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Latest fic: Wrapped Around my finger (Zoro x Law)

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[acestattoo]

Wrapped Around my finger (18+)

(assassin swordsman Zoro x criminal surgeon Law) Synopsis: Law has been doing many illegal activities around the city, and Zoro has been assigned by his superiors to eliminate him, but things are turning out more difficult than necessary to eliminate someone you once had relations with… Cw: drugging, assassination, oral (m! receiving), anal penetration, slightly ooc, law’s a manipulator, slightly toxic, jacking off, temporary amnesia, past lovers, law is lowkey obsessed, angst, hurt no comfort wc: 5.6k

The city looms with the darkness of a stormy night; taxis invade the streets to take employees home, thousands of umbrellas occupy the pedestrian walkway with unbothered civilians, and the bright neon lights of billboards decorate the walls of the towering buildings of the city’s central. Above it all, a figure covered with a deep forest green coat, black undergarments, three swords, three golden earrings, and a scar blinding his left eye observes over the city, lightning striking behind him. The gaze this man has over the city is deadly, precise, and intricate, taking in every detail the bustling centre has to offer; every cellphone switched on, every offsetting footstep, every abnormal presence. The man breathes in deeply before jumping down the building, catching onto a flagpole before using it as leverage to strike down on a deal happening in a back alley with supersonic speed. Before the two men could even realise what had happened, they both had been struck with precision across their throats, not a single sound emitted from them except the thuds of their bodies on the floor. The agile man arose from his crouched position, sheathing the two swords he took out mid-flight towards the two.

“Target eliminated,” he finished gruffly before disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway, the bling of his earrings being the last visible thing.

“Zoro. Report to HQ with immediate effect. Nami will pick you up two streets down.”

“Copy,” the cloaked man known as Zoro replies monotonously as he jumps up against the apartment staircases to reach the rooftop to scope for Nami’s Aston Vantage. Once he spots the car, he immediately begins leaping and parkouring his way into the vehicle, Nami leaving the canopy open since she’s used to his outlandish antics. With a sudden thud, Zoro lands in the passenger seat. Nami closes the canopy and continues driving toward HQ.

“You could've at least disposed of the bodies when you finished slitting their goddamn throats,” the ginger complains as she sighs into her steering wheel, “you have no idea how cumbersome it is to try to clean up your messy assassinations without getting weird stares. I just got my nails done as well! You’re getting accumulated interest for that stunt.”

“Hey! It was two lowly nobodies,” Zoro turns to his partner, appalled by her audacity, “I don't owe you shit, Nami!!”

Nami just sighs, a small conniving grin slowly creeps onto her face, “Oh, no worries. Then maybe next time I’ll just tell the higher-ups about how sloppy you are when it comes to finishing the job and how your partner always has to clean up your mess. I’d say that's a bit sexist considering our roles in this duo,” her gaze peers to Zoro’s confused one, “I wonder what’d they do if they found out how consistently messy and sexist their top assassin really is, he would probably be taken out right there and then,” she giggles, “but oh well since you don't want to pay me to shut up i guess you dont–”

“You little! Fine, I’ll pay you by Sunday,” Zoro grumbles. The idea of losing this job is one he cannot afford to make a reality, mainly because violence is all he knows.

“Thank you for your cooperation!” Nami winks as they head down into an alleyway that opens up to a tunnel. The tunnel seems never-ending until they reach a massive, wide-open space filled with many more sports cars and fellow assassins walking around, practising their aim with guns, agility training facilities, and many more. Nami slows the car as they reach the end of the container, turning off the engine as they step out and head toward the elevator.

“God dammit, how come that mosshead ended up with my sweet Nami while I get stuck with this cowardly sniper?” a blonde smoker grumbles as his partner nips the final piece holding the cutout’s head together from 500 meters away with a bullet. His partner turns to him and sighs, “With how you sometimes act around ladies, Sanji, it’s with valid reason.”

Before the elevator closed, Zoro decided to throw a cheeky comment Sanji’s way, “At least I don't have curly eyebrows and reek of cigarettes to throw off my flow!” The elevator then closed before Sanji could have had a chance.

The ride up to the top was quiet, but not from awkwardness; Zoro just happens to be a shy person, disguising it as nonchalance. Upon arriving at the boss’s office at the top, Zoro and Nami step out to a spacious room, walls decorated with trophies modelled as meatbones and animals, crowns, mementoes from the boss’s friends, and much more. When the elevator doors close, the big swivel chair spins around to reveal their younger boss, snoozing in the most uncomfortable position; it’s not surprising to the partners to find their boss asleep like that. Nami sighs begrudgingly before walking up to him, backhanding her boss to wake him up, the youngin jolting awake at the sting, rubbing his cheek to ease the pain.

“Nami, you could've at least shaken me awake; your methods are scary.”

“My methods have a 100% success rate, boss,” she argues back, “now what’d you call us both up here for?”

Zoro stays quiet, not only because he didn't know what to say during the interaction, but also because he knows Nami’s wrath all too well.

“Huh?....oh right!! The new intel!” their curly-haired boss snickers before sitting up straight, Zoro inching closer to hear their new mission. “According to our fellow doctor, Tony Chopper, there’s been illegal experimentation going around the city, and for quite some time, without any of us realising,” the boss reaches down to his drawer to drop some files onto his desk, attempting to avoid the cleaned-out plates of bones and pasta scattered all over. Nami carefully picks up the folder, only to find two sheets of paper containing only witness descriptions and a few snapshots of the person’s movements. 

“Wait, that’s it?! Luffy, we can't work with this,” Nami’s tone shifts to impossibility, going through what little intel they've been given, “surely there’s gotta be more?”

“Sorry, Nami,” Luffy sighs as he reaches for a drumstick on a plate, “but this guy is tricky. He’s rumoured to be extremely intelligent and intricate about how he operates. I do trust you two can complete this job, yes?”

Zoro decides to chime in, “What about Franky and Robin? This seems to be more up their lane.”

“They got caught up in another job. I would ask Brook, but something came up with one of his previous jobs’ clients. Jinbei still has his undercover job with Big Mom, so you two are my only other options.”

Zoro makes a sound, not out of annoyance but one of understanding. “Can’t be helped, I guess. Any hints on how to get more intel?”

“Whoa, Zoro, think about this for once!” Nami turns to his partner, “We’re talking about one of the smartest criminals out there! We can’t be throwing ourselves into this possibly endless goose chase, knowing we can't even get a sliver of information!”

“I read somewhere the price for his head is about 3 billion dollars; he must really be–”

“Let’s go to Chopper’s clinic!” Nami squeals as she grabs Zoro’s forearm and drags him back down to the garage, “Don’t worry, boss! We’ll be done before you can say ‘chicken noodle soup’!” and before Zoro could even get a word of input, the elevator lift closes; Luffy laughs at the two and turns his chair to view the dark city night.

Zoro and Nami arrive at the clinic Chopper’s been dispatched to. Upon exiting the car, Zoro felt a chilling gaze set upon the two, his eyes darting to find where they could be staring at them from. Just before giving up, a glint of golden pupils catches his grey pupil’s attention up on the clinic’s roof before it vanishes, immediately setting Zoro into action. He jumps up onto a nearby streetlight, catching Nami way off guard, and uses the pole to catapult himself onto the roof. He lands crouched on the edge, his eyes filled with murderous intent upon seeing a black doctor's coat with yellow leopard-like markings play with the shadows of the night. Without further hesitation, Zoro unsheathes his swords and immediately strikes for the darkness, the power within his swing toppling over some trash cans and sending pigeons flying; only to stand up and realise that he didn't slice anything. Confused, he wanders around the roof. I could've sworn I saw a figure…

“Zoro!! Get your ass down here! Chopper has something for us!” Nami shouts from her car, resting against the canopy. A moment passes before Zoro just sighs and jumps back down, sheathing the two swords he took out to look down at their junior doctor.

“Zoro, Nami!! It’s been a while!” the young boy, Dr Chopper, cheerfully greets as he hugs the two before leading them into the closed clinic.

