I Would Have Booped You My Brother, My Captain, My King

Happy birthday to my male wife. He means so much to me you don’t get it

I made this during finals and set it as my laptop background for motivation and it WORKS

no need to be brutal

||  getou suguru x reader || T || hurt/comfort ||  wc: 4.6k || ao3  ||

There’s no need to be cruel to yourself. Suguru reminds you of this.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: hurt/comfort with suguru!! AU where everyone lives/nobody dies. no spoilers! just some happy, jujutsu tech moments. student is a student, prolly a third year but its unspecified. 

warnings: unhealthy coping with drugs and alcohol, reader’s body size is referenced (wearing getou’s clothes, being picked up, etc) 

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Home is Where the Heart is (That Heart Just Won't Stop Racing)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: pretty much none/the same as the first one. Has strong d/s themes but in a very soft, entirely sfw way. Mostly just fluff and emotional hurt/comfort.

Summary: unplanned sequel to Too Much (Take Me Home), reader works up the guts to ask for a repeat performance and Sanji takes on the responsibility of fixing a human piece of fine china. Starting with their aversion to compliments.

Disclaimer(s): none that I can really think of? Reader is called 'puppy' again numerous times but again, in a sfw context. Reader is very briefly referred to as a "lady" in reference to Sanji being a fucking simp, but other than that it is very gender neutral. But definitely keep that line in mind if it might trigger any nasty feelings for y'all, stay safe!!! <3

Since that night, things had been rather normal between you two. Eerily normal.

He's sure it's some mix of the genuine bond the two of you have keeping your interactions mostly the same and your awkward embarrassment- which he's happy to say he's getting to see more often nowadays, especially any time the events of that night are alluded to.

The fidgeting hands, the faint blush, the avoiding eye contact and trying to look serious with a "yeah, whatever" completely devoid of any of the intimidation it attempts.

He doesn't mind, though. The return to normalcy gives him time to plan his next move. He knows that this is delicate, something he will have to take strategically. And, okay, yeah. He's been thinking about it. Of course he doesn't actually stop thinking about it, how could he!? Instead, the break gives him time to come up with new ideas, prepare for the next time you eventually ask him for that type of help.

He waits patiently for the next time you seek him out, knowing there would be one at some point.

Even so, the anticipation kills him. He wants desperately to hear what you want from him in your own words. He knows it's something to do with his approval. The more he thinks about it, the more it seems like it's about approval in general. Though a selfish part of him wants to think that his specifically has some particular sway.

It was obvious the first time how hard it was for you to accept his affectionate words and approval even when you wanted to, and he knew that was something it would take a while to work out of you. The righteous self-reliance, the lingering feeling you didn't deserve soft things. Thoughts so deeply embedded for so long would take work to undo.

So when you come to him shyly one night, wordlessly offering up his ring in the palm of your hand as you refuse to meet his eyes, he knows what he wants to try.

He feels that familiar fluttering in his chest when you offer the ring back in silence. He can tell by your expression that there's so much going through your head, and that it has something to do with what happened that night when you asked him to take the responsibility for making you feel small.

"You wanna tell me something, puppy?"

His voice is soft and expression patient, like he's already working to create that warm, safe atmosphere that made you so pliant before.

The subtle use of the pet name tells you he knows exactly what you want, that he remembers that night as vividly at you do. But the gentle, hopeful uncertainty in his voice tells you he needs your words to know this is okay.

Your words are barely a whisper as an embarrassed blush burns up your face.

"I...want to- to be able to-" Your words are barely a whisper as an embarrassed blush burns up your face. "...let me submit to you again. Please."

His heart melts at your words, the way they shift and stutter. You always seem to change your wording when asking for things - "let me" and "can I" instead of "I want" (or god forbid need) - like it's shameful for you to want anything at all.

"Of course, love."

He answers softly, putting down his drink and closing the book that had been resting open in his hand, setting it down on the end table next to the couch. He keeps his legs open enough to give you a space to sit between them in his lap, gesturing his head towards himself in calling.

"C'mere."

You blush and look down, still avoiding his eyes as you nod and slowly pad towards him, nervous, embarrassed energy radiating from you as you drop to your knees at his feet like the last time.

Though the sight is just as gorgeous as it was then, he shakes his head softly with a click of his tongue, having something else in mind. He holds one of his hands out for you to take, the other cupping your cheek and caressing the skin comfortingly with his thumb.

"Not this time, puppy."

He chides lightly, voice soft and without even a hint of chastising for your assumption, pure care and warmth and fondness in his smile as he pats his lap gently.

"Up here."

Your flush darkens at the idea of being that close but you do it anyway - of course you do, perfect, obedient little thing that you are - climbing onto the couch until you're situated in between his legs, studying his tie with an intensity that gives away your shy desire to look anywhere other than his face right now.

He smiles sweetly, his hands resting on your thighs when you sit in his lap. His gaze is soft and sweet, as if looking down on a child. His voice is warm, talking to you like something precious.

"No need to be nervous, love. But I'm gonna have to ask you to look at me this time, okay?"

His gaze stays soft, as if he isn't expecting an answer from you, his hands moving to your cheek as he tilts your head up.

You go willingly, letting him tilt your head up to face him with two fingers under your jaw, his thumb gently pressed to your chin so he can angle your face as he pleases. Your face is pink and you're obviously still having trouble with eye contact, especially in a position as vulnerable as this, but he can see that you're trying.

And that's all he'd ever ask of you anyway.

Now that you're looking at him, all up close and personal like he'd planned, he can start his real plan for the evening- to start rewiring those frustratingly selfless parts of your brain, get you accustomed to praise and love and care and reassurance and the fact that you deserve all of it until he starves that horribly anxious, self-hating part of you out.

