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drvscarlett · 3 months

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Let him cook

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader

Series Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series

Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo

liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.

Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list

User1 aint no way you cooked this

User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video

CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious

Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!

PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???

Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking

Y/NCooks posted a photo

YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos

Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!

YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry

User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!

User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!

User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!

Mystery Box challenge episode

There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.

"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"

You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"

"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.

"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.

The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"

"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"

"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says

"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.

"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.

Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.

He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.

"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate

"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"

"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"

"Nothing, I just saw an ad"

"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"

"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"

Cake challenge

You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.

Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.

"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"

Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.

It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.

There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.

"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."

"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"

"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.

"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.

"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite

"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"

"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.

Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.

Melbourne GP meets MasterChef

This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.

"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"

There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.

"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"

All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.

Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.

"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed

"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.

"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined

"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested

That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.

It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.

"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"

"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"

"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.

So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.

"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.

"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.

"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"

Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"

Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.

"Goodluck on your race Charles!"

There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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riacte · 10 months

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I feel like Ren and Martyn miss their Dogwarts days in different ways because it’s like… Ren missed what it was. Being king. Having a loyal right hand man. Having an army. Protecting his friends. Building a strong fortress. Having a purpose to fight for.

It’s like how Ren was so sad in his first days in Last Life because he was all alone, then went and dramatically declared his loyalty to the Fairy Queen Lizzie not unlike how Martyn declared his loyalty in Third Life. With the Fairy Fort, he had a faction to fight for, a queen to protect. He felt like he belonged somewhere. He liked building his watchtower, liked making the secret basement, liked organising meetings with his faction. He may not be King anymore, but he’s still furiously protecting his friends.

Then came Double Life. Ren was ecstatic that his soulbound was BigB (“best friends forever, baby!”) because they could belong to each other. Ren set up an intimidating fortress (“Box”) to protect them, not unlike Dogwarts’ walls. He desperately wanted things to work with BigB (even though he found a secret soulmate in Martyn), and even did marriage therapy with him. They were loyal to each other. Ren very much liked the idea of people being loyal to each other. Of course, he ended up tangled up with Martyn in every life anyway, because he provided him with what Ren liked. Loyalty, theatrics, and trust.

But Martyn? Martyn missed who it was.

Even in the Southernlands, Martyn always kept an eye out for Ren. He gave Ren netherwart, put out his fire, and for what? In Double Life, Martyn did kind of try to be allies with his soulbound, but he wasn’t very good at it. Martyn didn’t miss being loyal to a partner. He missed Ren. And while Mean Gills was more functional than DL Martyn and Cleo, Martyn still backstabbed (a willing) Scott in the end. And spent his entire red life with the Red Winter scarf around him. And monologued about being an unguided hand, how he cried so hard when Ren died it shattered his soul, and his last thoughts before he died was literally Ren at the altar.

So maybe Ren never left Dogwarts as a faction, an organisation, and home. But it was Martyn who truly never left Ren’s side. Ren missed having a home. Martyn missed Ren, because Ren was home.

#trafficblr #rendog #inthelittlewood #renchanting #treebark #ria.txt

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #aged up neteyam #SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam

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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 6 months

Text

┊┊ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. Aϝϝliƈƚiσɳ ┊┊ཻུ۪۪

彡 A Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Cursed!Male!Reader | SMUT 彡

＊ Contents ; Obsession, stalking, masturbation, masochism, kind of non-con sleep blowjob, rough sex, murder, handjobs, and worshipping.

＊ Dynamic ; Soft Yandere/Admirer to Lover

＊ Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Gojo Satoru | Dom!Male!Reader

＊ P.O.V ; Third

＊ Age Range ; 18+ (This is younger Gojo by the way.)

＊ Music suggestion ;

┌──────── • ✧ • ────────┐

Satoru was a man of many. Intelligent, charming, unserious, and funny; he had no problem with meeting people outside and inside of school. Rather, he had quite a bit of friends, set up the day he was born with everything he needed for a social life. Handsome, strong, and labeled better than everyone else. That was him. And he knew this very well.

It was no secret that he took advantage of it. In his spare time, Gojo was known for hooking up with various women and men like it was some sort of fun game where he needed to collect as many bodies as he could. Just to be on top of the ‘Who’s most fuckable pyramid?’. It was his thing. He was number one. He needed to have everything. Just, because, he was Gojo Satoru.

Many spread the word on how he was in those behind-the-scenes exchanges, his fucking skills not short from all his other accomplishments, perfection at its finest. And one thing that was the most mentioned about the sorceror was how no one… NO ONE… could get him to fall for them. No matter how many times they gave him gifts, no matter how much they followed him, he never looked their way once after they got alone for a simple bang.

Instead, they’d be the ones to fall head over heels and never got over the rejection. That was his specialty. The reason why he gained a fan base. And he was flattered by it. Amused even. But, it never convinced him to get with any single one of them. That would never happen in a million years.

After many shunned attempts from his classmates, old friends, and one night stands to get with him on a relationship level, they assumed that Satoru was full-on Aromantic. That the man loved himself too much to get something like a crush. Or he was in a completely different world than them because of his power.

Those weren’t the real reasons as to why Gojo wasn’t interested in them, however. He just didn’t feel drawn to that vulnerability. How they were so easy to figure out with a simple look from him. Knowing everything like this was the biggest challenge for him. He was stuck, endlessly bored because all of his options were predictable, and not one of them entertaining enough. No threat. That’s how it was.

Until sophomore year of the Jujutsu college was when he came across someone out of the ordinary in the school hallway. He happened to be a new student, transferring from a completely different part of the world, and the amount of cursed energy leaking from his aura made the sorcerer stop in his tracks.

When the man turned to look down directly into Satoru’s eyes as he walked past him, it sent shockwaves through his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. For the first time in his life, he found somebody that he was unable to read.

At first, he was in denial about it. He couldn’t understand why one person would be different from the rest when it came to his perception. So, to figure it out, he began to follow the guy around.

Don’t ask why he didn’t approach him first, he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t. His heart would beat irregularly and he’d start to sweat, his entire chest and face heating up if they locked eyes at all. Maybe it was because his [E/C] orbs were intimidating or because he was extremely fucking good-looking. Maybe both. All he knew was that he never experienced it before and that was terrifying.

He started with small stares from afar, prop up near the places he would spot him and watch what he would do for several minutes. Waiting until he left to walk right behind him and see where else he would go.

So far, he was about as normal as anyone else in routine. He’d walk to his classes, do his work, and focus hard on his studies throughout lunch. Burying his nose in books upon books that the white-haired man would never pick up. Yet, what he found intriguing was his lack of interest in others.

The man didn’t socialize, ever. He would get up from his seats and tables whenever somebody would sit next to him. If they tried to talk to him, they were ignored like they were a wall. He’d ignore them, throw their notes to him in the trash, and any project he was assigned to was made for him to be alone. It was almost near impossible to grab a name. Thankfully, the system needed it to enroll and that was easy to get to.

Now, he knew that it was wrong of him to invade his personal space and illegal. But, Gojo had a severe problem with boundaries and it didn’t help that he could get away with it by teleporting. Also, he just didn’t care. A little curiosity never hurt him.

Eventually, he got to rummaging through the school records in the late hours of night, finding a file containing a name he didn’t recognize, ‘[L/N] [F/N]’. Pulling it out of its box, he opened it to check the picture and came face-to-face with a question mark box in place of it. His eyebrows furrowed and he scanned through the rest of what was listed about him.

The description of his features and classes were all there, things that he already knew, the basic stuff. But, this confirmed that [F/N] was his name and that’s all that mattered. Satoru was about to close the document and put it back before he glanced down at a small paragraph that read:

‘[L/N] is reserved to be under tight supervision and security conditions. He shall never be allowed to leave the city or Jujutsu without permission. If it falters, we will initiate our final plan.’

He narrowed his glowing blue eyes at the ominous writing, thumbing over the edges of the page while he thought to himself quietly, ‘I wonder… Is he as good as me?’ That idea crossed his mind and didn’t leave him alone. ‘Someone stronger than me… Is that possible?’ His fingers folded the paper back to where it belonged while trying to ignore himself, tucking it safely, and closing the drawer to make it look like nothing was tampered with. Then he turned around to get to heading out, not seeing the large figure looming in the shadows behind him.

It was by the time Gojo hopped out of the window he used to break into the room, that he realized [F/N] was plaguing every corner of his brain. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like his face was burned into his memory.

His gloomy, [E/C] eyes that bore a hole through him whenever he caught his attention. That sharp nose that gave him an edge, scrunched up at anyone that passed by. Plump, pouty lips that would frown as soon as he was being bothered. God, and that soft red tone resting in the middle of them, it made him think of the worst perverted things he could possibly come up with.

Satoru was tripping over his feet trying to get back to his dorm room, using the roofs of buildings, and traveling at a rate he could when dealing with a boner this bad.

Finally, right as he stumbled into his place, he began unbuckling his belt and sliding it off to throw it loosely onto the floor somewhere. He got most of his clothes off of him and left his boxers to be the last thing pulled off, his dick springing free and brushing over his lower stomach before he wrapped his slender hand around the base.