The two are seated on an operating bench while Chopper pulls up his chair with another file he was able to construct for the two. “I don't have much more info for you two, but I was able to snag a name: Surgeon of Death.” The two nod at the new information, Zoro still hung on to the idea that he actually spotted him on the roof earlier. “I don’t know exactly why, but up until a few days ago, he’s been buying medicine from me under the alias ‘Torao’, which I believe he changes the compositional structure before re-distributing illegally alongside his unusual surgeries.”

“Do you know how long he’s been your client?” Nami chimes in.

“I wanted to search back on the system, but it seems his first few transactions have been wiped, “ Chopper spins to his desktop, opening up all the transactions from the past ten months. “I couldn’t find anything else on him, but maybe you should try my friend from the underground, Bepo. He should have something on him since he used to work with him from what I remember.”

Zoro immediately stands up and walks out of the room before closing the door. He thanks Chopper, and Nami quickly gets Bepo’s whereabouts before following close behind. As they enter her car, Zoro feels a paper crumple in one of his scabbards. Curious, he picks it out of the cramped space and analyses its words:

So close yet so far, Roronoa You could've had me if your little partner hadn't called you down. Saturday, Punk Hazard Laboratories. -L

L?? Is this Surgeon?? Zoro keeps this information to himself, crumpling the paper into one of his back pockets as Nami starts the engine and cruises through the night to the location Chopper gave them. 

“You seem quieter. Something on your mind?” Name comments, eyes deadset on the road, noticing her partner isn't as responsive as usual (mind you, he isn't as responsive initially) “Hm? It’s nothing. Just thinking.”

“You and thinking don't usually go hand-in-hand,” she snorts a little, getting a ticked off sound from him, “you know you can talk to me if something’s up.”

“Noted.” Nothing more than a single word as he looks out the window, questioning the true intentions of this Torao guy; the secretive appearance, the crumpled paper in his sword scabbard. There seems to be more to him, and Zoro wants to know.

They reach an underground boxing arena, most likely an unregistered one. Nami parks her car in an alleyway before draping it over to avoid suspicion. She heads to her boot and takes out one of her favourite fashionable jackets, Zoro deadpanning her.

“What? God forbid a girl dress up for the occasion?”

“It’s an underground boxing arena.. And we’re here for work, not betting against old rich guys.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts, but sashayed on toward the door, Zoro just sighing and following behind, until he gets pulled into the shadows; his mouth covered to avoid any noise and with such suddenness that Nami hadn't realised her partner wasn’t following behind her. Zoro tries to use brute force to escape the tight grip before he feels the chill of a venomous voice slither up his neck.

“It’s only a matter of time, Roronoa,” he whispers before stabbing him in the neck with a syringe. Luminous green liquid begins to flow into his bloodstream, and his veins begin to pop out of his neck. Due to his mouth being covered, all he could let escape his mouth were grunts and muffled words. The mysterious figure lets out a low chuckle before letting him go and once again disappearing into the shadows, Zoro unsheathing his swords, ready to attack, but not sensing his presence anywhere. Stunned by what happened within the past minute, for the first time, he’s frozen. Frozen with confusion, oddity, and… yearning? What yearning could this be? The yearning to finally put down this sly surgeon or the yearning to know who he really is that has him burning hot with embarrassment and…pleasure. Wait, pleasure?! He looks down and lo and behold, a tent has formed against his skintight jumpsuit. Surprised at his body’s inconvenient timing, he moves his sword belt so that the three swords hang in front of his boner as he hurriedly catches up to Nami, who’s already made her way inside.

The place erupts with noise as one opponent gets knocked down in the ring, many men clinging to pints of beer and roughhousing each other. Zoro manages to catch up to Nami, holding her close to avoid weirdos from even attempting to reach for her. As the two weave through the crowd, Zoro’s senses become a bit dazed; his movements become sluggish, and his vision becomes delayed. He tries his best to maintain his sanity, trying not to do anything that’ll make Nami suspicious of his demeanour or start any unnecessary fights. As he tries to adjust his focus again, flashes of the surgeon come and go between the crowds; a demented smile plastered on his face as his huge snow leopard-patterned hat disguises his hair and eyes, almost as though he’s teasing Zoro’s very existence and playing in his face since he isn’t in the right form to attack.

By some lucky star, he, alongside Nami, makes it to the VIP section where this supposed Bepo guy hosts these fights. Two bodyguards appear before the door, one in a shark hat and one in a penguin hat, and block the two assassins from entering. Nami comes forward and hands them a letter Chopper wrote in case access would be difficult for them. The shark hat guard takes the note, reads it, and nods to the penguin-hat guard, both of them stepping aside for the duo to enter.

The VIP section is lavish; premium bars, buffet with an endless food supply, and on the far right, three humongous couches facing a window dangling above the boxing ring. Zoro already begins levitating to the bar when Nami grips his forearm with brute force and gives him a ‘don't you dare’ look, a jolt of fear zips through Zoro as he defeatedly follows the ginger to the couches. Seated right in the centre with piles of money sat the alleged Bepo; a huge figure, silver hair running down his forearms as they bulge out his half-folded up white dress shirt, short silver hair styled back as he wears black circular sunglasses, leaned back comfortably against the soft velvet couch.

“I take it you’re Nami and Zoro?” the man comments, counting the bills in his hand with some seafood in his mouth.

“How did you–”

“Dr Chopper alerted me of your coming,” he sighs before standing up. The moment he towers over the two, Zoro carefully reaches for his swords, still not fully healed from the substance, but he won't waste a second if things go south. Nami and Bepo have a little stare off before the serious demeanour of Bepo drops with immediate effect and embraces the two in a bear hug. “I have BEEN waiting to see you guys!! My two favourite assassins on the block!”

“Huh?!” Nami and Zoro question, not being able to garner much air from the tightness of the hug, tapping Bepo’s back to let them breathe.

“Oh, sorry,” he lets go of them, straightening anything that got crumpled in the hug, “the doctor’s told me so much about you. Ahem,” he snaps for two guys to clear the money on the couch before leading the two to the furniture, “please. Take a seat. The rest of you get out. Now.” The seriousness in his tone sent everyone scrambling out of the section, leaving those three and the two bodyguards outside.

“We heard you’ve had communications with this Surgeon of Death,” Nami slides the criminal file over to him, “got anything that’ll help with finding him?”

The snow-coloured man pondered for a bit, his calloused fingers running through the slivers of his forming beard. A few moments pass before he snaps his fingers, and Nami and Zoro’s attention is set on him.

“I remember now! Man, has it been so long!” He heartily laughs and sits back on the couch, “His name is Trafalgar Law.”

Something in Zoro snaps.

“I just remember at some point he worked with your boss while I was still around; wayyy before he went ‘rogue,’ one would say.”

A sword begins to unsheathe.

“I would suggest either checking Winner Casino in the east part of the city or that rundown suburb, Flevance. That’ll hel–”

Before he could even finish, Zoro was halfway across the couch, murderous intent in his eyes as he lunged for Bepo. Luckily, Nami was able to pin him down with swiftness as two guards came rushing in and pointed pistols at his head. Bepo could only lean back in terror at what the half-blind assassin had done. Five seconds pass, and Zoro snaps out of the trance he was put in, his hands behind his back, Nami as well, as they get taken out of the vip section, tossed out the back as though they were rubbish. 

Both of them regain consciousness, Nami being quicker as she grabs Zoro by his short punk hair like she was about to rip it clean off his head.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! We were getting good info on our target, and Bepo was warming up to us!!” She screamed into his ear.

“What do you mean? That Law guy was just about to slit Bepo’s throat. I only moved accordingly,” Zoro groans as he rubs his head, his brain still sort of fuzzy.

“What are you talking about?? There was no one behind Bepo. Even I would've noticed a knife by his neck,” she huffs out, dropping his head back down as she heads to her car, “whatever sick dream you think this is, you better wake the fuck up now. We got business to handle.”

