#Pre-Anger Management
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DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop
Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.
Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.
They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.
Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.
The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.
It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.
Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.
Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.
Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.
He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.
He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.
"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.
"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"
Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.
"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"
Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."
"I'm sorry Charles"
"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "
Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.
This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.
No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.
Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.
Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.
But Danny didn't stop there.
Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.
People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.
Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.
Not a single staff member in sight, either.
Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.
Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.
If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.
As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.
Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.
He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.
Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '
Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#One hell of a good bellhop#Part 1#The Fenton kids find questionable employement#Charles is ther emotional support grandpa#Danny is vibing in his new haunt#The bats are watching#always watching#Pre-Anger Management
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Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help
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Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.
The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.
Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.
The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.
That social worker.
“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.
“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”
He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”
“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”
Nightingale frowned a little at that.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”
“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”
“You wanted to work here.”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.”
Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.
She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?
Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.
“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.
“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”
She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”
Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”
Jason considered her.
Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.
It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.
Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.
For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.
And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.
He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.
“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”
“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”
Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.
“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”
Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.
“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”
Oh.
Those.
“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”
He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.
“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”
Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.
“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”
Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.
#dpxdc#jazz fen#jason todd#social worker jazz#social worker jazz fenton#anger management ship#anger management#pre anger management#jason todd x jazz fenton#i don't know why i keep writing scenes where Jazz writes resumes to apply to work for crime bosses but it just feels right in my soul okay#the real reason Jason wears a full face helmet is so people can't tell when he utterly fails to hide his emotions about something#the idea of social worker jazz working in crime alley has completely consumed me mind body and soul
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Adult Dan, Baby Danny and Dani
Poly Dan x Harley x Ivy
Jason x Jazz
Harley heard how someone new had killed the Joker and made her way to thank them; after all, he took all that the Joker had in money and goons.
She saw the "Crime Boss" trying to feed two toddlers a bottle and failing…
That was how Harley and Ivy ended up as Mom Ivy and Mom Harley to the toddlers.
Don't ask how; Ivy was just so happy she could touch the four without them dying or being poisoned so she moved in.
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Dan just gave up on the world.
What has he done to be punished that way? Tell me, Clockwork!
First, he turns him more human!
Then he sent him here with his younger self's clone, his younger self, and sister to this dimension!
And then he meets a Clown who tries to kill him only for him to rip out his head (think of Gojo taking Jogo head).
Then he has to try to find a way to take care of two babies and a teenager, only for that crazy lady to walk into his life!
The next thing he knows, he is living with her and her girlfriend.
Somehow being together with both!
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Both Ivy and Harley think that Dan was bad at naming children, who names them Daniel/Danny and Danielle/Ellie.
At least Jasmine is a different name, but then she is his little sister.
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Robin Jason.
Jason was pretty proud to tell Batman that the Great Robin had found the one who killed the Joker.
"He was a Dad who Joker attacked and he killed him in self Defense. Case Closed. Bonus He has a cute sister!"
Not that anyone would put him on trial in Gotham, even if Batman or the police tried.
So Batman and Jim made sure that the Joker was really dead and didn't fake it.
GCPD: " His head is 10 meters away from his body!"
James Gordon:" Just to make sure of it. We will Burn the body now."
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And
Jason in school talked to the sister of the one who killed the Joker, for a mission he says.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#Dan Phantom#dc#dp#Human Dan#well more Human the Ghost Dan#robin Jason#pre-Red Hood#dead Joker#Joker#dcau#Jazz Fenton#Jason x Jazz#is it even Anger managment if it's pre-Red Hood#dc comics#batman#dc x dp#dp + dc#dp x dc#James Gordon#Jim Gordon#Harley Qinn#baby Danny#Baby Dani#Dani Fenton#Danielle Phantom#Ellie Fenton#Poison Ivy#Dan x Ivy x Harley
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So
BEHOLD
https://archiveofourown.org/works/44696047
(Not sure about title and summary. But whatever).
#fake dating#anger management#sort of#pre relationship#jason todd#dead jokes#like dad jokes but morbid#fanfic recommendation#fanfiction#batfam#batman#danny phantom crossover#danny phantom#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover
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My most unpopular Gilmore Girls opinion is that it was totally fair for Anna Nardini not to tell Luke that she was pregnant….Totally fair for any women in any situation but specifically understandable given what we know about Luke pre-show honestly
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it's 2024 and empathising with the oppressed is still somehow controversial
#oh right because that's communism right right#god i want to hate everyone#took sociology electives and all it did was give me the vocabulary to better explain why the world is fucked up#feels like they should have come with 'anger management' and 'breathing exercises' pre requisites
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Masterpost of TLT metas
This is mostly for my own reference, as tagging doesn't seem to guarantee something being findable on Tumblr...but if you like wildly overthinking lesbian necromancers in space, enjoy!
Overthinking the Fifth House:
What is a "Speaker to the Dead"?
Actually, Magnus Quinn isn't terrible at sword fighting
Imperial complicity: Abigail the First
Pyschopomp: Abigail Pent and Hecate
Did Teacher conspire with Cytherea to kill the Fifth?
What does the Fifth House actually do?
The Fourth and the Fifth can never just be family
Cytherea's political observations at the anniversary dinner
Abigail Pent's affect: ghosts and autism
Were the Fourth wards of the Fifth?
Abigail probably knew most of the scions as children
Magnus Quinn's very understandable anger
Fifth House necromancy is not neat and tidy
Are Abigail and Magnus an exception to the exploitative nature of cavaliership?
"Abigail Pent literally brought her husband and look where that got her" (the Fifth in TUG)
The Fifth's relationship dynamic
The Fifth's relationship is unconventional in a number of ways
The queer-coding of Abigail and Magnus' relationship
Abigail and Palamedes, and knowing in the River
Was Isaac the ward of the Fifth?
Did Magnus manage to draw his sword before Cytherea killed him? (and why he probably had to watch his wife die)
How did Abigail know she was murdered by a Lyctor?
Fifth House necromancy is straight out of the Odyssey
The politics of the anniversary dinner
Was Magnus born outside of the Dominicus system?
Overthinking John Gaius:
The one time John was happy was playing Jesus
Is Alecto's body made from John's?
Are there atheists in the Nine Houses?
Why isn't John's daughter a necromancer?
The horrors of love go both ways: why John could have asked Alecto 'what have you done to me?'
Why M- may have really hoped John was on drugs
What is it with guys called Jo(h)n and getting disintegrated? (John and Dr Manhattan)
John's conference call with his CIA handlers
Watching your friend turn into an eldritch horror
Why does G1deon look so weird? (Jod regrew him from an arm)
When is a friendship bracelet not a friendship bracelet?
Why did John have G1deon hunt Harrow? (with bonus update)
The 'indelible' sin of Lyctorhood and John's shoddy plagiarism of Catholicism
Are John Gaius and Abigail Pent so different?
What was Jod's plan at Canaan House?
John and Ianthe tread the Eightfold path
The Mithraeum is more than a joke about cows
When was John Gaius born? (And another)
John Gaius and the tragic Orestes
John and Jesus writing sins in the sand
John and Nona's echoing chapters
John's motivations
Overthinking the Nine Houses:
'No retainers, no attendants, no domestics'
Funerary customs and the violence of John's silence
Juno Zeta and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time
The horror of the River bubble
Every instance of 'is this how it happens' in HTN
Feudalism is still shitty even if you make it queer and sex positive
How do stele work?
Thought crime in the Nine Houses
The Houses have a population the size of Canada
What must it be like to fight the Houses?
You know what can't have been fun? Merv wing's megatruck on Varun day...
Augustine's very Catholic hobby (decorating skeletons)
Necromancers are not thin in a conventionally attractive way
Matching the Houses with the planets of the solar system
Why don't the Nine Houses have (consistent) vaccination or varifocals?
How would the Houses react to the deaths at Canaan House?
How does Wake understand her own name (languages over 10,000 years)
What pre-resurrection texts are known in the Houses?
Camilla and Palamedes very Platonic relationship
The horrors the Cohort found at Canaan House
Do the Houses understand the tech keeping them alive?
Overthinking House religion:
What do the Houses believe about death?
Was M's nun a Franciscan?
Cavaliership and arbitrary socio-religious structures
Ritual scarification
Sacraments and sacramentals
What did Silas think god wanted at Canaan House?
In defense of Silas
There's no such thing as a 'good' necro/cav relationship
Veiling and shaving in Ninth House cult practice
Tongue-in-cheek thoughts on Eighth and Sixth religion
A very long deep-dive on House belief and practice
Overthinking Harrowhark Nonagesimus:
'The meat of your meat...belonged to god' and 'that is how meat loves meat'
The horror of parental touch: Harrow, John Gaius, and Abigail Pent
Why is Harrow so obsessed with Abigail's hands?
Frontline Titties of the Fifth and transgressive necro/cav relationships
Harrow, Wake, and permeability of the soul in HTN
Bible studies for weird queer necromancers:
Epiphany: revealing god's child to the wider world
The Holy Innocents and the creche massacre
The Virgin Mary and Commander Wake
John Gaius and John the Baptist
Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection
What's the significance of Paul?
St Paul's theology of gender and sexuality and the House theology of cavaliership
Maundy Thursday: consuming another for eternal life
Harrow and the Harrowing of Hell
#the locked tomb#tlt meta#I like thinking about TLT a normal amount#Please do reply or reblog with your ideas or send asks!
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(yandere! cringe loser harem x gn! asshole reader) (shitpost)
you were an asshole and you knew it. yet, something about you just manages to pull people in... which is why you were currently in this situation.
LOSER #1: we are in 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖓⛓️🥀
LOSER #2: our hearts yearn for more :(
LOSER #3: you don't want to mess with us 👿
YOU: u all r so cringe what the fuck
you facepalm at their messages, face twisting in mild disgust. you had met these losers on a discord server and they were simping for you the second you sent a message.
they were so damn cringe, like pre pubescent boys that were rejected and turned emo to cope with the heartbreak. constantly quoting sad lyrics, trying to be 'cool' and stuff like that...
and you decided to give them a chance.
why? well it was because you thought it would be funny and you were bored. i mean, some loser men wanted your attention and you were willing to give it... so why not?
it's not like they were going to do anything else anyways. other than simp and beg you for attention, right? and if they did you'd just doxx them and break their hearts.
LOSER #2: we are only cringe for you ❤️
LOSER #1: 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 ⛓️🥀
YOU: what do chains n roses have to do with this
LOSER #1: 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌
LOSER #2: saviour please just be with us :(
LOSER #3: you don't want to see us mad...
seriously, they were just so damn cringe... but yet, you couldn't help but allow them a fraction of your time.