He played with his tip for a minute, beads of pre-cum sliding down and coating his fingers. Letting him cover his shaft the more he pumped. It was throbbing, blushing pink like cotton candy, and glistened in the moonlight of his room. And oddly enough, all of this was being done to a fantasy of sucking [F/N] off.

Gojo had never touched himself to someone individually before. Especially to someone he hadn’t hooked up with. And not in a way where they were on top or it wasn’t solely based on sex.

This was new to him and he was losing himself to it, badly. His hips thrusted upwards into his hand, the other one reaching up to his mouth so he could suck on his fingers and coat them with spit. Finishing getting them wet, he positioned two of them against his hole and slowly forced it inside.

He closed his eyes and imagined it was [F/N]’s, groaning at the abnormal feeling of being finger-fucked but enjoying it more than anything else. It barely took a couple of times of ramming them in before his cum began to spurt out in huge amounts. Decorating both his stomach and his hand in a stringy design.

After that night, Satoru came to a conclusion on how he felt about the [H/C]-haired man. This proved to be very, very frustrating.

The urge to see [F/N] was constant. It got so bad that he was leaving zero to little time for his friends, spending most of it on lingering near his newfound crush and drooling over any tiny thing he would do. And this went on for weeks.

Until one day, his obsession hit an all-time high. He was following him into the locker rooms like usual, having memorized this to be his routine whenever he was going to get ready for training. Although, to his disappointment, the guy would use his shirt and towel to cover himself when he changed. So he never even got a single peek.

But, today seemed to be different because [F/N] didn’t head toward his locker. He went in the direction of the showers, carrying a couple of items with him that looked like clothes and necessities. Excitement and nervousness rushed through Satoru. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was going to get to see the man in all of his glory.

To keep himself from being detected, he was suspended in the air near the ceiling in a sitting position, patiently watching him arrange the shampoo and conditioner bottles before gripping the hem of his black fitted shirt.

[F/N] stripped it off of him, going at a slow pace that was teasing the hell out of him. Gojo was on the edge of his seat as he took in every bit, biting his bottom lip when he got to his pants and slipped them off of his slim waist. His build was impressive and so was his stature, enough to make Satoru draw blood from how hard he was digging his teeth in.

It wasn’t surprising that the white-haired man went straight to unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard-on into view. Watching how he washed his body and cleaned his hair, struggling to hold in his moans while getting off to the sight. He barely got past five minutes before he was cumming mid-air, the droplets landing in the corner and making a bit of noise, causing Gojo to abruptly rush out of there as soon as he saw him turning his head.

His back was pressed against the wall on the other side of the showers, his chest moving up and down, the butterflies in his stomach swarming. He reached down to tuck his dick back in and zip it up, glancing at his hands that were dirtied with his jizz. Satoru sighed, in disbelief at his own actions before he went for the nearby sinks to wash them off.

Just as he did that, the shower was turned off and out stepped [F/N] a minute later. He passed by him while he was drying his hands off, causing Gojo to tense. His beating heart hadn’t even calmed from what happened not too long ago, he couldn’t handle this. So, he spun around and bolted for the door faster than the two of them could speak.

A small smirk quirked up the side of the [H/C]-haired man’s mouth, his gaze drifting toward the disappearing back of him, smug with a glint in his eyes.

Eventually, days had passed and Satoru was still in the same routine with chasing around his crush everywhere. Except it spread to him casually visiting his place in the middle of night to spend the rest of it either watching him sleep or pleasing himself outside of his window.

There would be times where he would break in and take his things to use like boxers and lotion. But, he tried to make it unnoticeable. He cared about stealth. That was until one of those nights, [F/N] decided to wear nothing but underwear.

Gojo’s blue eyes were glued on his figure, feeling like it was his lucky day to get to see something as rare as this. He was used to him wearing tank tops and basketball shorts, a small peep of his waistband was the most action he’d get if the man happened to move. Getting too excited, he was already sliding his sweatpants to his knees, shoving a hand in to get to jerking off for the millionth time. He couldn’t get tired of it when it came to him.

But before Satoru started, he realized that the window had been cracked open slightly. It was left open. Open…

He stopped what he was doing to push the rest of it upward, climbing inside of the tidy room and shutting it right after. The warmth and the quiet atmosphere invited him in, making him almost feel at home. That wasn’t wrong considering he was found in this place daily, scouring and finding out any thing that he had in this room. Which wasn’t much. Only thing that he was interested in was the locked box under his bed. Though, he couldn’t bust it no matter how hard he tried.

Looking down at the peaceful, sleeping [F/N] made his mind wander to a darker side of lust, his orbs brightening like diamonds as he let his sweats drop to the floor along with his boxers. He stepped out of them and lifted himself using his ‘Infinity’, hovering over him and getting the real picture of their size difference.

Gojo steadied his breathing as best as he could while flicking his eyes over his boxers, peeling them off bit by bit. He had to be extremely slow, careful than ever. Because if he woke up, who knows what would happen to him? And that risky feeling was more than enough fuel for the sex-crazed man.

Once [F/N]’s dick was exposed, Satoru had expected to see it flaccid, but it was already halfway hard. ‘Hm? Is he having a wet dream?’ He came to that conclusion. His excitement worsening because of the assumption and ended in him jumping the gun. He lowered down to where his tip was, giving a small kitten lick and watching his expression to see what would happen.

He knew it was a terrible idea to do what he was planning on. But, he didn’t want to stop what he was doing either. Actually, the fantasy of him finding out was really hot to him. What would he do? Would he get upset? Degrade him a bit? He was sure he could get off to that too.

[F/N] furrowed his brows a little and a noise similar to a grunt came from him, letting Gojo have the clear to go further. He placed his entire tongue on it, swirling around the head of his dick at a medium pace, and tasting his salty pre-cum with a satisfied look on his face. God, how long had he wanted to do this? He couldn’t keep track. It wasn’t that long of a wait but to him, it was like he served decades in prison, being teased with the keys in the cell next to him.

More grunts slipped past [F/N]’s pretty lips, falling onto his ears, and encouraging him to take more into his mouth. He hollowed out his cheeks while bobbing his head up and down to give the finishing touch, pulling out his phone at some point to snap a thirty second video of what he was doing for safekeeping. Every sound of his was making his own cock leak with arousal, dripping onto his bed, and reminding him that he needed attention too.

He dropped the device to move his hand back down, stroking his shaft and playing with the slit on his tip, muffling his moans on [F/N] and getting dirtier with the blowjob. His spit was running down the sides of him, messy and spreading around his mouth. The bobbing turned into a circle motion and he progressively got faster and faster. Feeling his dick twitching once he deepthroated.

The [H/C]-haired man’s legs lifted slightly, bending his knees while he thrusted upward. His eyebrows completely knitted together and his noises only sounding more intense. He was nearing his end, Satoru could tell. And it was then that he popped his mouth off, gasping for air, making his other hand wrap around to jack him off at a speed so quick that there was no time lost.

He stuck out his tongue and pressed it right against the landing zone, an odd euphoric look to his eyes as he soaked in the moment like it was his biggest achievement yet. That was until he saw those [E/C] ones piercing right back at him, the color of them being replaced with a… glowing, dark purple? What?

In an instant, Gojo’s hair was swept through and grabbed into a fistful, lifted off of him and thrown into the wall next to them with a force strong enough to cause him to go through it. His eyes went wide, staring directly at the frightened face of one of his classmates who was awoken by the loud impact and flying drywall. Barely a second into the exchange of words through looks with the girl, he was yanked back into the room, and the men rolled together onto the ground.

[F/N]’s palm slapped across his mouth, digging his thumb and all of his fingers into both of Satoru’s cheeks; turning him around to face towards his chest so he could pin him down better. His other hand was locked tightly in a grip around his wrists, both of his knees underneath his legs, his usual cold stare replaced by rage. And what he was hoping earlier felt heard all of a sudden.

There, he got to meet his crush for the first time and have that closeness he’d been hoping to get. Or just a simple word back. Something. He craved for his attention so bad that he could threaten him and it’d still satisfy his desire.

Gojo’s surprise slowly shifted into a wide smile, his eyes having a crazier spark to them while he giggled, figuring out what [F/N] had done. It was a trap.

The sound of a concerned voice interrupted before he could speak, “Gojo-kun? Are you okay?” Satoru mentally sighed, his expression dropping to half-lidded annoyed glare. He heard a brief slip of a laugh from [F/N] and raised his brows in shock, thinking he was amused by his face until he felt something pushing against his lower body, entering right inside of his hole.

No, he wasn’t laughing at that. He was laughing because he was enjoying the fact he was going to be exposed. Satoru should’ve been turned off by that, but rather he was loving it himself. He didn’t know why. This was so unlike the upcoming head of the Gojo clan. Although, he lost it already once [F/N] buried most of his thick length inside of him. His soul looked like it was being possessed, a purple glazing over his blue eyes.