Zoro arose from his position, confused at Nami’s words. But he was about to kill Bepo. I saw the knife and his conniving grin plastered on his face as the knife drew closer to his neck. I..Did I really see that alone?

The drive to Zoro’s apartment was quiet. He almost killed their only source of information on their target, got them kicked out, and worst of all, (well, according to Nami) he soiled her favourite fur coat when they got tossed out. Upon arrival, before he could step out the car, Nami said monotonously, “We meet back at HQ at 3 pm sharp tomorrow. You'd better cut whatever’s going on in the mosshead of yours out by that time, or I'll be taking this case on solo.” Zoro just huffs out as he steps out, Nami speeding off into the cold, rainy night. 

His apartment is minimalistic; a few weights, a couch, a tv and a bed, with a kitchen on the side. Closing the door and kicking off his boots, he heads to the fridge for a bottle of sake when–

“Nice place you got, Roronoa-ya,” a chilling voice echoes through the empty room, his swords unsheathed and ready to strike.

“Who wants to get sliced and diced tonight?” The swordsman’s eyes are quick, navigating the area for any traces of this mysterious voice that looms in the night.

“Oh, I know you wouldn't cut me up,” a hand slides across Zoro’s back with delicacy, causing him to turn around to a whole bunch of nothing, “you wouldn't dare cut up your only boyfriend now, would you?” the voice snickers, still lingering in the shadows of the dimmed room.

“Boyfriend?” Zoro scoffs, “I don’t focus my attention on sappy relationships, let alone with a man.” “If that’s the case,” the voice looms closer, lips barely kissable from Zoro’s ear, “then why is it your body reacts so obediently at the mere sound of my voice?” he chuckles before feeling around Zoro’s waist, tatted hands slide gently across the swordman’s toned abs before leading up to his neck with a scalpel. “You are going to forget this night ever happened, Roronoa-ya, and I’ll make sure of it.”

Zoro makes haste and turns around, grabbing the hand before it vanishes into the shadows to reveal the target he and Nami have been searching for: a humongous snow leopard hat, tattoos from his collar-bone down and glowing golden eyes akin to those of a panther in the night. 

Trafalgar Law.

The mere sight of him caused Zoro to stutter in his movements; he did not move to stab his vital points, nor did he swing to slice his head off to return to his boss, Luffy, as a trophy. He didn’t move at all. His eye widened as though he saw an ex-lover who was thought to be lost forever. Was that the case? Even if it was, how would I end up forgetting what he looked like?

Law saw the distraught in his eye, a sly grin played on his face as he moved his lips to his neck, nipping at the skin to leave marks. 

“Your mind will always forget me, yet your body remembers every touch. Enjoy it while you can, swordsman,” he continues to move down, slowly undressing the swordsman in the kitchenette as Zoro couldn’t do anything but stifle groans at the pleasure the very person he was meant to catch was giving him. His grip on Law’s wrist and his sword loosened at the sensation of his lips; his sideburns and goatee brushing against his rigid skin as his veiny hand moves to uncap him and run his fingers through his spiky, raven hair.

“Impatient, I see. Let the doctor fix you up.” At this moment, Law is on his knees, face to face with an aching bulge waiting to be freed. A small flush of pink dusts Zoro as he sees him kneeling in front of his erection. Both from embarrassment and desire. All he could let out was a grunt and a small nod before looking away, too ashamed to bear witness to what he’s allowing from both himself and the person he was set out to assassinate. No further time was wasted, as Law pulls down the assassin’s underwear; his erecting bouncing against his abdomen before facing him once more, precum dribbling against the bell of his tip.

“I never got tired of this view, you know,” Law begins, taking the girthy erect in his hand, pumping slowly, a loud groan escaping Zoro’s lips as he leans against the kitchen’s island for stabilisation. Each pump feels, for some reason, nostalgic to the mint-haired man as his eyes roll back from the pleasure. Law, after a few more pumps, decides to slowly encapsulate his dick with his mouth, suctioning it from the tip to bottoming him at his pelvic area. The mere feel of Law’s soggy walls against his length had Zoro’s head tilted back and grip on his hair tenser, Law continuing to bob his head to and from his pelvic area. Zoro knows this is wrong; this man is probably toying with him. From the moment above the clinic, to the unexpected drugging, to an illusion of him behind his former co-worker. This was all to toy with Zoro’s reality and his emotions. Yet, here he is, getting a blowjob by that same manipulator. His balls tighten as he reaches his climax, his dick moving around in Law’s mouth as strings of cum splatter around his mouth. He pants heavily as he lifts the surgeon up from his kneeling position, hair still gripped tight.

“That felt good, didn't it? Agh,” Law grunts at the pain from the grip, yet the pleasure from sucking off the swordsman.

“Why are–why are you doing this to me?” Zoro huffs, still coming down from his high, “Who are you exactly?”

“Didn't you hear me the first time, Roronoa-ya?” Law chuckles, his face brought closer by the swordsman as one of his swords sits deathly close to his neck, “I’m your boyfriend.”

“Impossible.” Zoro’s eye grows thin, like an eagle who has eyes on their prey, “If I had a lover, I would fucking be aware of it. So what the fuck,” he shakes the surgeon by his hair again, “is your business with me?”

“I’m just here to please my stubbornly shy boyfriend,” he snickers, “after all: you will forget this night ever happened anyway as you try to search for me tomorrow thanks to my drug.”

“What the fuck did you put in that–” Zoro couldn't finish as Law grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him into a messy kiss. Stunned by the suddenness, Zoro tries to pull out of it, but it’s no use; his body wants to pull Law closer, turn them around and pin him on the island, but his brain wants to end this toxic, messed-up hookup and eliminate him right there and then. 

Whatever took over his mind in the next three seconds was beyond his control, as something switched and he no longer was sceptical about his actions as he gave into the kiss, pushing his tongue into Law’s mouth as the hand he was gripping his hair descended to his neck and the other by his hip. Law chuckles into the kiss, getting exactly what he wanted as he moves the two to his bedroom. The heavy rain of the night is the only light and sound for the two as they collapse against the bedding, their two bodies making the bed creak as the kiss deepens. Left with barely any room to breathe, Zoro flips Law around, still connected by the lips as Law’s on all fours in front of him, hands moving aggressively yet with precision to remove the blue jeans he had on. 

They release each other from the kiss, catching their breath as Zoro’s swollen lips move to kiss him on Law’s nape, moving steadily to unclothe him from his black and yellow cloak and his underwear, revealing his gaping anus, practically begging to be explored. Zoro aligns his length to the minute hole, lifting Law up by his neck so that his back is practically attached to his chest.

“Breathe, I don't want to hurt you,” Zoro murmurs low, nipping Law’s ear just above his earrings.

“Funny, five minutes ago you wanted to do nothing but hurt me,” he chuckles, “but okay.” he breathes in slowly, calming his heart as Zoro slowly penetrates him, the immense pain from the stretch causing both of them to wince, more Law than Zoro as a small whimper escaped Law’s lips.

“Oh fuck, how you’re so sexy,” Zoro groans as he leaves a hickey on Law’s collarbone, just above his tattoo, “now take all of me like I know you can.”

Zoro continues to move in deeper; the tight, fleshy walls of Law continue to compress and retract around him before he bottoms out. They stay in that position before Zoro lets go of Law’s neck. His huge hands move down his toned body and settle by his hips as he leans down a little.

“Make sure to breathe,” his voice is low against Law’s ear as he begins to slowly move out, causing Law to moan a little.

“Tch, you didn't tell me you were gonna move, idiot.”

Zoro grunts, a chuckle seeped underneath as he continues to thrust in and out, “yet you still take me so well for someone with a smart mouth.”