YOU: ohhh so scary 💀💀💀
LOSER #3: yes we are
YOU: 💀💀💀
LOSER #2: you look really attractive in your pyjamas...
what?
you immediately jump out of bed, looking out of your window as you squint. you try looking around for anyone who might've been looking into your window but to no avail.
what the hell? was he actually stalking you? i mean, you knew this loser had a bit of a history with stalking but...
YOU: what the hell r u actually here
YOU: pls say ur joking or i will block
LOSER #1: are you worried? don't worry, 𝖜𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 ⛓️🥀
LOSER #3: yeah as long as you don't anger us...
you narrow your eyes at their messages, slamming your laptop shut as you call up your friends. what the hell, these losers were taking their joking too far... or maybe it's just karma for all the kids you bullied in roblox meepcity 💀
however, as soon as your friend accepted the call, you were met with the voice of someone unfamiliar.
"darling, you're so adorable when you're actually worried."
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere loser harem#yandere loser harem x reader#suiana brainrotting#suiana rambling
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𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐒 & 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒— gojo satoru
pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader
summary: you have no clue how gojo managed to get that photograph of you, but what you do know is that you'll do anything to get it back.
genre: fluff, friends to something more, pre-relationship, humor(?)
notes: geto is tired of gojo's antics, you kiss gojo and he's an idiot
wc: ~2.3k
"give it to me!"
geto pauses when he hears a familiar voice shouting, and he lifts his gaze from the ground just in time to see you tackle gojo. or try to tackle gojo.
he shakes his head when he hears gojo laugh, waving one of his arms straight up in the air as he holds something out of your reach. geto remains in his spot, throwing a glance around the park before checking his watch to try and determine if it's too late for him to bail on today's hangout.
"hey, suguru! come check this out!"
geto shuts his eyes briefly when you immediately start to punch gojo, steeling himself before slowly making his way over to the two of you. there's a glossy piece of paper held tightly in between gojo's fingers, and he waves it in geto's direction as you try your best to reach for it. it's only when he gets close enough to gojo that he realizes that he's holding a photograph, and he only sighs as gojo shoves it into his face.
"look at this!" he practically yells into geto's face, yelping when you dig your fingers into his ribcage. gojo shoves the photograph into geto's hand, pouting when he doesn't take it before deciding to scramble away from the two of you. he huffs as he points at you, giving geto a panicked look. "grab them!"
geto reluctantly listens to gojo, wrapping his arms around your waist as you thrash in his hold. your attempts to claw your way out of geto's hold fail, and you let out a frustrated huff when you realize that he's hidden his hands in the sleeves of his shirt to avoid the aggressive scratching of your nails.
"let me go!" you cry out, your voice cracking as geto tightens his hold. gojo merely watches the two of you with a smile before turning his back to you, giggling as he studies the picture in his hands. geto raises an eyebrow when he catches a glimpse of the fond look on gojo's face, and he loosens his hold on you as he tilts his head questioningly.
"why are the two of you fighting?" he asks tiredly, pulling you closer to him when you attempt to sprint out of his hold. he's almost certain that gojo's in the wrong in this situation, but that doesn't mean he wants you to go and kill his best friend.
"no reason," gojo hums, still facing away from you as he snickers.
"you liar!" you yell, moving to lunge at him before you remember geto is still holding you back. you turn to face him, eyebrows furrowed in anger as you motion towards gojo accusingly. "satoru stole one of my childhood pictures and he refuses to give it back!"
"satoru, give it back," geto says dully, sighing softly as gojo scoffs.
"what? no way!" he argues, shaking his head before facing you. "you're not getting this back."
"satoru!" geto says sharply, earning a betrayed look. gojo moves towards the two of you, irritation on his face as he holds out his hand and by extension, the photograph.
"thanks," you breathe, reaching out to grab it. your fingers barely manage to skim the edge of the glossy paper before gojo's pulling it back, cackling obnoxiously as he flicks your forehead. you freeze in geto's arms, and he finds himself wishing he had never gotten out of bed that morning as you turn to address him. "suguru?"
"yeah?"
"let me go."
geto sighs in defeat, releasing you before gently pushing you towards gojo. "yeah, okay."
you lunge towards gojo without saying anything else, and geto watches silently as gojo does his best to avoid you, weaving in between bushes and benches and laughing as you climb over them in an effort to get to him more quickly.
"satoru, just give that back to me!" you shout after him, receiving another bubbly laugh in response.
"no!"
"why do you even want that picture?" you ask, jumping off a bench and trying to grab onto his jacket. he twists out of your way, narrowly avoiding you and running around the bench to ensure that there's something between the two of you. he shrugs half-heartedly as he glances at the photograph, a faint smile tugging on his lips as he tucks it up his sleeve.
"what even is the picture?" geto asks, drawing your attention with his question. you pause slightly, eyes narrowing when gojo dissolves into giggles once more.
"it's nothing," you say hesitantly, looking down at the ground with feigned interest as you try to dismiss his question. geto hums in disbelief, doubt clear on his face as you stiffen at his reaction.
"if it's nothing, then why are you so hell-bent on getting it back?"
you remain silent, and gojo leans forward to steady himself against the bench as he keeps laughing.
"if— if you don't tell him, i will," gojo gasps out, earning a scathing glare from you.
"don't you dare!" you hiss, bending down to pick up a rock and throw it at him. he gasps when it hits his forehead, reaching up to rub at the reddening spot as he turns to whine at geto.
"you see the way they treat me?" he gripes, ignoring the way you scowl. "that's no way to treat a best friend."
"shoko's my best friend. not you," you grumble, crossing your arms when gojo all but wails at your statement. your eyes widen when you see gojo compose himself and give you a sly grin, his fingers nimbly pulling out the photo once again to show geto.
"look!" gojo exclaims, shoving the photograph into geto's space once more. a sharp cry of protest leaves your lips, but geto can't deny that he's curious to see the picture you're so adamant on hiding. there's a brief moment of silence during which geto lets his eyes wander over the photograph before raising his gaze to meet yours.
and then he laughs.
"suguru!" you cry out, jaw dropping as he stumbles back from gojo and shaking his head in an attempt to stop his laughter. he manages to compose himself briefly, breaking down into laughter once again when he steals another glance at the picture. "that's it!"
geto's eyes widen as you clamber onto the bench that had been separating you and gojo, taking a few steps back as you narrow your eyes.
"hey, remember," he starts, shrugging nonchalantly as he steps to the side. "this is all satoru's fault."
"you're right," you growl, your gaze shifting to gojo as you lunge. gojo manages to turn around just before you make contact with him, a strained yelp leaving him as you manage to finally, finally, tackle him.
geto winces as gojo's back connect with the pavement, his neck stretched forward in an attempt to keep his head from smacking against the concrete. it isn't necessary, considering the fact that you had thought to cradle gojo's head with your hand just in case that happened.
gojo scowls, ready to yell at you for knocking him down but going silent when he peers up at you over his now-askew sunglasses. you sit atop of him, the fall causing your legs to naturally fall on either side of his waist and causing you to essentially straddle his torso. your faces are mere centimeters apart, your attempt to cushion his head causing you to lean forwards in order to be able to do so. your breath catches in your throat when his nose brushes against yours, and you only pull away when you hear geto try and stifle an amused laugh.
"hey! ow!" gojo complains when you retract your hand, letting his head fall flat against the floor. you give him a flat look, wasting no time before attempting to snatch the picture out of his hand. a grin spreads across his face as he extends his arm against the ground, effectively "raising" the picture above his head and out of your reach.
you flinch when you feel his other hand grab onto your waist, doing your best to reach over his smug face and grab the photograph. his hand tightens as he tries to keep you in place, and he eventually glances to the side to send geto a pleading look.
"don't you dare butt in!" you growl at geto, still reaching out for the picture.
"help me!" gojo says, whining when you somehow manage to smack his sunglasses off his face.
"sorry," geto says unapologetically, smirking as he notices a blush crawl up gojo's neck. "i'm just enjoying the show."
"gojo," you say sharply, the use off his last name making him freeze in place. "just give me back the photograph. why do you even want it?"
"it's cute!" gojo responds. geto holds his breath at his words, watching the way you seem to falter at his reply. your glare softens the slightest bit as you look down at him and sigh softly, about to give up on your attempts and let him keep the picture, when he speaks once more. "and besides, it's good blackmail material."
geto resists the urge to slap his palm against his forehead as your glare returns, and he finds himself wondering if gojo really is that dense and stupid or if he's just really good at faking it.
deep down, he knows the answer.
"i'm just being honest!" gojo says in an attempt to defend himself from your onslaught of mild slaps.
"a little too honest," geto mutters to himself, shaking his head as gojo tries to wriggle out from under you. "and at the same time, not honest enough."
"satoru, please," you say tiredly, leaning back and poking his ribs. "what will it take for you to give me that photo?"
"a kiss," geto volunteers half-seriously, earning a horrified look from you. gojo laughs from his spot on the floor, leaning up and puckering his lips as you try to push him away.
"yeah!" he agrees. "c'mon, one kiss and the picture is yours."
his laughter continues as you huff, giving geto a glare before looking down at gojo.
"do you agree?" you ask quietly, eyes focused on gojo's face as he looks up at you with a smile. you look away after a few seconds, unable to handle the way he looks splayed out on the ground; all rosy cheeks and smiles as his eyes shine mischievously.
"agree to what?" he asks teasingly, waving the picture around. "a kiss in exchange for the picture? yeah, it's not like you'll actually kiss m—"
gojo's words get cut off as you cup his face in your hands, leaning down to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. he lets out a muffled noise, his eyes widening in surprise briefly before they flutter shut. his lips move instinctively against yours, cheeks glowing bright red as the hand on your hip moves until his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
he looks up at you dazedly when you pull away, and you avoid his eyes as you reach over and finally, finally pluck the picture from his grasp. you waste no time in standing, the arm around your waist falling limply to his side as he keeps staring. the only sound that's heard is the ripping of paper, and you move silently towards the trash can to dispose of the remains of the photograph.
you turn away from geto and gojo, embarrassment and nervousness swirling in your stomach as you realized that you just kissed gojo out of all people and geto was there to witness it all. a chime from your phone has you ignoring gojo's gaze, and you hum lightly when you see an unread message from shoko.
"shoko says she's waiting for us at the arcade," you state, finally breaking the silence. you glance briefly at gojo, feeling your cheeks heat up when you see that he's still looking at you. you turn your back to the two boys, motioning for them to follow you as you start walking away. "c'mon, we're already late."
neither one of them notices the way you lightly touch your fingers to your lips, scoffing lightly and shaking your head before walking towards the entrance of the park.
"satoru?" geto says, attempting to grab his friend's attention.
"they actually kissed me," gojo replies quietly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look up at geto. there's a sort of sparkle in gojo's eyes that only seems to be present when you're around, and geto can't help but smile when gojo looks up at him with a goofy grin.