"Look at me, puppy."

He can't help but chuckle fondly when you instinctively turn to look away, turning you back to face him. He does it so gently, not scolding you for it whenever you look away, instead turning you back patiently each and every time. You almost want him to get mad at you, but his expression is the same every time he turns you to face him- never-ending patience.

"That's it, good. Just like that."

His fingers stroke against your cheek again soothingly, his gaze holding yours in place.

The lack of any anger or annoyance or exasperation makes your chest feel all fluttery while at the same time burning your face with guilt- this is all too good for you, Sanji is entirely too good for you.

He can practically see the thought process on your face, not that it surprises him. After all, that's what he'd set out to start fixing tonight, planning to slowly work away that reflex each time you give him the gift of letting him put you under like this.

"Listen to me, alright love?" He smiles once more and moves his free hand to your knee to give it a gentle squeeze. "I'll be saying a lot of words, and all I need you to do is listen and keep your eyes on me. D'you think you can do that for me?"

He speaks slowly, softly, so that you can still keep up even if you space out once or twice. His gentle tone is reassuring, as if everything's okay and would continue to be as long as you keep looking into his eyes.

You sigh breathlessly at the pet names and the gentle tone of voice and the way he touches you like you're made of porcelain, fragile and precious and expensive. You swallow before feeling yourself nod, managing to mumble out a quiet, shy-

"...okay."

He grins at your agreement, all warm and fond and proud of himself - proud of you, maybe, you can't tell. It almost makes you nauseous.

"Good. This is gonna be a long talk, alright? I'm gonna tell you a lot of things, and I expect you to remember them. You need to listen, love. Is that understood?"

You nod your head wordlessly in obedience, the slight firmness to his gentle tone and the commands that come with it making it so easy to melt into this. The instruction that he expects you to remember, that you need to listen making your mind go hazy with the bliss of simplicity- no choice, no confusion, no control, simply following instructions for someone you know will always take care of you.

He pats your cheek lightly, his voice soothing and sweet as he begins talking.

"You do everything you can for other people. You do everything you can for me. And it's not that that's bad or even that you don't want to. But you let other people get away with so much more than you'd ever let yourself. You make excuses for us, but for yourself you're harsh and you're critical and you're never satisfied. It's not fair."

When he starts talking, the first few things he says make your brow crease in confusion. He watches a brief flicker of panic spark in your eyes when you realize what he's doing, that he wants you to sit and look at him and listen as he praises you and reassures you and says things far too nice to possibly be true. You feel raw and exposed under the intensity of his words and yet...you stay. You trust him enough, want to be good for him enough that you breathe through the panic, trying to relax into the words that threaten to make you flinch.

His breath hitches in his chest seeing the anxiety in your eyes. Your trust for him is overwhelming, and he feels his heart swell with gratitude.

"So perfect... I'm proud of you for trusting me, sweetheart. I have a lot more I want to tell you, alright? Can you look at me again, so I know you're still listening to me?"

You sniffle lightly and nod, looking back up at him though you feel positively flayed alive by the words "I'm proud of you". When you look back up at him your eyes are glassy, a mix of the glazed-over look of subspace and unshed tears.

He thinks he's never seen anything so precious.

Eventually, he promises himself, whether it takes days or weeks or months of sessions like this, he's going to get you to a point where simple praise like this doesn't leave you trembling and teary-eyed.

But for now, he lets himself enjoy just how stunning you look like this.

He can feel you trembling underneath him, but he doesn't bother to move his hands from your thighs to hold you steady. He figures it isn't needed if he keeps talking slow and steady. His thumb gently brushes away one of your tears, and he pouts at how quickly you're overwhelmed by praise with fond sympathy.

"Oh, precious. You're doing so well for me, love. You're being so patient, and you're doing exactly what I asked you to do. You're so good, sweetheart."

The gentle feeling of his touch - how lovingly he caresses you, the rhythm steady and slow as he brushes his thumb across your cheek - you drag in a breath as well as you can, the air feeling like it rasps through your throat and gets stuck in your lungs. You part your lips as if to say something but the words won't come, only a tiny wounded noise, barely audible even in the unbearable quiet.

Despite yourself you shiver- "doing so well, precious, exactly what I asked, patient, sweetheart, good", the words nothing but sugar when he speaks. For a moment, despite his instructions, you close your eyes. You have to - it's too much, not enough, you can't tell anymore - but to his heart-rending pride, you open them again after a shaky, steadying breath.

He smiles at you, his heart aching at how precious you are in this moment.

"Good job, love. You can do this...you're doing so well. I know it's hard, but there's so much more I want you to hear."

He pauses, and for a moment you think fearfully that he's going to say he loves you. Not that that would be a bad thing.

...shit, you didn't really just think that, did you? That- that it wouldn't be bad? If he-?

In any case, it wouldn't be good for your pride. You know yourself, at least. That's one thing you could say, you were self-aware. And if Sanji ever said anything like that to you, you know you'd cry. Thankfully, that's not what he says. What he says instead is sweet, just not in the way you thought it would be.

"Can you be good and keep your eyes on me, sweetheart? If it's too much, or if you need a break, all you have to is tell me, alright?"

You sniffle quietly and do your best to blink back the tears, nodding your head in a slow affirmation of both of his questions. If you need a break, tell him. Keep your eyes up. You want so desperately - and isn't that another problem in itself, that you want - to tell him that you're trying, you're trying so hard, you want to be good.

You've never been very good with eye-contact, even without the added discomfort of being seen like this, being praised like something special, something entirely too soft and gentle and sweet for a warrior.