“Shut -ngh- up,” Law groans as his eyes roll back to his brain and his head gets pushed into the bedding as Zoro thrusts deeper. It all feels too familiar to Zoro, his subconscious aware of the situation but unable to take control.  Unable to snap out of the idea of giving backshots to not just any random man, but his alleged boyfriend, whom he’s meant to kill. That same concept kept swirling in his mind throughout the night, because even though he knows he should stop, he is physically incapable of stopping. Zoro reaches to spread Law’s asscheeks further as he thrusts deeper, each push stimulating his climax further; a few more groans escape his lips before he pulls out to pump his seed on Law’s back. Both continue to pant as Law turns to face Zoro, busy pumping his own length at the beautiful sight of his “man” being absolutely battered at how well his hole took him. Zoro stared down at him with confusion, lust, and questioning. Why am i so sexually driven? Why did that feel so good? Is he really my boyfriend? So many questions swirl in his mind as he plummets next to Law, assisting him in finishing him off. After Law cums in his hand, he looked up at his glowing golden eyes, lost in their beauty yet unaware of how they’ve trapped him in this endless cycle they’ve been in for the past 2 years.

*flashback two years prior*

After the intense cold war Luffy’s assassination firm had with one of the Four Fathers of the city, Kaido, Law and Zoro had realised how close they’d gotten during the conflict. Every interaction with each other’s organisations, they’d leave subtle yet impactful hints for each other; sitting oddly close to each other in meetings, more glances than usual across the room, leaving assassination tips underneath their paperwork when the latter doesnt notice. They’ve been at it for months, and even their respective organisations didn't even know that they ended up together at some point. They had to keep it secret for the sake of themselves and any rogue organisations that’ll use it against them.

During a mission Zoro had, he was mid-mission when he had gotten a morse-code message from Law. They usually did this as their form of communication since phones are trackable. It was an emergency message. Law had been set up and was about to be executed. Without further hesitation, Zoro finished off his kill and blitzed to the scene, leaving Nami to yet again clean up his mess. The only downfall was that Zoro’s sense of direction was beyond help. He kept circling the city, ending up everywhere but the location of where Law was. In the end, he realised it was too late, and Law didn’t want Zoro to be burdened by the idea of him not being able to protect his loved ones, so he planted a small auto-injecting syringe in Zoro’s earpiece that, when stabbed, the user will have their memories altered to forget a person’s existence. Before Law initiated that syringe’s actions, he morse-coded that he would never stop loving him, no matter what he may become in the future to come. The harsh reality was that Law felt the path he was to face after this face-off with Blackbeard would lead him back to his ways before meeting Luffy and them, and he didn’t want to face Zoro with all this. So he had to keep what they had together for himself, and save Zoro the misery and weight of the idea of his boyfriend ultimately becoming a criminal again.

*back to the present*

The afternoon light peeks gently into the apartment’s windows, the bed resulting in one body when two were evident during the night. Zoro grumbles at the light interrupting his sleep, sitting up and placing a hand on his forehead from the pain. He doesnt even remember returning to his apartment, nor the fact that he took off all his clothes and how messy his bed became. He knew he was a deep sleeper, but he never moved around like this. He paid no mind to it but would keep it as a note to install cameras for the future. His phone buzzed against the pedestal, and he saw Nami’s many texts and phone calls. Realising the time, he dashed to change and head back to work, unaware that Law was looking over him again; across the street, behind an alleyway with his usual shit-eating grin.

And every other day, the same routine occurred; Nami and Zoro would get a hint on how to eliminate Law, with Law popping up every now and again during the mission to toy with Zoro, drugging him so that he would never remember these experiences and have manipulative sex. Zoro would never understand why it was so hard to catch this guy; meanwhile, the whole time, Law has him wrapped around his tattooed finger.

im sorry if the ending is lowkey bums i've been writing this fic for weeks now and exmas are coming up, so i didnt want to leave this to be finished in June :/

[yourfriendlyneighbourhoodboytoy]

Trafficker D Stoner Law

[k-oimani1]

SPIDERM— MWAH -˚꩜｡- MARK LEE (이민형)

mark cant stop yapping about spiderman and you cant stop kissing him. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

“You don’t understand,” he says, wide-eyed, voice already three octaves too loud, “if Peter and Miles actually team up again and then 2099 shows up, that’s like—bro, that’s like—”

You hum softly against his lips, and he still doesn’t get the hint.

“—three different timelines! And—mmph—okay, wait—wait—babe,” he mumbles as you kiss him again, “I’m trying to explain the multiverse and you’re distracting me—babe—”

You kiss him harder.

Mark Lee, your sweet, nerdy, infuriatingly kissable boyfriend, is sitting on the couch in his Spider-Man hoodie (the Miles Morales one, obviously), gesturing with one hand and completely unaware of the way you’ve climbed into his lap like a lovesick koala.

His other hand? Firm on your waist, like it always finds its home there. His thumb’s rubbing lazy circles, up, down, up, down—like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Absent-minded. Natural.

And his lips—god, his lips—so soft, so pouty, so Mark.

“But if you think about it, like, Gwen and Miles—babe, I’m serious—they represent two different—mmhm—oh my god, you’re literally ignoring me right now,” he grins, nose scrunching as you pepper kisses along his jaw.

“I’m not ignoring you,” you murmur against his skin. “I’m just… appreciating you.”

“With your mouth?”

“Mhm.”

His laugh is all breath and heat, slightly shaky now, finally trailing off from his spider-rant. “You’re insane.”

“You’re talking about spider variants while I’m kissing you.”

“I was talking about variants,” he pouts, letting his head fall back against the couch, looking at you through thick lashes. “Now my brain’s melting. I had points to make.”

You kiss his pout. Then his cheek. Then his neck.

“Baby,” he groans, squirming just a little, “I had a whole theory—”

You slide your fingers under the edge of his hoodie, grip the fabric, kiss him again and again and again.

Now he’s not talking at all.

Just breathing in soft little stutters, kissing you back with those loser-lovey eyes like you put the stars in the damn sky.

“Your lips are so distracting,” you murmur against his mouth.

“You’re the distracting one,” he huffs, arms wrapping fully around you now, pulling you close, surrendering with one last grumble: “Spider-Man can wait…”

(He still tries to finish his theory ten minutes later—with you half-asleep in his lap, lips kiss-bruised and smiling.) finally some couple stuff !! *clap* *clap*

[ohmylaw]

𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝒅. 𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒆 ⠀﹒୨𝑒 fluff !! based on this ask

it wasn't strange for ace to do things that made no sense at all. he fell asleep in inconvenient places, stole food off others' plates when his was still full, in between other stuff. so, a midnight kitchen raid for a snack wasn't something out of the ordinary.

you were half asleep in the kitchen of the moby dick, leaning against a counter while ace dug through the cupboards for food. "you know," you mumbled, holding back a yawn. "normal people would ask thatch to cook something."

ace snorted. he had found a jar of pickles and was now trying to open it while talking to you. "normal people are idiots."

you smirked as he struggled to open the glass jar. even the strongest of men fumbled against the almighty air-tight seal. it was funny to think about it. "need help?"

"nah, i got— hmph, filho da puta—"

you blinked, not sure if you heard right. "what did you say?"

ace left the jar on the counter and looked back at you. in all of your years knowing him, you've never seen him look like this—like something caught him off guard. he gave you a dumb smile and scratched the back of his head.

"nothing."

"that was not nothing." you pointed at him accusingly. "what language was that?"

he continued to rub the back of his neck, suddenly avoiding eye contact. "uh... portuguese."

"portuguese?"

"mhm."

you stared at him. ace spoke another language? why didn't he tell you anything? and why did he look embarrassed about it?

"you never told me you spoke portuguese!"

he just shrugged, pretending it wasn't a big deal. "never came up."

"you cursed at a jar in another language..."

"it deserved it."

you burst out laughing. ace grinned a little at the sound, shoulders finally relaxing now knowing that you weren't making a huge deal out of it. you noticed the faint pink creeping onto the tipa of his ears.

huh, interesting.

"why are you embarrassed?"

"i'm not."

"you're blushing."

"it's hot in here."

you raise an eyebrow. "there's snow outside."

ace clicked his tongue. his hand took the jar once again and finally managed to pry it open. "you ask too many questions."

you hopped onto the counter beside him, suddenly feeling fully awake.