"yeah, they did," geto says, bending down to pick up the pair of forgotten sunglasses. he hands them to gojo when he finally stands, watching as the taller boy dusts himself off before slipping the frames back onto his face. the dark lenses do little to cover the blush on gojo's face, and geto simply turns to follow after you. "come on, loverboy."
gojo makes a faint noise of protest but otherwise remains silent as he falls into step with geto, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as exit the park. he catches your eye when they come to a stop in front of you and shoko, and he immediately look away as he feels his cheeks and ears heat up.
geto wastes no time in greeting shoko, giving her a friendly hug and messing with her hair as she swats him away. it's only when she turns to face gojo that she pauses, stifling a smile as she looks at you and geto in confusion.
"why does satoru look like a tomato?"
reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo imagine#gojou imagine#satoru x reader#gojo satoru imagine#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you
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✧ 𝖇𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖓 ✧
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ɪᴅᴏʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
☆⋆｡🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩ - PART 2
⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘯𝘥-𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳-𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘋𝘦𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘴. 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩; 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺.
⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, (𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥)𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮/𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (𝘯𝘰𝘵 on 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳), 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴, 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘮 + 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮(?)
⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,420
⭒ a/n: my first story! hope this is satisfactory :) sorry if my writing is difficult to understand or cringy!!
will you venture down this path?
every few months your manager tells you to attend a celebrity fundraiser gala. 2 years ago you'd never know that these events were only breeding grounds for filthy scandals. now here you are, standing in the corners of a dark ballroom with stars dangling from the ceiling.
you are an idol, the embodiment of purity and song. another puppet forced to take on a false persona of endless joy, most would say. but you? you actually loved the spotlight. to you, that persona is your truth. you bathe in the attention and love of others, you live for it.
so why weren't you with the crowd? why not be in the centre of it all? it's because he was there. he was stealing the place you've shed blood, sweat, and tears for with such ease. effortlessly charming everyone even with that poker face. Deimos. a miracle rockstar who rose in fame shortly after your debut. instantly landing himself in the top #5 leaderboard after the release of his first album.
you were both from the same agency. you've seen him around the company building a couple of times, more frequently during your early pre-debut years. you'd pass brief glances at each other whenever you crossed paths in the hallways or practice rooms. you couldn't understand where your anger and envy emerged from despite never talking to him before.
maybe it was his obnoxious grin?
the fact he surpassed your fame within a shorter time?
his voice that hypnotises even you?
or the copious amount of money he sends during your ig live, begging you to notice the anonymous user?
he had shorter hair back then, dyed a different colour. now he has more accessories, a bigger build, longer hair, and dull eyes that only seemed to brighten whenever you catch him staring at you. you noticed he still stood at around 6'5 (195 cm), even taller with his black platform boots.
you'd try to send telepathic brain frequencies and (not so) intimidating glares at him, seeing if his blank face would falter (it didn't). instead, it made him glance in your direction. your frustration increases, and you blow a raspberry at him without thinking clearly... his reaction? an amused smirk.
instant embarrassment rises to your head. unable to handle the atmosphere inside the room, you immediately run out into the hallway. your brain begins to fuzz up, and you're not thinking clearly- you don't know if it's from the alcohol or the pure shame of blowing a raspberry at him. what are you? a preschooler?
blind to your surroundings, you don't notice the hulking figure walking towards you at full speed. calming yourself, you turn back to the ballroom to end the night. only to bump your face into a sturdy chest, that was not so covered by the tight, black button-up shirt of your rival (his nips were barely out).
you profusely apologise to the stranger until you look up to meet the heterochromatic eyes of Deimos. black and gold with slits, like a feline. and like a feline, his presence was threatening. this was the closest you've ever been to him and you can't help but think that people are blind. why do people crowd around him like he's an oasis? the way his eyes lit up a little too bright, and his face contorts into that of a devoted lover brought no comfort to you.
why does he look like that?
"y/n," he finally pants out, "y/n... you're looking at me."
what the fuck?
"i'm your biggest fan."
backing up uncomfortably, you slowly process his words before replying.
"...you are?"
if Deimos had a tail, it'd be wagging like crazy right now.
"yeah... i've been a fan since your performance at the spring festival. not sure if you remember but..." he trails off.
the spring festival? i don't remember going to any spri- holy shit.
3 years ago. you sang a duet at the town's spring festival with a friend, back then you weren't even a trainee yet. so how coincidental is it that the Deimos was watching you from somewhere in the crowd? that you both ended up in the same agency?
wait. does this mean.... Deimos adores me? as a fan? my fan?
this was too good to be true. your rival, the hottest star among stars, absolutely smitten by you? claiming to be your fan? your ego has never been higher. you decide to indulge him with a conversation.
surprisingly, the conversation was deeply meaningful. you found common interests with him- you shared favourite songs, media, and hobbies... "woman after my own heart," he snickers. soon, any past resentment towards him just.. washes away. gone, buried.
you naturally gravitate towards each other, like the earth and the apple from a tree, a pull. how long has it been since you've enjoyed talking to someone like this? has your bitter envy prevented you from forming a raw friendship with him all this time?
it feels surreal. he asks you for an autograph to commemorate the celebration of a blooming friendship and you agree, asking him if he had a pen and paper. he chuckles and says no, opting to whisk you away into an empty room. not creepy at all.
inside the room, he sits you down on the bed and searches his pockets for an object. you grow curious until he unsheathes out... a combat knife. shitshitshit- he's going to kill me! i knew this was suspicious-
he casually offers you the blade.
"use this." he says while untucking his shirt.
you stare at him as he had grown a second head, "...what?"
he nonchalantly replies while displaying his lower right abdomen, "to write? y'know, your autograph?"
it's official. you were absolutely fucking terrified of Deimos. he tells you to carve out your name on his body as if he was asking for a pack of ketchup at mcdonalds!! you were getting queasy, mind running though all the possible scenarios and options to get out of this.
"you not backing up now are you, songbird?"
his eyes bear holes into your body.
"c'mon, you can't leave me in the edge me like this... just...."
he gently grabs your wrist that held the knife, carefully guiding it to his abdomen. being touched so softly by his scarred, calloused hands made your breathing ragged. he lovingly rubs stars into your forearms as he lightly plunges the tip of the knife into his skin.
you could stab him. you could stab his knife deep into his chest and run away. but what would that mean for you in the future? if you got caught, your career would crumble, sentenced to jail, humiliated and resented by the public. and if you did get away with it, guilt would eat away at your blood-soaked hands forever.
Deimos notices your visible discomfort and tenderly caresses your hair down to your cheeks, wiping away tears you didn't know you had shed. "shh shh... i'm sorry, so so sorry, songbird. you're so kind for not wanting to hurt me... i'll never ask again after this, alright? claim me."
he was so charming. even in this situation.
he presses the knife further into his lower abdomen, drawing blood. you gasp, stuttering out your words "...just my initial, okay?" you look up, he seems disappointed but gives you a genuine smile and nods. you put more pressure onto the hilt of the knife this time, his skin bleeds, not enough to be fatal but enough to scar.
you place your other hand on his toned waist, and you can feel him shivering as the ends of his hair trickle the crown of your head. you finish carving out your initial, dropping the knife on the ground and backing up to look at your work.
it was messy, the blood dripped down to his pants and you swore you felt your heart get... t i n g l e s? he proudly admires your work, pulling down his shirt back in place, still untucked.
Deimos kneels down at the edge of the bed, taking your hands and cupping them on his cheeks. turning his head to tenderly kiss your palm and inhale in the scent.
he looks up at you adoringly with the widest smile on his face, "thank you, songbird. it's very pretty." pulling himself closer to your face, you exchange an unexpectedly passionate kiss, in which your reciprocate. hungry for any form of comfort.
rival-turned-biggest-fan, Deimos smirks into the kiss.
the gravitational pull.
#male yandere#original yandere character#yandere#oc art#oc#yandere boy#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere male#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#x reader#reader insert#gender neutral mc#gender neutral reader#tw yandere#yandere x you#yancore#drabble#yandere drabble#yandere stories#yandere character#yandere rockstar#idol reader#gn reader#yandere oc#yandere insert#yandere writing#yandere blurb#rockstarxreader
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Pankration - Wriothesley
Pairing: Wriothesley x gn! Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 900
Summary: Wriothesley is not impressed after you get hurt fighting in the Pankration Ring
CW: injury, reader gets stabbed, fighting, pre established relationship, soft! Wriothesley, mostly just fluffy hurt/comfort, probably some spoilers for 4.1
hello it is 230am and I just did the 4.1 quests for like ~4hrs and now I have major brain rot for this man. something about him just makes my little frog brain go feral. i haven’t finished the quest yet so apologies if something isn’t correct or if I misspelled something
also not taking reqs rn but if yall have some ideas for this man i think i could take them
————
The familiar sound of heavy boot steps echoes down the halls, reverberating into the infirmary. Sigewinne gives you a wide eyed look but the panic fails to register, drowned out by the pain.
You writhe on the bed, forcing yourself into a sitting position. Sigewinne stands at your side, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.
As soon as Wriothesley enters the room, you can see he’s disgruntled. Your boyfriend says nothing as he locks eyes with you, trodding towards the end of the bed.
“What happened?”
Sigewinne tries to pipe up first. “Y/n got injured fighting in the Pankration Ring.”
Wriothesley’s features soften for a moment as he looks at the Melusine. “Sigewinne, could you leave us for a moment?”
She bows her head and scurries out of the room, as if sensing the anger radiating off of him. You clench your jaw and try to keep your eyes on random objects in the room, avoiding his gaze.
“Y/n.”
You don’t look at him, staring at an empty crate in the corner of the room.
“Y/n,” his tone is harsh.
You take a deep breath and allow yourself to make eye contact. Dark blue eyes look at you, partially in concern and partially in frustration. You shrink beneath his gaze.
“What were you thinking?” He sighs in exasperation, “the ring is for fighters. It’s for people who need a little extra stimulation in their lives—it’s not for people like you.”
You nod along with his words, shoulders slumping. Your stomach still aches from where you were grazed earlier in the day, all of your muscles serving as a sore reminder to your bitter loss.
You had just wanted to try it, just one time. You were put against another amateur fighter and you thought the fight would be easy enough. You were on the verge of winning, too. Another minute or so and the fight would have been yours.
And then your opponent slashed at you with a piece of scrap metal they’d welded to a ring and your chances of winning dropped to 0.
“I would have won,” you mumble bitterly. “I would have won if he hadn’t cheated.”
Wri’s eyes widen. “Cheated how?”
From the way his eyes darken, you almost regret mentioning it. “No weapons, no serious injuries, no killing. Those are the rules.”
“Yes.” He agrees.