Thankfully, he was stretched out by his fingers previously because the width of his cock was big enough to still make it feel uncomfortable. His thrusts rough as soon as he got most of it in. He didn’t think it would hurt this much, feel this amazing too. The combining sensations fucking with his brain and making him melt into the powerful man’s hold.

[F/N] was inside of his head. Literally. He could hear him whispering things in there through his technique, “You’re mine, Six Eyes. All of that cursed energy… It’s mine now.” Mind manipulation. That was his technique. He figured it out.

No wonder he couldn’t understand what it was at first. It was one of the main attributes of the special grade cursed object, ‘[M/N]’s Needles’. That means that the small marks on his forehead weren’t birthmarks, it was needles, deep into his own skull.

A smirk grew on the side of [F/N]’s mouth when he saw the ‘Aha!’ look across Gojo’s face, an extremely low, nerve-wracking voice coming out of him as he leaned right next to the white-haired male’s ear to remind him, “You’re not winning anything. I think I’d like to take your offer up on making you my new fuck toy.”

Then the aggressive fucking from before turned into straight abuse on him, Satoru’s expression twinging through a mixture of exasperation and pure bliss. Locking eyes with the same girl he’d been stressing about when his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. She choked up and took a step back, watching her peer get destroyed. But not for much longer because she mysteriously got warped into space, disappearing from the room without any explanation.

Gojo peeked back at [F/N], psychotically smirking and letting out a string of loud, slutty moans and groans. Not holding back because he knew that nobody could stop them. Especially with such a strong curse at his side. Despite his knowledge on what he was doing to him, he also made sure he could take control of the situation too. And what that means is he formed a pact.

The young sorcerer leaned forward, summoning most of his strength to give him a kiss, struggling to keep his eyes open anyway. [F/N] didn’t kiss back, knowing what he was up to the second he heard the thought from Satoru. But, he kept insisting, pushing his lips harder and harder against his.

There was several attempts at rejecting him, but it didn’t matter. Even as [F/N] gripped his ass harshly with both hands, dug all of his nails in, and tore his bottom lip up more. He continued to plant the same kiss, going so far and desperate that he started making out with him. It didn’t matter if he responded to it because Satoru wasn’t just doing it out of tricking him into this pact. This was love. Twisted, fucked up, love.

[F/N] pulled away for the twelfth time, panting and surprised that he was holding on for this amount of time. By now, they’d be falling apart and passing out. And he had even switched it to his most effective position. Gojo’s back was pressed up on the wall, arched and his legs wrapped around his waist, struggling to hold on from him being quite tall. His hand was wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard to the point where he was coughing, making sure that he didn’t lift himself to kiss him anymore.

“Do you want to get yourself killed? Or do you want to cum and survive, asshole?” [F/N] spat, getting up to his face in a threatening manner. Satoru smiled back at him once again, managing to choke a sentence out, “I want both… please!” He was teasing him even in this situation. The grip on his soul never wavering yet he talked back. This pissed him the hell off.

Every ounce of his strength raged into Gojo immediately after that, the wall caving in on them, and the sheer volume of both of their techniques fighting one another in the midst of their exchange. His crystal blues spaced out and tilted up, staring off as he fell limp in [F/N]’s arms, his forehead pressing against his to give one last attempt.

The [E/C]-eyed man couldn’t resist the temptation. He didn’t know why. He didn’t think about it. He just did it. His lips smashed onto Satoru’s expecting him to be drained of anything that he could use against him. But, he was wrong. Dead wrong. If anything, the fate had been sealed right then and there from that action.

A knot was forming in [F/N]’s and his stomach as he panicked about the failure when feeling his power fade along with Gojo’s, the smile from before planting against his face right in the kiss they had. He tricked him into it. He fucking cheated.

So much anger was rammed into Satoru for the next few hours even after [F/N] and him finished at the same pace. His guts practically being filled with his seed over and over, then rapidly having it fucked in until it couldn’t escape. He paid him back for what he did. For ruining everything he had by tying a commitment to him he didn’t want. Although, for some reason, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Possibly looking forward to their time together.

|| Extra ||

Satoru weakly smiled at Geto and shook his head, answering his question on where he’s been the last couple of months with a soft sigh, “I’ve been getting around a lot. When you have this many fans, it’s hard to keep up.” The black-haired man looked at him, unamused; poking at his noodles. His baggy eyes seemed to be getting worse. Shoko chimed in a smart comment, “Is that why you’re getting hickeys now? You letting someone top you?”

Gojo froze and snapped his head at her, his serious face causing her to began laughing like crazy and exclaim out loud, “No way! So, it’s true! You are being bottom!” He raised his hands in the air at her and waved them around while denying it profusely, “You think someone can get one over me? Gojo! Satoru! Do you not know my name? What kind of crazy lady are you, huh?!”

They bickered back and forth until Geto split the two of them up and decided it was time for all of them to go their separate ways. He waved ‘Goodbye’ as he walked away, slipping his hands in both of his pockets before turning his head to look in an alleyway that he was barely about to pass. For a split second, he was sure he caught a glance of purple eyes peering back at him, but when he checked again; there was nothing.

He looked at the dark midsection of the buildings, waiting to see if something else would happen, and then walked on as soon as it appeared to be his mind playing tricks on him.

Little did he know, that later on in that same alleyway, after Shoko left Gojo alone. He was being fondled by the curse he now claims as his forever boyfriend and ‘fuck buddy’ who stood there, eavesdropping on him the entire day.

They switch roles in following each other. Happening to be [F/N]’s day. And they both couldn’t hold back the urge of wanting to fuck the shit out of the other all the time. Satoru never reluctant to letting the man have his way. And as he let the blue-eyed man finish from his hand, he dug his teeth into his shoulder blade, mentally shouting at him in his head, “Who’s on top again, pretty boy?! What did you say to them again?” His cum spurted everywhere onto the floor and his fingers, those eyes rolling back like usual while he muttered, “You, sir…. Only, you.”

#jjk smut #smut #smut prompts #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x male reader #gojo x reader #gojo x male reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru is a bottom #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #SoundCloud

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wildestdreamsblog · 8 months

Text

Latibule: Season 2 Prologue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: happy halloween! 🎃

Masterlist Epilogue

"You'll open your stitches, Yoongi-ah," Kim Seokjin noted with a monotonous tone, his eyes still trained on the tablet he was holding when he heard a rustling of the sheets, the first ever sign that the man was truly alive. The mafia prince that turned medical director was sitting comfortably, his long leg over the other as though he had gotten a good night's sleep since the mayhem that happened. It was the eighth day since Yoongi was in a coma, and similarly, it was the eighth day since you passed.

Since then, numerous things transpired- and they were all of violent nature. The five of them shed volume of blood, more so by the youngest of them. It was too bad for the traitors that Jeon Jungkook was frustrated because he almost found his wife. She was almost within his grasp when he was urgently needed back in Korea because unshockingly, one of their brothers was trying to kill the other. And well, the organization needed cleansing of traitors.

Additionally, it was worse for the traitors because the moment he returned was the moment he found his sunshine gone.

Yoongi was physically healing, as evidenced by his vitals that Seokjin was diligently monitoring. It was expected. Yoongi was not likened to a cat for nothing. They all physically saw him fall from the third floor, stood up, and brushed his hands as though it was nothing when they were younger. There was not even an ounce of doubt in their minds that he would wake up one of these days.

That was the thing, Yoongi was healing. But now, Seokjin wondered what would happen once he knew what happened to you.

He didn't have to wait long.

"W-where is she?" Yoongi asked with apparent effort, his hand clutching his shoulder with a barely restrained pain flashing on his face. "I need to go to her. She must be so scared," He sat up and waited for Seokjin to say something, anything.

And he waited, and waited- yet, Kim Seokjin didn't answer him. He merely regarded him with a somber expression on him, a foreign look on his usual jovial face. Jin's jaw was clenched, and he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Yoongi blinked, looking at the older man's eyes with quick realization. He couldn't have gotten any paler even if he wanted to, his eyes widened at what he already knew.

"No. Hyung, no. Fucking no," he shook his head, his movements quick as he pulled the dextrose harshly from his skin, blood now dripping on his hand. He stood up as he aimed for the door, every step he took was shaky, yet his determination to see you was strong. "Take me to her! Where is she!"

Jin tried as best as he could to contain the man, and that was how Kim Namjoon found them. He should have known, he was no match to a man who just lost the only person he ever loved. Namjoon immediately helped his hyung, securing Yoongi's other arm on his side. But the mafia leader was like a wounded animal, thrashing around as it tried to find reprieve. In this case, it was you who was his peace.

"Hyung, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself," Namjoon ordered as gently as he could, but it fell on deaf ears. Yoongi looked at Namjoon, his dark eyes filled with panic and unshed tears. He thought that maybe Namjoon would take him to you.

You were just hurt, right? You were just resting that was why his hyung couldn’t take him to you…right? You were somewhere here. He just needed to ask more, to impose more, and if needed, he just had to scream louder for you and you would come to him…right?

You were alive, right?!