"say something else."

"no."

"please?"

"no."

"aceee."

he groaned dramatically, but there was no real annoyance behind it. you had him cornered and he knew it. he could never say no to you, not for real.

"...fine." he looked at you from the corner of his eye. "você é irritante."

your eyelids narrowed. "was that mean?"

a slow grin spread across his face. "maybe."

"translate it."

"no chance."

you kicked his shin lightly ans he laughed, warm and unfairly attractive for someone awake at this hour.

"c'mon," you whined. "you can't suddenly become mysterious and bilingual. that's mean."

"mysterious?" repeated ace with a bark of laughter. "but you know everything about me."

"apparently not."

he looked at you quietly for a second before speaking. his eyes shifted into a softer expression. with a lower tone, he said: "tá bom, meu amor."

"...what."

ace immediately realized his mistake. you watched the exact moment panic entered his soul with a confused look. he turned away so fast he almost knocked over the jar of pickles.

"you heard nothing."

"no, no, absolutely not." you grabbed his arm. "what did that mean?"

"nothing."

"ace."

"forget it."

"ace!"

his freckles dissappeared beneath a furious blush as he mumbled, barely audible: "it means... 'okay, my love.'"

your brain stopped working for a second. complete silence filled the room. then, with a high pitched voice, you said: "oh my god."

your boyfriend groaned, roughly palming his face. "i'm leaving."

"you just called me your love in another language!"

"i said i'm leaving."

you were laughing too hard to stop him as he buried his face in his hands. but, before he could escape, you caught the back of his tricep with your fingers.

"...say it again?"

ace peeked at you through his fingers. the look on your face absolutely ruined him. soft, sleepy, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars of that night's snowy sky himself.

that thin line on his mouth melted into a love-drunk smile. "...tá bom," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "meu amor."

sigh. yeah, you're never letting this go.

[acestattoo]

i wonder how yall would feel about an assassin zoro x criminal doctor law👀👀👀👀

[f5vetoru]

you and ace are having a silly little argument in your shared bedroom, something about him eating the last of the pudding that you'd been saving for tonight. and of course, he'd just shrugged it off with that sly little smirk of his, planting a soft kiss to your forehead — without even apologising.

and so here you are, eating his head off about the stolen dessert.

"you know i love that pudding and you know how difficult it is to get that around here!," you complain, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him from across the room.

"baby, i know," he huffs. "it's an honest mistake. what do you want me to do?"

"well you can at least offer to go and buy more for me!"

he lets out a little whine, treading towards you with careful steps because he can feel your stare searing into him, "that'd take me so much time! like. . . hours! isn't there anything else i can do for you?"

"hmph so you clearly don't love me," you scoff, a pout forming on your lips.

"don't say that now!," he whines again, shooting you the saddest puppy dog eyes. "i love you so much!"

"not enough to go get me my favourite dessert."

"doll. . . i'm just feeling a little tired now and it's getting late so —"

ace stops himself, face flushing a bright pink, the colour reaching to the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. you even swear you see a little bit of steam emitting off the top of his head. he's just staring at you, completely enamoured with little heart eyes shooting out of his eyes.

all because you'd lifted up your top.

"is this your way of getting me to do what you want?," he pouts, burying his face in between your breasts and gently fondling the supple skin. "because it's working."

"yay!," you squeak, ruffling his hair and tugging his head back so you could look at him. his eyes are soft and needy, lips curled into that giddy smile of his.

"you're an evil woman," he says, nipping your flesh and practically using your breasts as pillows now. "using your tactics to use me."

"you said it's working so get to it," you say in a stern voice, trying your best to stifle your giggling from seeing just how smitten your boyfriend is with you (well. . . mostly your bitties right now). "chop chop. i'm not waiting forever."

"gimme a moment," he mumbles, cheeks tinted an even deeper shade. "ace junior's getting too excited and he needs to calm down."

". . .please don't call your dick that ever again, ace."

"what about captain ace?"

"SHUT UP!"

[acestattoo]

Hey remz how are you?? 🤍🤍🤍I loved how you write law can I have more of him with girlfriend and how he would care and treat her and how he chased her at first when they were friends it could be smut/fluff and angst PLEASEEE

🫩🫩

heyyyyyy girlll 🤍🤍 sorry i took a bit to answer but i hope you enjoy it, i'm not too sure if its exactly what you wanted but i really hope you like it. thank you so much for requesting 🥹😘

My Chemical Romance

MDNI (18+) Synopsis: You and Law have been friends since the dawn of time, from seeing him sitting alone during lunch one day to becoming a couple at the end of high school, to attending the same university. Second year comes, he moves to a different campus, and you guys have been seeing each other less… cw: slight angst but idk if i wrote it right, smut, no use of yn for reader, sunshine reader/moon Law, Law whimpers, genital sucking (m receiving), sex with protection, im not kidding when i say Law moans a lot, university au, clit rubbing, alcoholism wc: 6k (also posted on my ao3) ----------------

“Wanna share juice boxes!!” you happily jump toward the little kid in his oversized snow leopard beanie. The kid looks up, his vitiligo-spotted face finished with eyes no kid should have; eyes of lifelessness. His eyes widen a bit at the realisation that you were asking him, “Huh?”

“Here!” you reach into your lunchbag and hand him a litchi juice box that you secretly packed with your favourite juicebox, “I stole one from the fridge today to give to you!” You place it in front of the kid, who looks at it blankly. You sat next to him and excitedly proclaimed your name and reached a hand out to him. He looks down at your tiny hand, then up to your bright expression on your chubby little face. “I’m Law. Trafalgar Law,” he nervously reached for your hand, which you shook vigorously. “Law,” you repeat to get a taste of the name, “okay, Law, from now on we’re friends!!”

“Friends?” Law asks, puzzled by the sudden proclamation of his and your new relationship.

“Yeah, friends! I didn’t like it when you sat alone during lunch breaks, and you look nice. I like you. And now that we shared juiceboxes, we’re never leaving each other’s side, okay?” You smile toward him, the sudden proximity making him reach for his beanie to cover his face. As you kept smiling at him, your gaze shifted down to the little doctor book he had on his lap. Your eyes glisten as you kneel down to check out the book. “You wanna be a doctor?! That's so cool!!”

He lifts his beanie a little bit higher, seeing your intrigue at his future occupation choice made him ease up a little, “yeah, my parents used to be doctors, I…i found them cool,” he quietly replied, turning the pages of the book. “Used to?” you question.

“They…they aren’t around anymore,” he rubs his arm a little, the conversation falling into the sensitive section, “I got into a foster family after they left with my sister. Everybody there is rough and mean, but Uncle Cora is really nice,” he faintly forges a smile. You felt like crying, but instead, you stood up and hugged him. “I’m sorry, Law. I’m sure they loved you so super very much,” you try to comfort him, “maybe one day we can have playdates! I wanna meet your uncle Cora too, I bet he’s the coolest person ever!” Law sniffles a little and nods, wiping away any tears forcing their way out. “Promise?”

“Promise!” You bring out your pinky to make the promise. He connects his to yours, and that was the moment you two became each other’s back to lean on.

“..we’ll continue on with the rest of these slides tomorrow, make sure to study for the class test this Friday!” your lecturer finishes off as you snap back out of your daze, realising you kept your pinky out for a good 10 minutes. You pack your bag and start heading back to your residence when you get a text.