You lift up the hem of your shirt and reveal the gauze around your waist. “He—he brought some sort of shank into the ring, and just as I was about to win…”
You don’t need to finish speaking for him to get the picture. Wriothesley sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes to gain his composure. He looks almost scary right now, his blue eyes almost black.
His tone is gentler now. “Do you remember who it was?”
You shake your head, “no, but I’m sure the promoter does.”
He considers this for a moment before excusing himself out of the room. You let yourself slump down into the bed, the pain growing worse as the medication Sigewinne gave you wears off. A few tears threaten to spill and your poor attempts to hold them back do nothing.
Wriothesley returns a few minutes later, a somber look on his face. “He’ll be dealt with,” he assures you, and leaves it at that.
You nod, worried that if you try to speak, the tears will come pouring out. You bite your lip to keep them back.
Wri settles on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“I-I—” You don’t manage to say anything before the tears burst out.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap, holding you against his chest. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, petting your head, “I’m so sorry.”
He keeps a secure grip on you, being extra careful not to apply too much pressure to where you were grazed. He rocks you in his arms in an attempt to soothe you, calming you down from your sudden outburst.
He keeps you in his lap even when Sigewinne comes back into the room. The nurse holds out a small white container for you to take.
“These will help with the pain, but you need to see me every day so I can change your bandages.”
You swallow and go to speak, but Wriothesley does it for you. “Thank you, Sigewinne. I’ll be taking y/n back with me now.”
The Melusine grants you a kind smile. “Feel better now.”
You swing your feet over the side of the bed and brace yourself to stand, but Wri has other plans for you. He scoops you up bridal style into his arms as if you weigh nothing.
“You—you don’t need to carry me.”
He scoffs, “and let you walk right now?”
You sigh. He has a point.
It’s not a long walk back to his office, but between the exhaustion of the day and the soothing feeling of his arms around you, you can’t help but drift off.
Wriothesley looks down at your sleeping form and smiles. He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist falling asleep if he carried you—he’s just glad that you didn’t notice it took twice as long to get back to his office as it normally does.
He lays you down in his bed and kisses your forehead. “Rest up, baby.”
#wriothesley#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x y/n#wriothesley genshin#Genshin impact#genshin impact wriothesley#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#fluff#genshin fluff
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Gotham was a place for Ghosts.
A place the dead piled up and lingered well beyond their deaths. A place where the rules were different from everywhere else in the world. Where crime was rampant and chaos reigned but at the end of the day people said their thanks that they were born to this hellhole and not so cursed to call anywhere else in the world home.
The dead came to fight
And Gotham, a thing so alive it was sickening to look upon, rose up to fight right alongside them all.
Chapter 2 is here 😄
#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#jason todd#jazz fenton#the outlaws#halfa jason#reluctant war au#spirit of gotham#eldritch spirit of gotham#ghost zone goes to war#pre anger management#jazz/the outlaws (eventually)#GIW: The People of Gotham have joined the fight!#Gothamites: *frothing at the mouth expressing decades worth of hatred for the government for all the times they were left to die*#GIW: The People of Gotham have joined the fight *against us*#GIW: They brought the girl scouts were fucked
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once bitten, twice shy
megumi fushiguro x reader
ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)
ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics
ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....
megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.
he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.
and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.
and then there was you.
he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.
shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)
your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.
he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)
he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.
why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?
it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.
he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.
it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.
unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.
you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.
“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“
“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.
“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”
you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.
“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”
“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.
“you put it on top of my stuff!”
you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.
apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.
“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.
“but you see her all the time.”
“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”
yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.
“are you guys together?” he blurts out.
“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”
“maki?”
“dude, keep up!”
and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.
it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.
he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.
and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.
despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.
if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.
he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.
there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.
there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.
his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.
“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”
“there is no way in hell that i’m—”
“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”
megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.
“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.
“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”
“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”
there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.
(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)
“didn’t know you smoked.”
“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”
“wouldn’t dream of it.”
he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.
megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.
he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.
and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.
“so… not enjoying the party?”
“i’m not really one for parties.”
“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”
“we have that in common.”
you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.
“what a pair, the two of us.”
megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.
you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.
“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.
“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”
“oh.”
“why?” you give him a curious smile.
“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”
you laugh and it’s like a song to him.
“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”
he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.
“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.
“sorry?”
“’m not repeating that.”
“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.
megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.
you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.
“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.
“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”
“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”
“megumi,” he emphasizes.
“megumi.”
“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”
“you’re drunk.”
“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”
“even you?”
when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.
“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”
“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.
megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.
“what do you want, megumi-kun?”
he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.
he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.
you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.
he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.
megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.
maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.
“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.
a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.
“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.
“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”
“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.
while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.
“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.
“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.
“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.
“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”
“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”
“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.
despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.
#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#megumi x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fluff#megumi angst#megumi fic#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut
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Buzz Buzz - Sanji x Reader NSFW
Girl........I am down bad.
Word Count: 7,200 words!?!? Girl what the fuck.... This is self-indulgent af.
Sanji finds something of yours that you really would've preferred to keep private. But maybe it wasn't all bad?
Warnings; NSFW MDNI. cis!fem reader, sorry 'bout that, Both Sanji and reader are incredibly awkward, self-conscious, and like one-upping each other, plus size!reader, vibrators, no p in v soz lol. 100% this was written with pre-timeskip anime Sanji in mind, love that cringefail malewife energy. Surprisingly switches all round...also yes I know those with dicks have a refractory period...I just don't care lol
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You had barely made it inside the women’s room when you caught the ship’s cook. He was crouched, holding something small and looking befuddled. What was that? Wait! No, how did he find that!?
"Sanji! Put that down!" You screamed, face on fire.
Sanji shot to his feet, looking terrified at the prospect of being caught, and yet, he still periodically eyed the implement in his hand, making no move to abandon it.
"What is it?" The question sounded innocent, but you knew the flirt was just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately you're only human, and Sanji always seemed to bring out the worst of it.
"You know EXACTLY what that is!" You hissed, trying to lunge for it. Sanji side stepped you with ease. With fire in your eyes, you quickly captured his wrist, backing him against the wall. Sanji blinked at you blankly. His questioning look stopping you in your tracks. "You...you don't know what that is, do you?"
You wanted to faint when Sanji shook his head. What the hell did he mean? You were sure if any of the men on board knew what that was, it would be the perverted cook. With a blush you stared him down.
"It's a massager."
"Oh my dear, you should come to me, I'd gladly rub your stress away."
You honest to gods squealed at that. Recovering, you caged the man in between you and the wall, fist resting next to his head. Your eyes burning as you sized him up. "Are you fucking with me Black Leg?"
"No, I would gladly give you a massage! My hands may be for cooking, but for you my dear, I'll make an exception. Maybe I could use it some time?"
If your face got any redder you would faint. Spitting out a growl, you regarded the man with a sneer. How dare that asshole make fun of you? "You fucking pervert."
Sanji jumped, clearly offended. "How?! I was only offering a shoulder massage. I don't have any ulterior motives, chef's honour."
"It's a personal massager, Sanji." You gritted out. The blonde stared down at you, confusion evident. Gods he was so stupid sometimes! A growl ripped from your throat. "It's a vibrator. A sex toy. I use it to cum."
The velvety soft bullet clattered to the ground. Darting your eyes up, you took in the frozen man. Sanji was growing redder at a rapid pace. He squeaked out something unintelligible. You watched the blush spread down his neck, blooming beautifully. Huh, he really didn't know what it was.
"Oh." He managed. "You...uh...a toy?"
"I have needs Sanji." You deadpanned, pulling away. You didn't miss how he sighed in relief at your retreating form. Man, fuck him! It's not like you left it out in the open for anyone to find it!
"And you...you use it?"
"Well duh...it's not for decoration." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uncomfortable at the way he looked at you incredulously. "Look now that we've got that explained, can you piss off and let me wallow in my embarrassment?"
Sanji didn't budge, still looking at you with that odd look on his face, like he didn't quite understand. It caused anger to burn brighter in your chest. You snatched the vibrator off the floor, causing Sanji's eyes to widen. With a huff you stomped to your bed, flopping face down onto it.
"Miss (Name)?" Sanji asked quietly. You ignored him, trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow. This was humiliating. Why the hell did you have to like Sanji of all people? "Look, (Name), I was just surprised is all-"
You snapped at him from your hiding spot. "We don't all chase the first pretty thing we see to get relief Sanji! Some of us have to take care of our own business."
"Wh-what?"
All you were doing was digging yourself a deeper hole, but you didn't care. "I saw how disgusted you looked. I didn't ask you to find it. You can go tell the crew how pathetic I am! Oh, (name) can't get anyone to look at her like that, how sad. Poor thing, having to rely on something like a toy. Hahaha! Never mind there's never any stupid privacy on this stupid ship. A-and I can have the urge too! So don't look at me like that! I haven't had sex since I got on this godforsaken ship, so excuse me for getting something to help."
You were purely catastrophising, clear that anxiety had gotten the best of you. Sanji would never be that cruel. You weren't sure when, but judging on how damp your pillow was, you had been crying for some time. Well that's embarrassing. Sanji was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.
The bed creaked from extra weight, causing you to wince. You tried desperately to make yourself smaller, to shy away from the man. Instead you felt his large hand pat the small of your back. You jumped in surprise, causing the hand to falter. It began rubbing small soothing circles, You sighed.
"Why aren't you leaving? I asked you to piss off."
There was a pause. Then you heard Sanji speak. It was faint, unsure of what to do.
"And leave a lady to cry alone? I don't think so." You scoffed. "If it makes you feel better-"
"Look I'm sorry for crying-"
"I think it's hot."
You stiffened. Sanji felt you go rigid beneath his touch. The silence grew suffocating, You whipped your head to meet his gaze, eyes wide.
"Fucking excuse me?"
Sanji looked embarrassed, ducking to avoid your questioning eyes. The hand on your back spasmed. "I didn't think it was pathetic...thought it was hot...And I don't think it's true that no one shows you interest-"
That drew a callous laugh from you. "Oh please. You and I both know I'm not drop dead gorgeous like Nami or Robin. You've seen the attention I get from men. You don't look like me and not see the way men avoid you like the plague."
The hand on your back tightened into a fist. grabbing the back of your top. You tried to twist to lie on your back but the hand held you in place. Sanji's voice was dark, an unspoken threat dangling in the air. "Excuse me?"
"C'mon Ji, it's cute you're trying to cheer me up but look at me! You think I'm the kinda girl that has men lining up out the door to fuck? I know how I look, it's why I got this back in Loguetown. Don't need to scare anyone off this way." You waggled the vibrator, laughing.
Sanji clearly did not like the way you were talking about yourself, if the way he quickly flipped you onto your back was any indication. You squealed in alarm, feeling the hard mattress dig into your back. He hovered over you, caging you under him, his legs on either side of your plush thighs. You gulped.
