#he doesn’t do them like this anymore!!!!
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ఌ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘
W.C › 6.4k
Warning › bottom male reader. Reader has a cock and is mentioned to have slept with girls and boys. No set character, this is an OC, but you can imagine anyone
Plot › basically just this idea I had but expanded
Kinks › manhandling, accidental creampie, cross dressing, lite feminization, mirror sex, hint of dom/sub relation
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
To say you were a playboy was an understatement. New girl every week was you being nice. Now, as a senior, you didn’t care as much anymore.
Which led you to your current predicament.
You’d practically ran through the entire school by now and you were… bored.
The first years didn’t interest you. And you’d already gone through the pretty people in third and second year. It was looking like you’d have to start branching out to schools nearby.
A sigh left you as you plopped down at your seat, flicking at a lint of dust on your desk. It was lunch time and you weren’t feeling hungry. Well you were hungry for sex but not for food.
“Man, (L.Name), view this as a good thing! It’s lucky you haven’t gotten an STD by now.” Your friend, Ryun, said as he ate from his bento box. You only gave him a huff.
“I use condoms. They work, 99.9%!”
“Sure. I’m surprised none of the girls have gotten pregnant yet.”
Ryun let out a howl as you kicked his knee underneath the desk. “I fuck guys too! You should be wondering if I’m pregnant.”
“Wha—(L.Name), you can’t get pregnant.”
You shrugged. “You never know.”
“Are you insane?”
“Should you really be asking the resident slut that?” A voice cut in. Your eyebrows rose as you turned to see who was so bold to call you that only to see it was another one of your friends.
“Sana…! That’s so mean! I’m not a slut.” You whined as she plopped down at the desk beside you. She only gave you a knowing look before digging into her own bento.
“Ryun!” You looked straight at him. “Am I a slut?”
“Do you really want me to answer that…?”
“GAH!! Ryun~~~!” You whined, pouting heavily as you rubbed at your face in annoyance. The two ignored your childish behavior as you finally began to start eating your bento. It was a comfortable silence for a moment before a ding popped in your head.
“Oh no…” Ryun muttered, knowing that look in your eyes.
You leaned in close, grinning. “Guys.. This senior year, I should go for someone special!”
Sana sighed. “Who? Who haven’t you fucked by now?”
A teasing grin pulled on your lips as you motioned for them to come closer. As they pulled in, you looked around to make sure no one was ease dropping and giggled in excitement.
“Ito Yuki.”
A pin could be heard as Ryun and Sana stared at you for a moment. Their faces slowly contorting into something of pure disgust and disappointment.
“Him?! Student Council president, Ito Yuki?!” Sana whispered yelled.
“Mhm. I’ve never even noticed him before until now! You should’ve seen him. He still has those ugly glasses but he’s buffed up! What’s he training for?” You joked, laughing loudly in the quiet classroom.
Ryun groaned. “No way. Ito doesn’t date. Ever since he got ‘buff’ he has had girls tripping for him. But he’s turned them down! Every last one of them.”
Sana nodded in agreement. “Yeah. No way he’d get with you—especially with your reputation of dumping people after a week!”
“But that’s a good thing!” You cried. “If he’s never dated before, that means he’s a virgin!! Inexperienced!! Those are the best, especially in boys!”
“Gross, (L.Name).” The two said in unison.
You pouted. “Aah! You guys don’t understand!”
“I’d rather not,” Ryun countered.
“You’re just really perverted, (L.Name). And so weird. You won’t even let us call you by your first name.” Sana said, rolling her eyes.
“But he has no problem letting someone see his flat ass.” Ryun chuckled.
“My ass is not flat!” You gasped. “I’ll prove it—”
“—NO!!!”
You sat back down with a huff. Yeah, you were weird. Sana and Ryun, your friends since diapers didn’t use your first name. Only your mother and father did but you didn’t even like them saying it either. For some reason, it just sounds.. off hearing it from people.
There didn’t seem to be a real reason. You just didn’t like it. Though you’ve been hoping that one day someone would say your first name and you wouldn’t immediately grimace.
Oh well. You had more pressing matters.
And that was Student Council President Ito Yuki.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“How are you going to ask him out?” Ryun asked, pulling out his bento. It’s been a week since your declaration to take Ito Yuki’s virginity but you haven’t really done anything. Mainly because he’s always doing student council president shit. Always so busy.
“Like how I ask everyone out.” You said, popping a grape into your mouth.
“Serious?” Sana gasped. “That unromantic shit you do? Gosh, people here have such low standards. I hope he rejects you.”
You gave her a tight glare and threw a grape at her, grinning when it hit her right on her nose. You weren’t unromantic so to say. But… your proposals left much to desire. You had a a short and sweet line.
“Hey, you’re hot. Wanna make out?”
You thought it was romantic but Sana believed the students here just didn’t have enough self respect. Both were probably true.
“Why would anyone reject this?” You sensually pull down your blazer to show off your collarbone and give Sana a flirty lip bite. She gagged immediately.
Ryun hummed. “I can think of many reasons why someone would reject you.”
“Ack! You two suck! Where’s the motivation?! ‘Ah, (L.Name), you’re so hot!! Who would ever say no to you?!’ Like huh??”
“You don’t need anymore compliments. Your head is about damn near jelly from your narcissism.” Ryun said.
You rolled your eyes. Tough crowd. The three of you continued on with lunch when there was a sudden shrill voice. You looked at Sana and Ryun before moving to the sliding door of the classroom, sliding it open and looking out the hallway.
And there he was.
Student Council President Ito Yuki.
A soft mop of jet black hair with over grown bangs. Mono lid eyes that resembled a fox eye. A beauty mark right underneath his right eye. Plump lips. Cheekbones. He still had those stupid circular glasses. His body, though. His body was insane. He wasn’t crazy buff but he certainly put on weight compared to his stick thin body from first year. He practically had boobs (pecs) now!
He was taller too. Maybe 182 cm…?
A group of girls followed behind him, all holding letters that they waved to try and give to him. Huh, was today? Fuck, it was Valentine’s Day!!
You cursed as you watched Ito Yuki continue to walk and ignore the girls, passively pushing away any one that got too close. You didn’t have shit to give him.
Also it wasn’t White Day so it would’ve been weird if you did… but boys can do Valentine’s Day too..? Right?
Ah, fuck it.
“(L.Name)?!” Ryun whispered as you stepped out into the hallway, right as Ito Yuki come close to passing your classroom.
“What are you doing??” Sana yelled, covering her mouth when a few students looked at her in surprise.
You squared your shoulders and stood up tall, only now noticing you only came up to his chest. Ah, you were a perfect height to suck on his—
Not now, (L.Name)!
Even in your thoughts you didn’t even use your first name. You let out a sigh and gave Ito Yuki your signature flirty smirk. Your eyes peering up at him, giving yourself a cute look. You had multiple ways of flirting, especially when it came to boys or girls.
A true bisexual playboy!
“Ito-San.” You said, blinking slightly to flutter your eyelashes. Ito seemed to be focusing on something else in his mind despite his eyes on you. Well you can’t have that.
You leaned in closer, resting your hand on his arm. You felt him visibly twitch at your touch, earning a slight grin on your lips. Too easy. There was whispering happening around you but you didn’t care. You’ve asked out people in public spaces loads of times.
This… was a piece of a cake.
“Ito-San… you’re—”
“—hot?”
You blinked, staring up at him in shock. Did he just? Your lips parted as you short circuited—should you continue or just come up with something on the fly? A slight gasp left you as his hand reached up and grabbed the back of your head, bringing you closer.
The crowd erupted into gasps, even Ryun and Sana looked absolutely shocked. You couldn’t even think. Someone.. was taking control? You—you—??!?
His breath tickled your ears as your eyes clinched shut, your hands digging into his blazer as you let out a stuttered breath. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle.
“Sure. Let’s make out.” He said, loud enough for only you to hear. With that, he pulled away, his hand gently rubbing the back of your head before dropping. His face was stoic, his lips straight but you could almost see a slight smirk on them as he walked past you.
It was hushed whispers as everyone dispersed as soon as the school bell rang, signaling lunch was over. Ryun and Sana ran over to you, Sana gripping your shoulders as she shook you.
“Hey, what the hell was that?!” She cried.
You only let out a whimper, looking at the both of them in pure shock. “I…I don’t know…”
“Wow. Ito Yuki changed. He put (L.Name) in his place!” Ryun laughed, patting you on the back. “So? He rejected you?”
Right. They didn’t hear him. You paused, almost wondering if you should tell them. Would they believe you? Sana and Ryun looked at you expectedly.
“Yea…” You muttered, laughing slightly. “He rejected me.” You looked down as Sana rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner. Ryun just patted your head as they steered you back to the classroom.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“I..Ito Yuki?!”
You glanced up as you heard your classmates exclaim in shock. Ito… Yuki? It had only been a week since that incident happened and you hadn’t seen Ito a lot. But that was to be expected. He was in 3-A, smartest of the third years and c student council president.
Sana and Ryun were geeking out beside you as Ito walked into the classroom, heading straight towards you. You felt weird. Not uncomfortable but odd. Like your body was… scared of him? But it wasn’t a bad scared. It reminded you of going on a rollercoaster.
The fear during but the ecstasy afterwards.
“(L.Name).”
Oh. That’s a first. You didn’t like hearing him say that. Huh.
“H..Hello, Ito-San.” You muttered, your grip tightening on your bag as he looked at you. His gaze was intense, even with his overgrown bangs. You wished those bangs covered his eyes more.
“Let’s go on a date.”
The classroom erupted into screams at his words. Date?! Date with you of all people?! No one even cared that Ito was surprisingly into men. No, it was surprising he would go for someone like you. The school campus’s proud playboy that was barely passing through school!
You didn’t even get to answer as his hand grabbed your wrist and began tugging you along. Your eyes met Sana and Ryun who looked at you with pure shock. You couldn’t blame them.
You’ve never really gone on dates before. Sure, at the beginning in first year when you were starting out your slut activities. But by second year, anyone who dated you knew that you mostly wanted them for sex. So to have Ito Yuki, of all people, coming to date you was… shocking.
Also fake. It had to be fake.
Yeouch!
Not fake. Not fake at all.
This was how you’d soon find yourself in a movie theater. Ito had something about liking movie dates and there was a movie he wanted to watch. A horror movie maybe? You couldn’t pay attention. You sat down beside him, staring off into space as the movie began playing.
It was an American movie, judging by the fact you couldn’t understand them. You glanced up at the screen, seeing the subtitles on the right. Ah, a slasher. You’ve seen multiple slashers so you knew the format like you knew blowjobs.
But you didn’t expect Ito to be interested in this type of stuff. You glanced over at him, watching as he stared straight at the screen, occasionally taking a sip from his soda. Huh, he’s zoned in.
You sighed and decided to get comfortable. Lucky for you, most slashers knew not to over stay their welcome. So you began watching, occasionally glancing at the other moviegoers who decided to watch a slasher at 5:00 pm on a Friday.
Mainly older couples. A few high schools students. And what you could assume some college students.
A hand grazed your thigh which caused you to let out a loud gasp. Luckily a jumpscare drowned you out. You looked down to see the arm rest pulled up that blocked you from Ito and his hand resting just an inch from your thigh.
Huh. What did he..?
You didn’t get to think any further when another loud jumpscare filled the theater. Your attention turned right as a poor woman was sawed in half. Oh, what a way to die. There continued to be gorey deaths that you forgot all about Ito’s strange decision to pull up the armrest.
Not until the movie cut to a random couple having sex in the car. Ah, you knew kills like this. Directors seemed to love having naked women run for their life after their boyfriend is killed.
There’s probably something wrong about that.
Before you could delve deeper into this question you felt a hand rest on your thighs. Just as you were about to even look down, the hand moved to your crotch and squeezed. A gasped left you that was coincidentally timed with the actress’s.
Has Ito’s hands always been this big? You let out a sharp shudder as you watched him grope your crotch. Really, you should’ve pushed him away. But you were just shocked that someone like Ito would be doing this.
And in a weird way, you did… like it? But it didn’t last long, just as the actress was killed by the killer, Ito pulled away. You couldn’t help your slight whimper as you glanced over at him. He didn’t even spare you a look.
Jerk.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“You went on a date?!”
You sighed as you rubbed your eyes, staring at the two clowns in your room. Ryun and Sana had a spare key to your home—thanks mom!—so they didn’t even need to wait for you to open it. It was the next day after your date with Ito. It ended a bit unsatisfactory.
He just walked you home and waved goodbye. He didn’t even give you his number.
“Yea… he literally said that yesterday after class.” You whined, wanting to just plop back down and sleep. You masturbated all night last night, wishing he had touched you more. Which was a fucking first. You usually never have a wet dream about your partners.
“Wow… maybe, Ito-San likes you?” Ryun muttered, biting his lip as he sat down on your bed.
“Ito-San and (L.Name)?! That’s crazy.” Sana exclaimed. “But Ito-San isn’t someone to prank around.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Mhm~ maybe this sexy body has him curious.” You teased, sending a flirty wink to Ryun. He looked at you with pure disgust.
“Yeah, right.” Ryun grabbed a pillow and threw it at your face. “If he does, I owe you dinner for a week.”
“Deal!”
“Oh,” Sana suddenly muttered. “Wouldn’t yesterday be the start of the week? So you’ll break up with him next week Friday?”
You pursed your lips. Yeah, she was right. But why did you suddenly hate the idea of leaving him? You only gave a noncommittal nod and get out of bed, wanting to just take a shower and wash off the masturbation from last night.
Ito had to have know about you. He knew your usual phrase when asking someone out.
Well, you had the rest of the week to find out what he wanted from you.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Technically you didn’t. Because it was already next Friday and he didn’t come for you at all. It wasn’t like you could call him either—you didn’t have his phone number. Sana and Ryun could tell it was affecting you but you didn’t even know why.
You’ve dealt with this. Sometimes the weekly partner ended up being just one night. And sure, you got a bit upset the next day but you’d bounce right back right after. You didn’t understand at all.
“(L.Name).”
You glanced over to see Ito Yuki staring down at you. Your classmates seemed able to not scream like last time. But their phones were out and were whispering to each other.
“I..Ito-San..?” You slowly stood up, looking up at him in shock. You should’ve been mad but you felt your heart flutter. Wow, you must’ve really wanted his dick.
“Let’s go to my house.” He said, which earned a round of gasps. Sana and Ryun looked like deers in headlights. You could only nod as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the classroom.
Damn, Ito Yuki. He’s probably the only partner that ever had you this bad over dick. And you haven’t even had it yet! Shame it was the last day.
Once you reached his house, you were shocked at how big it was. “Wow… Ito-San, are your parents rich?” You asked, slipping off your shoes as you walked behind him.
“Yuki.”
