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out.
“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.”
Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.
“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”
All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression.
“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”
“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”
He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”
“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”
Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.
He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”
-
You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.
Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.
“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”
“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this.
Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.
“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”
Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull.
“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.
“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”
“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl”
“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.
Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.
“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.
Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.
“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.
“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below.
“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.”
Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.
Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.
“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”
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Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date
“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.
Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort.
Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was.
Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.
Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand.
A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.
Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight.
My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.
His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more.
‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’
Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before.
“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end.
“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor.
Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.
Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard.
“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”
Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.
Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.
Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.
“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.
“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body.
Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core.
While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.
Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own.
“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands.
Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?”
Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”
Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.
Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.
Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”
-
Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs.
It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.
Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.
Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”
Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you.
He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.
For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been.
Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.
“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”
#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#gojo smut#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x you#gojo scenario#toji scenarios#gojo satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#toji x y/n#jujustsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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so freaking depressed right now
#IM SHAKING HIMAROUND A BUNCHHHH#i think he def blames carlo for their dads death#(dont even get me started on how their relationship w their dad is like. parallels <carlos tolerance/borderline dislike of him#vs how much he admires his father . primarily due to how he executed his role as a double agent so well . in his glory days at least)#he knows its extremely unreasonable though. like#carlo and him couldnt have done anything more than he did alone#but. he just is so mad with grief that it doesnt seem/feel that way#LIKE!!!! when he talks about his dad and the circumstances of his death he sounds. so so small#its not like he wished that he brought all of salieri's forces with him#(though i think theres like. an element of that in his wishful thinking)#it wasnt an option though of course#but CARLO was an option !!#he couldve asked his brother who he had a somewhat stable relationship with him!! who somewhat always had his back !!#but ofc they fought and thats what lead to their strained relationship. but still#if carlo hadnt reacted like that and they went together. it still wouldve ended the same#nothing wouldve like. Changed#only that carlo had been there with him on one of the worst days of his life#and i think thats a primary reason of why he cant forgive carlo . bc at the end of the day#carlo was responsible for him being alone . IDKKK top ten brothers that r so fucked uo#carlo kindve deserevd that shovel . ONE GOOD HIT !!#dont even get me started on how this makes his declaration of carlo being his brother 10x more sadder#txt
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
—
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
#f1#max verstappen#max verstappen smut#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader
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hyper sensitive reader whose too clumsy for her own good :((
every time you accidentally break something tears well up in your eyes but jj has learned the routine to calm you down in seconds. or whenever you stupidly hurt yourself, he would start ‘beating up’ whatever inanimate object that got you that day, making you whine and pout. “yo, what’d you jus say to my girl? yeah, yeah that’s what I thought. stupid cabinet.” pulling a giggle from your lips as your hand caresses the small red indent on your forehead.
but today, you’d had it.
you were having a very long week at work, dealing with your asshole manager who would yell at you for your klutzy ways until your eyes were stinging and rude customers that would send you judgmental glances every time you passed.
so when friday finally came around, you decided to make a special dinner for jj. his favorite, spagetti with meatballs. okay, maybe it wasn’t that special but he absolutely adored it. he’d been so patient with you all week even when you’d snap at him for little things, the stress weighing down on your shoulders making you overly irritable.
he was relaxed on the couch, feet kicked up as a joint sat loosely between his fingers. he checked on you every few minutes, getting in position to jump to his feet every time there was loud clatter but it would only be you grabbing a pan from the cupboard or digging through the pantry. he smiled softly to himself as he watched his girl do something so sweet for him.
that was, until the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. he was beside you in seconds, ushering you to the side to not get cut. “careful, baby. stay still, let me grab the broom.” he jumps right into action, hand against your stomach as a shield before disappearing into the pantry. your lip quivers and you bite down on it, willing yourself not to cry.
don’t cry. please don’t cry.
he returns, locked and loaded as his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, a focused habit. “alright, how do one go about this?” he mutters to himself, staring the floor down like a man on a mission.
before you can help it a sob escapes your lips and his head snaps towards you as you bury your face in your hands, body heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” you cry, and he’s already by your side like a dog trained. “heyy, it’s alright. you didn’t do anything wrong, kid. no need to cry over spilled milk, right?“
after a moment of no response he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling your hands down and his heart lurches at your tear stained cheeks, big doe eyes all watery. “it ain’t no biggie, sugar. we’ll clean this up in no time.” his thumb strokes off the fallen tears but they just keep coming.
“god, how can I be so incompetent?” your voice shakes, the word laced with resentment towards yourself and his eyebrows furrow in anger on to how you could say such a thing. “hey.” his tone is laced with authority and it makes you freeze, wide eyes staring up at his baby blues with a gulp. “knock that off. no one’s allowed to talk about my girl that way, not even my girl. alright, you hear me?”
you slowly nod your head, your sniffles being the only sound that fill the room before his expression softens. “you wanna tell me what’s going on with you, doll? I got a feelin’ this is about more than just s’getti sauce, yeah?”
you sheepishly nod in agreement and he fights a smile. “talk to me.”
“I just-..” you sigh, closing your eyes to collect yourself as your chin begins to tremble. his thumb runs over the skin as though to smooth it out and your eyes meet his again. “jus’ feels like I can never do anything right. think something’s wrong with me.” you sniffle.
“cant help but break everything I touch. I’m just so- so.. clumsy.” you huff, and the tears had finally slowed down. his bottom lip juts out in a pout, and you know hes making fun of you in his jj way.
“it’s not funny!” your voice is whiny, and the smile creeping onto his face makes you roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lip tug up from his antics. “I’m serious, baby.”
“I know, I know— I’m sorry.” He stifles back a laugh before he collects himself, tilting his head slightly as his hand finds its home on your cheek. “come on, darlin’. there ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, alright? trust me. you’re doin’ just fine. if you break a few things along the way, so what? ain’t gon’ break ya’, is it?” he awaits your response, eyebrows raising in questioning.
you huff once again, a few strands of hair blowing with your breath. “guess not.” you mutter in your adorably stubborn way and he finally flashes that charming smile. “that’s right. and for the record, I like it.” he shrugs his shoulders shamelessly, his smile turning smug, telling you he’s about to say something stupid.
you chuckle and roll your eyes, looking away from him. “no, I’m serious. I love it, actually. gives my savior complex somethin’ to do.” you finally laugh, sniffling a few more times until there was no evidence of tears left.
“jus’ wanted to make you dinner, j.” you pout, but your demeanor tells him you’re all cheered up. gave him a scare for a second, worried he wasn’t gonna be able to. “I know you did, princess.” he cooes, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips before adding a quick pinch to your nose with his middle and pointer fingers.
“why don’t you go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll handle this?” he gestures his head towards the bedroom and you sigh, feeling guilty. “then I think I know somethin’ else I can eat.” he smirks, eyeing you down and just like that, the guilts gone.
“in your dreams, maybank.” you stalk away from him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pull your shirt over your head on the way and he gawks, tonguing the inside of his cheek “every night, baby!”
yeah, he was definitely getting some tonight.
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#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank smut#outer banks#jj mayback x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#john b routledge#john b smut#outer banks fluff#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine
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