"Are you serious?" He snarled. You stared up at him, his eyes were burning with anger, lips drawn into a frown. You protested weakly.
"Sanji, c'mon man. I know its your whole philosophy that every woman is beautiful, and all that, but let's be real here-"
"Yeah?" He breathed out, daring you to continue. You raised an eyebrow at him.
"You don't have to act like I'm attractive Sanji. When we were in Alabasta you literally tried to cover me up with your jacket after I wore that stupid dancer costume."
The man above you blanched. "Oh (name), you thought I-"
"Was disgusted? Yeah? I don't blame you, it couldn't have been a pretty sight."
"Will you stop that!?" He growled. You froze.
"Wait, you're actually mad?"
Sanji scoffed. "Mad? I'm furious. Who the hell told you you aren't breathtaking?"
"Wh-what? I'm not! I don't need explicit words to see that people don't see me that way. Whenever we go out, it's always men fawning over Nami and Robin, and rightfully so, they're hot. If we need to distract someone? It's always Nami being sexy. You do it too. Nami shows a little skin? You're wagging your tongue like a stray dog. I show a bit of skin? You look like you're in physical pain. What about that day on the deck when we were sunbathing? Nami and Robin had hyped me up to try a bikini. I'd never worn one before. When you saw me in a swimsuit, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, like the mere sight of me hurt you. Haven't worn one since."
"I was in pain." Sanji spat. "I was fucking hard."
What?
You gasped. "What?"
Sanji's face was a dark red, his ears burning, but he held your gaze, looking furious. If looks could kill you'd be nothing but ash under him. "I was fucking hard." He repeated. "I had no idea you were going to be there half-naked. Had to get out of there quick before anyone saw."
You opened your mouth to speak, but Sanji wasn't done.
"And in Alabasta? I tried covering you because I realised it was a mistake. That I wanted to be the only one to see you like that. And I wasn't lying when I said you having a vibrator was hot! I was in shock at the thought of you using it. I don't think it's pathetic. I think me having to fucking jack off in the bathroom because you bent over in front of me, or made those noises enjoying my food, or I watched you kick some guy's ass, is pathetic. Why can't you understand that you're sexy?"
Sanji took in you under him, chubby cheeks a bright red. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry I ever made you think you weren't gorgeous."
"But..." You started, clearly flustered. "Nami and Robin?"
"Are beautiful, yes. But they aren't you."
"But...you really think I'm pretty?"
"Pretty? Darling I think you're so fucking hot you've made me cum in my pants like a boy more than once."
"Really?!" Your eyes were sparkling. That was a welcome change, Sanji mused. He would gladly embarrass himself tenfold, if it meant you'd see yourself how he saw you.
"Yeah. Once was not long after we met. You wanted a sparring partner. I thought you were gonna go easy on me, and I wasn't gonna fight back. You were vicious. It was hot." He tried to shrug in his current position. "If you remember you got me in a headlock between your thighs."
"I thought you slunk away because you were upset I hurt you? You made that whimpering noise and looked in pain."
"I do not whimper!" He protested weakly. "I 'slunk away' because I came."
"Oh."
"So I can assure you, I'm a pervert for you too, especially you."
"I think of you when I masturbate!" You blurted out.
It happened quickly. Sanji's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched. You watched as his forearms shook.
Then he lost his balance.
You'd love to say he fell head first into your tits, moaning in pure bliss. But that only happens in romance books.
No. He headbutted you by accident, flopping directly on top of you like a dead fish. The two of you hissed in pain. Your head throbbed. Motherfucker. For a scrawny bastard he sure was heavy, clearly all muscle, you mused. All muscle, including the very firm one that was poking you in the hip.
"Are you fucking hard?" You hissed. Sanji propped himself up with one hand by your side, the other rubbing his forehead.
"Of course I'm hard." He hissed back. "You just told me you masturbate to me. I'm assuming you're using that stupid toy."
"It's not stupid!" You defended. "It can pack quite a punch."
"You could have used me, darling?" He offered halfheartedly, masking his nerves with a fake smile.
You shot him a wry grin back. "Oh that was smooth. Unless you can magically vibrate-"
"I could do better."
"You could let me use it on you." Hmph. Cheeky. Sanji felt faint at the implications. His cock twitched against you. You widen your eyes at him in interest. "Oh? Would you like to try it?
"I'd rather try you, thank you."
You laughed honestly. Sanji felt the air knocked out of him when you caged him in with your legs, ankles crossing to dig in his back. He shuddered as you dragged him deeper against you, a dangerous look in your eyes. Sanji loved you, honestly. But sometimes he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as nervous as he did. Mustering all his charm he winked at you.
"So you masturbate to the thought of me?"
Oh that did it. Red bloomed deliciously from your cheeks, your ears, down to where your neckline began. Sanji felt his cock twitch eagerly, pride filling him. You diverted your gaze in embarrassment, puffing out your cheeks. Cute.
"And if I do?"
"That's cute." He grinned, You scowled up at him. He felt your thighs tighten around him. "Oh, I affect you that much, hm?"
Sanji couldn't help the involuntary squawk that escaped when you flipped the two of you with your hips, taking advantage of your lower centre of gravity. Your weight sat deliciously on top of him, allowing him to effectively crush his cock against your clothed mound. He groaned as you adjusted your position, making yourself comfortable.
"What was that, cook?" You panted out, trying to minimise how riled up you were. With pure purpose, you leant forward, caging his head between your arms. "Because from where I am you look pretty affected."
The man below you gulped as you leant forward, moving to rest on your elbows, bringing your face closer. The blush on your cheeks showed no sign of calming down, the only telltale sign Sanji could find that you were embarrassed. Your voice dropped. "If you must know, it's a common occurrence. You drive me wild you silly man. Can I kiss you?"
Sanji laughed, dragging your face down to meet him. He kissed you passionately, hands cradling your face firmly. You smiled into the kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip. With a groan, Sanji reciprocated and then some. The impromptu makeout session halted when you propped yourself up to breathe. You stared down at him with stars in your eyes.
"Wow." You breathed.
"Yeah." Sanji panted.
Silence. The two of you basking in each other.
"Would you let me play with you, Sanji?"
You were rewarded with a moan as he nodded, eyes scrunched shut. Eagerly you sat back on his hips. Exploratively, you ran your hands down his chest, rubbing your way back up. Sanji shivered as you began unbuttoning his shirt, fingers clumsy with want. When you got the last button done you couldn't help yourself, feeling all over his chest, as if you were mapping it to memory. Sanji hissed as your nails lightly scratched over his nipples, hips lightly bucking up into you. You hummed appreciatively.
"Can you stop teasing me, love?" Sanji bit out. You laughed.
With no pomp or circumstance, you divest yourself of your shirt, tossing it somewhere behind you. Sanji whined, reaching up for you. You avoided his hand, crushing your bra-clad chest back to his. You were rewarded with a stuttered sigh.
Sanji felt himself freeze when you licked a stripe up his neck. You were savouring him, stopping to nibble his ear lobe. You had one arm stretched far past his head, the other braced on his shoulder. Sanji bucked his hips at a particularly harsh bite. He could feel you grin against his skin. If Sanji was honest, he felt faint as you kissed back down his neck, stopping when you found his pulse point. Sanji bit back a moan as you sucked harshly, bringing your outstretched hand back to cup his pec. Small whines being the only thing to reward you.
"S-stop teasing, love." He was more flustered now. Perfect.
Bzzzz
Sanji froze, eyes wide. He breathed out a small "What the fuck?" watching with bated breath as you pulled yourself back up, a wicked grin on your features. A jolt of electricity shot through him as he felt a vibration against his neck.
You eyed him hungrily, slowly dragging the vibrator down his neck. The man beneath you was panting, eyes scrunched tight as you dragged the vibrator down to his chest. You circled a nipple with the vibrating tip, causing Sanji to jump. You bit back a moan.
"Look at me Sanji." You purred. A wave of arousal washed over you as he peered up at you with wide eyes. You languidly toyed with the vibrator, tickling your way down his stomach, the man beneath you squirming. "This okay?"
"Yeah." A whisper. You grinned.
"Good boy. Balance this for me, okay?"
The vibrator on his abdomen buzzed idly as you shuffled back. With a wicked glint in your eyes you trailed your hand downwards. Sanji accidentally bucked his hips when your fingers found his belt, making quick work of undoing the buckle. You paused, the man beneath you trying desperately to still. When you deemed him still enough you moved to opening his trousers, fighting your way through a button. You'd never really noticed that Sanji wore his pants higher up on his hips. It made sense, you realised, from a fighting point of view. Huh, you'd have to tag that away for future reference.
"I didn't expect you to have such a sexy happy trail. Gods, so coarse." You moaned, feeling your way down through his hair, You let your fingers lightly touch under his pants. Sanji squirmed. You cooed.
"What a good boy, I'll be taking this back, thank you." You purposefully tickled him as you took back the vibrator, staring at him through lidded eyes. Sanji felt himself freeze, knowing full well what you were planning to do.
Sanji felt an undignified groan escape him as he felt you press the vibrator to his clothed groin with featherlight pressure. You were killing him!
"Please do something (Name), you are driving me insane."
"Oh? More like this?" You feigned innocence, cupping both the vibrator and his bulge with one hand, and cranking the vibrator up with the other. You watched with perverse satisfaction as the man clenched his fists into your bedsheets. Good. With one hand you slipped the zipper down painfully slow. You made a show of sticking your hand through the opening and began palpating his clothed cock, making sure to squeeze every now and then.
The man below you began panting, trying to talk but instead babbling something incoherent. You laughed.
With the now intensified vibrator, you slipped it between his parted thighs, placing it directly at the apex. Sanji squealed at that, scrambling to move away.
"Too much?" You cooed, though a genuine questioning tone laid underneath. Looking up to survey his expression, you found him biting onto his hand to muffle his noises. He shook his head.
"Just unfamiliar." He willed his eyes open and tried to fix you with a glare. It failed miserably, and the man instead looked like he was going to cry.
Would it be so bad to make him cry?
You hummed as a way to acknowledge you saw him. Sanji managed to choke out a strangled, "You're not putting that in my ass."
The laugh that ripped from you was raucous and joyful. You playfully swatted his knee.
"I wasn't going to go anywhere near your ass!" You managed out through giggles. Sanji blushed. "Geez, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
"Just hurry up and touch me." Sanji muttered. You giggled, withdrawing your hand. The man below you whined at the loss.
"Relax! Right now, I really just wanna blow you. That okay?"
"Y-yeah! Fuck, I mean, if you want to?"
"Really wanna. Can I put this against your balls? It'll feel good, promise?"
Sanji shuddered beneath you, the vulgarity of your words hitting him. You were looking at him with hopeful eyes, a far cry from what you were saying. He supposed he could always say no if he hated it. He nodded slowly.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay."