Traffy🖤:  You done with classes? You: Yh Usual spot?? Traffy🖤:  See you in 10 You: :)

You put your phone away as you connect it to your earphones and speed up your walk to your dorm. You enter, toss your bag on your bed, change into more comfortable clothes and start blitzing down to the cafe down the street to your university. And as if on queue, you see your boyfriend propped up against the wall; long, spiky black hair, sideburns, piercings glamming his ears, eyebrow and lip, many silver chains contrasting his tanned skin and an all black outfit, rocking an MCR top and skinny jeans marked with white spots like it was a leopard. He turns his gaze and sees your usual cheerful self approaching him; a faint smile adorns his face. You reach him and give him a bear hug, almost squeezing the life out of him. “Too–tight!” Law barely breathes out before you release him, taking in a heavy amount of air to restore his lungs. “You need to work on your hugs, you might kill someone with that grip of yours.” he clears his breath as the two of you walk into the establishment, ordering your usual and heading to a corner booth. “I can’t help that you’re my favourite person ever,” you matter-of-factly reply, sitting down with your lunch. “How’ve you been, Traffy?”

“Y’know how first year in medicine is, too much vocabulary, not enough sleep if you couldn't tell,” referring to his newly formed eyebags, “I never understood why you call my Traffy and not my name,”

“It’s a cute nickname, unless you’re saying my nicknames for you suck balls,” you playfully pretend to be hurt as you take a bite of your food, “Low blow, Trafalgar D Water Law, low blow.”

“I never said it was bad, idiot,” he rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his americano, fighting a chuckle at your behaviour that hasn’t really changed since you two were kids. “And that’s Doctor Trafalgar D Water Law to you,” he sets his cup down and goes to pay for both your lunches, his pettiness never failing to entertain you. “Boy, whatever!” you scarf down the remainder of your lunch as you jog out to catch up to him, jumping on his back to set him off balance.

“Hey, watch it!” he exclaims, the imbalance you caused leading you two to fall on the pavement. “And here I thought you could carry me”, you scoff lightly, looking down at your floor-connected lover. He grunts as he turns around and rubs his forehead. The moment he turns his face to you, he realises what position you two are in; the proximity makes his body warm up. The way you basically pinned him down accidentally, with your legs practically cradling his lower body, Law prayed to God that a tent hadn't been erected underneath his jeans in that moment. There was a slight awkward silence before he guided you back to your feet, his head hung low to avoid you seeing the blatant blush infecting his face right now.

“Law? You good?” you chuckle, leaning down to take a peek at his face just for him to divert his view to the sky, continuing the stroll back to your dorm. “I’m fine you idiot, just got a nosebleed from our fall is all.” he wasnt completely lying; there was a red droplet edging to escape his nostril, but the red on his face was blood from the idea that someone he cared about deeply was mere centimeters away from his face, lips inches away from a cute hangout to something that shouldnt be seen on the streets. The fact that you stuck with his ass all these years and found his style super cool when others thought otherwise. You were the only other person to love him unconditionally, as his girlfriend.

When you two arrive at your dorm, you give him some tissue from the lobby and a less aggressive hug. “Sorry about that earlier, it’ll definitely happen again,” you smile into his chest, trying to ease the mood a little. Law rolled his eyes, but his arms moved slightly lower down your back, realising it was all subconscious, he moved them back up. “Might awaken a sixth sense just from your antics, I swear to god,” he replies as you both release the hug. “Surprised you haven't already had one, might just create a seventh sense for you no NCT,” you giggle, “Bye Traffy!” you wave off as you two go separate ways.

You’ve always loved Lawl, heck, when you saw the position you put him in earlier, your face didn't give away the same feeling your core did. You were just worried about how much time you would have with him since the year’s nearing its end and next year, Law’s not going to the same campus as you anymore, since first-year medical students must attend the main campus before moving to the hospital campus from second-year onward. That's why you became a bit more “affectionate” whenever you met up with him: the teasing, the bear hugs, the increase of physical touching you did in forms of nudging and random (failed) piggy backs you do. It’s all about enjoying the moments you two have together. And you keep telling yourself it’s not like he’s moving to another country; the only thing is that Law has been dedicated to his dream, he’s on the Dean’s list as a first year already, he’s that much of an academic weapon. Now that he’s moving further from you, he’ll be more locked up in his room or on campus than he is this year. He’ll be less willing to hang out due to the workload. That's what you feared: losing your boyfriend, who you love deeply, to his number one dream of being a surgeon.

***Timeskip a few weeks later***

The final exams for the year were tough as fuck, but you managed to pass all of your tests, Law obviously scoring distinctions and astounding marks. With the end of exam season and of the first year, you and Law decided to celebrate by going to an abandoned building’s rooftop somewhere in your town. The building was known for having an amazing view for a rundown building, so it was prohibited by law to trespass; you two, as obedient as you may seem, loved breaking a rule or two now and then. After crawling under the yellow tape, climbing the creaky stairs and jumping over a few walls, you two end up on the rooftop. Placing the picnic basket down with all your favourite snacks and some booze, you plummet down on the blanket Law just set down, turning on your small portable speaker for Law to connect to; some Deftones, Evanscene, and his all-time favourite band, My Chemical Romance, play softly as he settles beside you. “What a fucking year,” you breathe out, reaching down for a canned cocktail while Law settled for some gin. “Tell me about it, barely made it out with my sanity in check,”

“You’re one to talk, mister all-star academic,” you kid, cracking open the drink. “Don’t think I didn't bust my ass to get those marks as well,” he smirks, raising his plastic cup as you two clink your drinks, the full moon shining bright on you two and the city in the distance. 

A few more drinks and candy packets later, you’re swaying, but with Law’s help in ensuring that you don't sway to your demise down the building. “It’s not fair!! **hiccup**” You blabber, your nth drink held tight in your grip as you drunkenly turn your gaze to him. “What’s not fair?” 

“You're moving campuses!!” you exclaim, falling forward and your head landing on his chest, the proximity not fazing your drunken state but sending Law into overdrive. “Why do you have to go? I don't want to lose **hiccup** you,” you pout, looking up at him from your position. Law’s hands are still in the air, his body still frozen from the sudden position you two are in, looking down to see your cute, pouty face placed upon his chest. “Y’know I’m not moving to another country or something, right?”

“But Traffy~~” you whine as you lean more of your weight onto him, causing him to end up on his back and your hands on his chest, supporting your weight, “I don't wanna be separated from you!” Your loud energy started faltering as you felt sleepy and moved to lie on top of him. Mind you, since he’s able to hold his alcohol well, he’s experiencing this all with a sober mind. “Stay with me, please,” he murmurs quietly into the open air. He hesitantly brings his arms around you to try to comfort you, but with each inch, it gets more flinchy as you squirm on top of him, his mind fighting with his dick on whether to stand tall or not, clearly the latter winning. Law then hastily kept you still on top of him, trying not to avert your attention to his newly formed tent below as he rests your head by his neck, his face flush red and voice a little shaky. “I promise, I won’t abandon you. We’re never leaving each other’s side, remember?” his register deepens as he feels your slow breath by his ear. You start moving without thinking, placing a small kiss behind his ear, “Law,” you breathe, lifting your head to face his beet-coloured, slightly embarrassed expression. “We can’t, you’re under the influence. You’re gonna regret it,” he tries to shut down your actions, but you hold his face in both of your hands gently, gazing into his beautiful, golden irises. “Law, I wouldn’t be able to do this sober. We both know this. I wanna show you how I feel now before I regret not doing this sooner,” you state, your gaze flickering to his lips, bedazzled with two lip rings, before you slowly descend, eyelids feeling heavier as you get closer, before Law halts you again. “You–i… I don't think I can do this. Not while you’re under influence, I’m sorry.” he moves the two of you so you’re now sitting on his lap, he’s holding your hands gently as you gaze off into the city. “But..” he turns away from your quick gaze toward him, face still flustered and voice still low, “you can say what you feel now…if you want or whatever”

You look at your boyfriend, though his eyes aren’t looking at you, and his delivery was very brushed off; you knew that he was right. You couldn't make the moment more intimate whilst under the influence. There was silence before you finally answered, “I’m really glad we did this, we should do it more!” You tried to bring back the bubbly vibe, knowing you felt upset you couldn't express what you really felt. Ever since you two became boyfriend and girlfriend at the end of senior year, you two haven't done anything beyond kissing; just hand-holding and dates. Law felt the same, but he had to suppress his disappointment in himself and relieve the situation of any tension. “Yeah, this was very nice.” Knowing damn well he would've just thrown everything out the window and have you right there and then, he’d rather wait for you. As much as he wants your relationship to take deeper dive, he’d rather wait an eternity than to force you into something you don’t want to do.