“Hm?” You replied, grunting when you bumped into him.
“We’re dating, no? So call me by my given name. That’s what couples do.” It—Yuki said nonchalantly, moving to go to the kitchen. You followed right behind him, unable to hide the growing heat on your face. This.. this was a first.
Would he do the same…? You hoped he would.
Much to your surprise, Yuki began making dinner for you. It wasn’t anything difficult, just chicken Katsu curry. You tried to help but he quite literally manhandled you to sit down at the dining table. If there was a growing bulge in your pants you quickly decided to ignore it.
After he finished, he placed a bowl in front of you and sat down beside you. You ate in complete silent. It was a bit uncomfortable because you weren’t used to dinners like this but it gave you perfect view of Yuki.
He looked so pretty? You weren’t sure. He had pulled his bangs back with a cute hello kitty pin and you couldn’t help but wonder who gave him that. He didn’t seem like the boy to like cute stuff. You were able to see his eyes better now—fox like eyes staring right at you.
You coughed slightly and looked down at your curry. “Hm, this is good curry, Yuki. Who, uh, taught you how to make it?”
“My mom.”
“Oh. Where’s your parents?”
“They’re out for the weekend.” He said, his eyes trailing down your face, right to your lips. “They won’t be back until Monday.”
Oh? A slight shudder left your body as your back straightened. The whole weekend? Did he not want this to last the week?
“But today is a full week?”
Yuki hummed. “Since we started dating? Yeah, do you like those type of things?”
“Eh?”
“Keeping track of how long we’ve been together? Do you like doing that? I can do it for you.” He said, finishing his plate off.
“Uh—”
“Sorry I couldn’t meet you during the week, I had to help plan the festival coming up.” He reached over and grabbed your plate. The plates clinked together as he carried them to the sink, gently dropping them in.
Before you could stand up, you felt Yuki rest his chin on your shoulder. You flinched at the touch but calmed down as his nose nuzzled your neck. A giggle left your lips at the ticklish touch. He pressed a kiss on your collarbone before pulling away, motioning for you to get up.
“Do you,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing the back of your head. “want to make out?” You didn’t even think before eagerly nodding, looking up at him expectantly. He pressed his lips against yours with ease. His glasses pushed against your face but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.
Your hand slowly reached up his body before resting themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling at his button up. Your lips locked with his, easily moving in tandem without pulling apart. Breathing didn’t seem important at the moment.
You hadn’t even noticed you were standing on your toes until the pressure on them began to hurt. A struggled gasp left you as you pulled away, needing to catch a breath while also resting back on the balls of your feet. But Yuki immediately chased your lips, sacrificing his back as he bent down.
His hands gripped your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin. When did he even pull open your shirt? You didn’t get to think with how eager he was kissing you. It felt like you were the inexperienced one with how easily he was taking control.
“Y-Yuki.” You managed to moan into his lips, pulling away to breathe. A giggle left you when he subconsciously chased after your lips again but you pressed a finger against his. “Wait a minute.”
It was different—but in a good way. You were always the one in control during make outs. People were the one to pull away after you made them breathless. It was exciting for it to be the opposite.
“Are you…?” You whispered, wanting to make sure.
Sure, you were a degenerate who liked having sex with virgins, but you always toned yourself down when you did. Treat them like glass unless stated otherwise was your motto!
Yuki hummed. “Virgin? Yeah.”
“Do you know how—?”
“—I’m a virgin, not an idiot.”
You pouted. “I was just checking. Your first time needs to be good.”
“It’s already good.” He whispered, a slight smirk on his lips when you looked away in embarrassment. “But it could be better.”
“Hm? Better how?”
For the first time ever, you saw Yuki’s lips pull into a full smirk. Oh no.
Oh no indeed…
In front of you on the bed was a dress. A cute dress. But a dress nonetheless. It was white with a black bow on the chest. Frilly ends on the sleeves. Paired with white stockings.
The outfit reminded you of something but you didn’t know what.
You dated a lot of people. You’ve done strange shit because of people’s kinks. This, was tame. You shuddered at the time you dressed like a dog. Not even just dog ears and a tail… a full on dog.
Honestly this was a breath of fresh air. So you huffed and slipped out of your clothes, putting on the outfit with ease. Hm, it fit perfectly. You briefly wondered if Yuki somehow had your measurements.
“I’m dressed, Yuki.” You called, slipping on the last stockings. There was a mirror on the closet door. You moved over and couldn’t help but twirl. The dress really was cute. You took in the detailing of the dress and noticed a slight stain on one of the sleeves. But how could it have gotten a stain? Did Yuki make other people wear this?
That left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just because he was a virgin didn’t mean he hadn’t fooled around before. Which you couldn’t judge. That was your reputation!
A pair of arms wrapped around your waist causing you to flinch. Yuki hummed as he looked at you from the mirror. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his face still stoic. But the way his hands gripped your waist and body as it trailed around you.
“It still fits.” He suddenly muttered. “I was worried you would’ve grown too much since then.”
“Huh? Grown?”
“You don’t remember it?” His hands gripped your waist as he easily spun you around to face him. “First year. School festival.”
Festival? You stared at him confused for a moment before gasping in disbelief. “No way! You kept this?! I thought I threw it out?!” You said, pulling at the fabric in pure shock.
In your first year, your class did a maid cafe, but instead of girls, it was boys as the maids. You played as the head maid because you looked more girlish compared to everyone when you wore the wig. It was fun but you didn’t see the use in keeping the dress after so you threw it up.
Apparently Yuki found it.
“You did. I just grabbed it before they took out the trash. I would’ve saved the wig too..” he muttered, a slight pout on his lips.
You couldn’t help the slight scoff leaving you. “Wig? Do you want me to be a girl?”
“No. You just looked… cute. I like cute things.” He said, shrugging. “You just look cuter feminine.”
“But I don’t even remember you at the festival.”
Yuki hummed. “How could you? I was shorter than you back then. But I remember you. The cute head maid flaunting his cute little dress in front of everyone.”
You blushed. “I wouldn’t say I flaunted it…”
“Really? I think you were a lot of guys awakening that day. So many eyes on you.” His hands tugged at the bottom of the skirt. “Hm, you grew in height. It’s much shorter now.”
You reached down and noticed that it was resting just at the end of your ass. Certainly shorter than in first year when it was closer to your knees. Well at least you can say you did have a growth spurt… just nothing compared to Yuki’s.
“So, you want to have sex with me in it?”
“Mhm. I’ve masturbated to you wearing it for years now.”
You sputtered in shock, watching as Yuki moved away to possibly grab a condom and lube. This Ito Yuki was nothing to the one you thought you knew back at school. The way he could say it so casually made you feel some type of way. But you couldn’t explain it.
Gosh, you’d assume you’re the virgin.
With a slight pep talk in your mind, you squared your shoulders and stormed over to Yuki. He looked over at you and tilted his head, opening his lips to ask something but you pushed him down on the bed. Though you had to use a lot of strength for that—jeez, how tough was he?
You straddled his hips and grinned, looking down at him. “Don’t worry, Yuki~! I’ll make your first time special.” You whispered, gently rubbing your ass against his growing bulge.
Yuki seemed to want to say something but you kissed him, helping him pull off his pants. You knew what to do. You’ve done this so many times it was practically second nature. When you slipped off his boxers, you almost whimpered at the sight.
It was bigger than any you’ve seen before. That stereotype of slender men having bigger dicks didn’t seem like an internet lie anymore. You wondered if it looked bigger when he was thinner and didn’t have the lean muscle he had now.
Shit.
“Are you ready for your first blowjob?” You asked, smirking slightly. You expected him to finally start acting like a blushing virgin but he looked more so bored? Huh?
“Another time. I wanna be in you.”
You felt your cheeks flush. He wanted you quickly, huh? That’s a first. There were even times guys just wanted a blowjob from you and nothing else. This was, interesting to say the least. You gave him a hum and pulled down your own boxers, pulling up the dress.
You felt his eyes zero in on your body as you grabbed the lube and squirt some on your fingers. This was the best. Having someone watch you as you got yourself ready for them. You didn’t waste anytime, easily slipping in two fingers inside your hole. A grunt left you but you kept going, easily stretching yourself out.
If Yuki wanted to be inside, he’d get it. Besides, who doesn’t like a little bit of pain?
The dress was sticking to your skin already and you hadn’t even got his cock inside you yet. It was thin and a bit cheap in material but it certainly knew how to make you warm.
You reached over and grabbed the condom on the nightstand, easily tearing it open with your teeth. The slight eyebrow raise from Yuki made you smirk. It was a habit that you gained from sleeping around so much. Also past partners said it was sexy so you kept doing it.
What works, works!
After finally slipping the condom onto his cock, which surprisingly fit, you moved up to level your ass with his cock. You gave him a slight smile and rest your hand on his chest.
“You can always tell me to stop, okay?” You whispered, making sure he heard you. Yuki only gave you a nod, a look of impatience in his eyes.
Not wanting to make him anymore restless, you wordlessly began to sink down onto his cock. A short gasp filled the room as your fingers gripped his shirt. He was huge but feeling it inside was a whole different experience. You haven’t slept with a guy in a minute so you certainly felt a bit nervous than normal.
But it was fine.
The sight of Yuki was pretty to say the least. He still had on his stupid glasses, the hello kitty pin that held back his bangs. His face was already sweaty while his lips pulled into a slight grimace.
Ah, you knew the face well.
You leaned in close to him—your noses touching.
“Good? It’ll get better from here.” You grinned, leaning back as you slowly rolled your hips.
Except it didn’t really..?
It had to have been maybe ten minutes and Yuki hadn’t cummed at all. You came once which was embarrassing since you weren’t used to cumming before your partners. But you thought maybe he was just nervous so you kept bouncing on his cock.
But by the ten minute mark, he looked bored.
You thought you were imagining it but no, you could tell he was zoning out. His eyes were focused on you but he wasn’t reacting. Even when you picked up the pace, he didn’t even grunt.
A wave of embarrassment mixed in with anger flared within you. You stilled your hips to a stop, finally earning Yuki’s attention as he blinked and actually paid attention to you.
“Seriously…” You grunted, rolling your eyes. “If I’m that boring, you take over!” You were so used to being in control that you actually didn’t want him to take over. Really you wanted to go home, fully embarrassed that in the first time in forever, your partner wasn’t satisfied.
The hands that once laid on your thighs without any grip slowly moved upwards, digging its’ nails into the free upper thigh that wasn’t covered by your knee socks. You let out a surprised grunt at the pain but you didn’t even get to say anything about it before they trail up and grip your waist.
A gasp leaves you when you feel his hips slam up into you.
“Wh—?”
Colors blur as you feel yourself be pushed down onto the bed, your head bouncing slightly from the fast movement. Your legs are grabbed and pushed up, almost knocking yourself in the face.
“Yuki..!” You managed to cry out at his manhandling but he doesn’t seem to care at the moment. You can only watch as he takes off the hair clip and carelessly tosses it away. His bangs fall over his eyes and to your dismay, you can’t see them this time.
Doesn’t help the bedroom is only lit by a small lamp on the nightstand. The shadows practically cover his upper face beside his lips. You can see a slight glint in his glasses but he soon removed them as well, gently resting them on the nightstand.
It’s weird. Your stomach starts to feel weird again. That same feeling when he pulled you close on Valentine’s Day. What was this?
A quick slap of skin bleeds into the room as your thoughts are jumbled before you could even think. You could’ve sworn you heard a cry—like a high pitched voice. Was that?
Yeah, it was you.
Your back arched as Yuki slammed his cock inside you in a constant rhythm. There was cries and whimpers coming straight from you in tandem with his thrusts. You’ve never sounded like this before—you didn’t even think you could make a sound like this.
Your eyes began to water as you pressed your hand against your lips, wanting to muffle the new strange sounds coming.
“Hey…” Yuki’s thrusting slowed down as he reached over and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away. “Did I say you can do that?” His fingers tightened around your wrist, earning a slight squeak from you in pain.
A laugh filled the room. A boyish smile appearing on Yuki’s lips. He looked so scary like this. No eyes for you to look in. Just the sight of his lips being your only way of knowing how he’s feeling.
“You’re so cute. Like a little hamster.”
“H..Hamster..?”
“Mhm.” His thrusting began again, filling the room with the sounds of squelching and skin slapping. “Cute little hamster. Squishy.”
“Squish—!”
A whimper left you as your toes curled. Shit, you were cumming already?! You let out a grunt and turned your head to the side, wanting to just bury it in the soft bedsheets beneath you.
“Two already.” Yuki said absentmindedly, his hands releasing your thighs as he slowed down his thrusting. You glanced over at him, seeing his hands trail up your body. They were veiny. Larger than yours. He could hold both of your wrists with one hand. You shuddered at the thought.
“Don’t make fun of me.” You whispered, hoping he would just cum already.
Yuki hummed. “I’m making fun of you?” He asked, genuinely confused. You wish you could see his eyes—just to see a glimpse into what he’s thinking. But all you get a little smile.
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m keeping count.” His hands reached the top of your collar, slowly tightening around it. You hummed, wondering what he was about to do. “So I can give you more next time.”
“Give me more?”
“Mhm.”
The sound of fabric tearing caught your attention as you glanced down and saw your dress being torn apart by Yuki’s hands. It started off slow, as if he was fighting the seams before easily pulling it apart once he reached the middle.
A strangled moan left you at the show of strength. Oh man. How could you survive any longer with this guy?
“Yuki!”
“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said, leaning down as he pressed kisses on your bare skin. Your toes curled as you gripped at the bed sheets beneath you. “I’ll buy you prettier dresses.”
A breathy whimper left your lips. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Why wouldn’t there be? You’re my boyfriend.” He pulled out his cock and easily flipped you to rest on the side of your stomach. He plopped down behind you and raised one of your legs, slotting himself easily back into your tight heat.
“Y… You actually like me..?” You muttered, gasping as he begins a slow and steady pace, resting his chin on your shoulder.
Yuki simply hummed. “I wanna fuck you. We can talk later.” He said bluntly. You shrieked as he captured your lips into a kiss and began fucking you in a harsh pace.
The sounds of skin slapping and your muffled moans filled the room. Your fingers digging into the bed while his dug into your skin. There was a slight burn on your thighs and you weren’t sure if he possibly broke your skin from just how hard he gripped you.
You pulled away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath when you noticed why Yuki had put you in this position. The fucking mirror.
Damn pervert.
You couldn’t really hide yourself, not with his arm holding you up. All you could do was kiss him again, not having to see your fucked out expression. It didn’t take long for you to reach another orgasm with ease, the cum coating your stomach in a sight of white liquid.
A whimper left your sore throat as Yuki maneuvered you to rest on your knees as he continued fucking into you. Finally, you buried your face into the sheets, biting them to muffle your moans.