You squealed happily, hands flying up to try pulling down his pants. When they refused to budge you swatted at his thigh. Sanji let out a little yip, lifting his hips. You grinned wolfishly, tugging at the garment till it reached his mid thigh. You lightly trailed your hands up his thighs, tickling his inner thighs with your light touch. Sanji squirmed.
When your eyes met his pelvis you whistled lowly. "Now isn't that something? Definitely more than a mouthful. Didn't take you for a briefs kinda guy, to be honest."
Sanji clearly didn't like the tone he perceived from that. He snapped at you, face red. "They are boxer briefs, thank you! They offer the best support. Why am I even explaining this to you anyway? I shouldn't have to justify my underWEAR-"
Sanji's voice pitched high as you cupped him. You rubbed small circles, grinding your palm against him. "Relax! It makes sense, you don't want a ball popping out when you're doing those high kicks. Thought you'd be thankful I pointed out that and not the giant wet patch."
"Would you be quiet? I can feel myself going soft." Sanji whined. You laughed.
"That's not what I'm feeling sweetheart." As if on cue you felt his cock jump at the pet name. You grinned, swallowing the extra saliva that filled your mouth. "As fun as this panty chat is, I'd really like to unwrap my present now."
Sanji stared at you through lidded eyes as your thumbs hooked under his waistband, pulling lightly. He hissed at the feeling. With no real ceremony, you began peeling the fabric away from him. Eyes sparkling as his cock came into view. The head was red and angry, a clear representation at how frustrated he must feel. His cock was lithe, curved, and definitely long. You found that a fitting comparison to its owner.
"Fuck." You whispered. "I'm sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? I gotta suck you off."
Sanji barely got to respond before you were on him, hands squeezing him. Whatever he was going to say got cut off by a guttural moan. You pumped him a few times, coating his cock in his pre-cum. If Sanji was wriggly before, he was practically fucking your fist. You braced one hand on his hip.
"Bon Appetit."
You engulfed him, taking as much as you could into your mouth. A moan tore its way out of you as you tasted him. Gods it was so musky, you needed more. You sucked harshly, causing the man below you to squeal and scramble for purchase. You really weren't going easy on him.
The wet sounds that ensued were sinful, causing the both of you to feel embarrassed. You didn't care too much, needing to suck this man dry. You'd spent way too long thinking about this. You pumped what you couldn't fit in your mouth, laving your tongue on the underside of his cock. Sanji felt dizzy by the sensation, the heat in his groin growing. He couldn't help himself, hips bucking into your mouth. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat.
"Sorry. Sorry baby, feels too good." You hummed around his cock happily, causing Sanji to whine. "Baby, love, I'm not gonna last long, I promise I'm better than this."
You pulled off with a lewd pop, cooking a brow at him. A hoarse voice you didn't recognise as your own regarded him. "Y'perfect. Now calm down and cum in my mouth, can fuck me some other day."
Sanji whimpered as you resumed your ministrations, scrunching his eyes shut. Fuck, the pleasure was too much. He couldn't stop the way he lightly rocked his hips. He was so close. So close.
BZZZZZZZ
Ohoho. There was no way you'd forgotten what he'd agreed to. You firmly held the vibrating bullet against the back of his balls, resting on his perineum. Electricity coiled inside him, balls growing tight. Sanji honestly keened, a high whine escaping him. Oh shit that was...
Fuck. Too Much.
"(Name), I'm, oh fuck-"
Sanji tried to pry you off, embarrassed at the thought of cumming in your mouth. You growled around him, swallowing around him. Sanji moaned, hips delivering a final stutter.
He came. Hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat. Sanji's whole body shook. You gently licked at him, milking him through his orgasm. When you deemed the man thoroughly spent, you removed the bullet and pulled him out of your mouth. Sanji looked at you with frantic eyes.
"Spit that out!" He hissed, afraid to be heard. This was embarrassing. He hadn't even touched you yet, and here he was, trying to get you to get rid of his cum. Sanji felt himself grow light headed as he watched you swallow, your throat bobbing with the movement.
"You know we don't waste food Sanji. And how could I turn down such a treat?" You laughed, voice raspy.
Sanji whined. How dare you use his words against him! He felt awkward. You pulled his underwear back up, patting his hip.
"Lemme touch you!" He pleaded. You laughed. "No, really. Let me eat you out!"
You flushed beautifully. "Oh. Um. I don't think you want to do that!"
Sanji huffed. "I do! You're not gonna use that stupid toy, sit on my face, please darling."
You squeaked. "No! I'm not gonna sit on your f-face! And it's not stupid. Made you cum."
Sanji rolled his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks. "That's not hard when you're involved. Please?"
"I'm too heavy and I won't taste nice! N-no!" You scrambled to the other side of your bed while Sanji pulled his pants back up. His eyes softened.
"That's not true. I'm sure I don't taste good." He faltered when you shook your head. He tried to muster up his signature charm. "Oh, you're worried you're too addictive and I'll never leave you alone?"
That drew a laugh from you. Sanji smiled. "C'mon love? Can I...can I finger you at least? Really wanna touch you."
Your face was glowing red, eyes shifting away from him. "Oh. Um. I suppose that's okay."
Sanji leapt off the bed. "Good! Yes! Get comfy!" He watched as you settled where he'd been, clearly feeling embarrassed. You covered your stomach with your arms. Sanji frowned. "Love... You know that won't do."
"Ah. Sanji c'mon." You pleaded.
"Uh uh. You were so confident before. C'mon lay back. Just relax, I won't bite, unless you want me to?"
There was that cocky grin you found so endearing. With a sigh, you sunk back into the mattress, letting your hands fall to your side. When you nodded, Sanji took that as his cue.
Fervently he scrambled onto the bed, pinning you under him. He began peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He was acting like an overexcited puppy. You captured his lips in another searing kiss. Sanji rested a hand on your waist, causing you to gasp. Sanji greedily took advantage of this, licking his way into your mouth. You whined. You heard Sanji groan, evident he could still taste himself.
He pulled back with a pop and you startled at the look he gave you. It was so full of love and warmth, lust evident. He gave you a wink, before he ducked down to start kissing you everywhere. Your non-existent collarbones. He sucked lightly over one of them. You squeaked. He kissed his way down your breasts, free hand groping your smple chest. Sanji grinned against your skin, pleased with the noises he was getting. He trailed both hands to your back, rubbing soothing circles. You sighed as he explored your back.
When you felt his practised fingers make quick work of your bra hooks you gasped, red faced. He pushed them out of the way, lightly clawing at your back. You felt like fainting when your strap started to fall. What if he was disgusted? Sanji felt your breath picking up.
"Oh my dear! Don't be scared. I'll take good care of you I promise! May I see them? I dream of them! You wouldn't deprive me of such a sight?"
You smiled at how cheesy he was. With a light cough you nodded. You wanted to cry at how gentle he was treating you, hands rubbing both your arms. You began to relax. Sanji grinned, eyes wild, as he pulled the straps down your arms, He gestured to the cups, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed, nodding. He really knew how to ease the tension. Sanji looked awestruck as he pulled your bra away, discarding it off the bed.
"Wow."
Sanji's eyes were positively sparkling, You watched as he nodded, seemingly at nothing, face dangerously red. With shaking hands he reached up to cup your breasts. He let out a shuddering breath. You felt your weighty breasts being lifted, Sanji supporting them with a blissful smile. He bounced his hands lightly, watching as they jiggled.
"So hot. Better than I imagined."
"Yeah?" You tried not to sound too hopeful. Sanji grinned, squeezing experimentally. A cute whine ripped its way out of your throat, head lolling to the side. He was so gentle. You felt guilty for teasing him. "I'm sorry for teasing you. You're so cute you make me wanna make you blush."
Sanji stilled. "Oh. I...I don't mind. It's kinda hot. I'll get you back, don’t worry. Right now, wanna make you feel good."
You tried to push down the butterflies when Sanji kissed your tits as his hands reached your shorts. Embarrassment overcoming you, you buried your face in your hands as he popped open a button.
"Love? We can stop if it's too much?"
"No." You whined behind your hands. "Been a long time, and you're so hot. Don't want you to be disappointed.
"I'm flattered. You know I could never be disappointed (Name)."
Butterflies multiplied when he spoke your name. You nodded, wincing as he played with your zipper. With a sigh, you peeked through your hands. The breath that left you was airy and shaky.
"Okay."
Sanji shot you a dazzling grin. "Then hips up my love!"
You obeyed him, and watched as he dragged your shorts down, not stopping till they hung off one foot. With a shake of your foot the offending article hit the bed. Sanji gasped, cooing at you.
"Ah, your panties have little kittens on them, so cute."
You froze, face dangerously red. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eyes as you floundered beneath him, stuttering.
"I didn't know we were gonna...y'know? Wasn't like I wanted anyone to see 'em. It was uh....laundry day?" Your protests fell on deaf ears.
Sanji chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously. "It's cute. So cute. Can think of another pussy I'd like to see."
You swatted at him in embarrassment, he dodged you playfully.
"I understand why you enjoy teasing me so much. Your face is so cute, love. May I?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice. Sanji grinned. Stupid cook. The object of your affection studied you, clear he was savouring this. You squirmed. Sanji rested his hands on your plush hips.
"You're going to have to spread your legs sweetheart." Sanji bit his lip when you squeaked in response. "C'mon. Let me make you feel good."
Sanji watched, utterly enraptured as you shuffled, spreading your thighs apart. Your thighs looked so inviting, all he wanted to do was bury his face in there and lap at you like a man starving. But he'd respect your wishes, there was always next time. Eyes flicking upwards, he took into account how you weren't looking at him, eyes scrunched shut.
You startled when Sanji crawled between your legs, hands cradling your thighs. The touch tickled and burned, sending electricity buzzing through you straight to your core. Sanji slid a hand up your inner thigh, resting at mid thigh.
"Fuck." You heard him swear, voice full of awe. "You're so wet."
A squeal escaped you and you tried slamming your thighs shut, but Sanji had caught them, staring. You cracked an eye open and gasped, thighs shaking.
Sanji was practically drooling, biting his bottom lip. "You're SO wet..." He trailed off. You felt a hand gently hook your thigh onto his shoulder. He kissed the skin softly, relishing as you quivered under him. "Fuck. You gotta let me eat you next time."
Next Time. The thought made you lightheaded. You whined. Sanji soothed you, rubbing circles on your thigh. When you pried your eyes open you found the man staring directly in your eyes. You startled. Sanji maintained intense eye contact as you felt his knuckle run up your clothed slit. You muffled a shriek, blush returning tenfold. Sanji smiled, eyes turning back to your pussy. You shook as his fingers danced over you, pushing the fabric against you. When he caressed the area you moaned.