**the next year, four months into the new year**

It’s been four months since you last heard from Law. You guys promised you’d text once in a while to check if you were still alive and kicking, but the last time he texted you was before the semester started. It’s now nearing semester one exam season, and not even a 10-second call just to hear each other’s voices. You were able to make a few friends on campus, just to distract your mind from your boyfriend’s weird disappearance that you had anticipated from the start.

“Hey, hey…ARE YOU LISTENING?!” you hear Luffy scream in your ear as you snap out of your daze, your burger’s sauce dripping onto your bottoms after the jolt. “Shit, sorry Luffy,” you apologise, grabbing a napkin to wipe it off, “what were you saying about Acebo?”

“Their names are Ace and Sabo,” he frowns, leaning back into his chair while Zoro and Vivi quietly finish their food. “You don't seem like you’re mind’s here.”

“Yeah, is something on your mind?” Vivi chimes in, seeing her friend space out more often than usual sends worry to her.

“Nah, nah, it’s just the usual; exams hehe,” you brush it off, as you pack your bag, “sorry, I’m gonna head to the library. I’ll catch you guys around.” and with that, you leave your friends to go to your residence instead. Removing your outside clothes, you plummet on your bed with a hoodie as you stare at the notifications on your phone: a few TikTok comments, Instagram recommendations and even Uber Eats sales. But no text or call from Law. Today, you felt fed up about it and decided to call him, in hopes that today might be different from the other days.

Ringing….

Ringing…

You’ve reached my voicemail, so I’m busy right now. Text me back because I hate calls.

“Fuck man, not again,” you groan as you hit your head against your pillow. You’ve tried calling him every single day. Seems he suddenly doesnt have time for his only girlfriend, huh? Fuckass bitch…you decide to rather leave him be, if he doesn’t want to call or text you, that’s on him. It doesnt seem fair for you to be putting all this effort into receiving nothing in return. You climb out of bed and text Vivi that you want to hit the club for some fresh air before going back to studying.

The nighttime arrives, Vivi swings by to your dorm with a few spritzers for pre’s. You dress up decently since you don't plan on wanting to be hit on tonight. You down most of the spritzers, each gulp in remembrance of every voicemail you’ve reached whenever you tried calling him.

“Fuck that guy,” you grunt, slamming the can on the counter as you crack another one, “who the fuck does he think he is? I was the one who cuffed him! Me! And what does this male specimen do?” you chug down a huge gulp, “He fucking ghosts me like my name is Danny fucking Phantom! Imagine the audacity!” Vivi couldn't say anything that wouldn't piss you off in her eyes, so she sat there and listened to you vent and chug booze until you felt you were tipsy enough to go clubbing. You order an Uber, and you two hit the club, the blasting music and strobing lights adding more dizziness to your tipsiness, but you feel like you need more. You order more shots and offer Vivi, to which she declines. You down them all as you feel less control over your body, the music taking control as you dance drunkenly on the dancefloor. You didn't want to think about him. Tonight was just for you to release your anger at him, which was going well until you subconsciously ordered an Uber to his place, with Vivi also in the car. Upon your arrival, you sway against the hallways up to his room. You didn't know or care why you were there, but you stood before his room door. Vivi decided to head to Koza, a friend of her’s who happened to live in the same residence. “Trafalgar D **Hiccup** Water Law, you better open this fucking door!” you yell as you bash your fist against the door. Before bringing your fist for a round two, you finally see him, standing 6’3 tall, in Sora's PJs and no shirt, revealing tattoos you’ve never seen before as he stared down at your drunken state.

“Why are you here at 4 am?” he yawns as he lets you inside, “did you go to the goddamn club or–”

“Shut up!!” you yell as you plummet onto his chair, your head meeting your propped-up hand to balance your heavy-feeling skull. “How fuckng dare you! No calls, no texts for four fucking months,” you hiccup, pointing your finger very poorly at your so-called best friend. “I knew this was going to fucking happen. You don't care about me.”

“Who said I didn't care? I was a little busy, you know this,” he tries to explain.

“A little busy?!” you scoff, “get a load of this guy. Is this the same fucking Law that still made time for his girlfriend last year DESPITE barely having time for casualty?!”

Law felt stumped. You did have a point, but he wanted to get his side of the story through. “Please just listen to me–” “I don't have to listen to shit you have to…say,” you felt your eyelids fail on you as the melatonin from all your drinking starts crashing onto you. You start falling forward before you feel arms catch you, and that's when you doze off.

The next day breezes over your hungover body, and the afternoon light beams through the living quarters as you slowly rise from your slumber. Your clothes are neatly folded beside you as you realise you’re wearing one of Law’s skull shirts, this one reaching your mid-thigh. Looking around, you see him by the kitchenette, still with the same look you barged into last night, making what seems to be onigiri and coffee. “Look who finally woke up,” bits of arrogance sprinkled in his words as he walks to you with two rice balls and a mystery drink. You rub your eyes, feeling the effect of the concerning amount of alcohol you consumed last night. He sits down beside you, places the plate down and hands you the drink. You look down at the drink, then back at Law, your brain still trying to register what’s going on when he then brings the liquid to your lips.

“Drink up, you idiot, it’ll help with the hangover,” guiding the rim to your parted lips. The drink flows down your throat; the taste is ever so bitter on your palate as you finish the drink. 

“I’m still mad at you, by the way.” Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turn to face the window, seeing the decent view he has from his room placement. Law sighs as he shifts closer to you, a hand slithering onto your bare thigh. “Can you let me explain at least? You always just jump to conclusions, and you seriously needa fix that.” he’s stern but sincere with his words. You felt a little guilty, but you held your own. You turn to face him, trying not to be fazed by the warmth of his tattooed thumb gently rubbing your skin. “Why did you ghost me? You haven't said anything since the day the semester started. Not a call, text or heck, even a fucking email. I got worried,” facing him sternly, you lay your problem to him straight, not beating around any bushes. “And the times when I tried to come to your apartment, you were never home, and when I go to the medic campus, I’m as lost as Zoro is on the daily.” Law listens attentively, a bit confused on the Zoro part, but we digress. “I got worried Law,” tears threatened to fall but you sniffle them back up, “I was afraid you were gonna move onto bigger things in life. I know it was just four months…but those were the longest four months ever. Life without my love, without you, wasn’t the same,” you mutter out before bringing your knees to your chest, hiding your face in that encapsulation. Law could only sit there, in his mind, he was doing backflips, frozen in place, and explosions were going off all simultaneously. “Well, are you gonna explain your side or what?” You bring your head up, wiping away a few streams from your face, ”Feeling mega vulnerable here La-” before you could finish, he brings a hand to your face, wiping away escaping tears. He didn't even realise his hand moved on its own, but he went along with it. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn't expect the second year to be as disastrously hectic as it was. I’ve been jumping from campus to in-hospital practicals; I barely had time to breathe. The only thing that kept me going was…the idea that I could see your face during recess,” he moves his other hand to your stunned face, tears falling regardless of whether you wanted them to or not. “I…,” he hesitates, his tan skin now a burning maroon colour as he tries his best to face his attention onto you, “I love you, you know that better than anyone else. Ever since you shared your juice box with me back in pre-school, I’ve been loving you. I wanted to make you mine for so long, but I either didn’t give the right signals or was afraid you’d reject me. When I mustered up the courage to ask you to be my girlfriend, I knew I had to put my all into it in the best way I could. Now, over a year later, I fucking blew it by ghosting you. I know I’ve not been the best boyfriend as of late, but with all that’s going on, I really wanted to see you, feel you and be wi–” your lips pressed desperately on his before he could finish his rambling. You just wanted to be with him in that moment. Law is stunned at first, but he slowly moves one of his hands to your nape and the other stays on your cheek, reciprocating the kiss back to you. What was in the air was no longer awkward tension, but the impatient desperation of months of zero contact that had finally disappeared the moment your lips clashed.