His free hand caresses your face, moving back the strands of hair that hang over your eyes. He can see how hard this is for you, in the way you hold your breath in between swallows, the shake of your voice, your trembling hands clasped in your lap. The way you look up at him.

But you're trying. Really, you are. And you don't need to say it - though you try to do that too before discovering that talking is too much right now - he knows. Of course he knows. Sweet, obedient, desperate-to-be-good-puppy, who's never done anything else but try your best for him.

"Puppy...I know you're trying. I know how hard it is for you. But I also know you like it, at least a little bit. Or maybe a lot. Maybe that's why you're still sitting here?"

Your face floods with pink at the words and it's hard to follow his instructions, it's so hard, your immediate reflex to that kind of embarrassment is to look away, pretend you don't notice how his eyes catch on your blush and his lips pull into a smirk.

But you don't.

Somehow, somehow, you keep your eyes trained to his.

That is why you're still here, of course. You do like it - a lot, in fact - though sometimes you desperately wish you didn't. Just like the (ignored) desire to look away, this too is a reflex- the way you bend towards praise and reassurance like flame to a pan or water to the ground.

His smirk falters and his expression softens.

"Oh love, that was so good. Keeping your eyes on me like that when I know it's hard for you...for a moment there I was afraid you'd let me do something you didn't want. I know how good the praise feels to you. Even if you want to pretend you're a warrior who's never wanted something so lovely."

He teases playfully, voice sweet and loving.

It's far too close to the truth when he speaks - you had tried for so long to convince yourself that you didn't want anything this lovely, but then all of a sudden it was here and your heart ached and for the first time you noticed it, because this time Sanji was here.

Here and real and solid and warm and right in front of you.

Sanji who wanted nothing more than to take care of his crew. Sanji who worked and labored tirelessly to keep your little family together. Sanji who had never treated you as anything less than a miracle. Sanji who took care of you.

It was the first time you ever even considered you could have something like this, the hope that you'd tried to smother increasing tenfold when Sanji joined them because it turns out it's so much easier to want something when you can see it right in front of you.

His fingers stroke your jaw gently, voice filled with affection.

"There's so much to want in life, love. Just because you've never wanted them before doesn't mean you can't start. Just because you didn't know what to do with it when you first had it doesn't mean you can never learn what it means to have something."

He tilts your face upwards gently, brushing his fingers against your cheek lovingly. And then, quietly-

"...you have all of us. You have me. And you have the right to want me. And you do, don't you?"

"Please."

Is all you can answer, immediate and breathless and mumbled as your bottom lip trembles. It's hard to explain how you're feeling- it isn't bad, isn't anything you don't enjoy, it's just so much. It's so much to be allowed to want, allowed to be good, to be touched like something gentle rather than a weapon. It makes every muscle in your body seem to shift and relax, everything going loose and pliable even as light shivers wrack through you.

"Good, love. Just be like this for me as long as you want. You're doing so well."

He pats your thigh affectionately, his gaze staying soft as his other hand comes to caress the back of your neck. You can feel his gaze on you, his smile.

For a moment he lets the words sit, giving you time in the silence to absorb them.

"...I think I've managed to say all that I need to say for now. Unless you think there's something else we need to talk about."

When you don't say anything he smiles softly, shaking his head.

"Okay. That was a lot for you for one day, yeah? You can close your eyes now, love, if it helps."

You let go of a sigh of relief you didn't even know was in you when he gives you permission to close your eyes, immediately shutting them as you try to calm down, focus on just his words and his touch.

He has no reservations about playing it safe from here- he knows he's pushed you pretty hard already. So he sticks with basic praises, the ones he knows don't mess with your head so much. The 'such a good puppy' and 'precious little thing, you're so perfect like this' that work to turn your brain off and let you shut down, washing over you in gentle waves as opposed to the overwhelming words he'd been using before.

Your breathing was quick and shallow, and he could feel your heart racing. That doesn't stop his fingers from stroking your face softly, caressing you lovingly.

It hits you that for the first time in a long time, you feel safe. You feel completely safe, don't you? You'd forgotten what that felt like.

Maybe it had been too long.

His hand moves from your head down to the back of your neck, giving it a soft massage.

"We can talk about some more important things tomorrow, yeah? But for now...just let me take care of you."

You nod with a hum when he practically pleads to be allowed to take care of you, letting your eyes stay closed as one of his hands massages your shoulder lightly, the other scratching at the sweet spot behind your ear that he found last time. You'll be good for him, so good for him, sitting there without breaking eye contact while he praises you. He intends to completely spoil you with affection and touch in reward.

Like exposure therapy. Getting you used to hearing things like that through positive reinforcement and slow, gradual steps.

"Can I ask you a question, love? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

You nods slowly, head already staring to feel heavy. It's quicker slipping into subspace this time, he assumes from immediately coming off of such an overwhelming amount of praise and all of a sudden you're just falling, nothing to tether you to solid ground.

And you're...okay with it.

Just like last time, the easy submissive haze you fall into makes his heart melt.

You're happy after all that just to sink into him, to melt in his lap and let your thoughts go, let someone else take care of you for a change.

"Why do you insist on taking care of everyone? You're the one who takes the worst jobs on the crew, and I know most of it is just so you can spend time with us, but why do you always do it?"

He can feel your body sink into his as your weight leans against him, snuggling into his chest. He keeps his voice gentle and slow to not startle you, his fingers moving to your hair and running through it as if to encourage you to answer.

And, really, who are you to deny him anything?

Even if you know - and you know, of course you do - that the one, honest answer you have won't be the one he wants.

"Wanna be useful. So you'll be proud."