"As cute as these are, can I please take them off?" Sanji pleaded playfully.
"Please." You nodded.
You squirmed as he began pulling your panties down, hands tickling the skin uncovered.
"Okay baby, knees together." Sanji coached, picking your other leg up to join the one on his shoulder. You mewled at his gentleness, feeling him drag your underwear down. You tried angling your hips away from him, instead giving him a good view of your rear. "What a cute ass." He mused, continuing to trail the fabric to your feet. With nothing but gentleness, he slipped the underwear off you, balling the fabric up.
You were too busy trying to disappear and hide your nakedness from the man, so you didn't notice how he rubbed it between his fingers before stuffing them in his pockets. He'd make sure you didn't even realise they were missing. He salivated at the thought.
In the meantime you had clamped both hands over your sex. Sanji tutted at you. That wouldn't do. With a sigh he gripped your right leg, beginning to pry them apart. You shrieked, pointing your knees inwards.
"(Name)." Sanji warned. When you didn't respond he swatted lightly at your ass. He grinned when you rewarded him with a squeal, bucking your hips away from his hand and towards him. He'd file that away. Sanji sighed. "Darling please. I'll die if you don't show me that pretty pussy. I'm trying to be gentle, but knowing what's behind those hands, I want to wrench your thighs open."
Sanji watched you surreptitiously rub your thighs together. He cocked an eyebrow. So you were enjoying this. An over-dramatic sigh escaped him. He'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sure you could fight, but Sanji was stronger than you, and when he wrapped a hand under your thigh, thumb wrapping into the inside near your apex, you knew you were fucked.
"Darling. You can be a good girl and show me, or I can do it for you." When you continued squirming and stuttering Sanji tsked. "Then I'm sorry (Name). You can get me back later."
You squealed when he yanked your thighs apart, quickly slotting himself between your legs, rendering you unable to close them fully. If your face got any redder you'd faint, and it was a very likely possibility when you felt his hands circle your wrist. The switch to being more dominant was making your head spin. Sure, you adored submissive Sanji, but the idea that he was acting like this because he wanted to see you that badly ignited you.
"Sorry my love." He apologised before wrenching your hands back. You tried desperately to slap your thighs shut, squirming in his hold. All this did was rut your sex closer to him. You heard Sanji groan, causing you to go deathly still.
"F-fuck."
Fighting the tears in your eyes you avoided his eyes. Sanji breathed out a long sigh, the air hitting your sex. You whined.
"Holy fuck. Gorgeous."
You stared down at him. Sanji's eyes were glued to your pussy, pupils dilated. Anxious, you fiddled with your fingers. Sanji kept muttering praises, rubbing your thigh reassuringly.
Shame flooded you when you felt him spread you open with two fingers. A loud squelch rewarded the man, and he clearly enjoyed it.
"Oh fuck! Love, love, please?"
"Yeah." You breathed out. Sanji grinned up at you before turning his attention back to his prize. With his index and middle finger he parted your labia back open, whining at the wetness that greeted him. He gently prodded you with his thumb, causing you to jump and whine.
Sanji acted like a man possessed, thumb rubbing circles, gathering up your juices. He ground his thumb against your clit, causing you to moan and squirm against him. He pivoted his hand position so just his thumb was on you, rubbing sweet circles on the nub. Your body was abuzz with pleasure, clit throbbing.
"Here we go, my love. Tell me if you don't like it." His honeyed voice kissed your ears. All you could muster was an eager nod.
Thumb still stimulating your clitoris, you felt his pointer circle your opening. Pleasure overtook you, helping abate some of your nerves. The long digit dipped into you and you squeaked. Sanji took this as a good sign, and he slowly sunk the finger inside you, curling up at the end. When you big out a low moan Sanji knew that was the spot. He rubbed the rough spot gently, causing tears to spring to your eyes.
Sanji's movements grew clumsy, causing you to stare down at him. The sight that greeted you caused you to choke back a laugh. Sanji growled, crooking his finger and making you whine.
Sanji was deep in you with one hand, the other was struggling with your vibrator.
"How do you even turn this thing on?" He growled, grinding his thumb a little hard when you giggled.
"Twist the base. No, no the other way...There you go!"
Sanji withdrew his other hand, causing you to mourn the loss. He grinned up at you. "Here we go darling!"
You blushed as he spread you open again, hearing him sigh in awe. You bit back a moan when he pressed the vibrator against your clit. Sanji grinned at how you shook. With a cheeky smirk, he plunged a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a gentle rhythm. When you began squirming, Sanji took that as a sign to add another finger, making sure to crook them just right.
Sanji took you in. You were panting, moaning freely as he pleasured you. He watched mesmerised at how your chest heaved, your hands playing with your nipples, a hiss tearing from his throat. That was hot. He became more desperate to make you cum.
The vibrator cranked up in power, causing you to moan wantonly. Sanji crumpled himself against you, hand pumping furiously. The vibrator was firmly dancing against your clit. With his free hand Sanji slapped one of your hands away. You wanted to protest, but then he began sucking harshly at your tit. A whine echoed through the room when he bit down on the skin.
Your moans pitched up in tone and frequency as you reached your end. Sanji stared up at you, in awe of your reactions. He felt your thighs quiver, a wave of giddiness washing over him. He could do this all day if it meant you'd react like that. He resumed sucking and nibbling at your breasts, his ego inflating at the way you chanted his name. He liked this version of you, too caught up in pleasure to worry about how you looked, or how you sounded. Even if it drove him wild, he really loved when you were confident.
"There we go my love. Let go. So hot."
You had tears in your eyes, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. "Oh Sanji...you're so good to me. Good boy." Your voice hitched at a particularly hard bite. "Oh! I-I'm gonna cum b-baby."
Sanji whined against your sweaty skin. "Cum for me (name), please love."
Stars burst behind your eyes as you reached your white hot peak. You clenched around his fingers, walls spasming. Sanji marvelled at how you threw your head back, brows knitted together. Your fingers clawed for purchase, one settling in his locks, the other scratching at his neck. Sanji groaned. You uttered a stuttered call of his name. Sanji felt his mouth go dry as you came, wet squelches reaching his ears, and watching as your back arched beautifully.
You fell back into the bed, completely spent. Sanji fumbled with the vibrator, throwing it aside when he couldn't turn it off, simultaneously removing his fingers gently, eyes blown wide at the cum decorating his digits. He couldn't stop himself, trying to sneakily guide his fingers to his mouth. You watched, mesmerised as he began licking the digits clean, humming in delight. A gasp tore its way from your throat. Sanji froze, fingers in his mouth.
"M'sorry." He mumbled around his fingers. "Really wanted to taste you."
"And?" You breathed out, eyes wide and inquisitive.
Sanji sucked them clean, then pulled the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. You cringed at the lewd sound. "Oh love, it's exquisite."
He climbed his way on top of you, collapsing against your chest with a huff, earning a giggle from you. You placed a kiss into his hair. Sanji snuggled deeper, trying to crush you in a hug. Happily, you felt him shiver as you drew circles on his bare back. The small grunt he made causing a languid grin to spread across your face.
"Was that okay?" The tentative voice you spoke with sounded foreign to you. Sanji laughed, kissing your skin.
"More than okay. Would you let me make love to you when I'm hard again?"
Sanji preened at the delighted sound that rewarded him. "I would love that." You paused. "Hey Sanji?"
The tired man hummed, feeling you fiddle with his hair with one hand, the other splayed on his back. You were silent. He tilted his head up, peering up at you through heavy lashes. Your eyes were big and nervous.
"I kinda...like you, you know? Like...love you."
You felt the breath knocked from your lungs at the dazzling grin that spread across his face. He pushed himself up, pulling his body upwards so he could meet your eyes.
"Yeah?" He breathed. You nodded. Sanji captured you in another kiss. "Love you too my sweet." You grinned, causing the man above you to kiss you repeatedly. You pulled back cheekily.
"Even liked the vibrator?" Sanji scowled but nodded faintly. You giggled, dropping your voice low. "You know you can get one that goes around your cock? Stops you from cumming without permission."
A soft whine ripped from Sanji's throat as he stilled, burying his face in your neck. You raised a brow.
"Are you fucking hard again?"
"Sorry darling."
#sanji x reader#one piece x reader#black leg sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#one piece smut#lmao.......i am currently sick af so this is what we're doing i guess...#smut#[paris hilton voice] can i have 5 more of these little blonde bitches#you cant tell me this man wouldnt go WILD over a cockring#i didnt realise how many words there were ;-; bro wtf
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Toxic ex-boyfriend Simon 🫠🫠
It’s the same routine ever since you broke up with Simon. Call after call, decline after decline, you’ve changed your number twice now and he’s still managed to find you.
He doesn’t take no for an answer, though I suppose you knew this already—The break-up was a pretty big indicator of that, or in his words, your “break.”
“You’re just a bit overwhelmed,” he said to you, not budging a little even with your full weight on him, trying and failing to push him out of your apartment. It’s as if you weren’t even there. “Never had a man treat you like you need to be treated, scared of new sensations?”
That certainly wasn’t the problem, but it was in one ear and out the other with Simon. Honestly, you’re not even sure if it even managed to go in one ear.
“Please, don’t make this difficult,” you begged, giving up on your attempt to push him out. “Just…leave. I don’t want to call the cops.”
At the mention of police he laughs, almost mockingly. It almost scares you.
“Alright then, I’ll entertain your little tantrum for now,” he says, stepping out into the hallway. “But when you’ve finally come to your senses, know that I’ll be waiting for you.”
A pause, and then: “Of course I’ll have to teach you a lesson about being a brat when you do, but you always love my lessons don’t you pet?”
Weeks later his words still ring in your ears.
Weeks later your phone still rings in your hands.
You don’t need to check the caller ID—it’s always an unknown number, but you always know who it is. You let it go to voicemail like usual, but today is a first—a small notification being visible from the corner of your eye.
One voicemail left by: Unknown Caller
Your curiosity peaks, with stubbornness quelling it soon after. It’s a voicemail from your ex, what could he possibly say to you that you haven’t heard a million times before.
Still, it eats away at you. It wasn’t like him to leave a message when he could just call. Hell, knowing him he’s more likely to show up at your door.
It lingers in your mind. You think about it for the rest of the day and it’s now you truly understand the plight of the cat when curiosity seems so enticing.
You relent when you lie awake restless, a losing battle as you find your inbox and hit play.
Your ears are greeted with ambient silence, unsure if maybe Simon left his voicemail open on accident. The moment the thought crosses your mind you hear it, the distinct rumble you know as wholly and purely Simon. There’s a shuffle, then his voice cuts through the empty air.
“Hey there pet. Missed ya.”
You find your eyes rolling as he continues.