“I’m close. Just a little more, (Name)-Chan.”
Yuki let out a surprised grunt when he felt you tighten around his cock. You whimpered in embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut. No way. No way that your body just did that.
A slight chuckle left Yuki as he draped his chest against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. “So cute, (Name)-Chan.” With that, he pulled away and gripped your hips as he chased his own release. It didn’t take too long, his grunts mixing in with your cries.
His hips slammed against your ass as he groaned, finally reaching his orgasm. You hummed before feeling something wet coat your insides. Yuki pulled away and hummed.
“It broke.”
You turned around, seeing him hold a broken condom. “It broke?!” You cried, moving to sit up only to wince in pain. “Yuki… why are you so calm?!”
“It’s fine. It looks pretty.” He said, pointing at the cum slowly leaking from your ass.
“Pervert!”
“Mhm.” He pushed up his sweaty bangs and sighed, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Shower?”
“Yeah. Uhm, are we… a couple?”
“Yeah.” He got off the bed and leaned over to you, a slight smirk on his lips. “I’m the only man you can be a slut for from now on.”
“I’m not a slut!”
Yuki only gave you a shrug before walking away to start the bath. Well, it looked like you weren’t a playboy anymore.
But it felt good.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
First fic back!! Way longer than it needed to be… hope yall like Yuki. I kinda want to make him into a full OC, but I’ll see.
Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @ofclyde @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @smellwell @love-kha1 @star-3214 @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world
#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#male reader#male bottom reader#mlm nsft#x male smut#smut ideas
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I would love to see Derek with a super confident sunshine gf but May be she gets super shy and flustered when he compliments her or makes a dirty joke and just like the first time it happens and Derek is so taken aback by her shyness bc he's used to her being chatty and confident
“Hi, Dr. Reid.”
Derek knows it’s gonna be a good day when you come in already flirting.
“Hi,” Spencer says. “Want a bagel?”
“Thanks, handsome, but I already had breakfast.” Derek leans back in his chair to watch you, and you see his moving, turning your attention to him with an equally brilliant smile. “Hi, Agent Morgan.”
“You can call me Derek, baby.”
“No, I don’t think so,” you say lightly. You pull your pea coat tighter against yourself and give a breath. “Is it cold in here today, or is it just me?”
“There’s a problem with the radiators,” Spencer says. “They sent out an email this morning to dress warmly. It’ll be fixed by tomorrow, apparently.”
“Oh. I didn’t see. I don’t think I’m dressed for the cold,” you say, looking down at your short heels. “I would’ve worn sneakers like you, Spence.”
“I brought some extra socks?” Spencer says.
“Well, keep me a pair in case I need them?” you ask.
“Sweetheart, if it’s warming up you need, you come straight to me,” Derek says, his tone warm as his promise, “I’ll find a way to keep you comfortable, that’s on my life, don’t waste your time with anybody else.”
He doesn’t mean it to sound so heavily sexual, but he absolutely did mean for it to be an innuendo. Regardless, he isn’t expecting this —you look straight to Spencer like you want to check he’s heard it, and you fluster hard, fisting the strap of your purse where it’s snug over your shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips.
“Okay,” you say shyly, nodding, looking at the space to the left of Derek’s shoulder. “Won’t waste my time.”
He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve always been sweet like that, your sunny disposition drew him to you like a moth to a flame, and yet Derek can’t recall ever having made you fluster so quickly, and so visibly.
Derek suspects he’d find neck hot under his hand with a flush if he touched it. laughs loudly, pen in his hands wagging up and down as he fights the urge to say anything else and prolong your agony.
You give a soft laugh, flustered, embarrassed and breathless, tapping his ankle with your shoe. “That was a bit mean.”
“Sweetheart,” he says, sorry Spencer has to be here to see it, “I was kidding.”
“I know!” You also give Spencer a sorry look.
Spencer, while sometimes slow to pick up subtle social cues, thankfully gets the idea and stands up from his chair. Derek follows suit, though he doesn’t scarper for the kitchen.
“That caught me off guard,” you say, laughing again as he offers his arms to you.
“What happened?” He tugs you forward. You tuck your arms behind his neck to kiss his jaw, the morning hello.
“You said it like you were bossing me around!” you defend yourself.
“And you liked that?”
“Stop, stop,” you laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it. You never boss me around. You’re nicer than anybody gives you credit for.”
“You think so?” he asks, still teasing, but also vaguely smug. To get to hug you in the office, arms on your waist, prettiest face ever made, Derek can’t help himself. “I really will keep you warm. I’ll get you a heater.”
“You’re my heater.”
“I’m hot-blooded.”
You part ways with mutual reluctance. “You’re something, Derek.”
He enjoys making you laugh, and the shy tilt of your head as you’d recovered, but he’s much happier when you’re bundled up at your desk with a hot cup of coffee and his promised space heater plugged in at your feet, chatting across the way to him about what you want to do this weekend if he doesn’t get called away.
“Maybe we can buy a couple of DVD’s and you can warm me up all weekend,” you suggest, an attempt to pretend you aren’t bothered by his comment anymore, that it had been a momentary lapse in judgement.
Derek’s content to give you anything you ask for. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan fanfic#derek morgan oneshot#derek morgan scenario#derek morgan drabble#derek morgan fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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Hi!! Can you please do one where y/n has been feeling really sick but doesn’t tell lando about it bc he’s been stressed at work and stuff. She ends up kind of being antisocial and rotting in bed bc of her sickness and lando ends up suggesting a break since she doesn’t seem to suit his lifestyle anymore. Y/n ends up running into landos mom at the dr office for a checkup where she finds out she’s pregnant. She asks Cisca to keep it a secret but she ofc tells lando she saw y/n at the dr office. Ending however you want! Thank youuuu
changed slightly buuuuut i like it
Warnings: hospitals, vivi knowing nothing about hospitals
She was sick of everything. Not because she was literally sick of everything, but she was feeling hot and bothered, generally shitty, and her head fucking killed.
Everybody was pissing her off. Her co-workers, her boss. That random guy on the bus that was breathing just a little bit too loud. He noticed her glaring, but went right back to breathing just as loudly.
The minute she got into the apartment, she sagged. She checked the keys on the hook, except no keys were there. It was a little bit of a relief that her boyfriend wasn't home at that minute; there was no telling her close she would have been to snapping at him.
She crawled under the bedsheets, never to emerge again...
Except no because Lando wasn't going to let her rot in bed. When he got home that night, she explained it to him, explained that he was feeling so shitty. Immediately he'd gotten her pain killers, water, and toast.
After four days of her just rotting in their bed, Lando was sick of it. Well, not sick of it, but he was worried. Incredibly worried.
He sat by her bedside and brushed her hair away from her forehead. "I'm begging you to go to the hospital baby," he said and squeezed her hand. "Please."
She stared at him, looking positively grumpy. "I'm fine, Lan," she assured him as she sat up. "I'm gonna go into work tomorrow, I promise."
He released a sigh, but he trusted her. If she said she was fine, then she's fine.
"Keep me updated when I'm racing, please," he said and she agreed.
And she did go into work the next day, but she felt so fucking shitty. She had no choice but to go to the hospital.
Fucking hospitals, she hated them. Sitting there anxiously as she waited to be called into the doctors office. Her knee bounced and she kept her arms wrapped around her midsection, staring down at the floor.
But then she was called into the doctors office. Her steps were quicks as she rushed forward.
"Well, miss L/N," he said as he looked at the results from her bloodwork. "Congratulations, mom!" He pushed the results towards her.
With shaking hands, she picked up the paper and looked at it. Her information, stuff that was too much for her brain to read, and then the results. Yep, she was pregnant. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no."
Tears sprung to her eyes as she put the paper back onto the doctors desk. "I-I need to call my mother in law."
No, she couldn't call Lando. Not while he was racing, not while he was on the other side of the world. It would just worry him while he couldn't get to her. So, instead, she called her future mother in law.
Cisca Norris arrived at the hospital as soon as she could. She found her in the waiting room, where she had been stopping herself from freaking out. But her nails were digging into her palms, leaving little crescent shapes in her skin. "Oh, darling," Cisca said as she pulled her to her feet.
As soon as they got outside, she was in tears, barely able to keep herself standing. But Cisca got her into the car and calmed her down. She talked her through it, got her to the point where she was no longer crying.
"I think you should tell Lando," Cisca said, and she immediately shook her head.
"No, Cisca, I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't." It took everything in her to not break down into tears.
But Cisca just squeezed her hands. "You can do this." She waited for a confirming nod before she called Lando.
His voice came loud and clear through the car. "Hey mum," he said, seemingly without a care in the world.
She sucked in a breath. "Lan?" She squeezed.
"Baby?" He couldn't hide the concern in his voice.
Her entire body shook as she squeezed her eye shut. "Lando, you're gonna be a dad."
She was so quiet, it wasn't clear whether Lando had heard it or not. The slight pause he took didn't help. But then, "Holy shit! I'm gonna be a fucking dad! Let's go!"
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
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Yeah but thinking about a man pissing you off, acting like a brat all day and instead of apologizing he just lays on your shared bed, pulls up his pants enough for his fat ass to spill out, spread his cheeks to show off his hole that’s pulsating for you, doesnt say a word and waits for you to approach him, and if you’re reluctant to do so he’ll let you stand there and watch him work two spit slicked fingers inside of him, grunts and groans escaping his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he fucks himself onto his own fingers, acting as if you aren’t even standing there with a boner
and of course there’s only so much a man can take before you’re crawling over to the bastard, all while he’s trying to suppress the smile on his face, and you can’t find it in yourself to be mad anymore as you slot yourself between his legs, fingers digging into plush thighs, tip of your nose brushing over the coarse dark hairs that lays dusted on his ass, before licking a stripe along the hot wet flesh, hearing a string of curse words attempt to tumble past his lips before he quickly silences them
“Apologize ” you say hot breath washing over his skin, seeing the goosebump raise across his body as the smell of his musk and sweat hits your nosestrils
“Fuck no,” he says through gritted teeth, eyes barley able to stay open as you slide the tip of your tongue inside of him, tentatively licking at the tight ring of muscles.
You just hum in response, too tired and too horny to keep this argument going as you start thrusting your tongue inside his hole, licking, sucking, eating him out, as if your face was buried in a sopping wet cunt.
“Mpf Fuck Fuck Fuck! Yes yes yes just- ah just like that”There’s sobs escaping his lips, body quaking onto the sheets, ankles locking in place to keep you moving away from him.
You continue working your tongue inside , hands spreading his cheeks as wide as those stupid jeans will allow, eagerly lapping at his puffy rim and setting a steady pace with your tongue.
“Mm wait, , stop, it’s stop too much, toooo much,” he suddenly slurs out, hands attempting to crawl away from you even though he’s practically fucking himself back onto your mouth.
Despite his words you see the way he’s looking at you with mouth agape, eyes half lidded, cock surely weeping on his abdomen. So you only tighten you grip on him, as you continue to lick relentlessly.
And it’s not long before he’s tipping over the edge, his hand sloppily fisting his dick while your tongue’s still buried inside of him.
He doesn’t say a word as he cleans himself up, and lays back down on the bed, leaving you down on all four, cock all hard and weeping, wishing he’d let you fuck his hole.
“Bastard,”
#this is a queue: how are you?#dom male reader#top male reader#john price x reader#john price x male reader#soap x reader#soap x male reader#ghost x reader#ghost x male reader#gaz x reader#gaz x male reader#laios x reader#senshi x reader#gojo x reader#top reader#dom reader#x reader#male reader#x male reader#nsft mlm#mlm Nsft
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Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard
Characters: Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard
Reader: GN (afab in Rosi's)
Word Count: 5.7k
CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches, sepsis
Summary: Continuing the series. Blackbeard's is more of a small bonus drabble that came to me, so his doesn't meet the 1k minimum I was shooting for in these. (And Rosi's went way over...)
Ao3 Link
Law
Your opponent is quicker than you're used to. As a cat mink, his reflexes are far better than yours. However, he fights unarmed while you use twin short swords, so you're able to keep some distance between you and even the playing field.
You tilt your head left to avoid his swipe, claws barely missing your face. Acting quickly, you return with a jab that pierces his armor and stabs into his shoulder. He hisses in pain and you grin–that's one arm he can't use anymore.
Your moment of confidence makes you slip up. Focused on the movement of his remaining arm, you're taken by surprise when he suddenly kicks one of your swords right out of your hand. He hasn’t used kicks at all until now, likely to catch you off-guard like this. Before you can recover, he follows up by thrusting his claws into your chest, digging in and unleashing electricity into your body.
Law looks over just in time to see you drop like a stone. “Y/n-ya!” he shouts–but you're unresponsive. He turns to Bepo, fighting by his side. “Bepo! Count to two, then kick as hard as you can where I am!”
Bepo, wisened to Law’s tactics, nods. “Aye-aye!”
Law flexes his fingers. “Room!”
The sphere of his power expands wide to cover the battlefield. He swaps places with the cat mink, hearing it yowl a moment later as Bepo’s foot connects with its gut. Grabbing your arm, he creates one more room from where he is and teleports you both to its perimeter, a safe distance from the fight. Aside from some bloody claw marks, he can't see major injuries.
“Scan!” Law calls, voice tinged with panic as his ability checks your vitals. To his horror, the scan of your body shows your heart has stopped entirely, and his own seems to follow suit. He quickly removes your heart from your body, holding it in his hand. Focusing, he runs his own electric current through your heart in a swift, measured jolt.
The muscle twitches once and remains still.
“No, no, come on.” Law tries again. Zap. No response. “Don’t you do this.” He tries again. Zap. And again, no response. “Come back.” Zap. Your heart is still.
This time, he uses both hands and runs a higher voltage, shouting, “Come back right now!” Your heart jumps–then, finally, starts to beat. The relief is almost nauseating.
Clutching your heart to his chest with one hand, Law tilts your jaw open with his other hand and seals his mouth over yours, delivering rescue breaths until he feels you start to breathe on your own.
Slowly, your eyes open, your breaths shallow but even. He's hovering right over your head, looking into your eyes. “Law?”
“Just stay still.” He runs another scan, making sure everything's running normally.
You try to get up, fighting the sluggishness of your body. “The fight–”
“It’s still going. Lie down.” Law pushes your shoulder, forcing you to recline.
“Then you need to go help them.”
“The rest of the crew has it handled. I'm not leaving you.”
You’re not sure what happened–everything went black while you were fighting–but whatever it was, it must have been bad if Law’s saying that. Still, you’re eager to rejoin the battle. “Am I going to die?” you ask stubbornly as you try to sit up again.
“Don't be ridiculous. I'd never let that happen. Lie down, Y/n-ya.”