"Namjoon-ah, where is my angel, hmm? Take me to her!" his voice were shaking as he fisted his hands on Namjoon’s shirt, trying to get the taller man to look at him, to listen to him. He was close to pleading, and he wasn’t above it.

Why were they quiet?

Why were they looking at him as though they pity him?

He wasn’t pitiful, he thought. He had you.

The two men shared a downcasted look. Both men didn't know how to tell him that you didn't survive, that not even your remains survived. But they had to.

"She didn't...survive."

Yoongi blinked, and the two of them were quiet as they waited with bated breath for his reaction. Yet, Yoongi just straightened up while chuckling. “Stop lying, Namjoon.”

“He’s not lying,” Jin stated before showing you the necklace he kept in his pocket…your necklace. “This was the only thing left in the scene. You’re the Chief of Police. You know what this means, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi smirked before marching to the door. “T-that’s not hers.”

“Hyung, where are you going?”

“To find her. She’s not dead. She’s not gone. S-She promised me she would never leave me. She never breaks her p-promise,” he struggled to say each word as his body had not yet fully recovered. His determination was commendable, but seeing him reduced to denying your death broke what was left of the brothers’ hearts. “Angel needs m-me. I cannot fail her. N-not this time.”

Yoongi’s body swayed to the side, yet he remained steadfast, walking to where he thought you were. And if he needed to crawl, then he would. If he needed to kneel just to see you, then he would be down on his fucking knees, begging for your forgiveness.

His body failed him the moment he opened the door, his barely-recovered form crashing on the ground that Jin had no choice but to contain the thrashing man the best way he could. With a small prick on his neck, Min Yoongi lost consciousness.

The last thing he called for was you.

Even in his dreams, you never came.

Chapter I

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi yandere #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #suga x you #mafia bts

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wakatshi · 2 years

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UNTOUCHABLE

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | &. — fem! reader, you’re angry with simon, teasing, smoking, clitoral stimulation, thigh riding, dry humping | wc 1.3k words | masterlist

simon riley is a stranger — it’s a thought you can’t ignore anymore.

he doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t smile. not enough. now that you think of it, you’ve never heard simon riley laugh. it’s not his thing. it feels impossible, utterly unrealistic. the idea itself is laughable. it’s always a smirk and it’s almost invisible. too sardonic. too sarcastic and not sincere enough.

you ache for a reaction, a crumb of the real him, but he doesn’t give it you. his caustic attitude is so maddening. exasperation grows inside of you, you’re frustrated and somehow feeling closer and closer to an imminent defeat.

simon riley is too much of a stranger. but ghost isn’t. you’ve seen his face before, but it feels like he constantly hides something; himself, away from you. he’s always on guard. his skin, his deep, visible scars, his every pore, his mouth, his nose, you’ve felt them all under the touch of your very own fingers. he didn’t run away, he stayed, but touching ghost like that simply doesn’t do it anymore.

and how can that be enough when simon is not far from being a complete stranger? his humanity itself is buried somewhere deep inside, it’s a secret hidden behind a annoyingly high wall. simon is there, but is he, really?

this evening is unusually silent, the air is crisp and cold, you wonder where soap went, he swore to defeat you in a poker game yesterday. he wouldn’t have, but still, enthusiasm got ahead of you. captain price isn’t here either. in fact, it’s just you and simon.

you find yourself lazying on a timeworn couch next to him, but he’s too busy. he’s thinking, smoking. acting like you’re not there. you wonder what could go through the mind of a man of his caliber.

“want a cig?” with the pack in his hand, simon breaks the silence, he waits for you to make up your mind.

“no, thanks. why don’t you put that away anyways? that’s your third cig.”

“why?”

“fuck off, simon.”

his gaze shifts away from you for quite some time, the cigar rests between his lips and he inhales the burnt tobacco, smoke drifts away and dissipates in the air. the smell persists and you’re used to it, ghost carries the scent of heavy smoking with him. it’s a constant thing.

“why?”

“i said fuck off. if you don’t wanna, just don’t.”

how stupid. it’s not the cigar, nor this situation in particular. maybe you’re too clingy — you worry. he’s not into that lovey-dovey shit. naturally, he’s ghost after all.

“fucking hell, why are you so angry over a cig? tell me.”

“you don’t… touch me. this… this shit we’re doing isn’t enough. you’re not even talking to me.”

“i don’t touch you?”

simon’s beginning to become self aware. he throws the lit cigar on the ground and crushes it with his boot. “come here,” he meant his lap.

as soon as you make yourself comfortable, his muscular arms begin to move, big, gloved hands linger on the fabric of your shirt and fall on your hips. they stay there, firmly, the lieutenant pulls your body towards him, as close as possible. “relax.”

he’s too attractive.

his body is strong, that of a man who’s seen and fought it all, built for survival and warfare. his mental wounds are yet to be unveiled, but you know simon hides them and it’s beyond you. his forearms thick and veiny, his left arm tattooed, his thighs sturdy, big.

but the man known as ghost treats you like you’re a piece of glass threatening to be broken. he doesn’t think you’re weak— how could he? that’s insanity. how could he think you’re fragile and unskilled when you carry out the missions so well. ghost fears he’s the one who might push you away, and he dreads the flaws of his own being.

“gloves off, simon.”

“gloves off...” he repeats. or rather whispers to himself mindlessly as if you’re giving him instructions. he follows them immediately.

“you’re not funny.”

you grind against his thighs, but there’s some sort of hesitation in your act. he looks untouchable. he’s ghost, not simon, with his mask still on and covering most of his face, except for his mouth and eyes — he follows your movements closely, his eyes wander all over you body, the exposed crook of your neck, your shirt, the waist his hands are holding too tightly. but you don’t complain.

you could’ve made it less obvious that you’re trying to get off on his pants at least. it’s experimental, you’ve never done this before and not with simon. you’re testing the waters. your heart beats annoyingly fast, your chest is heavy and breathing gets harder - it’s almost impossible to resist simon when he touches you like this, even if you tried to hide it, your body would betray any attempt to conceal how much be turns you on. from his body to his voice, everything about him arouses you.

he’d fuck you right here and right now. just tell him and he will. he’d unzip his pants, fill your pussy up to the brim with his cock and make you orgasm in every corner of this room. but for now, he won’t. simon gets some sort of pleasure out of watching you make a mess out of yourself.

it takes a huge amount of self-restraint to oppose whatever is happening right now. he’s well aware and he’s more than used to it.

“come on, i know you wanna do it. i thought we got past that stage.”

“what stage, simon?”

“you shying away from me. i’ve been inside your pussy too many fuckin’ times and you’re still doing this.”

“i hate you.”

“i’m sure you do. now focus, love.”

the feeling of elation comes almost instantly with the friction. you grind your clothed pussy against his pants like you’ve never felt the touch of a man before and you don’t know how to behave. or what to do with yourself. it’s truly embarrassing, a mix between arousal and curiosity.

you’re soaking wet, so, so impatient and you’re filled with a primal urge — to use his body to reach climax.

“say my name, love. louder, don’t be shy.”

“simon!”

it doesn’t take him too long to find his way to your jeans. he unbuckles them and slides his index and middle finger inside, “so wet.”

you feel heavy, your body grows tired and your head falls on his shoulder as your arms wrap around his neck. he pulls you quickly, a prompt don’t escapes his mouth.

“i can’t do this! i’m getting tired.”

“you can. look at me.”

that’s such an easy thing to say coming from a man who’s been sitting and doing nothing but watching you humping his thigh. ghost doesn’t give you a break. he’s merciless, he rubs your clit just fast enough to get a sudden moan out of you. it’s like his fingers were made to play with you pussy and not for what he does out there. they’ve been resting too much under those gloves — they’re warm, but you’re burning.

“feels good? you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you moan my name. say it again.”

“simon…”

“fuck, i could cum in my pants only by looking at you. such a brave girl.” there’s a sarcastic note in his voice, but you ignore it.

simon looks at you the entire time. his gaze pierces through every layer, it’s worse when he wears the mask. your body temperature goes up, you’re close, too close, it’s an explosion, a firework show you’re obsessively craving like nothing else. and it’s here, finally, you’re thankful he stopped you from dry humping his thigh. warm juices drip on his fingers and inside your panties when you orgasm.

“you said i don’t touch you.”

“i wasn’t talking about sex.”

“i know.”

likes, reblogs & feedback are very appreciated! 🤍

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ &. — TAGGING : @touyyes @suget @itachislut @boyfrwenz @xiiaoww @stoner-with-a-boner @pinheadswhore @cherryppick @qrtmin @cosmicfairygirl @introloves @acc-cal

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ &. — NOTE : this i was supposed to be shorter, but i got sooo distracted </3 i plan to write a second part… maybe !!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fic #cod x reader #cod

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slutforleeminho · 4 months

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HI HI HI 😋

your work is so amazing, you're such a good writer! i have no idea if your taking requests, but if you could maybe find time... could you write part two of 'the other woman' please?

it was so well written, and i love some good angst with an even better plot 🫶🏽

also another 'no idea' but if you do anons... could i be 🍧 anon?

tyyy and ofc you can be 🍧 anon

The Other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

ft. lee felix

THIS IS A PART TWO TO THIS - CANT BE READ AS A STAND ALONE

"Nice to meet you, Felix."