You admit quietly, voice soft and mumbled as your words slur together, sweet and right and perfect despite the way his heart drops to his stomach at the answer.

"...and- 'nd so you guys keep me around."

He draws in a shaky, gasped breath, though he tries for your sake not to make it too obvious.

He knew, he thinks. Even from the beginning. He knew that's what you would say. Even though he hoped - and god, did he hope, a hope beyond hope like nothing he'd ever felt before - that he would be wrong. His voice trembles when he finally convinces himself to speak, trying not to be sick.

"So we keep you around?"

He pauses, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair as he waits for you to respond. He needs to hear it. No matter what you say, no matter how much it kills him, he needs to hear you say it.

"You're just-"

You swallow and look away as your cheeks color in an even deeper pink, not sure why you're getting so choked up about this.

Actually, that's a lie. You know exactly why- because when you keep feelings like this one buried, it's easier to pretend they're not there. But saying it...saying it makes it real.

"...you're all so affectionate. And- and love-y. I just-"

You force yourself to draw in another breath, wishing it weren't so hard to do so. Why is oxygen suddenly so difficult? Why is hot embarrassment burning so shamefully up your face? Why is it hard for you to speak when all he's asking is why you work so hard for your crew?

"I n-need to earn it."

Your words make him wince, his expression darkening when you continue to turn away from him. That was too real, too raw, for him to ignore. He reaches a hand out to cup the side of your face, turning it gently to face him, voice firm and stern when he speaks.

"No, love, you don't. You don't need to "earn" anything. Attention and love are things you are owed. Especially by us. By your family."

Your eyes widen at his words when his voice goes stern. He raises a brow at you in warning.

"...unless, of course, you think you know better and intend to stop me from giving you the treatment you deserve?"

"I-"

The sudden authority in his tone makes you blush and fumble over your words, cutting off what was sure to be a protest about needing to earn affection.

Good, he thinks, because no one is allowed to talk that way about the things that belong to him, not even themselves. It's endearing how the firmer tone makes you stumble over yourself, like it takes hold of some part of your mind and squeezes, your voice a sheepish mumble when you fall in line immediately, response barely a whisper.

"...no sir. Sorry."

"Then I'll say it again: this treatment is not something you "earned." It's what you deserve. It's mine to give, and it's yours to accept. Understood?"

His voice remains stern, a look of warning in his eyes. He isn't sure what words exactly would trigger you like that, wrap themselves around your subconscious and tighten, but he hates to see you talk to yourself like that. You're family and family looks out for each other, and that means he had to look out for you.

"U-understood."

You can't help but shiver and melt into the firmness of his voice, and he makes another note of that, adding to the growing catalogue of you in his head. You like when he's gentle, but you fall in line quite quickly when presented with any semblance of authority, crumbling into obedience with your voice little more than a whisper.

He smiles, his voice taking on a softer tone.

"Good. Don't ever talk badly about what's mine again, yeah? You deserve all the love in the world, and if you try to deny it again I'm going to have to use force to get you to admit how wrong you are. And you know I don't like getting forceful with ladies."

He chuckles, gently stroking your hair.

"Can you open your eyes for me? I want to look at you again, you precious little thing."

You open your eyes obediently when he asks, blinking open glassy eyes with big, blown pupils. All of the things he said seem to swirl around in your head for a moment as you try to process all the wildly varying information- the words "precious little thing" going straight to your cheeks in the form of a blush, "good" and "you deserve all the love in the world" collecting warm in your chest with the rest of his praise, "I'm going to have to use force" feeding into some morbidly curious, possibly masochistic corner of your brain.

The last thing that manages to penetrate your subconscious is, ironically, one of the first things he said: "don't ever talk badly about what's mine".

Mine.

That word rattles around in your skull for a moment and makes you shudder pleasantly, lips parting around a request before you can think.

"Say it again. Please."

"...'Mine'? Sure. Mine."

His voice is soft but his eyes are sharp with intrigue, looking for something that he can't place in your gaze as he acquiesces.

"Why, does it feel good to hear someone say it? Are you wondering if I really mean it, or did you just want to hear it again?

Your blush spreads all the way to your ears at his questions, how immediately he pinpoints exactly what you're feeling ("why, does it feel good to hear someone say it?"). Yes. Of course, yes. To be someone's, belong to someone, the idea floods you with a near unbearable warmth. His.

"...I think I like when you're possesive."

You admit in a shy mumble, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, face hot with blush as you fidget with his shirt buttons sheepishly. Your voice is barely audible, only more evidence to how embarrassed you are by the revelation, but he's pretty sure he's never heard something more adorable.

"Feels...warm."

You watch the smile bloom across his face, slow and warm and blindingly bright and how did he have the right to smile like that? To look like that at all?

"...I think I like it when you ask for things, brave little thing."

The smile on his face is as soft as it can get, his voice gentle and loving. He strokes your hair softly, his tone light and playful as he speaks.

"You like being mine? Being something belonging to me rather than something that belongs to the world?"

You nod against his warmth, the softness of his words hitting you directly in the chest. Something belonging to him rather than the world. Christ, isn't that an idea?

"Will you- will you keep s-saying things like that? Please?"

When you ask, your face is hidden in his shoulder and your voice is muffled. For now, he decides to allow it, knowing how hard it is for you to ask for anything at all, always the type to assume you don't deserve whatever it is without even bringing embarrassment into play.

And oh, does embarrassment come into play.

Even with your face hidden against him, the mortification is obvious in every aspect of your being. It seems to roll off of you in waves at the prospect of even admitting that you like those things, but here you are. Shame seeping from every pore and still, somehow, he brings these things out of you.