Law doesn't let you fight. He doesn’t even let you get up, not until he's checked everything–blood pressure, oxygen level, potential blood clots, your ability to follow commands–and even then, he doesn't give you your heart back, stating he needs to keep an eye on it for a while “just in case.” The battle ends in victory, and you walk back to the crew with a square hole in your chest.
You don't know much about electric shock effects, but you suppose it's okay to make sure your heart hasn't been thrown out of rhythm. It is weird to go about your day with the hole in your body. And it’s weird to feel Law’s fingers around your heart. It’s difficult to describe–a sort of warm, sensitive, almost ticklish physical contact that you feel within your chest, despite it being outside your body. Every time Law picks up your heart, you’re aware. You don’t know where he keeps it, but it must be somewhere on his person; you feel it at random throughout the day or as you’re laying in bed at night. You can infer he stays up late, as you often fall asleep to the sensation of him holding it in his hand.
Throughout all those days, you’ve never felt more secure, never slept more soundly than when you do knowing he’s keeping your very heart safe by his side.
Every day Law does another exam, taking the time to run a scan on your body. It seems a bit excessive to you, but you’re not about to tell him that. You’re just grateful for the attention, truth be told. You and Law have been close for a while now, even exchanging some fond words in the rare moments you’re alone, but neither of you have the courage to risk damaging your friendship. But having him literally hold onto your heart makes you feel linked to him in a way you never have before, and it’s driving you insane.
“All clear?” you ask as Law finishes another scan.
“Yes, you look good,” he says, making your cheeks warm at the phrasing, “though, occasionally your heart rate picks up when you’re at a resting state. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I will.” He holds up your heart in front of his face, scratching his beard with his other hand as he thinks. “Like now.”
That answer is fairly obvious to you, and entirely his fault. Watching him inspect your heart so closely makes you oddly nervous. And he puts his hands on you during these exams, too, feeling lymph nodes on your neck and instructing you to breathe in and out while he listens to your lungs. What are you supposed to do? You can’t help it. It’s involuntary.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Well, there was a hole where your heart should be that only he could fill. But you don’t say that. You just mumble, “I feel fine.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s always true.” Aside from some fatigue in the beginning, you’ve otherwise been back to normal. “What do you think? Can I have it back?”
He thinks for a second. “Alright, one more day, then, just to be safe. Do you mind?”
“No, I don’t,” you say. “It’s weirdly comforting, to be honest.”
“How?” Law looks at you incredulously. “I could crush your heart in my hand right now.”
Of course that would be his perspective. The risk of trusting someone so intimately isn’t lost on him. But after all these years, you would easily trust Law with your life, so you simply shrug. “You wouldn’t break my heart, would you?”
He stiffens. Surely you didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but the way you say it–so earnestly, so innocently, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours–he can’t help but feel a pang of longing. He desperately wants to protect you, to make right where he failed in the past. Law wants to reassure you, to bring you comfort that he hasn’t figured out how to give.
Instead, he says, “No.”
“Promise?” you ask softly.
“I promise, Y/n-ya.” Your heart beats faster in his hand. Law looks down at it, then at you, and there’s a flash of understanding in his eyes.
“Okay,” you say. If he’s finally figured it out, maybe…maybe this is your chance. “Prove it.”
“How?” He looks a bit shocked, and the way his eyes keep flitting between your heart and your face tells you that he knows exactly how.
You’re slow in your approach, and even slower when you put your arms around his neck, giving him plenty of time to back away. He’s uncertain, frozen in place, but if he wants you to stop, he isn’t saying so.
You lean in. Law closes his eyes. Your heart beats like crazy in his hand.
You kiss him. Just a brief, soft touch of your lips.
“Law,” you breathe. “Was that okay?”
Law responds by cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another.
Afterwards, he jokes that he doesn’t want to give your heart back. But that’s alright. Truth be told, he’d stolen it a long time ago.
Shanks
You return to consciousness through a cloud of black spots in your eyes, flashing in and out of your vision like raindrops on glass. It's immediately accompanied by the piercing whine of your ears ringing. You can’t hear anything else, nor can you tell where you are. A battle…you were pretty sure there was a battle.
The spots recede to the edges of your vision, and you can see a cloudy sky, filling with gray smoke. You’re on your back. Faintly, you can hear shouts, filtering in through the shrill whine. A few seconds later, your brain starts putting names to the voices. Yasopp, Benn, Shanks.
Your captain’s face fills your vision a moment later. Instantly, you know something is very, very wrong, because you’ve never seen Shanks look panicked before. It’s just not an emotion in his repertoire. Always cool, always collected, always joyful, until now. He’s shouting something–your name.
“–you hear me? Just hang on. Hongo’s on his way. Fuck, fuck!”
“...Shanks…” you rasp, dimly becoming aware of your body. “What happened…?”
“It’s my fault, I didn’t stop them in time, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
It’s distant, but pain starts trickling through your body. Dull, throbbing pain, everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.
“It’s okay,” you say, trying to raise your head to assess yourself.
“Don’t!” Shanks stops you with a hand on your forehead. “Don’t move.”
Gradually, you start remembering the battle. The chaos, the noise. Now, there’s no more sound except the ringing in your ears, so it must be over. You were fighting someone who specialized in explosives, that was it. That explained the hurt, and the confusion.
“I was hit,” you say slowly.
Shanks just nods, looking grim.
Benn appears on your other side, crouching next to you and frowning. You search his face for an idea of the damage, but he keeps it carefully still as he looks you up and down. Then his eyes meet Shanks’, and they exchange a look that gives you a bad feeling.
As the ringing dies down just a little and your vision clears, the pain grows. It’s distracting, more so than you’re used to, but what’s even more distracting is the particular lack of it where it should be.
“...Shanks?” you say. “I can’t feel my leg.”
His lower lip wobbles, and then his lips press together in a tight, thin line, and that’s when you know. You lift your head to try and see, but he stops you again. “Don’t look. It’s better if you don’t look.”
It’s funny–he looks like the one on the verge of falling apart. You hate to see him so distraught, so unlike himself, all his cheerful confidence vanished.
“It’s my left leg…” you say.
“Yeah...”
“That means we match.”
He smiles ruefully, tears breaking from his lash line and running free. “Yeah.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” you say, reaching for his hand.
He takes it gently. “That’s my line.”
Coping is a funny thing. You spend most of your energy post-surgery comforting Shanks. Not because he can’t handle it by himself, and not because he asks you too. It’s just easier to externalize the situation, to make it about his self-blame rather than address the gaping loss of your body.
Shanks tries to hide it from you, to not burden you, but you know him too well. Eventually, you get tired of how he drinks himself into a stupor most nights. You get tired of how your crutches irritate your armpits, tired of how you keep losing balance, tired of the phantom pains that shoot through nerves that aren’t there anymore. You snap at him. You shout. You cry that blaming himself won’t regrow your leg, so can’t he please just be there for you? You need him–you’ve always needed him–now more than ever before.
It’s an ugly, broken confession, but it finally reaches him.
Shanks pulls you in close and apologizes. His eyes are moist even though he’s not usually a crier, overwhelmed by what he’s put you through, overwhelmed that you’re finally admitting your feelings under such nightmarish conditions.
“I love you,” he whispers, over and over. “I love you.”
Healing is both easier after that, and yet harder. Now, with no distraction from your loss, you have to face it head on. It’s easier because he’s there. That he’s been through this before makes you cling to him more than you would have, surrounding yourself in the grim comforts of someone who understands. Shanks holds you tight on those nights when you scream “it’s gone,” over and over, lets you squeeze his hand when you have phantom pain, helps you shower when you can’t manage it by yourself, supports you on your first shaky steps using the prosthetic. The recovery journey is an arduous one, but you make it out the other side closer than ever before.
Years later, it’s something you can joke about without feeling that twinge of loss, especially when your crewmates call you and Shanks a complementary set. Now that you’re finally official with him and back to your full battle capacity, you can appreciate what happened to you for what it proved: that together, you and Shanks are complete.
Mihawk
You and Mihawk were opposite sides of the same coin. As different as you could be from each other, but still inexplicably connected as longtime rivals. Being warlords was the only thing you really had in common: He was a swordsman, you used guns; he sailed alone, you commanded a large crew; his colors of arms was better, your colors of observation was better. He preferred not to talk much, while you loved to egg him into trading banter. Many clashes with each other throughout the years solidified your strange, thrilling rivalry until you looked forward to the rare times you ran into each other.
Nowadays, you only really see each other during warlord meetings. So, when you were ambushed by your own crew, Mihawk was the last person you expected to save you.
He took out the four men holding you down, tossed you your pistols, and fought by your side. Your crew wasn’t weak by any means– you hand-picked them to sail with you–and had you been alone, you wouldn't have survived. With your combined strength, however, the battle was over quickly.
It surprised Mihawk, then, that you didn't stick around to bother him like you usually did. You fired a smoke round and disappeared. He figured that you were demoralized from the mutiny and didn't have it in you, but when the smoke cleared, he saw tell-tale drops of blood where you were.
Mihawk finds you in an abandoned shed not far from the battle. You're panting, hunched down against the wall and facing away from him, a first aid kit at your feet. He's as quiet as a cat when he approaches, but naturally you sense him anyway.
“How did you find me?” you ask without looking up.
“I followed the blood trail,” he says flatly. “You should have stemmed the flow before running off.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Did you tie a tourniquet first?” he asks, and even from there he can see you roll your eyes.
“Can’t. It’s not in the right place.” You raise shaky arms to your head, fiddling with something–stitches, most likely.
“Let me see.”
You glare at him for a moment, eyes uncharacteristically hard and angry. Then you quietly relent by turning, letting him see your other side. There’s a long, deep gash going from your temple down to your neck. Still oozing blood, he can't see for sure, but estimates it's gone down to the bone. You’ve got a few crude, clumsy stitches started in the top, the needle hanging from the wire, but without being able to see what you’re doing, it’s a piss poor job.
Mihawk wordlessly approaches you and crouches down, sharp gold eyes fixed on your wound. “It needs to be redone,” he says, unsheathing Kogatana and cutting through your stitches. You don’t so much as flinch when he pulls the wires out–you wouldn’t dare in front of him, he supposes. He’d likely do the same. Maybe you were more alike than he thought.
He takes the first aid kid from the ground and re-threads the needle, then starts to stitch your wound, pressing gauze to soak up the blood as he goes. “It's deep,” he says.
”That explains why it stings so bad,” you mumble. While you successfully resist the urge to wince, you can’t stop yourself from tearing up. “Man…”
“It could be worse. It went down to your skull, but the bone itself wasn't damaged.”
“What, are you trying to cheer me up?” You turn to look at him, but he tilts your chin back to the side and chides you to hold still.
You exhale harshly through your nose at the unpleasant sensation. “I hate needles,” you say suddenly. “I hate sharp things in general. The thought of a blade going through skin gives me the creeps.” He doesn’t respond, and you feel awkward, but you continue anyway, feeling the words tumbling out of you before you can stop them. “I’ve teased you about using swords, but the truth is, I could never.”
Mihawk doesn’t pause in his stitching, only hums. “If it’s worth anything, I’m a terrible shot.”
The corner of your lip twitches up. It does make you feel a little better, to be honest.
You glance at the swordsman as he works. His eyes are always so much more intense up close. You used to find it unsettling, but right now, focused as they are on your wound, it just seems oddly endearing. You glance away, blinking quickly, and a tear breaks from your lash line.
When Mihawk pauses to wipe it away, it’s so fluid and unhesitating that you debate if it really happened at all. Warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you avoid looking at him.
“Hey, ‘Hawk,” you say.
“What?”
You stare at the ground carefully. “Why did you help me?”
He’s quiet for a while, perhaps thinking about his answer, perhaps just keeping up his mysterious image.
“You’re the only one who’s ever successfully shot me,” he finally says. “To think someone of your caliber would be taken out by such cowardly tactics doesn’t sit right with me.”
You let that sink in while he finishes his work, tying off the stitches and applying the bandages. It’s weird–all the times you’ve bickered, all the times you’ve fought with lethal intent, and yet you trust with all your heart that Mihawk won’t harm you right now.
You’ve let your guard down too much, you think to yourself. That’s how you missed the warning signs of your crew’s mutiny, that’s how you got injured in battle, that’s how you’ve let Mihawk get this close.
Even then, you find yourself leaning your head into his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb over your cheek.
The reality of what you’re doing hits you a moment later, and you quickly stand up, only for the world to spin and your knees to buckle.
Mihawk catches you easily. “You've lost a lot of blood.”
“It'll refill,” you mumble.
“In time. You need to rest.”
“Alright, alright,” you say. His hold is so secure, you kind of never want him to let go. Damn, you have lost a lot of blood. “I owe you for this, Mihawk. Somehow I'll pay you back.”
“How about dinner?” he asks, and you’re so caught off-guard that you stare owlishly.
“H-Hey, come on, now,” you say, but Mihawk has never really been one to joke. There's a crack in your confident demeanor. “Serious?”
“Serious.” He takes your hand, raising it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles.
Rosinante
“It’s not a fucking show,” you snap at the crew, crowded around where you are in the med bay of the Numenca Flamingo. Doflamingo is bent over the wound in your side, a string attaching his finger to the bullet still inside. Corazon holds your body down.
“You gonna scream?” Diamante teases cruelly, but you roll your eyes.
“You’d like that, huh, you sick–FUCK!” you shriek at the end as Doflamingo yanks out the bullet, body jerking against Corazon's iron grip. Diamante and Trebol both chuckle like the bastards they are, but Doflamingo waves them and the rest away as he moves in to disinfect the area.
You shiver, fighting not to tear up in front of the two of them. It is of the utmost importance not to show weakness around Doflamingo. After years of dedication and rigorous work, you’ve clawed your way into a promotion from a top Donquixote Pirate to one of the people in his Family.
It’s imperative, as an undercover Marine, that you don’t lose this chance. Your job is to support Corazon. You’d rather not cry in front of him, either, but that’s more about pride than anything else.
Doflamingo traces your hip as he finishes sewing you up with his string. “Buffalo said you took the bullet for Baby 5.”
You stiffen at his touch, an oddly soft contrast to the string that nonetheless makes you ill at ease. “Yes, Young Master.” Are you in trouble? You don’t want to act soft, but you couldn’t stand by and let a child get shot, either.
“I see,” he says, and you hold your breath. “I’d expect no less from someone I hand-picked.”
He pats your head once, then leaves the room, and relief courses through your veins alongside the adrenaline.
Corazon gives you a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t speak to you, of course–too risky. His voice is a distant memory at this point, all the way from back when you were in training together.
A few uneventful days pass as the crew sails back to base with their spoils. The pain in your side seems to spread to right below your gut, intensifying as it goes. The wound area isn’t red or swollen, so you realize you must have gotten your period on top of everything. Great.