"Felix stop it!" Your chest was hurting from the force of your laughing. His fingers dug into your sides, causing your body to automatically jolt from the ticklish feeling. "Seriously lix I'm actually going to pee myself if you don't stop." you barely got the words out through your continuous giggling. only then did he cease his antics and let you breath.

"Eww don't do that. I don't want to have to wash the sheets again." he shifted his body until he was facing you, lying on his side with his arm supporting his head. "That would be the third time this week."

You could hear the smugness in his voice without even looking at him, but when you did, what did you see? a big toothy grin plasterd across his beautiful face. "Shut up." you playfully nudged his shoulder. But the drama queen in him came out as he gripped the place that you hit him with both of his hands in pain, as if you had just shot him.

"Ah, what the hell. are you trying to chop my arm off?"

"Oh, shut up you big baby." you wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled him closer until his nose was basically touching yours. His big brown eyes were staring deep into your soul, expectantly.

"Only if you kiss it better." He whispered against your lips, the warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver. he had a way of making you feel so safe and protected from the world, like nothing could touch you as long as you had him. He leaned even closer in attempt to connect his lips with yours, but the harsh sound of your phone ringing startled you both out of the little bubble you created. You both huffed a breath of annoyance in unison. "It's him again, isn't it?" felix rolled over on his back. it was more of a statement than it was a question.

You grabbed your phone off of the nightstand just to see that there was no caller id so yes it indeed was him.

After Hyunjin walked out on you, you cried and cried and then cried some more, then after that you blocked his number, along with all his other social media accounts. You thought that would be the end.

You were wrong.

The phone calls from unknown numbers started a couple of days after you met Felix. Only once every few days, you never answered of course, you knew as soon as you heard his voice, you'd be right back in the place you're trying so hard to crawl out of. Then you started getting comments on all of your old Instagram posts:

"I miss you."

"Pick up the phone."

"Baby, please I love you."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Seeing that made you both angry and hurt. How could he even say that? You gave that man everything you had while he was only giving you a few days a week. You made sure not to dwell on it for too long, deleting the comments and blocking those accounts.

Then the calls came more frequently, mostly late at night when he was probably alone and horny.

Once you and Felix made your relationship official, you came clean about everything. The affair, the phone calls, the comments, you wanted no secrets between you two, nothing to get in the middle of something that has the potential to grow and become something beautiful. He was shocked but he tried his best to understand and made sure to tell you how proud he was of you for being strong enough to be the one to end things.

"I'm going to kill that guy if I ever see him." Felix said before standing up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" You rushed to say, the worry in your voice was too thick to hide. The anxiety that he'd get sick of you constantly being interrupted by your ex haunted you, and he knew it.

He smiled and walked over to your side of the bed. "To make us some breakfast, I know how hungry you are in the mornings." he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Don't worry, okay? Nothing can stop me from loving you."

The past six months have felt like a vivid dream, you started working for a very famous clothing designer - as an assistant but it was something - and you loved every second of it, you had basically ripped your apartment apart and replaced everything in it and made it your dream home. But the best part was the person who was by your side the entire time, Lee Felix. Of course, you started out as friends but you both knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

You had a perfect schedule: date nights on Monday, sleepover at his place on Wednesdays, and movie night at your place on Saturdays, where he'd spend the night and leave Sunday morning after brunch. You both agreed not to spend every day together because you're still healing from your past relationships and Felix has never been in a serious relationship. But of course, if one or the other got a text saying they missed the other, it only took about ten minutes before there was a knock at their door.

But today is Saturday and you haven't seen him since Tuesday morning since he had to work late on Wednesday. To say you were excited was an understatement, you were practically pacing around the kitchen waiting for him to get here, until he finally appeared on the other side of the island. "That spare key you gave me comes in handy."

"Felix!" you squealed and quickly made your way around the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You took way too long to get here."

"It's ten a.m., did you want me here before daylight?" he was teasing you, but his hands caressed down your back to pull you closer against him. He missed you too.

"I expected nothing less."

"Why did you pick a sad movie?" you sobbed behind your hands.

"Baby, it wasn't that sad." he tried to argue but you saw him wipe away that stray tear right before the movie ended. He thought he was sneaky.

"Tell that to the girl whose best friend just died." you gestured to the tv. Another cry coming from your lips.

"Aww baby stop before you make me cry." he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down on his chest, and combing his fingers through your hair. "Hey," he tilted your head up until you were nose to nose with him, the tears immediately stopped. "it's okay, honey it's all fake."

ring. ring. ring.

"Ughh," you pushed yourself up and grabbed your phone. "It's like he fucking knows!" you put it on Do Not Disturb and shut it off completely. You were pissed now. "I don't know what to do Felix." You plopped back on the couch and he pulled you back to him once again.

"it's okay, love. We'll figure something out, I promise." there wasn't a trace of hurt or annoyance in his eyes, just genuine concern for you. This time when you leaned forward your lips met his and it felt like ages since you were this close to him. He pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, as one hand moved to cup the side of your face.

"Y/N?"

At first you thought you were hallucinating from all the stress, until Felix jerked away from you and stood, dragging you up with him and stepping in front of you to shield you from the intruder.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?" Felix yelled.

Hyunjin looked between you and Felix, confusion all over his face. "Y/N, baby who is this?"

Oh, hell no. You grabbed Felixs hand and squeezed it reassuringly before stepping out from behind him. He was hesitant on letting you any closer to this random man until you said: "He's my boyfriend, Hyunjin." Oh.... Its Hyunjin. Your ex boyfriend.

"How did you get in here?"

He held up the spare key you had forgotten you'd given him while ya’ll were together. You snatched it from his hand before he could pull away. "Why the fuck are you in my apartment?"

"I-" his eyes started to water. "You're with someone else?"

You turned to look at Felix, his jaw was clenched as he watched Hyunjins very move. "Yes. Now leave."

"But I- I thought you loved me," his voice broke. "And I still love you. Y/N, I left her. I left her so we could be together." He said that with a smile as if that would change your mind. No, it made you want to vomit.

"Good, she deserves better. And so do I."

He nodded his head, processing what you just said. You could physically see his hurt turning into anger. "So," he looked straight into your eyes. "Did you tell your little boy toy over there what we did on that couch that you were kissing him on? Hmm? How much you loved it when I leaned you over it and I fucked you till you were begging for m-" He was cut off by you harshly slapping him across the face, the force making him stumble back a bit. In the corner of your eye you saw Felix launch forward just in case hyunjin decided to replicate your violent energy.

"How dare you come into my home and degrade me like this, let alone Infront of someone I care about! I did love you, Hyunjin, but not anymore. And you never loved me. You may know my favorite designer brand or what I like in bed but that's all you know. You don't know what my favorite color is or my dream job, so you definitely don't know who I want. So let me tell you. It's. Not. You. And it never will be. It'll always be me. I am who I want to be happy, and nobody else can make that happen." you stopped to take a deep breath to calm down and hyunjin took that as his que to speak.

"I should've never left her for you, all you are is a cheap slut." This time the smack you heard didn't come from you. It was Felix lunging forward and punching him in the face. A loud crack came from the impact, and you couldn't tell if it was Hyunjins nose or Felix's hand. But judging from the blood gushing from Hyunjins nose, it was definitely broken. Hyunjin stumbled to the floor while holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

"Felix stop!" you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him off of hyunjin. "You," you pointed at hyunjin and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up and towards the door. "Out!" Opening it you pushed him out, slamming it in his face, but not before getting in the last word. "Nice going hyunjin, you just earned yourself a restraining order."

Once the door was closed the reality I what just happened came crashing down on you like a bag of bricks. you pressed your back against the door and slid down it and let all the emotions show themselves. “Felix, i’m so sorry.” you sobbed into you hand. you couldn’t even imagine how he felt right now, but still he came to you and took you in his arms as you cried.

“it’s okay, love, you did the right thing. Don’t worry, ok? i’m here, i’ve got you.”

I feel like every time i post I’m apologizing for not being active, but i had a good reason this time😭

@caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukiswife @seung-mine @sungprotector @soephiphanymain @minnieslover@kjr-army @gingerblade @ebbaskz @nqvgue @sl6gszn @erisuna @jenniferzipsblog @broken-glowsticks @superiorbrownskinn @skzstaykatsy @laexoticlunatic @vrslvts1

not all of y’all are on my taglist but were some of the people asking for a part two so i hope you don’t mind, just wanted to make sure you saw it☺️

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hinakazino · 1 year

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The Uchiha Princess || Uchiha Family/Child!Reader

Summary: The third born child of the head of the Uchiha Clan, younger sister of Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha. You're the known princess of the Uchiha Clan! (That everyone may or may not have a protective side of.)

Warnings: None! Just Fluff!

mikoto

It was no secret really, Mikoto had really been hoping for a girl! So she was really happy to have you, her little princess.

Literally loves you, gives you the best of care.

Enjoys dressing you up or doing your hair (you look so cute and small in all those mini garments!!)