He's never been more proud at the fact that you asked him anything at all, even if you're hiding.

"Makes me feel...w-wanted. Belonging to someone."

His lips touch your cheek in the softest kiss, a reward for your bravery, and he can feel every skip and ache in his heart the longer he has you like this.

Power, uncoiled and twitching in his lap like it's harmless.

"Oh, love. Belonging? That's what this is about? Of course you belong. You belong to this crew, to your family. You belong to me. It's a shame you've not felt that more in your life."

His lips move to your ear, and he nuzzles the sensitive skin gently, words whisper-soft.

"You were brave for asking for those things, especially when you're not used to them. Allow me to make up for lost time, lovely. Please."

By the end, his begging seems more for himself than it is for you. Like he'll fall apart if you don't let him cradle your broken pieces, coddle you like you should've been your whole life.

And he will. Of course he will. How could anyone see a thing like you and not - vulnerable and soft and wanting and the most stunningly enchanting thing he's ever seen, breathtaking in a way that has him wondering how in the world anyone could ever miss that you were something to be handled lightly, a delicacy to be protected with careful touches and soft words. He has a whole lifetime to make up for and, if you'll let him, he'll compensate for every single year

Every second, if it's what you want. It's what you deserve, that he's sure of. But he knows that as much as he wants to smother you completely with the weight of his affections, it's something you need to accept. Something you need to be willing to ask for.

Even if you don't think you deserve it, something you'll allow. You don't have to be used to it, it doesn't have to be easy. As long as it's allowed, that would be enough. He could work from there.

"...okay."

Okay.

A/N: Hey lovelies!!! Have some sustenance! Even though it's been a week into winter break I'm only just now getting over finals which is why I haven't been so active. BUT that being said, now that I'm over it and it's break expect WAY more frequent food!!!

Could you write a short fic for Zoros reaction to his s/o falling down some stairs (but she is ok just bruised) please. BTW love your writing

Characters: Zoro x female reader CW: none :) Total word count: 1k

Slip and Fall

One second you were upright, walking down the stairs.The next moment, you were staring up at the ceiling. 

The pain caught up with you quickly, and you groaned from the aches that riddled your body. Judging by the pain in your back, you must’ve slid down the stairs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but you were certain you’d have a few bruises to show for your misstep. 

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to recenter yourself and minimize the pain.

“What the hell was-” Zoro’s irritated voice cut off abruptly, and you braced yourself for some kind of cheap joke at your expense. 

But nothing came. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he also made no move to get closer to you. Or do anything. 

“Y/N?” Zoro’s voice came out as a harsh whisper. 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You breathed out a laugh. The pain seemed to be getting worse the more you lay there. “Help me up, will you?”

“No!” Zoro finally moved, rushing over to you to keep you still. “You shouldn’t move. It could-you could-I don’t want you to-”

“Zoro,” you groaned, finally opening your eyes and instantly meeting his. 

His eyes were so full of worry. They raked over your body, searching for any sign of injury. And you realized that Zoro was truly scared. 

Naturally, his fear made you panic. 

“What?” you tried to lift your head, but Zoro refused to let you move. 

“Chopper needs to check for a spinal injury. If you landed wrong…” He shook his head, as if he were shaking a thought from his head. 

“Zoro, I’m fine.” Though your back was probably blossoming with bruises, you were sure you’d survive.

“Let me go get Chopper. Just stay here for a minute. Please.” His last word was barely a whisper. It was that word, that small act of begging, that kept you anchored to where you laid. 

“Alright, alright.” You closed your eyes. “You fuss too much.”

“I do not-” You could hear him clench his jaw in frustration. “Just stay still for a minute!”

His hurried footsteps receded, and you could hear distant shouts from off in the distance, followed by footsteps coming back to you quickly. 

“She slipped and fell,” Zoro said softly, and you could hear Chopper set down his medical kit and open it. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” Chopper asked. You opened them. 

“Do you know your name?”

You laughed. “Of course I do!” 

Chopper and Zoro didn’t join your laughter, so you gave your full name to the doctor. 

The reindeer nodded. “And do you know where you are?”

You sighed. “The Sunny. The Grand Line. Don’t ask me where on the Grand Line, because I wouldn’t even know that on my best day.”

Chopper gave a slight smile at that answer, but Zoro was still watching you from a few feet away. He was tucked back in a corner, almost as if he was scared of you. 

“Did you hear me?” Chopper asked, waving a hand in front of your face. 

You blinked. You hadn’t heard his question. You hadn’t even realized he was speaking. 

“What is five plus five?” Chopper asked again. 

“Oh. Ten,” you answered quickly, taking your eyes off of Zoro for only a moment before finding him again. He looked so pale, and his mouth was pressed in such a tight line as he watched Chopper. You opened your mouth to speak, but Chopper spoke first. 

“Zoro, can you come help her sit up? I’d like to check her back for any signs of injury.”

“Chopper, I told you already! I’m fine!” Your words were accompanied with a groan as you tried to sit up on your own. 

Zoro was suddenly there, gently guiding you into a sitting position. You rolled back your shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness of your muscles. Zoro only watched you, his face still hard as stone. 

“Zoro.” Your fingers cupped his face, forcing his eyes to lock onto yours. “I’m here. I’m okay, really.”

“She’s right,” Chopper agreed, looking at you. “Some icky bruises for a few days, and you probably have a minor concussion, but you’re okay.”

“See?” You smiled. “I’m okay.”

Zoro nodded and pulled his face away from your grip. The panic in his eyes has subsided, but only slightly. 

“I probably need a lot of bedrest though, right Chopper?” You gave a slight nudge to the reindeer. 