You’re the unlucky type that suffers from hellish, unpredictable menstruation, the pain often debilitating enough to put you out of commission until it abates. It was easier to cover up back in the Marines, feigning illness, but you wouldn’t be granted such liberties in the pirate world. You've had to fight through the agony to keep up your appearance as a tough-as-nails pirate commander. It seemed you were being tested again, as now you had to resist while under watch of the Family.
The cramps continue to get worse by the day until you’re nauseated from the pain. You end up vomiting over the side of the ship more than once, which you claim is from eating bad food. You try everything to take your focus off the pain. Meditation, breathing exercises. But for some reason, it just keeps getting worse. There’s one day where it seems to slightly abate, and you go to bed believing you’re past the worst of it, only to wake up the next day in complete, room-spinning agony. Moving makes it worse, every time you go to the bathroom or help with the ship tasks it feels like you might pass out. You can’t get comfortable no matter which position you lay in, and you sweat like crazy even though it’s cold.
You’re shaky while you help haul in ropes, thoughts so consumed by how terrible you feel that you jump when Corazon taps your shoulder. He scribbles something on his notepad, then shows it to you.
‘You look like shit.’
“That obvious?” you ask, even as your guts and head both swim in a thick fog of pain. Corazon scribbles some more.
‘Your pain tolerance is high. This is unusual for you.’
“It’ll pass,” you respond, turning away from him. He starts writing letters on your back, something he does to make absolutely sure no one can read your conversation later through his notepad.
‘Worried.’
The guilt eats at you before he can even finish writing it. As Doflamingo’s right hand, Corazon has himself to worry about. You’re supposed to make his job easier, not be dead weight. So even though this is the worst it’s ever been, even though you just want to cry at how much it hurts, you steel yourself. You can’t crumble now. “I’ll be okay, Cora,” you dismiss.
Law stands at the foot of your hammock that night as you writhe, a curious Baby 5 next to him.
“What do you want, Law,” you grit out.
“List your primary symptoms,” Law says. You glance at him to see he’s holding a notepad and pencil. “Also, you should let me look at how your wound’s healing.”
“I don’t need the opinion of an eight year old,” you spit, the pain making you lash out. You’ve already looked at your wound, you’ve dealt with many in the past, and the area around your incision looks fine.
Law clenches his fists, irritated. “You’re being a real bitch.”
Baby 5 gasps. Law shoots her a glare that makes her whimper and hide behind your hammock. He mutters to himself as he storms out.
“Why don’t you tell someone if you’re feeling bad?” Baby 5 asks timidly once Law’s gone.
“Because,” you say, taking a deep breath to try to focus on getting the words out. “I don’t have a devil fruit. My haki abilities are rudimentary. I can’t fall behind, Baby 5. I want to be useful to the Young Master.”
“I don’t understand.”
“One day you’ll get cramps, and hopefully they won’t be this bad. But when it happens, you have to be tough and not let anyone know. It’s looked down upon by those who don’t get them. You’ll be left behind…”
“That’s gonna happen to me?” Baby 5 looks worried.
You try to reassure her that since she’s handled everything the adults have thrown at her thus far, she’ll be fine. Baby 5 doesn’t look convinced, but you don’t have it in you to care right then.
By the next day the pain is so searingly, blindingly intense that no amount of willpower can overcome it. You’re woken up by it, and this time it’s unmatched by all the previous days combined. It feels like someone’s poured molten lava into your guts. It feels like your organs are being ripped out of your body. Pressing a pillow into your gut gives you a fraction of relief, but even the slightest relief is like heaven when the pain is that bad–until you’re ripped back down, not to earth, but to hell, and it’s agony all over again.
Somehow, you manage to get out of your hammock, only to end up on your knees on the floor, holding your stomach and making pitiful noises.
Distantly, you get the sensation that Corazon is writing words on your back, but you’re so out of it that you can’t parse them.
“Need help,” you whimper, voice breaking.
Corazon sends someone to get Doflamingo, who has Law assess you. After taking your vitals and pressing on your abdomen (you’ve never considered killing a child before, but it hurts so bad that you scream) Law declares you need to be hospitalized immediately, and also says he told you so just to rub salt in the wound.
It’s a miracle that there’s an island within a few hour’s sail. You don’t remember those hours very well. It’s in and out, coming and going with the waves of pain. All you remember is Corazon, staying by your side the entire time. He keeps the crueler Family members away from you, lets you squeeze his hand for comfort, holds your hair back when you throw up. When you make it to the island, he’s the one to carry you to the hospital.
You get palpated again by the hospital doctors (your own special hell) while Corazon holds your hand, get scanned by a machine, and finally diagnosed with a severe infection that’s gone septic. Post-surgery finally has you in relief, doped up on painkillers, but very, very weak.
Recovery is its own trial. Combined with the strength of the painkillers, plus your body fighting off the infection, you see things when you close your eyes. You’re not sure if members of the Family come to visit you, or if you’re imagining they were there. The only constant is Corazon.
You wake up one night to see him hunched over in a too-small chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even half-awake, you get the sudden sense that he’s trying not to cry. He probably wouldn’t want to see you like that, and you’re so, so tired still, so you go back to sleep.
You dream that he speaks to you. Perhaps it’s a memory, but when you wake up, you see his silhouette in the door.
“Cora?” You smile, lifting your head, but your smile dies when you see Doflamingo stepping inside.
“Young Master,” you say weakly. Why is he visiting you alone? What could he possibly want, aside from telling you that you were demoted?
“Baby 5 was inconsolable,” he starts, sauntering up to your bed. “Someone told her she’d suffer the same condition that you did. Then she said something strange...” He trails a hand on the railing of your bed as he walks up to your side, looming over you. “She begged us not to abandon her.” You feel your blood run cold as Doflamingo grins. “What a silly notion.”
You open your mouth to speak, but can’t find the words. He reaches out a hand to brush back your hair and cup your cheek. It takes everything in you not to flinch away.
“Could it be, perhaps, you thought I’d abandon you, Y/n?” he asks, your daunted face reflected crimson in his sunglasses.
Swallowing, you nod, and he grips your chin harshly.
“In your concern, you almost got yourself killed,” he says. “I selected you to join me for a reason. You're no good to me dead. Do you understand?”
You nod quickly, and after another terrifying moment where he stares into your eyes–maybe your soul–he finally leaves.
Corazon writes furiously later, berating you for being so dismissive of your own condition.
‘You were on death’s door! Your CRP was over 200!’
“How much is it supposed to be?”
‘Zero! Fool!!’
You apologize endlessly, and more so as he helps you recover, until he gets sick of your apologies, too–but when he takes your hand, his gaze is soft.
From here on out, no more suffering alone, he writes into your palm, we fight together.
He holds your hand in both of his larger ones and, doing a quick check to make sure you’re still alone, brushes his lips against the tips of your fingers.
Suddenly you understand just how much he’s longed not to fight alone in his mission, and how important it is for you to be there. You bow your head, pull his hands so they’re at your chest, and kiss the back of one. “I understand.”
Blackbeard
Comparatively, you are the better in sheer physical strength to your opponent, but the other pirate outspeeds you. You fail to dodge back far enough from the downward stab of his dagger, and it sinks into the meat of your thigh.
You snarl in pain while he roars in triumph. His roar gets cut off as you suddenly grab his throat.
“Insect!” you snarl as you squeeze hard, grinding his windpipe to his spine. He flails, making horrid choking noises and digging his nails into your hand. There’s a brief struggle where he tries to reach the dagger in your thigh, but you grab his wrist before he can and, with a surge of armament haki, snap it in your grip. He can’t even cry out like this, just writhes around like mad, and you wait a few more seconds before the blood flow is cut off to his brain for too long, and he goes limp.
The rest of the crew watches from the seats of the bar as you snap his neck sharply before letting him drop. The other patrons of the seedy bar cheer, and cash is begrudgingly exchanged while you hobble back to the Blackbeard Pirates. Doc Q starts to look over your leg as you lean against the bar.
“Thirty seconds,” Lafitte says, looking at his pocket watch, “you said it would take you ten.”
“Shut the fuck up, Lafitte,” you warn. The pain wracking through your leg gives you no patience for his snide commentary. “Or I’ll choke you out next.”
“Promise?”
In an instant, you yank the knife out of your thigh and stab it into Lafitte’s so deep it’s almost at the hilt. He screams while Doc Q yells at you, “Don’t pull out the knife–!”
“They fucking stabbed me!” Lafitte shrieks as Blackbeard, Burgess and Auger burst out into laughter.
“I missed your femoral on purpose,” you grumble. “Next time I won’t.”
Doc Q rushes to stem the bleeding from your thigh, and you cross your arms, trying to quell your temper. Because the Doc has to sew you up first, Lafitte will have to wait a while with that dagger sunken into his leg. It’s a fitting punishment, but you still kind of want to kill him.
Blackbeard, wearing his shitty grin, drapes his arm around your shoulders. You throw him a warning look that he ignores, as usual. Most times he does this, you push his arm away and otherwise reject him to his face. This is one of the rare times you don't. You’re still in a lot of pain, and there’s pretty much nowhere else–no one else��on this planet that you could get a comforting touch from. You let him hold you to his side, if only to abate the burning of your injury, and ever so slightly, you feel your rage boil down to a simmer.
“Better, trinket?” Blackbeard asks you, smirking.
“No,” you lie.
#one piece imagines#one piece x reader#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#rosinante x reader#mihawk x reader#shanks x reader#x reader#blackbeard x reader#marshall d teach x reader#zen writes
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So Sorry [LS2]
Part two to Reunited
Summary: Logan and Oscar accidentally spill the secret. Logan thinks into your future together.
Pairring/s: Logan Sargeant x reader, Logan Sargreant x Oscar Piastri (platonic), Alex Albon x reader (platonic), Lily Muni He x reader (platonic)
Word Count: 1.2k
Masterlist
Logan Sargeant Masterlist
Coming Soon
Tag List
Having followed Logan around the world for a little while, Logan was feeling more comfortable travelling because you and Aurora were with him. He was performing better than expected with the equipment that he had been given.
Logan was sitting in his drivers room on the floor with Aurora sitting in front of him as he played with her on her little play mat. This was the last race before the summer break where Logan was going to go back to London but start looking for a family house so you could all stay there.
Auroras little giggles filled his driver's room as there was a knock on the door, and Oscar walked in with a smile
“There’s my girl” He smiled, sitting on the floor next to Logan. Rolling your eyes while taking a picture of them. Logan still hadn’t told the world about you or Aurora, not that you minded because you got to keep your privacy and Aurora's, although you knew it would come soon enough.
However, you hadn’t expected some camera’s to overhear him and Oscar during the press conference you were currently sitting watching.
“What are you planning on getting Y/N?” Oscar asked both with the microphones on their laps as they spoke to each other
“I’m not sure. She doesn’t know what she wants either” He shrugged, and Oscar groaned
“What am I meant to buy her then? Maybe like a canvas of you, her and Aurora?” He asked, and Logan nodded
“I guess that’s an option. I was thinking of a little family holiday” Logan answered
“Ohh that’s a good idea. Maybe I could get her a puppy?” Oscar joked, and Logan laughed
“She wants one, but with Aurora still not being that old, it makes it hard. Especially because she’s not at uni anymore, and she’s following me around the world” He chuckled, and Oscar joined in. The interviewer called on Logan to answer a question about the car
Back in Logan’s driving room you were attempting to get Aurora to have a nap although she had grown into the habit of getting fed from you and cuddling Logan until she fell asleep so she got the best of both parents. Gently bouncing around Logan’s drivers room as you hoped that his interview was almost over
“Come on baby girl please go to sleep” You whispered with a sigh as her cries picked up attempting to think about the next best thing to Logan you opened his driver room door and took the two steps across the corridor knocking on Alex’s door.
Alex pulled the door open with a smile. Lily sat on his couch, smiling over
“Y/N is everything okay?” Alex asked as you shook your head
“Aurora’s got in the habit of Logan holding her until she gets to sleep, and he’s doing the interviews. So is Oscar. You’re the next best thing. Will you hold her?” You asked, biting your lip, hoping that he’d be okay with the request
“Baby cuddles? Who’d ever say no to that?” He asked carefully, taking her from your arms.
“How does Logan normally hold her?” He asked, and you gently moved her within his arms so she was now being held in the normal sleeping position.
“Come take a seat lovely” Lily smiled, tapping the space next to her on Alex’s couch. You looked to Alex to ensure it was okay. Alex nodded with a smile. You didn’t want to intrude on his personal space when you’d already asked him to hold your child.
Sitting down next to Lily as she took pictures of Alex
“I want one” She whined, and you laughed
“Feel free to take mine for a couple of days. You’ll change your mind instantly” You chuckled
“Oh but she’s so cute. She could never do any wrong” You smiled
“She looks so much like Logan as a baby, which makes me a little sad because Logan used to be exactly like her then coming into F1. It changed him. This team has changed him and everytime I see James I want to punch him because I miss the old Logan and deep down I know he’s still there but the way James is treating him makes the old him hide” You sighed and both Lily and Alex nodded
“I agree, and even if I bring it up in meetings, then I get shot down. I don’t understand why they’re treating him like this. If they didn’t want him for the season, then they shouldn’t have signed him again” Alex sighed as you watched Aurora’s eyes flutter shut in Alex’s arms. Lily wrapped her arm around your shoulder, gently rubbing your arm to comfort you.
“He’ll find his team Y/N. He’s still got years ahead of him, and maybe this break is what you need as a family” She smiled, and you nodded. There was a knock on the door as Logan peaked his head around the door
“Alex. You seen” He paused mid sentence as he spotted you
“Found you” He smiled, walking into the room.
“Hey. Aurora wouldn’t sleep because you or Oscar weren’t there, so I came to the next best place” Logan leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips with a smile you looked up at him
“So we’re trending on twitter” You pressed your lips together as his eyes widened
“What? How?” He asked
“Your microphones picked up your conversation with Oscar. I would very much like a family holiday thanks” You hummed as he stood back up
“Shit babe. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise the microphones were that sensitive even that far away. Shit. I’m so sorry, babe. What can I do to make it up to you? I’m so sorry” He rambled, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. Standing up, you walked over to him.
His arms pulled you into his chest as he sighed, still repeating that he was sorry as he whispered into your ear.
“How can you make it up to me?” You teased pretending to think about it
“Apart from that holiday you mentioned. Maybe a dog?” You teased, and he shook his head
“We’re not getting a dog. I’m sorry. I know you want one, but we don’t have the time or space” He sighed, and you nodded
“I know. I’m just teasing you, love. I don’t mind. I’m kinda glad no one knows everything, but it’s still out in the world” You shrugged, and he nodded
“Yeah that makes sense” He smiled, taking Aurora from Alex.