“I know, I know, you want to keep me away,” he says breathlessly. “But I’m not sure how long I can keep playing this game.”
There’s a rustling, a deep inhale followed by the sound of something squirting.
“Had to take a minute, forgot I had these,” he says, then takes a moment to laugh. “I’m talking like you can see me, so lemme paint you a nice, clear picture.”
A rather familiar sound of skin against skin has your face growing hotter. You’re in disbelief, willing to deny what you think you’re hearing until Simon confirms it for you.
“Hear that, pet?” He growls. “That’s all me. Could be yours too, if you’d stop being such a fuckin’ brat.”
The sound of his hand is slow, methodical in his purpose. “Nice and wrapped up in those panties I love so much. Pink and satin, the ones you got for valentines—you know the ones.”
A sigh, as if he’s reminiscing. “God, you were a real animal that day. Purred so nicely when I stuffed that cunt of yours.”
Whatever anger you have towards him for stealing your underwear is soon replaced with lust, the sound of the fabric in sync with his hand enough to have you squirming in your bed. His voice like gravel echoes through the speaker, even worse is the slick sounds of what you’re certain is your panties stroking his cock, stained with pre-cum.
More noises, his breathing getting faster and faster. “So fuckin’ soft. Feels good wrapped around me, reminds me of when you’d get so needy you’d need to grind yourself on my thigh.”
Long stretches of time where all you can hear are his breathless moans and his hand moving faster. On instinct your thighs close around nothing as you listen to your ex-boyfriend jerk off in your ears.
“Should see me right now, nice and hard just for you,” he gasps.
Your pussy throbs as if on instinct.
One of your favorite traits about Simon was his undeniably large cock, how it would blush the prettiest shade of rouge at the sight of you, how you struggled to take it every time and how you could feel it in your chest when he fucked you. It’s all you can think about now, any reason you had for breaking up seemingly lost to you.
Another laugh drags you from your thoughts. “You were thinking about me just then, weren’t you?”
Embarrassment burns through your body. You have half a mind to turn off your phone, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You can practically hear the smugness in his tone.
“Don’t worry, I’m thinking of you too.”
You hate the fact that he’s right. You hate the fact that he knows you so well. You hate the fact that you’re still listening.
You especially hate the fact you want him to do something about the increasing wetness in your panties.
“Just the thought of you, your body—that tight cunt of yours…” He cuts himself off with a moan, the distinct sound of slickness echoing in the speakers.
“God, just thinking about how hungry you must be for my cock…the things I’ll do when I get my hands on you.”
The laugh that emits from him is unhinged, animalistic. It excites you, as guilty as you feel for admitting it.
The sound of his hand speeds up as he talks. “You been taking good care of her in my stead? Touching yourself, getting her nice and prepared for when I come back? I’d hate to re-train her back into my shape.”
He’s so damn vulgar and you love it.
“Just remember, when you’re awake at night, and your thighs are pressing together so pretty, begging for something between them..”
His voice is clear as day, dark and unchained. It sends a full-bodied jolt through your own body, just barely resisting the urge to call.
“…That my cock will always be better than your hand.”
#call of duty#call of duty smut#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut#robo writes#one thing about me I may not be a Simon girl#but I love writing sick men
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— rough
Kunigami taking his aggression out on you after wildcard— honestly I want him to knock me around a bit😩
Warnings: 18+, choking, asphyxiation, rough sex, creampie, Kunigami ignores readers request not to cum inside her, semi-public sex, slut used once.
Pairings: Kunigami Rensuke x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.5k.
There’s something different about Kunigami when he makes it out of the wildcard program. A darkness that lingers inside him and threatens to consume him whole, stealing the light piece by piece until he’s a shell of the man you knew before.
He’s colder, rougher, more intent.
Ravenous.
As he stalks towards you after a game, focused eyes honing in on you like a hungry lion stalking its prey— ready to devour you whole. A man ready to take out all the anger and aggression that’s been building up inside him, dangling over him like a noose.
And sometimes you can’t even tell whether your kind, caring boyfriend still exists inside him. It’s as though he’s a completely different man.
It’s divergent from the soft, sensual sex you’re used to with Kunigami. Full of reassuring words and touches as he rolls his hips against yours gently, as though he’s afraid you might break. Like a delicate butterfly that he cups in his palms, cherishing you with every fibre of his being.
But this man? He’s brutal.
Hungrily using you for his own lust, calloused hands brusing as he pins you to the wall. Your panties just about survive his rough movements as he tugs them down your thighs roughly, letting the fabric settle around one of your ankles before he’s hoisting your thigh up against his hip.
He’s indecorous as he’s swiping his palm over your naked slit, fingers delving between your folds to see how wet you are for him— and it’s not nearly enough as he’s kind enough to spit in his palm to rub the moisture between your thighs. Nudging your clit with his rough movements, just enough to have your hips bucking with want.
It’s like he’s a different man completely as he’s tugging at his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his aching cock as the weight of it hangs low and heavy. Wrapping himself in a fist as he strokes the tip through your messy slit, his pre mingles with cooling spit as he knocks your clit. Cold, half-lidded eyes stare down at you as he blindly searches for your entrance.
The hunger and desire that burns molten fire inside him makes it difficult for him to find it, the swollen tip catches against it as he thrusts forward and misses. Sliding his length through your sex as he snarls in irritation, tightening his grip as he pulls at your thigh. Lifting it higher as he almost suspends you from the ground, keeping your weight trapped between him and the cold brick wall as he tilts back to try and see your cunt. To guide himself inside you as he finally catches against your tight, unprepared hole. Canting his hips with one sharp thrust as he buries his cock inside you.
“Oh, fu—” The penetration steals the wind from your lungs as your lips part to gulp air in.
You’re not gifted a moment to adjust to the sensation before Kunigami is using your body greedily— selfishly. His eyes are focused and intent as he curls himself into you, towering over you as he traps you against him. Soft grunts spill from deep in his throat, the sound has your clit twitching as the slight pain begins to morph into sheer pleasure.
“Ren—” You manage to choke out between airy moans as you let him use you how he so pleases.
“Oh, shit,” He exhales through his nose, “Always so tight for me.”
Each thrust is bruising as he pounds his hips forward, heavy balls slap against your ass as you scramble for purchase. Your nails dig into his broad, muscular shoulders leaving angry red lines in their wake, which only seem to goad him on. The sharp pain that ebbs through his veins has his cock twitching inside you, pulsing as he nears his release.
Kunigami gives one of your breasts a rough squeeze, fingers moulding into the supple skin bruisingly as you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your body betrays you as your cunt clenches pathetically from the abuse, begging him for more as your back arches towards his touch.
You reach up to curl your palm over the back of his hand, goading him to squeeze again as he does. Sucking in air through clenched teeth as he bites back a depraved grunt of pleasure.
“You like that, huh?” He murmurs, “Don’t even care that anyone could walk by and see you like this.”
And truth be told in the moment, you didn’t. You were certain his teams had caught glimpses of you in compromising positions before. Most of the time you’d have to coax your boyfriend into doing anything illicit, Kunigami often adamant that this sort of intimacy should be reserved for behind closed doors. But once in a while he’d let you tug down his shorts to relax him at half time, or bend you over before the game started for good luck— but this? This was downright depraved, and he could care less if anyone saw you like this right now. You were one thing that he had that no one else could have, a warped sense of power that consumed him.
“Fuck, such a slut.” He grunts as he brings his palm up higher to your neck, thick fingers wrap around your jugular as he squeezes. The pad of his thumb pushes into your jawline to direct your focus on him, staring into his auburn eyes as you feel the intensity of his gaze as he uses you selfishly. Seeking out his pleasure before your own as he works out every ounce of frustration on your poor, pliant body.
“Look at me,” He growls, “I said fucking look at me.”
Every word is annunciated by a precise, sharp rut of his hips as your eyes meet his auburn gaze. Your cunt pulses at the attention, intense diluted pupils have you writhing beneath him.
“S’too much,” You can barely make out between the hand tightening around your neck, cutting off your air supply as his thrusts become sloppier. Dropping more of his weight onto you as your walls tighten around his cock, your slick now leaks down his thick length as it creams around the base. Dribbling down onto his heavy balls as he anticipates his climax.
Expecting him to pull out at the last minute as always. Kunigami was always careful, always ready to stroke his length to finish himself off and shoot warm spurts of cum all over your tummy or ass.
“Pull out.” You whisper, his palm tightens around your neck as he nears his end.
But this time he was intent, determined.
“Rensuke.” Your voice is barely a whisper as the lack of oxygen goes straight to your head.
“Take it all,” Kunigami snarls as your cunt clenches pathetically at his tone, “Fucking take it.”
And a warmth consumes you as his balls drain inside your trembling hole, pumping globs of his thick release inside your obedient cunt. Continuing to give shallow ruts into you, burying his spend deeper inside your ruined walls.
“Fuck.” His grip loosens around your neck as he fills you to the brim.
You’re almost an afterthought as he pulls back, half-lidded eyes softening as though he’s just realised what he’s done. Feeling your desperate walls continue to pulse around him, desperately close to your own end as Kunigami takes pity on you.
“Shit, ‘m sorry, baby.” He grumbles.
Slipping a hand between your connected bodies as he presses the pad of his thumb against your puffy clit, rubbing swift precise circles against it as he leads you towards your own release. He knows your body better than you know it yourself as he has you teetering on the edge of your climax with minimal effort. The saccharine tartness to your moans has his softening cock twitching inside you as he feels you dancing on the tip of your release, goading you to tumble over the edge.
“Cum for me, princess.” He groans, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he watches you, “Always so pretty when you’re cummin’ for me.”
Feeling your chest tighten as the familiar sensation surges through you in harsh waves, your walls clamp down around his cock as you meet your own release. Kunigami’s grip on your thigh tightens to stop your legs from giving out and falling to the floor as he works you through your end. Cooing words of encouragement and praise as the intense pleasure continues coursing through you.
“Good girl.” He soothes, giving your clit a few more gentle circles until you’re trying to arch away from his touch.
Reluctantly pulling his spent cock from your messy hole as he tucks himself back inside his shorts. Bending down to help you back into your panties as he pulls them up your thighs, feeling the mixture of your release drooling into the crotch as the fabric sticks to your skin uncomfortably as he presses a lingering kiss to your lips.
“Let’s go home.” You plead, hoping that he’ll leave the building that has effectively stolen his spirit.
“Can’t,” He shakes his head, “I’ve gotta train.”
Kunigami can see the hurt flash through your eyes, but it doesn’t change his decision. You already know you’ve lost him to the Blue Lock program, and you can only hope to save his soul before it’s too late.
#kunigami x reader#kunigami smut#kunigami rensuke x reader#rensuke kunigami x reader#rensuke kunigami smut#kunigami rensuke smut#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk x reader#bllk smut
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