“Huh? You don’t-” Chopper caught your wink and worried glance at Zoro. “Oh! Yes! She needs lots of rest. And she shouldn’t be alone…because of the concussion! Zoro, can you look after her?”

Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly, and you gave him a sheepish grin and you held out your hands. “Help me up?” you asked. 

He did you one better, gently picking you up off the ground. He was careful to avoid the sensitive spots on your back. How he knew exactly where they were, you weren’t sure, but you were thankful he was considerate. 

You were quick to pull him into bed and snuggle into his chest. Even if it wasn’t the most comfortable for your sore body, you were happy to be close to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.” His response was short, clipped. 

“Okay,” you hummed, curling in closer to him. 

A few minutes passed in comforting silence, and you were almost asleep when he kissed the top of your head. 

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought I lost you and I just…I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. I’m right here,” you murmured softly into his chest, letting his warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

She's a 10 but she's constantly daydreaming about a fictional man railing her.

better to reign in hell, than to serve in heaven - Suguru Geto x Reader

Warnings: explicit smut, dub/noncon, mega manipulative Suguru, minor spoilers for the Premature Death arc (this takes place between that and 0)

Word Count: 14,332

eeeyah writing based on manga is harder than on anime or games! Hopefully I did him justice, I really love Suguru. Like. A lot. A looot. Also I have a voice kink for his Japanese va so… there’s that. This is a generic plot I KNOW however, this is my sleepover so I get to choose the cliché!!!

//

Living alone suited you. Well, having your own bathroom you didn’t have to share with anyone else suited you.  You were of the strong opinion that a nice, hot shower could fix anything. It washed the blood, sweat, and grime from your skin, eased the tension in your shoulders. It helped you breathe easier. For as long as you could remember, that was your go to. Bad day? Shower. Lost a fight? Shower. Feeling sad? Shower. Regretting everything you’ve ever done? Shower. The mindless pitter-patter of water on the floor, against your shoulders, spinning in a bubbly whirlpool before draining away. Sometimes, you imagined it was a torrential downpour that would wash the world away in a flood. Sometimes you turned your face upward and imagined drowning in it, your lungs filled with water and body bloated and blue. Sometimes you closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to the cold tile and just breathed. In and out, slow and steady. You didn’t need to listen to the parade of thoughts in your head, you could just lose yourself in the deluge.

You blinked, a shiver running down your spine. At some point, the water had begun to run cold. The pipes squeaked when you turned off the stream, its steady thrum replaced with a rhythmic drip, drip, drip and the soft whoosh of the plumbing behind the walls.

It hadn’t been a bad day, not really. None of them were bad days. This was what you wanted. Peace and mediocrity. A normal life. The shaggy rug was soft on your feet, squishing between your toes. Mechanically, you dried off and slathered yourself in lotion, the movements holding an air of ritual. This was what you wanted. Again and again, until the meaning of the words was lost. Even then, you clung to the syllables themselves, hiding behind them as protection from your thoughts.

You pulled on your pajamas and brushed the tangles from your hair, wiping the steam from the mirror to see your face reflected in those blurry streaks. It was you, the same old you. Tired and worn, despite your best efforts. But still you. The mirror fogged back over. You turned away.

Opening the door let a cloud of floral-scented steam into the main room of your apartment, the cooler air brushing your damp, flushed skin and making you shiver. You flicked off the bathroom light and balanced against the doorway so you could put on socks, struggling to do so one-handed.

The truth was that, right then, you didn’t feel any sort of paranoia. You didn’t get the tingling sense that something was amiss. You were distracted by your own internal turmoil. You had grown complacent. You put too much trust in the safety of your apartment complex, the additional locks you’d fitted onto the door, and your subscription to a third party security system. No, it was only when you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye that you thought to cast a cursory glance over your apartment. Your dark kitchen, the living room with furniture you were still paying off, the mess of paperwork scattered across the coffee table, and the person on your sofa.

Comprehension struck with an inharmonic resonance of bronze and steel right in the pit of your stomach, metallic fear zipping through you. There was somebody in your apartment. You didn’t scream, you were above that, but your audible intake of breath and the thump of your foot hitting the floor was dangerously loud in the hollow absence of the bathroom fan’s hum.

Fight was, of course, your first instinct, cursed energy sparking to life in your gut. A normal person was nothing to a semi-Grade One jujutsu sorcerer, even one who was retired and weaponless.

But that was stupid, wasn’t it? If it were a normal person, it was unlikely they’d be able to get through the security measures. If it were a normal person, blind and unconscious fear wouldn’t have frozen you solid right in the doorway between your humid dark bathroom and the dimly lit den. Because although it was dark and although you were panicked, recognition struck you with the same near-instant jolt as the fear did. You knew, on a deep and base level. And you knew that he wasn’t normal.

Suguru Geto had draped himself across your couch on his side like he had every right to be there, one of his legs bent up and the other stretched out across the edge of the sofa. He lounged comfortably, his head lolling into one hand while the other held a phone. The blue light of the screen illuminated his face—that achingly familiar sculpted nose and jaw, those thin brows, the strands of dark hair flipped over his forehead. He didn’t even look up, too engrossed in whatever he was looking at.

This couldn’t be real.

Keep reading

The things I wanna do to Silvers Rayleigh should probably be considered crimes against the elderly.

JJK characters reacting to you squirting for the first time

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Warnings. AFAB reader, praise, filming mentions, belly bulge in yuji's bc he's hUge, squirting duh, strap on, daddy kink, mommy kink, size kink, fingering, cum eating, overstim, edging, pussy slap and one spank bc geto is a menace, dirty talk, creampie, slight breeding kink in megumi's I think, DNI criteria

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Characters. Gojo, Yuji, Toji, Nobara, Maki, Megumi, Geto, Sukuna.