“I’m gonna take my girls back to my room” You smiled, thanking Alex before walking back to Logan’s room with him. Sitting on the couch, you pulled your legs up to your chest, watching Logan with a wide smile
“So obviously we’re getting married during this break. However, I was thinking about our future. Like very far into the future” You nodded, listening to him
“I want another child. Maybe within the next year or so. Aurora will be one very soon. We’ll be married, and at least if I don’t continue in F1, then I’ve got a family there. My second dream that’s kinda more real at the moment” He explained, and you nodded
“I think having another baby is a brilliant idea, although maybe two years? I’m still kinda recovering from having Aurora” You hummed, and he nodded
“That sounds good to me” He smiled, pressing your lips together.
Tag List
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#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#logan sargent x reader#logan seargent#logan sergeant x reader#ls2 fluff#ls2 fic#ls2 imagine#ls2 x reader#ls2#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula one x you#oscar piastri x logan sargeant#alex albon x you#alexander albon x reader#alex albon x reader#alexander albon#alex albon#aa23 x y/n#aa23 x you#aa23 x reader
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Cat-hybrid!boyfriend x reader - dub-con, cunnilingus, exhibitionism kink, overstimulation
Your cat-hybrid boyfriend has been patiently waiting for you to finish working at your computer for long interminable hours. He even stayed outside your room so to not distract you as you focused on the screen and discussed with your coworkers. He's been such a good boy, only meowing a couple times but getting shushed by your warning looks. He's not really known for being a good boy though and after so many hours (only three, although three to many for him), his patience has definitely reached its limit.
He doesn't care if you're on a video call right now, he doesn't let your pointed glares stop him anymore from entering your room, his long fluffy tail sinuously swaying side to side as he moves towards you, slipping under your desk and starting to purr against your legs. He smirks when he hears you apologizing to your coworkers for the loud noises they hear. "It's just my cat, don't mind it."
Don't mind it, huh? Let's see if you're able to 'not mind it' once he starts to nibble on your calves and pawing at your socks with his claws drawn. You try to kick him away but instead only spur him on, his yellow eyes narrowing and his claws playfully scratching your skin. He hears you curse under your breath and attempt to move away but he knows you're stuck there, you can't make a scene in front of your colleagues... He can't help but take advantage of that. You tortured him by making him wait for so long? It's only fair now if he tortures you back.
His clawed paws push your thighs apart and he settles between them, preventing you from squeezing them closed. A gasp escapes you, one you quickly muffle with your hand as you try to play it cool in front of the oblivious audience, but it gets harder to keep quiet as he gropes your panties-clad mound and leans his face in to purr against the thin fabric. He knows how much you love it, how much you enjoy feeling the vibrations moving from your pussy to your belly, making your whole body tingle in pleasure. He glances up at you from below the desk just to see your face flushing and your eyelashes flutter.
Maybe your coworkers can't see the signs, but he does, he knows you're getting aroused. He can feel it too against his nose, a wet spot forming in the middle of your panties. He can't help but lick it, taking pleasure in the way your thighs quiver under his paws. He's curious to see how much you're gonna take. How long you're going to last before you call it quits, shut the computer and focus solely on him. That's what he hopes you'll do... But he's baffled by your determination as you try to keep your cool even when he pulls your panties aside and slips his tongue inside your folds.
That's how you wanna play it? Very well.
His paws push on the soft flesh of your thighs spreading them even wider, causing your chair to creak as it gets pushed back a little from the force of his movements. Your wide eyes glance briefly down at him, a pleading look in your gaze... What are you pleading for? For him to pull you out of your misery and make you cum hard on his tongue? That he can do.
With his yellow eyes trained on you he starts to eat you out like a starved stray, licking and suckling and biting, leaving no spot untouched and letting no drop of your leaking juices get wasted. He's actually proud of how well you manage to keep your composure in front of the screen despite his feral ministrations. Perhaps he's going too easy on you? Or perhaps your coworkers don't really pay you any attention... Poor baby. But that doesn’t matter, does it? You've got his whole attention after all. And he's got yours as well.
Your thighs start to shake just as your fingers tangle in the fur on his head. You're so close, he can feel it, your gummy walls throb so hard around his tongue... That's why he stops. The shocked gasp that leaves your lips is so loud that everyone on the call stops to talk. A coworker asks you if you're alright and you tug at the fur on his head out of frustration as you muster the fakest smile he's seen grazing your face and answer, "sorry, my cat is so hungry that he's mistaken my leg for a piece of meat", followed by the stupidest giggle he's ever heard escaping your lips. However, apparently, that's enough for your dumb colleagues to laugh it all off.
He's grinning, oh he's grinning like the damned Cheshire cat as you excuse yourself, saying you'll be back in a minute after you feed him, and fumble with the mouse to shut off your webcam and your speakers.
Oh, feed him you will!
He buries his face back in your swollen cunt before you have time to take your hand off the mouse, a lewd moan falling from your lips, this time free to echo through your quiet room. He's got you back on the verge in no time, his furry arms wrapping around your thighs, pulling you flush against his face and almost making you fall ass first to the ground. You have to support yourself onto the edge of your desk, your body spasming violently and head rolling back as you cum on his tongue. He keeps on licking you through your orgasm, sucking every drop of your sweet juices until you're so overstimulated that you can't keep still for one second. He's chuckling at his point, yellow eyes crinkling in both amusement and adoration, his arms leaving your thighs to wrap around your waist, his tail curling around your ankle, while his head rests on your shivering mound.
Now he knows what to do the next time you ignore him for too long due to work. Maybe next time he'll make you cum right in front of your colleagues, to show them just how well-fed your cat is.
🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me
#monsters#exophilia#monster love#monster fucker#monster lover#monster x human#monster kink#teratophillia#terato#monster boyfriend#werecat#cat hybrid#werecat x reader#werecat x human#Cat hybrid x reader#Cat hybrid x human#hybrid monster#monster smut#monster x reader#tw monsterfucking#monster scenario#monster imagine#terato x reader#terat0philliac#teratosnack
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Hiii saw u were open for reqs :)) if its okay can i request the jjk students (toge and maybe yuta if possible) and something about how they act around reader when they started having a crush on them but reader doesnt know >< huhu tysm i hope this is interesting for you, have a good day!! <3
of course babe!! i also threw yuuji in there because i just love that boy 😩
yuuji:
•he makes it so obvious he has a crush on you, it’s pretty much impossible to not know. he isn’t quiet at all about his adoration for you, and loves to show and tell you just how much he cares!
•this boy is constantly complimenting you! whether to your face or to his friends, he thinks you have zero flaws and could brag about you all day long!
•you’re his official movie partner! he loves to take you out to the theater to watch his favorite classics, and always treats you to food afterwards as a thank you for spending time with him!
•he would definitely confess to you himself (that’s if you didn’t hear it through the grapevine already, since he’s already told everyone how much he adores you), and he would keep it simple. he would probably take you out to dinner or on a walk to confess, something simple but still romantic!
yuuta:
•he’s so nervous around you. he is constantly blushing whenever you talk to him, and he gets teased so badly because of it.
•he loves to spend whatever time he can get with you, whether it be in or out of school. struggling with a certain subject? he’s more than happy to help you study! need a sparring partner? he’s already in the field waiting for you! hungry? dinners on him tonight!
•while yuuta thinks you are a great friend and has no doubts you you think of him as a great friend too, he feels stuck in the friendzone with you. no matter how much his friends try to convince him you like him back, he just can’t fully believe them! there’s always something stopping him from confessing to you.
•unless you do something to make it very clear you see him as more than a friend (ex. hold his hand in public, kiss his cheek when telling him goodnight) you’d have to be the one to confess first. he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, and doesn’t want to ruin your friendship, so he just keeps his feelings to himself. once you do confess though, he’s all over you! he just can’t contain his love for you anymore!
toge:
•you guys are definitely a best friends to lovers trope. there’s no doubt about it.
•when toge first realized he liked you, not a lot changed in your guys relationship. you’d still hangout after class, help each other study, play video games, crack jokes to each other. but over time he’d start to become more affection wjth you. small things like resting his head on your knee while gaming with you, or hugging you before you leave his dorm for the night.
•i don’t think it would be very obvious to your guys’ friends that he liked you. in public he would still just act like your best friend, it was behind closed doors he’d be extra affectionate with you.
•since he can’t speak himself, he loves to hear you talk! he is always encouraging you to talk about anything to him, whether it be something personal or just reading a book to him. he loves it so much.
•i think after awhile if you didn’t get the hint after all his extra affections, he’d confess to you in a very casual way. probably jut while playing video games together in his room, he’d randomly tell you how he feels and wait for you to either reject him or share the feelings. either way he’d still want to be your best friend!
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk yuuji#yuuji x reader#itadori x reader#itadori fluff#yuuta x reader#yuuta fluff#toge x reader#inumaki x reader#inumaki fluff
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Happiness, you’re a cat
A HS AU one-shot inspired by @alienoresimagines 's post
I'll probably post this on AO3 tomorrow. Edit: posted on AO3
1.
Bucky hates hospitals. The sterile smell, all the sick and dying people, back-breaking waiting room chairs. Thankfully, he has never had to stay in one overnight, but he did hit his head in a goal post once when he was ten, and his mom spent hours in the ER with him to get his concussion looked at. It was just after his dad left. What a miserable fucking time.
Unsurprisingly, he isn't keen to go back there anytime soon.
He feels like he might have to though, because at the rate things are going, they’re gonna have to amputate his right arm. A few months ago, Brady showed him a gory Reddit thread about a guy who, apparently, fell asleep in the lotus pose and his legs got so fucking wrecked that they had to cut them off. The pose restricted his blood flow or something and they couldn't restore it. He can’t remember how long the man was contorted like that. What's the point of no return?
His elementary school teacher used to tell his mom that Bucky would do crazy things for the people he liked. Well, she must have been right because Bucky's going to risk his arm just to let Gale sleep for an hour longer.
Gale. Gale, Gale, Gale.
Bucky's heart skips a beat every time he lets himself stop for a moment and think about things. Happiness floods his chest and makes his limbs thrum with excited energy. Three of them. His right arm is currently fighting for its life, crushed under Gale’s curled up body. But he puts the pins and needles out of his mind and concentrates on the positives.
Gale has been his boyfriend for a whole month now. A month! Bucky's longest relationship so far lasted three. He doesn’t let himself think about the fact that this means that they may be past one third of their time together. He can’t think about that or he’ll get anxious. Who knows, perhaps they'll stay together forever. It was their one-month anniversary today - Gale said it was stupid to call it anniversary because the word literally comes from "year" in Latin, but he did accept Bucky's invitation to watch a movie with him in Bucky's room.
Since Gale is a total movie nerd, Bucky was looking forward to showing him Moneyball, but Gale pillowed his head on Bucky’s chest and fell asleep ten minutes in. The movie is at two thirds now, and Bucky's arm is on fire from being pinned so long.
He doesn’t care.
He turns his head to look at Gale the best he can, and he knows that all the pain is worth it a thousand times over. So close that his eyes can’t focus, he sees the slope of Gale's nose, his long, pale eyelashes and the soft, parted lips he spent an hour kissing yesterday. Bucky has never had anyone sleep on him before. It’s the most amazing, comforting feeling he has ever experienced. They breathe together. Gale's body is warm against his, and his arm draped across Bucky's torso fills Bucky's stomach with butterflies. God, he wants to reach out and stroke it. There are small moles sprinkled on it. There’s one on the heel of Gale's palm, and he’s aching to pull it to his mouth and kiss it.
Ah, why is he such a loser? Gale is right here in his arms, in his bed, and he’s still in pain because he wants more and he knows it's too much and his crush is so bad, so... ugh, it's fucking embarrassing. Bucky flushes hot and cold, then hot again. Happy in his misery.
He'd feel it if his arm was beyond saving, wouldn’t he? Or, technically, he wouldn’t feel it. That would be the sign, he thinks. Prickling pain is good.
Gale told him he had trouble sleeping lately. What's a better anniversary present than letting him rest as long as he needs it?
It's a bigger problem that Bucky can’t pay attention to the movie anymore. His senses are entirely consumed by Gale. The weight of him. His blond hair. His smell. Bucky takes a deeper breath, trying to memorize it. If it clings to his clothes, he’s gonna hide them from his mom and sleep with them tonight. Gale is like an angel in his sleep, and he just wants to - to squeeze him tight and never let him go. Man, he needs help...
Unable to resist any longer, he raises his - still alive - left hand and brushes Gale's right with a fingertip. When Gale’s breathing doesn’t change, Bucky smiles to himself and starts tracing the lines of Gale's bones with his index finger, then the divots of his wrist. He draws a J over the back of Gale's hand, then a heart. He’s just about to start a G when the skin shifts under his touch, and Gale’s inhale hitches.
The moment Gale's consciousness returns, he shoots up into a sitting position, lifting all the weight that has been crushing Bucky's arm at once. Bucky whines and sobs dramatically in pain, so much so, that after a moment, Gale starts snickering.
"What are you doing?"
"Pins and needles." Bucky gasps and sits up too, shaking his arm desperately.
Gale rubs his forehead like some middle-aged dad looking at his dumbass kid. Bucky grins in return. He doesn’t know why but he enjoys this. The sight of his smile makes Gale laugh again. His chin-length hair is flat on the side that rested on Bucky’s chest, and there's a blush creeping up his neck.
"Sorry for falling asleep." He says. Bucky can’t look away from the blue of his eyes. He’s hypnotized.
"You can always sleep here."
Gale casts his gaze down, then glances back up, a little shy. "Thanks, Bucky."
"I would've let them amputate it for you." Bucky tells him, holding out his arm.
Gale gives him a look of pained amusement. "Do I even want to know what you're talking about?"
"Brady showed me this thread -" Bucky launches into the story, happy to be able to talk to Gale again after more than an hour of silence. Gale listens to him attentively, and when he slips his hand into Bucky's, Bucky's suddenly aware that none of the nerves died in his palm. They're very much alive and pump giddiness into his veins. Moneyball draws to a climax in the background, forgotten.
~~~
2.
It's 4 p.m., and the bright-hot light of the sun blasts Bucky's face through the window of their apartment. He’s lying on his back in their bed, and Gale is asleep in his embrace, his head resting on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky's arm tingles with pinprickles of pain. Volume so low it's almost muted, a movie drones on in their TV.
It's Moneyball again.
The irony isn’t lost on Bucky. Every single time he tried to watch this thing with Gale in the six years they’ve been together, Gale fell asleep. Every. Single. Time. He’s starting to think it’s some sort of message he's supposed to understand. John, stop making me watch baseball films and footage. Or, John, I have a Pavlovian reflex to nod off as soon as I hear the word baseball. He can hear these things in Gale's voice, although Gale would never say them, only Bucky would if he did an impression of Gale. It would make Gale laugh, so Bucky grins up at the ceiling just imagining it.