Honestly worried for awhile how you'd get along with your brothers or the clan, as it was mostly men.

Worries were quickly blown away though, who would dare hurt you?

fugaku

Super nervous dad, he was used to the two boys, yes. But a girl? He was already worrying himself over how things would work.

Secretly you’re his favorite, literally held you so softly like you were the most precious baby ever.

You were his precious girl, and he admits he may have spoiled you a bit more than he should've.

Doesn’t like the idea of boys, nope he isn’t agreeing to ANY arranged marriages!!

He also doesn't like admitting it, although he hopes you become a great strong kunoichi. The idea of sending you, of all people into the battle field frightens even him.

obito

The funny cousin, always comes over with treats just for you.

He just can’t stop poking at your chubby cheeks and practically squealed when he saw your stubby legs as you ran up to him.

Always makes sure to scoop you up and tell you plenty of his awful jokes. You love it anyway though! He loves hearing your giggle.

Enjoys closing his eyes as you trace over his scars in awe.

Heart throbs as you pecked his scarred cheek asking him whether he was okay and that you’d make the pain go away.

Literally the sweetest cousin ever, knows exactly what you like and spoils you whenever he is back from a mission.

shisui

The cousin you tell all your secrets to. (Who may or may not be secretly reporting to Itachi about it.)

Loves carrying you on his back, gives him sweet flashbacks of mini Itachi.

Is super dramatic with you, you both are like each others twins. He loves it whenever Sasuke and Itachi walk in completely bewildered at the play you guys have been acting.

You two are also pranksters, who have lots of fun pulling stuff on Sasuke, Itachi, and occasionally best of all, Obito.

Second most at poking at your cheek besides Obito too, vowed to protected you from evil at all costs.

itachi

Your big brother, who greatly inspires and motivates you. He is such a sweetheart!

He honestly has the same fear as his father because his life as a ninja hasn't been a walk in a rosy garden.

Can't describe it, he just loves you. Every time he is with you, he feels at peace.

Has been there for all of your tantrums, he is basically your comfort.

Knows best out of everyone how to take care of you. You're injured? Distract you with food, something you like, etc, to get rid of the pain as he treats you.

Sobbing cause you can't have something? He'll get it for you-- wait no his parents said no so he'll tell you maybe next time to make you forget.

sasuke

Was the most nervous out of everyone.

But greatly adores you because you look up to him, he feels noticed and appreciated whenever he is around you.

You love Sasuke because he understands you the most as you're both similar in age.

Playtime is always fun, and mainly with him. He always tries to bring new games, not just to entertain you both but also to keep you active. He shows his care in different ways!

When he got older he still made time for you, there was always a reserved soft spot for his little sister.

madara

You're his favorite Uchiha kid, and he isn't afraid to admit it.

He lets you play with his hair, he surprisingly didn't mind it. Honestly he loves your awe with it.

You spent a chunk of your time with him anyways since most of your other family members were busy so it wasn't before long you both developed a strong bond.

Out of everyone he deeply hopes you never experience war in your lifetime. He knows from personal experience, and it warms his heart that you're so innocent.

He teaches you a lot of things, madara knows a lot! From weapons and combat, all the way to gardening and game tactics. He's got to spend a lot of time having fun being the retired Uchiha.

#naruto #Uchiha clan #uchihas x reader #uchihas w/sister!reader #Sasuke x reader #Itachi x reader #Madara x reader #Shisui x reader #Obito x reader #mikoto uchiha #Uchiha family #fugaku uchiha

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koiiiiijiii · 2 months

Text

windbreaker characters as parents ༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

tw ; cuteness overload, contains character x character and character x reader

pairings ; min u x mia, shelly x jay jo, dom x reader, monster x reader, vinny x reader

౨ৎ let's start from min u and mia! proud parents of a girl and boy who are three years apart. girl is the older sister and goes along with her brother super well even through his puberty. mia is a great mother and her kids never hide anything from her as they know that they can trust her. mia and her daughter have their own "girls secrets" and side jokes, while min u and his son are super annoyed by it and tried to make their own side jokes, but girls always know its context. also, their grandad and auntie yuna spoil them so much!!! and also min u father are so proud of his son and he really likes mia. all in all 10/10 highly recommended to be born in this family.

౨ৎ shelly and jay. here things are more complicated because shelly parents insisted on them move in the UK during her pregnancy, but they decided to stay in Korea simply because shelly likes weather more and feel more comfortable there. life blessed them with a boy - a copy of his father. but he is a mummy's boy and he gets along with shelly more, even their son's first word was "mama!" when he happily squished shelly’s cheek with his small hands. with time, he builds more interests with jay’s hobbies, so till he hit his puberty he was such a sweet child. but when he turned 14? monster that going through "nobody understands me" era. sometimes jay wonders maybe he need to send his son to his mother so she will teach him some discipline, but then jay remembers that he doesn't want to give his child such trauma. by the way jay family calmed down the moment jay was accepted on the really well paid job and even his mother was proud that her son has international family. all in all 7/10 bc both jay and shelly parents would have a beef over who is better grandparents.

౨ৎ so i can imagine that dom would accept his father's business even tho he didn't insist. so you two were gifted with three daughters each with year apart. dom honestly wished his first would be a boy so he can grow up and protect his sisters, but fate had her own ideas. through your second pregnancy dom repeated that he would be happy for girl or boy, just healthy, strong child (he prayed for a boy), and you decided not to find out who you were going to have until the baby was born. and it was sweet, super calm girl. on third pregnancy dom really tried to have a boy (yes, he scrolled all that weird mums forums to find out in which pose you can conceive a boy). he has genuinely been surprised when doctor said you will have a girl. who was the happiest over the fact that he surrounded by girls? his father!! he loves all four of you, and dom suspect that his father loves you more than him. he definitely would call you daughter and generally he is super granddad and father-in-law. your daughters loves their granddad too!! imagine them cling to him from all sides, hanginig on his neck, arms and legs. generally girls goes along super good, but oldest and youngest are more close to their father as they share extrovert personality, while middle girl gets super along with you. dom are scared that they are growing up too fast and that in one day they will start dating b̴̨̢̰͖̂ͫͨ̒ͦͩơ̷̧̢̛̤̠̻͔̤̖̳͖̥̼̲̮̥̣̼̮̂̽̓ͮ͆̉ͩ͆ͣͧ̿ͫ́͋ͩ̏̚̕̚͜͞y̶̢͎̜̬͖̩̰̬̞̓͌̽͆̈́̉̑ͨ̂ͧ͌̌̇̅͗͌͘͜͟s̶̸̢͉͙͈̳̻̣̲͔̜̩ͮ̌̃̄̄̓̍̽͌̈́͑́͑ͩ͟͠͝ 💀☠️ all in all 9/10 dom vibes with his favourite girls but one one stingy male tear drops when he sees fathers play baseball with their sons (he was hitted in the nose with a ball from his youngest daughter)

౨ৎ when you and deokbong announced that you will have a child, people were... curious - how?? how you would be able to carry his child since you look so small in comparison to him. and you know what? it was twin boys... the birth was difficult but you did it and then you faced new challenge - both boys was copy of their father and they was heavy. you prayed for your back, seriously, but deokbong is super supportive husband and father so he was always there to help you. thankfully your boys were calm. like literally they always had serious faces, fists clenched and almost never cried. with time your younger one maintained your character and more of your features showed, like brows and nose form, cheeks, and face shape. all in all 10/10 you four would be happy simple sport family!!

౨ৎ vinny hong refuse to have children. end of headcanon.

but seriously, vinny had huge trauma from his father and from bulling in school, he will never be sure that he is enough as financially and emotionally for kids, so you two are proud parents of one big dog, maybe doberman or cane corso and lazy cat. all in all 7/10 just because there are too much wool at home and vinny refuse to go on a walk with dog in the early morning.

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inoreuct · 6 months

Text

alternate universe where zoro isn't a swordsman or an actor but in fact a secret third thing (A LULULEMON AMBASSADOR)

okay maybe not lululemon specifically but if it was it’d be hilarious. any athleisure brand, honestly; sanji’s there as a leggings model and there’s talk of a new sports bra model coming in for their next shoot and he’s like oh!! a lovely lady!! that’s wonderful!! and he makes his best chewy chocolate chip cookies (with 60% cacao because he’s cultured) and brings them to the studio— but the new model happens to be late, so sanji’s wandering around on break with his cookies and hoping to be the first one to welcome them before he turns a corner and someone SLAMS into him.

he’s nearly knocked off his feet and he barely manages to keep the container of cookies from going flying because it feels like he just collided with a brick wall. the person grabs his waist to steady him, one hand on his hip and the other around his back, and he feels his tupperware bump against their jaw as his hands scrabble to find purchase on their shoulders.

once his brain's realised that he, in fact, isn't falling and eating shit, sanji looks up and freezes.

grey eyes and green hair and tan skin, long, long lashes, a strong nose and low-set brows and oh, he's so close. sanji's breath catches as fingertips press gently into the side of his ribcage—

and he squawks as he's dropped unceremoniously to the floor, whipping his head around so furiously his neck cracks as the guy just steps over his legs and keeps on walking.