♡ Requested. Anon: Headcannon on how the JJK boys would react to you squirting for the first time? 🤭💞 + @festive : Maki and nobara

#Tags. @yuujispinkhair @multistan-247 @zeninade

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated!!

Satoru Gojo

Smug bastard

He's been fucking into you for so long now that you lost track of time. Wet squelches of his cock pushing inside your tight cunt while you squirmed under his huge form, taking his pounding with stifled moans. That is, till you felt the proverbial coil in your lower belly tighten impossibly,"Fuck- baby, baby- if ya' keep squeezin' me s'tight-" Furrowed white brows shoot up when a clear liquid drenches his cock and a portion of his lower abdomen.

"Didn't know you are a squirter, baby." He purrs, blue eyes entrapped on your spasming cunt as you creamed on his cock. Beads of sweat dewed on top of his brow from the intensity of his own orgasm while he fucked you through yours. His huge 6'7 state toppled over yours as he reached for his phone on the nightstand,"Think ya' can do it again f'me?" With his thumb drawing lazily on your wet clit, he turns on his phone camera.

Definitely gonna tease you later abt it😭

"You're an idiot 'toru!"

"Well this idiot can make ya' squirt."

He don't care if you both are in public, he's got NO SHAME.

Yuji Itadori

He's shocked initially but it soon fades into a gleeful grin.

"Y/n, 'm close," Yuji's voice is a strained whisper grunted out aa his palm pressed flush on the outline of his cock under your skin,"Yuji," Your mind only managed to form his name before your eyes rolled into your head and back arched,"This cock is all yours, baby." He felt every thrust under his fingers,"Go on and cream on my cock, please." His whimper along with the spurts of his orgasm right against your sweet spot made your vision go blank as your walls squeezed him tight.

Even through your post orgasmic haze, you could hear his proud mutter,"I did that," You hum in acknowledgement, embarrassment crawling up your spine as you notice the mess you made,"Baby," He takes your face in his palms, thumbs rubbing small circles on the heated contour of your cheeks,"You did great," A sweet kiss meets your lips as Yuji bucks into you softly to ride out his orgasm,"My good girl,"

Expect lots of praises from him.

“Cum as much as you wanna, sweetheart. Just wanna see ya' all fucked out and pretty f'me.”

“Use your words pretty girl, can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need.”

He tells himself he does it to make you feel better and it's true but mostly it's because Yuji loves the way your pussy clamps down tight around him at the sugary words.

Toji daddy Fushiguro

Greedy mf

He's got you folded in half with your thighs pushed up snug against your bouncing tits,"Need daddy to fill ya' up all nice, hm?" You babble off a slurred response, too drunk on the way his thick cock is rubbing against your walls, hitting all the good spots with each thrust,"Yes, daddy please please please," Toji chuckles at your words,"Then go on and tell me just how desperately you want it, that you need it." Before you can speak, your jaw hangs open in a soundless scream.

A choked groan of surprise rumbles at the back of his throat,"Fuck, that was fuckin' hot." Squishing your thighs, he pounds into you harder,"C'mon, do that again," He spoke over the loud drenched slapping noises as he rut into your sullied hole,"Daddy, too much please," Your toes curl from the intensity of it, moans falling freely from your kiss swollen lips,"Nuh-uh baby,"

He doesn't stop till you squirt again😃

"Be my good girl n' do it for daddy."

"Look s'beautiful like this, so messy for daddy."

Mans got stamina, so rip to your poor pussy because now that he's made up his mind, no matter how much you cry and writhe under him with little daddy slow down! and please toji, he's gonna see it through till you squirt again on his cock.

Nobara Kugisaki

Meanie

Your chest rose and fell in a rapid rhythm while your eyes fluttered shut,"Eyes on me," A quick curl of her fingers had you gasping, staring down at her pretty face in between your thighs,"Look a'me when I make you cum on my tongue, baby." Her lips quirk up in a teasing smirk as she burries her slender fingers knuckles deep in your greedy cunt. Pressing hier tongue to your swollen clit, she hums in delight. With her fingertips nudging at your sweet spot, your head falls back and you cry out.

"Wow," Blinking away the daze, you look down at the way her chin is drenched, tongue peaking out to lick at her lips,"What a disobedient girl you are, y/n." Nobara tuts, pulling her fingers out with a slick pop. Kissing your thigh, she holds her hand up to your mouth,"Go on, clean 'em. It's your mess, baby."

Has you suck on her fingers

"Oh, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, so obedient now."

"Did I make you feel s'good that your pussy just did that?"

Never gonna let you forget it that she, Nobara, made you squirt just by her mouth and fingers like she didn't edge you for countless times before that 🙄

Maki Zenin

Beefy mommy--

"Maki," Your thigh burns from the stretch as she lifts it up on her shoulders,"Can't no more," Palms bracketing your bouncing breasts, she huffs,"You can take it." Sweat made strands of dark hair stick to her forehead as she bit her lip in concentration, the new angle had the strap on going deeper. She could tell by how loud you are,"Cum for me, baby." Her hand slipped up to cup your cheek, thumb gliding over your lower lip,"Cum for mommy, hm?"

Her shoulders flex under your legs, you can feel the toned muscles ripple as she delivers a powerful thrust. Your cry drowns out the terrible squeak of the bed as you follow her command,"God, baby, s'good for mommy." Her eyes follow the way the wet strap on disappears inside your cunt as she fucks you through your orgasm,"My messy little baby."

Why do I get a feeling that this woman is gonna fuck your face next

"Taste that? That's all you."