Fuck, his arm hurts like a bitch. And the sun feels like fingers made of light trying to pry his eyes open. His t-shirt is growing damp with sweat at the collar. Over his head, with some effort, he manages to grab Gale's actual pillow, the one Gale discarded in favour of Bucky's chest. Bucky puts it on his own face to block out the light and tries to fall asleep too.
This exam period has been a real clusterfuck. He was on coffee 24/7, would have walked around with an IV drip of the stuff if he could, just to push through. Gale simply reverted to his antisocial insomniac persona, and they decided by mutual silent agreement not to even try to touch each other until it was over.
It's done and dealt with now. Grades added in their college accounts, pat on the head received gracefully by Gale for being the only one who passed Applied Nuclear Physics on the first try. Obligatory Let's get wasted! party attended two days ago, call with Mom suffered through hungover yesterday. Now, there's nothing else on Bucky’s agenda but sleep for 48 hours straight. And making Gale watch Moneyball.
He's gonna make him do it before they get married, he swears.
Gale is so tired that he’s sleeping with his mouth open. Bucky can tell. It doesn’t take a genius, given the suspicious damp spot he feels on his shirt. He doesn’t mind a bit of drool. Or a lot. He’s gonna let Gale sleep as long as he needs.
But by God, his arm feels like it’s gonna skip the whole amputation step and just fall right off. He yawns against the pillow on his face and tries to take his mind off it.
He can smell Gale's scent on the fabric, he notes happily. Gale's left leg is tangled with his own, Gale's once icy foot tucked against his calf, now warmed by Bucky's heat. You have the coldest feet in the whole fucking galaxy, he informed Gale a few weeks ago, sitting on the couch with Gale's legs on his lap. Gale just pressed one of those feet to the tender skin of Bucky’s inner thigh, half inside his shorts, and told Bucky to guess the size of the Milky Way or lose a piece of clothing.
There's a reason why Bucky isn't the one planning to be an Astrophysicist...
He wonders what it’s going to be like once they graduate. His heart skips a beat. Does Gale hope for the same things he does? They've talked about marriage in the abstract, playing around with the fantasy of it for a bit, but it's not a fantasy anymore. It’s within reach, Bucky can feel it. And that suddenly makes his hopes so much harder to share - he’s scared of losing them all on a mistake.
But now that their exams are done, it can occupy all his thoughts again.
It's time. Anticipation thrums through his bones. He has been aching for it long enough. He’s got the ring. All he needs to do is ask.
Drifting between daydreams and reality, he reaches for Gale’s hand on his abdomen. He traces his knuckles with his thumb and lingers on his bare ring finger, lost in thought.
When Gale pulls in a sharper breath, he shifts his touch to Gale's wrist.
Gale groans and lifts his head away from the wet spot on Bucky’s shirt. Blood flows rapidly back to Bucky's arm and makes him grunt in pain. He tries to shake the pins and needles out of his limb, while Gale just climbs over him like some lazy cat and collapses on his other side. He takes up the same pose he had before, just mirrored, but upon noticing the pillow on Bucky’s head, he nuzzles his way closer until both of their faces are covered by it. They're pressed so close together that the tip of Bucky's nose brushes Gale's cheek.
"We've blinds." He mumbles.
Gale hums and falls back asleep. Bucky’s arm lies squished under him. Moneyball stays on until the end credits roll down.
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Aventurine would like to say that stepping out of the IPC building for the last time is like a breath of fresh air, but instead it just feels like a slap in the chest. It makes him breathless and his chest tight. His shirt wraps around his waist too tightly; he can feel the way his pants hang on his hips, digging into the side of them. The world around him is blurry, and the sounds all too loud.
“Well now, dear Gambler, what are you going to do now?” Ratio’s voice cuts through the world like a sharp, static-y knife. The rest of the world withers away as Ratio steps in front of Aventurine, his head slightly tilted. “What’s your plan now that you have been freed from the IPC?”
Aventurine brings in a shaky breath — one that Ratio hopefully doesn’t notice but knowing him he does. “I suppose I'll have to find my way in the world without them. A place to live is probably a good start, wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?” The IPC had owned everything that had ever “belonged” to Aventurine after all — the only thing he had left to his name was a bank account with a hefty sum left in it. It’ll last him for a while, thankfully, but it won’t last forever.
Ratio’s eyes furrow. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t have lodgings anymore?”
“I lived in the IPC building, Ratio. Can’t exactly live there anymore if I’m no longer working for them,” Aventurine explains with a shrug. So he’ll have to find a place to live, that surely can’t be too hard. He’ll just have to hang out in hotels until then. With how impulsive this break away had been, Aventurine certainly hadn’t gone out looking for places beforehand.
“Live with me,” Ratio all but blurts out suddenly — it sounds nearly more like a demand than a suggestion. The usually stoic doctor covers his mouth with his hand as he clears his throat. “I have a spare room in my apartment that I do not use. You are welcome to use it if you wish until you are able to find your own place.”
“Oh?” Aventurine laughs with a shake of his head. “And here I would have thought you would never want to see me again after this. Are you saying you want to live with little old me, Doctor?” Ratio only scowls at him in answer — and Aventurine knows that it's used to tell him that he’s wrong in that regard. “Thank you,” Aventurine breathes out, and he knows that it’s more than just for the offer to stay at his place. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, if you don’t mind.”
“I would not have offered if I had minded, Aventurine. If you are free now, I’ll show you the way and grab you a spare key.” Ratio begins to walk, only getting a few steps before he stops and turns back around to Aventurine. “You do not mind cats, do you? Or, cat adjacent creatures, at the very least.”
Aventurine lets out a true laugh — not a forced one that he feels he needs to continue his act, and he finds that it feels good to laugh like that. He decides that he’ll try to do it more often. “Animals love me, Doctor, you should know that by now.” They tend to flock to him — he thinks it's because he usually runs warm and they treat him like a heater.
Ratio lets out his own rare laugh. “I suppose they do, don’t they?” He shakes his head. “Come along then, Gambler. We best be going.”
Aventurine smiles. “Lead the way, Doctor.”
here, have the first 600 words of my latest wip. it's totally not a present to you guys because i got 2k into it and then scrapped it all since i thought it worked better another way lmao
#caiffee's wips#ratiorine#aventio#this is from the flower shop/hanahaki au i was talking about in a reblog lmao#how does aventurine leave the IPC? i have no clue but he does#it was an impulsive decision that everyone was like “yeah okay sure go ahead” to#dont question it too much this is literally just so i can write them being cute
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sometime during season 2 merlin realizes how dense camelot is. he’s been accused and even confessed to sorcery multiple times and no one has believed him. even when aredian accused him of sorcery, uther was hesitant to execute him. UTHER was HESITANT to execute him after being accused of SORCERY. merlin gets accused of sorcery bc people think he’s put them under a love spell. he’s gone to arthur at the darkest of times and whispered how he could perform a spell to save everyone and arthur bites back that its not the time for jokes.
merlin realizing how stupid everyone is. he tests it a few times: he gives gwen a bouquet of flowers and tells her he conjured them with magic, she just laughs and thanks him for the flowers, mumbling about how funny and ridiculous he is; he joins the servants in their ranting over their jobs and says that he has a trick up his sleeve to complete his job…magic!! they ohh and ahh sarcastically and mutter how much easier their jobs would be if any of them actually could do magic; he tells leon straight up that he’s planning on killing uther with magic, leon just laughs, pats his back, and wishes him luck.
the whole city is so fucking stupid!!! merlin tests his luck farther and blatantly commits acts of magic in front of people and they’re just like “:o how odd…oh well” and go about their day. someone comments on merlin’s eyes going gold and he’s just like “mmmmyeah my eyes just do that in the sun sometimes” and NO ONE questions it. he notices how people go out of their way to help him and they slip him things for free or just as gifts. he notices how much he gets away with with arthur and morgana and even uther. merlin spills a bit of wine and uther goes “i will never understand why my son insists on keeping you around” and merlin smirks and goes “i put a spell on him” and uther throws his head back in laughter
merlin doesn’t perform obvious acts of magic, he doesn’t yell out in the old tongue in front of anyone or whatever, but he gets away with magic so much and he knows that no one will ever truly suspect him or accuse him anymore (and if he is accused then it wont go anywhere, uther will just roll his eyes and wave away the accusation) so he just stops giving a fuck. he ends up helping morgana with her magic and is like “yeah this kingdom is so fucking stupid i wouldn’t even worry about it girl”
#bbc merlin#merlin emrys#sorta crack lmao#uther and merlin are like those dads that are insistent they dont want a cat#and then their kids bring home a kitten and they try to hate the cat but end up loving them the most#uther isnt a good dad bc he wont claim morgana and doesnt ever have anything nice to say to arthur#but he also adopts a random man and treats him better than his actual kids#i just think thats funny#uther pendragon#arthur pendragon#morgana pendragon#fanfiction#fanfic#fic ideas#headcanon#head canon#hc#this is so stupid
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Something, Everything
Written for @bucktommyweek DAY 1: Date Night.
“God I hope so,” Tommy says with that smirk he doesn’t bother hiding behind his next sip of wine.
And Buck can’t help matching it with his own.
It quickly transforms into a full-blown smile he can barely keep in check. Or the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to erupt from within – relief that Bobby’s life doesn’t hang in the balance, contentment that for once there’s no emergency to rush to, rapture from carving out a moment for himself in the midst of it all.
There’s something else too. Some awareness he isn’t yet prepared to articulate, laced with an animalistic response in the pit of his belly that has little to do with the fact that he hasn’t touched his food yet.
“You do, don’t you?” He counters, piling more salad onto his plate to control his nerves. Doesn’t draw attention to the fact that his voice comes with a rasp.
Unfazed and impressed at the same time, Tommy arches an eyebrow over the rim of his glass. “It’s a shame to let the food you prepared go to waste,” he says with an affectation of candidness. Then, as a matter of fact, “Otherwise I’d show you.”
Gripping the wooden spoon like a lifeline, Buck almost chokes on empty air.
The words evolve into images in his mind, acquiring a life of their own and shooting straight down below the waistband of his pants. All the blood in his body seems adamant to keep up, and it’s a challenge not to expose his blatant excitement.
“There’s always room for dessert,” he retaliates.
In another scenario, he’d be proud of himself for a comeback, but his mouth is parched and Tommy’s lips are damp with traces of wine, shaping something that gets smothered by the white noise in Buck’s ears. And all he wants right then and there is to kiss Tommy senseless. To drag him upstairs and claim his front row in that auspicious show of naked bodies and not-fully-realised kinks. Or, fuck the bedroom. The table’s likely resilient enough to witness blasphemy or bear the brunt of two men’s carnal escapades.
The spoons slip from his hands as his erection twitches with interest, and he can’t pretend to care for the food anymore.
Buck swallows and blinks the image away. “How hungry are you?” He forces out. Or gasps , rather.
Tommy’s eyes flash with understanding. “Very,” he says, and he’s already disposed of his glass, having started folding his napkin with a look that suggests Buck’s in for a ride of his life.
Pouncing from one emergency to another is his second nature, but he’s never scrambled out of a chair any faster.
It’s not until after midnight that they finally share a plate of cold lasagna while sitting cross-legged side by side on the kitchen floor. There’s the same bottle of wine between them that they take turns drinking from between mouthfuls. The conversation veers from dredging up the past to the tentative plans for the future, and Buck can only imagine the solemn look on Tommy’s face softening in the half-light filtering through the window from the street lamp outside. He doesn’t need to see it to feel every shift resonating inside with the now-familiar pulse of awareness.
In the end, it’s less romantic than Buck has initially planned for their date night.
But with their bellies finally full, the bottle drained and the long day slowly making itself felt, he lets his head fall on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy props his cheek on the top, the hum of his voice a soothing melody.
And as Buck fights the sealing embrace of sleep, he can’t help thinking it’s better .
🔗 also on AO3 🔗
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Blitzø's Eyes in The Full Moon
Overanalysing the last 5 minutes of The Full Moon, Blitzø edition.
We know that Blitzø has massive issues and he mainly deals with them by putting on a facade and keeping his walls up. During the interaction with Stolas in the end there are a few moments where his eyes speak volumes because as hard as he tries, he can’t completely hide his true self and how he feels.
Whenever he is sincere his eyes glow, and when he is scared he shows a little line near his pupils.
The first moment of sincerity is when Stolas takes the book away:
B: Please Stolas, I need this book, please!
He is honest here, I’d say he is worried but… I’ve seen many people saying he is scared of losing his access to the human world and the ability to provide for himself, Loona and M&M, but he actually never mentions his business, he just repeats he needs this book. Twice. So of course the book is crucial for his business survival, but is it all? I don’t think Blitzø here is talking about his job. I think he’s already scared of being rejected by Stolas. For as much as it has been pointed out that he cares deeply for his daughter and employees, I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t mention them or his business here, and also now the man is back on good terms with his friend Fizz and also Asmodeus himself, would it be that hard to get a crystal from them directly? The book is just an excuse IMO.
- Stares in awe - His reaction here is disbelief. He can’t hide how deeply touched he is by Stolas’ gesture.
S: You no longer need my Grimoire
B: Whaaaat?
Then, even if not eye-related, we have the clear tail twitch that betrays his insecurity
B: Because I can always… I can always do better!
Then Stolas reassures him and… he basically confesses his love to Blitzø
S: Blitzø, I’m giving you this because I care very deeply for you, and I have for some time.
Finally fear appears for the first time in Blitzø’s eyes and it’s at this exact moment. The deal is broken and Blitzø can’t use it anymore to hide behind it.
S: You don’t have to stay here with me
Finally, just a few seconds from the disaster, we see, if only just for a moment, Blitzø’s eyes glowing and a thin line near his pupil.
S: Only if you want to
He understands, he knows what Stolas is saying, he knows he is honest and Blitzø is scared of it so he tries to run away, to build his walls back up and the only way he knows is through sex and faking. (let's not talk about what happens next...)
S: …Even if only for a little while.
Blitzø realises he screwed up bad and Stolas shut down completely.
From here he loses his eye glow, but we see fear two more times, here:
B: Wait… what? You were serious??
And here, but I’d say it looks more like terror to me:
S: Goodbye Blitzø.
I have no idea what the point of this extra-long post is, I just needed to do it.
#helluva boss#helluva boss season 2#stolas#blitzø#stolitz#helluva boss theory#helluva boss the full moon
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could you do something with joe based on obsessed by olivia rodrigo?
obsessed. || joe burrow
(this is my first time doing something that’s writing instead of social media, and it’s longer than expected. i hope you enjoy.)