"hey!" sanji shouts, climbing to his feet as he tries to ignore the way he's flushing with anger and something-else-he-will-not-name-please-fuck-off. "who the hell do you think you are?!"

the guy turns back, looking almost bored as he drones, "an employee."

"what, they hired you to haul equipment?" sanji scoffs, and his stomach sinks when the guy flashes him a grin that's sharp enough around the edges to look dangerous.

"no. i'm modelling the new sports bra collection."

and oh. sanji has to put a hand on the wall so he doesn't sit right back down as the guy walks out of view. this can't be happening. he's gonna jump right off the fucking roof.

he stress-eats all his cookies, fuming mad and pacing a groove into the floor, and he’s still licking crumbs off the corners of his mouth as he storms back onto the set. zoro’s already standing there, sports bra on and arms up as the staff fuss around him, making adjustments and asking him about the fit, and sanji’s eye is twitching. that is not a lovely lady. that is an OGRE.

(who just so happens to have muscles for days and the nicest chest sanji’s ever seen in his life BUT THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT.)

and of course they start bickering almost immediately.

this guy’s an athlete, not a model. he’s stiff and stubborn and coarse and sanji learns his name is roronoa zoro, some hotshot kendo champion who’s only here because my sister signed me up, so you can blame her for ruining your day, your majesty, and ooooooh. sanji wants to kick him. sanji wants to kick him so bad.

zoro thinks sanji’s some sort of spoiled pompous brat (honestly at the moment he’s acting like one, he is self-aware, but it’s his defense mechanism okay??) and sanji can’t stand all the snide under-breath snark that zoro’s slipping him after every sentence. they have to film zoro running to prove that the sports bra actually works and sanji pretends to trip and faceplant so he has an excuse for his nosebleed.

they pause the shoot for the day after that; sanji’s off like a rocket and clearly avoiding people so why is the mosshead following him. he speedwalks to the carpark with zoro stuck right to his side and gets progressively faster until he can hop on his bike and pedal away and then zoro starts RUNNING next to him?? and sanji’s like HOW ARE YOU KEEPING UP. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU and he’s pedalling as fast as he can and at this point even zoro’s a little out of breath and he gasps “GO OUT WITH ME” and sanji jams on the breaks so hard he nearly flies off his damn bicycle.

“what.” it’s the first thing that’s out of his mouth. they’ve skidded to a stop in the middle of some small side street; zoro’s earrings are chiming against each other, and the thought that they sound surprisingly sweet crosses sanji’s mind. “what.”

“go out with me,” zoro repeats, hands on his hips as his chest heaves.

sanji blinks. “why?” they’ve been nothing but animous towards each other thus far, and he likes to think that most of his dates actually like him.

the green-haired man shrugs a shoulder. “dunno. i’ve got a good feeling.”

“a good feeling,” sanji echoes, caught between disbelief and some sort of alarmingly fond disdain. “guess everybody’s gotta depend on something, huh, algae-brain?”

zoro just stares at him and says nothing.

“…oh, alright, fine!” sanji yells, throwing his hands into the air. “unbelievable. i can’t believe i’m doing this. seven o’clock, makino’s pizza, and do not,” he hisses, leaning in as he jabs a finger into zoro’s sternum, “be late.”

(zoro is late. sanji refuses to admit he’s disappointed for the entire thirty-seven (not that he'd been counting) minutes he waits, poking unenthusiastically at his milkshake and cursing this stupid guy for playing what was probably a stupid mean joke on him and cursing himself for falling for it.)

(at minute thirty-eight, zoro bursts through the door red-faced, rain-soaked, gripping a bottle of wine by the neck and raking his sodden hair off his forehead. the bell's not even done ringing before he's found sanji and is sliding into the opposite side of the booth seat.)

"sorry," he breathes, leaning against the backrest as he catches his breath. “i got lost.”

sanji’s too warm with the relief rushing through him to ream him out. “is that wine?”

“uh, yeah.” zoro sets the bottle on the table and turns it so the label faces away. “my dad owns a vineyard.”

sanji reads the thin cursive font, looks up at zoro as his eyes go wide, and reads it again. “your dad’s dracule mihawk? he’s one of zeff’s oldest suppliers, how did i never…”

the other man huffs a laugh. “adoptive, which explains the the lack of family resemblance. both me and my sister perona.”

“oh my god. the famous paranormal blogger perona.”

“mhm.”

sanji blinks twice before shaking himself out of it, taking a big gulp of his milkshake. “your family’s wild.”

“tell me about it,” zoro chuckles, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. the hems of his pant legs are dripping onto the floor. “how ‘bout you? anybody i’d know in your family tree?”

“well,” sanji begins, thinking. “my dad’s red leg zeff. runs the Baratie?”

“the seafood place? my best friend’s there every week!”

“no.” sanji’s starting to grin as he sits forward. “blinding smile, bottomless stomach, scar on his left cheek—”

“yeah!” zoro exclaims, and it suddenly hits sanji that this guy really does have a dangerous smile because if he keeps laughing like that, well. he doesn’t want to let himself hope quite yet. “damn. how come we’ve never met sooner?”

sanji shrugs eloquently. “wrong timing, maybe.”

it’s quiet for a while after that. they order a pizza to share and a side of cheese fries, and sanji is equal parts impressed and disgusted when zoro manages to shove an entire slice in his mouth at one go by rolling it up. they talk and bicker and joke and sanji ends up laughing so hard he’s rendered mute and slipping off the bench.

when the hiccups die down, he pushes himself up with one hand and sighs. “seriously, though. why?” why are we here? why’d you want to do this?

he doesn’t need to elaborate, though. zoro shifts back against the cracked cushions and tilts his head. “has any ever been able to keep up with you?”

"...no," sanji says quietly, and he can't help the hurt that stings hot and aching in his stomach. the shame that one word carries makes his face warm because he knows, he knows he's a lot sometimes— he’s been told as much by so many exes that he can’t even count them.

he knows zoro clocks the mood shift by the way the other man suddenly looks like he’s floundering a little, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he finally says, the words soft and a little rushed, and he doubles down when sanji flashes him a smile that’s more empty than anything else. “not at all. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to keep up with me.”

and sanji… doesn’t know what to make of that.

he drains the rest of his milkshake and slides out of his seat. “let’s get out of here.”

the park is mostly empty this late, and sanji snags the bottle out of zoro’s hands. cuts the foil with his house keys and works the cork out, moving to stuff it into his coat pocket before zoro gently takes it from him. it’s a red wine, rich and smooth, and it goes down easy; almost too easy. sanji’s home is a walk away and he can drink as much as he damn well wants.

it’s not logical, how he’s feeling right now. zoro had already clarified what he’d meant. and still it simmers in his gut, sour and cold, a feeling that makes him lift the bottle to his lips again. too much. always too much. too much love, too overbearing, how do you expect anybody to keep up, sanji? you’re too much. he goes in for another swig.

zoro’s hand wraps over his. “hey.”

irritation flares behind sanji’s teeth before guilt snuffs it out. the other man’s gnawing at his lip, slowly shifting the bottle down as they stop walking. “i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean to upset you,” zoro mutters, looking genuinely worried, and sanji’s next breath in aches.

“no, it’s— i’m sorry. i’m sorry. this is supposed to be a date,” he laughs weakly, digging his fingers into glass to try and ground himself. “and i’m drinking up all the wine.”

“it’s for you,” zoro rebuts, nudging him with a shoulder. “you’re supposed to be drinking it.”

he doesn’t. they start walking again, the wet cobbled path dappled by light shining through the trees, and sanji tucks the bottle against his front as he loops his arm through zoro’s. “this is a first for me, y’know,” he says, squeezing zoro’s bicep. “i promise i’m not usually this rude.”

“says the man who called me a badly-planted cabbage patch this afternoon,” zoro snorts, and sanji can’t help but laugh. “seriously, though, s’alright. i get it. we all have our sore spots; i just hadn’t gotten the chance to learn about yours.”

sanji pinches his lips together. that, right there— zoro is rough around the edges but he is kind. he stops where it counts. sanji had shown the slightest sign of discomfort and he’d stopped pushing. it’s bold, and crazy, and completely out of line in his own personal rulebook— but zoro doesn’t move away when sanji tips his head onto his shoulder, so sanji swallows to clear his throat.

“do you want it?”

zoro’s lashes cast long shadows on his cheeks as they flutter, and he looks down. “hm?”

“the chance.” it’s a little chilly out; sanji’s coat is enough, but he lets himself curl closer to the warmth radiating through zoro’s padded jacket. it cuts through the dampness that’s still not quite gone. “do you want it?”

zoro’s eyes flick over his face, widening imperceptibly when he realises that sanji’s serious, and the smile that pulls at his mouth is a slow, beautiful thing.

he presses his cheek to sanji’s hair. they’re both smiling when he takes the wine bottle and drinks.