"Go on, take it all in your mouth like your pussy did."

Maki loves to see the tears running down your face as she ruts into your face, knowing full well that the strap on hits the back of your throat with each thrust.

Megumi Fushiguro

Filthy filthy mouth, wash it with a soap man

“What baby? What’s wrong, what’s got you whining?” His body covers yours as he bends over, chest pressed to your warm back,"You like the way my cock feels inside you?" His hand is cupping your breast, tugging and teasing at the bud standing tall as you buried your face in the crook of your elbow,"Your pussy sure likes it, angel. It's wrapped s'fucking tight 'round my cock, squeezing just perfect,"

You squeal as his tip slips against your rough patch, hitting repeatedly till you're spilling on his cock like a wild stream. He chuckles at the way your cunt struggles with his relentless thrusts,"Looks like your pussy loves my cock, yeah?" His fingers pinch and rub at your clit to prolong your orgasm, just so he could feel your walls tighten around his length for longer.

Just because you came doesn't mean he's gonna stop, he's not gonna let you rest till he has filled you up to the brim.

"Gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy, baby?"

"You look s'beautiful like this, stuffed full with my cum, my little cumdump."

His words make your cunt clench even after he pulls out. Megumi laughs when a drop of his white warmth rolls down your thigh before his fingers scoops it up and smears it on your puffy clit while you whimper.

Suguru Geto

Smug bastard 2.0

The sheets are wet from your drool and tears as he pressed your face down on the mattress, balls leaving a delicious sting on your clit as they slapped against you with each rough thrust from him. A muffled plea soaked the pillow with your moan,"Hm? Speak up darling, can't hear ya' over the pretty noises yer' making f'me." The huge hand pressing between your shoulder blades held you down firmly while the other one smacked your ass before sneaking down to slap at your swollen clit.

You screamed, balling up the sheets in your fists as your stomach knotted, squelching on his cock,"Darlin', fuck- that's amazing," Geto licks his lips at the sight of your pussy fluttering all messy around his shaft. Gripping your squirming hips, he ruts harder into you,"What a pathetic mess you are, y/n." Your whimpers egg him on while he chases his own orgasm, heavy balls dragging along your thighs, now wet with your slick,"Need me to clean ya' up, huh?"

He's gonna bury his face in between your legs right after he pumps you with his seed.

"Hold still f'me. I'm doing this for you, darling."

"Gotta take care of my sweet girl, yeah?"

FILTHY. That's what Geto is, he holds your thighs apart as his tongue swirls around your cunt and then he's crawling up your torso to press slicked lips to your drool glossed ones, letting you taste the mess on his mouth.

Ryomen Sukuna

Oh dear, you think it's the first time you squirt for him? He's the king of curses, he's got you squirting every time he fucks you.

A pair of hands griped your naked waist, ploughing you on his hard cock while the other squeezed at your breasts. With each thrust, his cock pressed snug at the door of your cervix. Loud 'kuna please and wet smacks resonated in the serenity of his magnificent domain, twinned with his proud chuckles and grunts,"What would you do without me, brat?"

Sukuna leans back on his throne, red orbs glistening at the way you trip on slurred words,"Need your king to fuck you till you're dumb, hm?" Your body shuddered as you toppled over the edge of your precipice, your juices ruining his clothes,"Again?" His neck wraps around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a kiss, teeth sinking into your plump lower lip.

Sukuna makes you ride him till he cums, that's the least you can do after he gave you such mind numbing orgasms each time, right?

"Use that tight little cunt to make your king cum, gambare gambare."

"What? Need my help again? What a pathetic little mortal."

He eventually guides your tired, worn out body on his aching cock, using you like a doll for his pleasure till he's leaking thick ropes of hot cum deep inside you.

2021 © all content belongs to druighoney. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Sanji Week Day 3: Stealth Black

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML!1!1! 🥺😻😻

ଘ. warnings ⸝⸝ twitter p*rn links. consensual somnophilia. cunnilingus. car/public sex. cock warming. creampie. greedy ‘n needy getō >:| only cause it's his birfday. (17+).

birthday boy!getō.. he's selfish. so, so, so fucking selfish.

birthday boy!getō who wakes up bright and early with a cheesy smile and a hard-on in chastity; fat cock already throbbing with anticipation–already leaking with greed–and ready to make the pitiful excuse to fuck you as just an ‘early birthday gift’ for him; stuffing you full with the fat of his cock as you continue to try and sleep before prepping for his big day today.. link! + link!

birthday boy!getō who can't even keep his selfish and eager hands off of you while you try to cook his favorite breakfast for him.. his greedy hands snake around the soft curve of your hips, the tips of his fingers wisping across your fevered skin and nipping gentle kisses at the curvature of your neck, teasing you, reeling you into giving him the breakfast he actually wants this morning.. link! + link!

birthday boy!getō who whines to you selfishly for more of your special little gifts you promised him, even when you try taking him out for a cute little picnic birthday lunch, having to hear him whine and make the selfish excuses on how it's his birthday and deserves to fuck you on the way there and even at the picnic spot.. link! + link!

birthday boy!getō who makes you sit on his aching cock while he opens his gifts soon as you two arrive back home. he makes you warm up his cock with your pretty little pussy as he smiles and appreciates every gift you've given him; he's so thankful for you and everything you've done for him today, and he sits there with a giddy smile as you tease his sensitive cock till he finally pops a hot and heavy load deep into your soft cunt.. link! + link!

ᥫ᭡ ─ tags! ⸝⸝ @svgarslut , @gabzlovesu , @umiexe </3 , @earlesskitten , @misss-chrisss , @tojiswhoreeee , @ghoejo >.<