*if i told you how much i think about her, you’d think i was in love. *
I’m not typically an insecure person by any means, but when it comes to her I can’t help myself. When Joe and I first started dating everyone online made sure I knew that they wanted it to be her. That they were rooting for the downfall of our relationship because they believed he was meant to be with someone else. It took a huge toll on my mental health in the beginning. And as much as I like to pretend I don’t think about it, it’s never gone away. I compare myself to her at every turn, think about her often, curious if he thinks about her also..
*i’m so obsessed with your ex, i know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed.*
Joe and I had been dating for a while and he finally asked me to move in. I was ecstatic, spending every single day with the person I love sounded like a dream. No one could take the smile off my face, except her. Joe had told me to use the bedside table for some of my things, he told me to make myself at home because that’s what this place is now. I opened the drawer and found a peppermint chapstick and some lightly salted almonds.
“Hey babe?” I say loud enough for Joe to hear me from the ensuite bathroom.
“What’s up?” He pokes his head out of the door, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth.
“I was just wondering what I should do with these? I’m assuming they don’t belong to you..” I mumble, I didn’t even have to listen to his answer, I knew who’s they were.
“Uh.” Joe is frozen speechless for a moment before recovering, “Yeah, babe just toss them in the trash.”
He turns back to the sink to finish his nighttime routine and I sit there lost in my thoughts. I don’t want to think about her, I don’t want to think about the love he had before me because it’s over for a reason. But knowing that she has slept on this side of the bed that we now share is doing something detrimental to my brain. When Joe steps out of the bathroom it doesn’t take him long to notice the look on my face and the items still lingering in my hands. He walks over and gently opens my fingers to take them and toss them in the trash. When he comes back he tilts up my chin to look me in the eyes..
“I’m sorry, I should’ve checked everything before you got here. You didn’t need to see that.”
“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t really expecting that I guess.”
“It’s in the past, I don’t care about that anymore. I always hated when she was crunching on almonds at bedtime anyway.”
We both laugh as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.
*I’m starin’ at her like I wanna get hurt. And I remember every detail you have ever told me.*
She wasn’t supposed to be here. Joe promised me that she hadn’t RSVP’d and she wasn’t on the guest list, but here she is. Sitting across from me in all her glory, She is laughing with people I’ve never met and I’m reminded that I’m new here. I’m reminded that they had a whole life together before I came along, a life that included most everyone here. I’ve convinced myself people are staring. Do they want me gone just like everyone else? Do they think Joe would be better off getting back together with her? He told me once that they always had fun at weddings, he said things were good between them when everyone else was around. He said she smiled more and didn’t pay as much attention to the small things when there was so much going on around them. That she was always daydreaming about what they’d have one day and the tension would dissipate for a few hours. I wonder if she’s wishing she was here with him. She looks up and a huge smile spreads across her face, for a moment I think she’s smiling at me, then I realize that Joe is coming up behind me. For some reason that makes me sick to my stomach, that she’s smiling at him like that. He gives her a small wave before turning his attention to me.
“Would you dance with me? Please?” He adds at the end with his puppy dog eyes. I can’t say no. He takes me by the hand and leads me out onto the floor. “Have I told you how beautiful you look in this dress?” He whispers as he pulls me close.
“A few times. But I’m not tired of hearing it.” I laugh
“Well you do, I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off you. Everyone loves you, they’re stoked that you decided to come.” That Insecure part of me pokes it’s head out again. Do you mean it? I want to ask but that’s not what comes out.
“Are you just saying that so I don’t freak out later?”
“No. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I give him a pointed look, “And so that you don’t leave and over analyze everything you’ve done tonight.” He laughs, leaning in giving me a gentle kiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see her looking over at us and I feel like smiling because I realize.. he hasn’t looked away from me once.
*She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips the life of every fuckin’ party. She’s talented, she’s good with kids she even speaks kindly about me.*
Torture. That’s what this feels like. It’s Sam’s birthday today and he’s having a huge get together. She’s here, dancing with some of the other WAGs. Joe always said she was the life of the party, I wish I could hate her. I’m still trying to recover from the sickening feeling of watching Joe’s nephews run into her arms as they walked in when Jess approaches me.
“You’ve been staring.” She simply states.
“I know. I can’t help it.” I huff out a sigh, finally taking my eyes off the shiny bright light prancing around in the middle of the room.
“Maybe you should speak to her, she’s really great.” Bile rises in my throat at the thought of that encounter.
“That’s the problem.”
“She thinks you’re wonderful,” She doesn’t know me is what runs through my mind, “She’s glad that you and Joe are together. She wants him to be happy, and anyone can see he’s happy with you.”
“I wish that made me feel better.” I finish the rest of my drink and step out onto the lawn for some fresh air.
*I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy.*
I haven’t said a word since we left the party. Joe keeps looking over at me like I could explode any second, I can see his hand twitching like he wants to reach out and touch me but convinces himself otherwise. After several excruciating minutes he speaks up.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He whispers, his voice gravely from sitting in silence.
“I don’t think you want to know what I’ve been thinking about Joey.”
“I think I already know. I just wish you’d talk to me about it. Instead of keeping it bottled up inside.” At this point we are pulling into the garage but neither of us makes a move to get out of the vehicle.
“Do you think about her? When we go to things like that do you miss her?” My voice is barely above a whisper and I’m holding my breath, I know he loves me. I’ve never doubted that. I think I just need to hear him say that he’s choosing me.
“I don’t.” He sounds so sure of himself, like this is the easiest question in the world, “I think about you. Every second of every day. When I go to things like that I watch you, I get excited when I see you with the people I care about, and when you’re not there, I miss you.” He takes my hand and squeezes it three times.
“They all love her.”
“And I love you. Hey, look at me.” I tilt my chin so that I can see him, “No more of this crazy talk okay? I love you, I want you, and I don’t like the idea of you comparing yourself to anyone else. You’re one of a kind.” I know. I know. I know.
“I think I just needed to hear you say it.” I give a small smile, “I promise.. no more obsessing over your ex.”
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Hi, I love your writing! I'm not sure if you are doing the erotic horror prompts anymore but if you are, then may I request a Prompt 9 OR 34 with John Wick?
Hi, thank you so much, Anonymous. It means the fucking world to me!!! Allow me to express my gratitude with some predator/prey:
(I know these are supposed to be horror, but I keep turning them into fluff. Please forgive me🥺❤️)
“So, the first rule of self defense is run,” John says, giving her a heavy, doubtful side eye that speaks volumes about his faith in her to do so.
“Second?” She asks, arms crossed, foot tapping, watching him stalk circles around her like he’s going to drop her at any moment - her heart patters wildly every time she sees his step slow or his eyes move to a vulnerable part of her body, even though she knows that whatever “tells” he exhibits are actually fakeouts and dead ends. Just a way to get her nerves worked up so that she’s taking him seriously.
He stops in front of her, places a finger in the center of her chest, and she knows he could give a little push and she’d be flat on her ass.
But he doesn’t. He smiles. “Hide.”
She rolls her eyes. “The third?”
“Fight. And -“ he moves his finger against her bare skin, drawing her eyes and attention, then flicks her lightly on the forehead as punishment for falling for it. “Don’t roll your eyes at your superior.”
She rubs the pink mark. “Ow,” she tells him, even though the trick only stung a tiny bit.
“Now say, “yes, master.”” His eyes light with mischief.
Every piece of her fucked, masochist body wants to fight him on that if only to earn more brutality for it. But this is supposed to be critical training, even though her trainer isn’t taking it as such.
She figures that she’ll be the determined one, for once, so she tips her head, straightens her shoulders, and says, “yes, master.”
His eyebrow raises behind untamed bangs. “Good.”
“Did you take that from a job orientation class?” She asks him.
“What?”
“At jobs, they use the ‘run, hide, fight’ for active shooters.”
He shakes his head no, but it’s so hard to tell when and if he’s fucking with her…
“Have you ever had a normal job?” She wonders aloud.
He shrugs. “Then you already have the basics down. Excellent.” He continues circling. “Start small,” he says. “Then, work your way up.”
She nods, although annoyed with being ignored, continue.
“So, we start with running.”
She cringes. The mere thought of him watching her run laps is painfully embarrassing.
Wanting to impress and not kill this before it even gets started, she keeps her mouth shut.
“I’ll give you a minute head start.”
Wait, what did he say?
She almost laughs. “We’re racing?”
His grin is worrying. “No, I’m chasing you.”
In that case, she wants to ask for at least a five minute head start; eyes his thick, long legs. The taut muscle is visible shifting and tensing, even under his baggy sweatpants.
“You’re going to catch me,” she tells him, wanting to argue about this being unfair.
“Then you’d better start running,” he replies, flipping his wrist over to check the ticking time.
“What - where am I allowed to go?” Cool sweat collects at the nape of her neck.
“Anywhere.” He’s still looking at his watch, waiting patiently.
“When are we starting?”
His eyes flit up, glint at her, then focus back on the dwindling time. “Five seconds ago.”
Prickling anticipation drives her to argue. “How is that going to help me? Just running all day so you can keep catching me? Pretty soon I’ll get tired and will just give up and let you catch me.”
“Oh, that’s what I forgot to mention,” John murmurs.
Anger anxiety cocktail spikes. Forgot to mention? There’s a lot of shit that he’s conveniently forgetting to mention.
“If I catch you, I tickle you.” His grin grows into a sharp-bladed tip.
“John,” she says, voice worried, which delights him. “That is not fair. You’re going to catch me and you can’t just tickle me all day when you do.”
He’s a reasonable man. He’ll see her issue. She’s valid in her concerns, and they both know it.
“Yes I can.”
“Are you serious?!”
“Uh huh.” He taps his watch face. “Thirty seconds.”
Her shoes slip on the cushiony matts, landing her on her knees before she can start bolting.
He resists the urge to go to her. Thankfully, she’s not down for long, or else his concern would get the better of him.
She stands and runs. Up the stairs, already panting and sweating, adrenaline an ache that builds higher the farther away she gets from him.
Out the door of the gym, down the hallway, trying not to fall again and losing precious time because of it.
She’s in the cold before she knows what she’s doing. Her t-shirt does nothing to cover her from the frost, but fear and physical exertion help her stay warm.
Down the left block, then ducking through an alleyway, wondering if he’s on her tail by now.
Blessedly, there’s no snow on the ground, so she’s not leaving any footprints. Also, that means she can go faster and not have to worry about falling.
She rushes a corner and almost takes out an older man walking his dog, so, of course, she has to stop and profusely apologize.
“It’s fine, dear,” he chuckles.
She pats his friendly Labrador on the head. “Are you sure?” She looks him over, and he seems okay. Her memory says she ran smack dab into his frail frame, but maybe it’s just her psychosis acting up again.
“I’m alright, dear, where is your coat? Your skin is ice cold.”
“Oh, I left it at home, just going for a jog,” she replies, trying to be casual.
His fluffy dog pushes a wet nose into her hand and nuzzles her out of more attention.
“This is Sam,” the older man introduces. “He is very friendly.”
“He’s amazing,” she says, using both hands to stroke blonde, cold fur.
“Are you training for a marathon?” The man asks. “I hear there’s a big one by Macy’s next week.”
“No. Just exercising.” She smiles up at him, wondering how to politely break this conversation off and save her own ass.
Behind him, about half a block down, is her pursuer and teacher.
It would be better if he looked disappointed. So, so much better.
Her hand stills on Sam’s head.
That expression would be a glare if his mouth wasn’t pulled up at the seams. His eyes of brilliant brown are blown black. Like a shark. No, too intentional to be a shark - it isn’t pure hunger that drives him.
Gotcha.
Fear is the only thing she’s capable of feeling for a couple of seconds as she forgets what, exactly, is going on while an instinctual and ancient part of her remembers what it’s like to be hunted.
She’s going to feel really bad, later, about turning away from a nice man and his dog without so much as a goodbye and sprinting the opposite direction.
That trepidation just coils tighter the more she runs. She wasn’t built for this. Her legs are too short, her body too pillowy to gain any sort of momentum, her lungs too small for the air required in running.
It’s nothing but luck and adrenaline carrying her down crossroads and alleys.
She spares a glance behind her, and almost feels like she’s winning when she doesn’t see John.
It’s because he’s in front of her.
At the end of the gravelly side street, lounging lazily on the wall.
Michael fucking Meyers, that’s what this reminds her of. You never see him moving, but somehow he’s always catching up to you.
She almost falls again when turning around to dash the other way, but manages to keep a shaky, vertical grip on earth.
John surpasses her, the easy stride of his legs infuriating, and plants himself in her path so that she runs smack into his chest.
There’s no time to get away. He already has her biceps gripped tight.
She winces, writhes, glower resembling more of a pout.
“When you run,” he says, kissing her head with a soft mouth that contradicts his hard grip. “You zigzag. Go every direction. Never in a straight line. Never predictably. You have to not think about where you’re going, but focus wholly on your destination.”
“Helpful tips that I should have known earlier?” She tries, grinning dryly.
He chuckles. “If I just tell you, you won’t learn. Which reminds me: Let’s take you home and get you warm. I owe you some merciless tickling, don’t I?”
“I was hoping you’d forget,” she groans. “Second chance?”
“You’ll get plenty of chances,” he assures, leading her back to where she came with a big arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm.
#john wick x reader#john wick fanfiction#john wick x plus size reader#keanuverse fic#keanuverse#Idk wtf this is#My touch starved brain said fluff#And I obeyed#IV Drabbles
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riku spins sora in a slow circle, one hand in sora’s, the other on sora’s hip as the brunet laughs that nervous, fluttery laugh he does when he’s worried about messing something up
the sound makes riku’s heart ache in only the best of ways
the worst of ways
keep your eyes on me, riku says quietly, barely audible over the tinny music softly coming from the gummiphone, his hand moves to lightly tap under sora’s chin, urging the younger boy to look upwards at the keyblade master
and sora would do it anyway, because it’s riku, and he loves looking at riku, but his eyes keep nervously sliding down to his feet as they sway together
riku asked him to dance and like anything riku asks him to do, he doesn’t want to mess this up for the other boy
riku’s fingers graze over the soft edge of sora’s jawline, and sora leans into the touch, eyes flitting half-closed as the music swells to a crescendo and for one little moment, one tiny, precious moment, riku is all sora has in that moment
it all boils down to riku’s hand on his cheek, thumb stroking the skin under his eye, riku’s hand on his hip that burns like an iron even through layers of cloth
hold on tight, riku whispers as he moves to dip sora
sora bites the thin skin of his lower lip and braces himself as riku angles the both of them until all that’s holding sora up anymore is riku’s own strength
sea glass green eyes stare at sora with such burning intensity that sora has to look away and he can feel the blood burning, burning, burning beneath his skin as riku leans in even closer until they’re both breathing each other’s air
the music comes to a stop
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