(sanji makes more cookies when they have their next shoot. 70% cacao this time after he learns that zoro can’t stand sweet things, and he teases the shit out of the man about it being relative to both his taste in food and his taste in people.)

(zoro finishes the last crumb, very firmly tells sanji that he is wrong, and kisses him so thoroughly he goes light-headed.)

(and if some of the staff see them canoodling behind the water cooler, well. the chocolate sanji wipes off his mouth is the only evidence.)

#this stems entirely from a brainworm i had with @redgitanako #and then she DREW me zoro in a sports bra and it just spiraled like it always does #zosan #one piece #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #zoro #FOR ONCE IT’S NOT PAST MIDNIGHT #ino writes

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lolahauri · 3 months

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Take All of Me

Ship: Statue of Ares/Reader (Fornite Kneeling Statue from Tiktok)

Type: Smut, GN/M, One Shot, Porn with Plot. (MDNI)

Contains: Sex with a God, Deep Throating, Rough Oral Sex, No Penetration, Mild Dubcon, Power Dynamic, Size Kink, Statue Comes (to life)

Words: 1.8k

Requested?: Kinda...

You were walking through a crowded pine forest, not exactly sure where you were going anymore, but it was too late to turn around now. You’ve been searching for the mythical Statue of Ares, said to bless any warrior lucky enough to find him. Was is it even real? You wanted to believe so. Despite the amount of men and women alike who’d vanished trying to find him, you wanted to believe. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt an almost magnetic draw to the god.

But it’d been three days at this point, trudging through the mud and grass, looking for any sign of the shrine. It was believed that leading to his statue, a path of torches would lead directly to him, lit purely from the energy of his warriors spirit.

You were breathing heavily, exhausted but trying to maintain your speed. Things were looking hopeless though, the sun had already set for the third time, you were running low on rations, and you were pretty sure you were just walking in circles now. Maybe this was a mistake, a delusion you should have never fed into. You were going to die like the hundreds before you, alone in the woods, looking for an urban legend. This was just how it was meant to end, i suppose...

“Shit!” you yelped and gasped out loud, nearly landing face-first into the ground, just barely catching yourself by your forearms. You couldn’t see what you tripped over just yet, but you didn’t have to wonder for long.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you saw sparks of orange and yellow light flickering from the forest floor. As you got onto your knees, you couldn’t believe it. Is this some kind of hallucination? Were you about to die soon? Hopefully it happens quickly.

Two parallel rows of torches flickered and danced wildly, now creating a lit path right in front of you. It seemed to be leading to a clearing about 50 feet ahead. You stood up, legs shaking and heart racing. Stumbling down the path and into the clearing, any thoughts occupying your mind seemed to vanish, a new energy was taking you over. A strong, warm energy.

The clearing was just in front of you now, a circular patch of untouched grass, surrounded by elderly trees and lit torches. Despite it being the middle of the night, it was almost light over there, you would’ve thought the sun was just beginning to set if you hadn’t seen what the rest of the woods looked like.

Fireflies were dancing in the air as you stepped foot into the secret area. Your nerves were beginning to settle now, but your body still trembled. You could see the statues figure now, the outline of a tall, muscular spartan soldier becoming more clear.

You could feel your heart pounding through your entire body as you got closer, just a few meters away from him. You were embarrassed to think so, but he was honestly gorgeous. He had to be at least 7 feet tall standing up, with a set of six-pack abs, and a body that looked like it was hand-crafted by the universe herself.

Standing right in front of his legs now, you carefully reached forward to place a hand on his torso, not really sure what you were supposed to do now. But you immediately jumped back as the statue began to emit crackling sounds.

Did you really just break the fucking statue?

You tried your hardest to stay calm, praying you didn’t just do what you thought you did. This must be normal right? You barely touched it…

Pieces of stone were chipping off as the ground shook. Looking closer though, you realized the statue wasn’t just crumbling, it was uncovering something. Well, more like uncovering some one…

Chunks of rock were flying off now, just narrowly passing by you. The light tan color of his skin much more visible. Ares started to stand, cracking the remaining stone that encased his toned body, letting it pile onto the ground below him.

You looked up in awe, so entranced that you didn’t even realize he was looking right at you now. A smug grin was spread across his strong face as he gazed down at your small frame. You were somewhat snapped out of your trance as his deep, booming voice spoke out to you.

“Ah, so you’ve found me.” he stretched his limbs, sore from the thousands of years he was trapped, “I never thought I'd see the day…”

Your words were trapped in your throat, distracted again by his large chest, which was just above your eye-level. A warm tingling sensation flooded your body as you heard him chuckle above you. He was amused, but not surprised, by your lingering stares.

“Um…” was the most you could manage to get out at this point, lower stomach becoming hot. You hoped he would carry this conversation instead.

Unfortunately for you, he knew exactly what was going through your mind. Not that he minded at all, he knew he was gorgeous, he never expected a mere human like you to be anything but awestruck by him and his presence.

“I take it you’re nervous, aren’t you?” he laughed again as he saw your cheeks turn pink, “Don’t worry, young warrior, just hand me the offering and i will give you what you were searching for.”

Your stomach dropped and your blood ran cold after hearing this. “Wait, what? What offering? I never heard anyone mention that!” This can’t be happening…

Your mouth was hung open as your eyes darted around the area in a panic, you had no idea what to do. You’d come all this way just to learn you couldn’t receive the blessing? This must just be some kind of horrible nightmare, right?

“Well?” he was leaning over slightly, looking you in the face.

“I, um, I don’t have an offering…” shame washed over you as you attempted to make eye contact. “I swear, my lord, I had no idea that was necessary! I would’ve brought something if I knew!”

He raised an eyebrow at your remarks, leaning back upwards. “Very well, then. You should get on your way back home then, soldier.”

“Wait!” you pleaded, grabbing his forearm as he began to turn away “Please, Ares my lord, I’ll do anything!”

He was a bit shocked by your actions, looking down at you in surprise. But as he saw that desperate look in your eyes, an idea came to him. “Hm, anything, you say?” a mischievous smile covered his face.

“Yes! Anything, really.” you nodded quickly, not knowing what he was really implying.

He thought about it for a moment longer, before deciding that he knew exactly what you could offer him instead. “Alright... On your knees, then.”

“Wait, what?” you thought to yourself, heat pooling in your core. Did you hear that right? He smirked at your expression, he kind of liked how shy you were being, as if you weren’t just eye-fucking him a few minutes prior.

“You said you would do anything, did you not?” his hands trailed to his skirt after seeing you nod your head, loosening it and letting it drop to his feet. “Go ahead, then. Give it all you got.”

You could feel yourself getting wet already as you looked at his cock. It was fully erect, at least 9 inches, and thick. You looked up at him one more time, seeing from his expression that he was waiting for you to do something already.

You slowly knelt down, sitting high up on your knees, your face just inches away from his throbbing cock. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his tip, bringing up a hand to start stroking his shaft.

He sighed above you, “Don’t tease, now.”

You nodded, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the aching pressure building up. Quickly putting the first few inches in your mouth, you swirled your tongue around his tip and bobbed your head, trying to adjust to the first couple inches before you dared to go further.

Ares’ head was thrown back a bit, deep groans flowing past his lips. He can’t deny how much it riles him up seeing how small you look from this angle, struggling to take his massive cock.

You pushed further down, allowing yourself to take in over half of his length. As it began to hit the back of your tongue, you tried hard not to gag, eyes watering a bit as you continued to suck, jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet.

“You’re doing so well, dear. Keep going for me.” his tone was more gentle than before. He weaved his large fingers through the strands of your hair as he pushed your head down even further.

Your hands gripped onto his thick thighs tightly. It probably shouldn’t have even been possible, but you were now throating his entire length. It stuffed every bit of your mouth, causing drool to spill down your chin. Your eyes were flowing with tears from the way he was making you choke, but you loved it.

He kept his hand behind your head, fully taking control. He was completely fucking your throat now, his other hand cupping the side of your face as he slid himself in and out of you.

What was happening now was truly pornographic. Mascara was running down your cheeks, and all that could be heard now was your gargled moans. You looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his chiseled form. He locked eyes with you briefly, groaning loudly at the scene below.

Though you honestly didn’t want to stop, your jaw was becoming painfully sore. But thankfully for you, he could feel himself steadily reaching his climax.

Soon enough, his hips stuttered a bit. Giving a few more pumps, he shoved himself all the way back down your throat as he painted it white with his cum. You gagged hard at the feeling of him harshly stuffing you full, a mildly salty taste coating your mouth. He kept in place for a moment, coming down from his high.

You were gasping for breathe when he finally pulled out, swallowing any leftover cum in the process. You wiped your spit-covered mouth with your shirt sleeve and attempted to get off the ground. Noticing you were shaky and stumbling as you tried to stand, Ares picked you up by waist and set you down on a nearby log. You still looked dazed and totally cock drunk.

He chuckled at the sight, “You did amazing, dear. Here,” - he handed you a brown satchel. It was filled with little bottles of sparkling blue liquid - “you earned it.”

#fortnite #ares #statue of ares #x reader #smut #one shot #not my screenshot #ares x reader #ares smut

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