You deepen the kiss, leaning your weight onto him, lower onto the bed, pulling on his bottom lip, and your tongue begging for entrance, to which he allows. Law wasn’t used to this; heck, this was his first makeout session. He knew you had a boyfriend back in high school, but that relationship didn't last long. You still had experience; moving your hand down his bare torso, blindly tracing the black ink that decorated his pectorals and feeling the minute hairs of his happy trail. A groan left his lips, which you captured instantly, feeling your panties soak at how much effect you have over him. A smirk lies on your face as you continue kissing him, occasionally biting on his lip piercings that you found so sexy the day he did them without his uncle knowing. You move down to his jaw, where the flicks of his sideburns and little stubble start to form and place soft kisses there, his body stiffening at the sensation. “First time, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” he murmurs, a voice crack evident in those two words and a little whimper escapes his lips when you nibble at where his shoulder muscle meets his neck; a small purple mark paints itself on his skin. You continue laying kisses down his chest, admiring the linework of his tattoos on his shoulders, pecks and even on his abs. All while this is happening, Law is stifling groans and whimpers from how good your soft lips feel on his skin. It’s all too overwhelming for him, but it didn't matter. All he wanted was you. He regretted it heavily that night you two were on the rooftop. He wanted that to happen so badly, but he didn't want you waking up to regrets. Now, that time has arrived, with you slowly pulling down his pants, his cock, which previously tented the area, now springs up. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he turns his gaze away, eyes squeezed shut at the fear of what your reaction would be to his throbbing member leaking precum like a squirt bottle on the verge of exploding. What he did not expect was a wet feeling moving up the hardened flesh, reaching the tip and wiping off said precum. He hesitantly opened one eye to see you flicking up your tongue and tasting him, your eyes glued to his as if waiting for a sign to continue. At that, a small moan escaped his lips, which you took as a sign to continue pleasuring him as you slowly sink your mouth onto his dick, the size being a bit bigger than you expected. A loud groan left Law’s throat at the sight and feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him whole, his tip tickling your uvula, only stimulated him more. That's when you started moving up and down, wanting to taste him more and feel how much he wanted this. How much he wanted, no, needed you. While bobbing up and down his member, you feel a hand grab your hair sternly but not too painfully, controlling your movement as many whimpers and groans leave his lips. “Oh fuck, ah-agh! You’re -ahh- so good…at this,” he barely manages to let out between intakes of air as you move slightly faster; the control Law thought he had on you no longer evident. You move your hands to his thighs, feeling them tense up as he gets closer to his climax. “Fuck--fuck! I-i’m gonna ahh fuck!” he stutters as he releases in your mouth, streams of cum fly through your throat, which you swallow whole whilst coming up from him with a ‘pop!’ from his cock.

“You taste so good Law. I wonder what other sounds I can get out of you,” you query, crawling up to him as you cradle yourself onto his weakened cock and slowly rotate your hips around it. Law seethes at the feeling, his mind still high from his first release, yet you wanna go for round two. “Wait! I-I’m n-not ready–” “Can’t let this opportunity go a second time, Traffy,” you coo as you rise up and seductively remove your already soaked panties, revealing your dripping core to your hot-and-bothered boyfriend. You reach for one of his hands and bring it toward your clit, making him rub circles around it. “You see what you do to me, I’ve been wanting this-ahh– for a long while,” you breathe out, the sensation of his inked, calloused fingers moving around your bud giving you euphoria. Law doesnt know if he should feel ecstatic from the feeling of touching you in places he could only dream of or perverted for letting his girlfriend guide his hands to their sensitive spot. Nonetheless, you lower your hips again, feeling his cock rub through your slit. Both of you exhale moans at the sensation before you position his tip at your entrance, looking up at him. “Do you want me raw, or do you have protection we can use?” you bite your lip, not minding either option because of how heated you felt and how much you needed him inside you. Law pants at a quickened pace, catching his breath before reaching for his nightstand and taking out a condom packet. “C-can we..use protection?”  he tries to ask nonchalantly, but the stifling in his voice makes him sound inferior, only turning you on even more. “Preparing for this moment now, are we, Traffy? God, you're so hot I can't wait to ruin you.” The words leaving your lips came from an unknown confidence you gained, probably from the in-the-moment discovery of making love to men, or more specifically, Law, when they’re vocal and submissive. You take the packet, rip it open with your mouth before pinching the tip of the rubber and sliding it down his dick, the remains from his first ejaculation quickening the process. Once the condom is on properly, you position yourself on his tip again, easing yourself onto him, a moan you've never heard escapes both your mouths at how you fit around him and how much he stretches you out. You two stay like this for a bit, making sure your insides are well-adjusted to the volume he is taking up. You pant, but Law is panting louder and faster, eyes squinting as he twitches inside you. “Do,” you heave, “do you want me to move?”

His strength is faint, but he moves both of you for him to lay his head on the headboard, hands moving down to cup your ass. “Whenever…whenever you’re ready”

And with that, you slowly move up, the emptiness of him not being in you feeling evident, but not for long before you descend again, setting a slow pace for you two to adjust. When you get the right feel for it, you place both your hands on his chest as leverage as you continue to bounce on his dick, the stretch around your walls sending you to the skies, but Law’s flustered and pained face boosts you to the heavens. “Ack! Fu-fuckk,” he groans, tightening his grip to make you move faster on him, more moans leaving his mouth. God, I haven't heard him moan this much ever. This is so fucking sexy, he’s so goddamn fine like this, and he doesnt even know it. You lean down to kiss his flustered face, your lips already swollen from the earlier makeout session, as you slither one of your hands into his raven hair; the softness makes you slam against his pelvic area faster as you start reaching your climax. After releasing from his lips, you lean back, lifting the oversized shirt above your breasts to stimulate yourself more. The final cherry on top was when Law let curiosity get the best of him (and the fact he thoroughly went through female and male arousal anatomy in his free time, his only guity pleasure he’s taking to the grave) and moved one of his hands back to your soaked opening, moving his thumb calculatedly around your nub, flicking and pressing to see what sounds came out of you. “Ah-ahh! Law!! I’m close-!” you let out, a whine finishing it off as you move to rest your head on his chest, your juices crashing onto his cock like a waterfall as you pant out. Seeing you passed out like this made Law cum right after you, a first and only thrust made inside you by him; the strength bobbing you up a bit as you gaze down and see the dripping of your juices and the white coaxing his cock leaking out the bottom of the condom. 

Both of you are now heaving, you slowly take him out of you as you collapse your weight onto him, your head resting under his chin as he lays a hand on your semi-clothed back. “Now you know how much I missed you, dummy,” you whisper, tracing over his chest and arm tattoos. Law looks down at you, and a small smile rests on his face, one that you weren't aware was evident. “I do,” he then looks up at the ceiling, “I’ll try texting more, so that you don't have to barge in my room drunk at 4am anymore.” You giggle, shifting your weight on your elbows as you see his small stubble and swollen lips. “You'd better. But that won't stop me from randomly barging in your room,” you joke as he looks down at you, his brows drawing together at your words. “Not drunk though. This was a one-time thing, I promise.”

“Can’t trust you on that one. You never follow up on your lighthearted promises, idiot,” he smirks, a hand squeezing your cheeks. “I love you, dummy”

“Love you too, you idiot”

You two then got up to go clean yourselves and the bed sheets before moving back to the mattress to rest, Law putting on some My Chemical Romance in the background. You still had tests to study for, and he still had practicals he had to go to, but fuck those. You two really needed that moment, so you collectively decided that today was your day off, seriously promising to text each other, the wait not being longer than three weeks between texts. Law learned that the hard way last night. He noted to never test your patience unintentionally ever again. Or maybe he should; it got him arguably one of the best (and only) intimacies he’s had in his life. Nevertheless, he couldn't bear making you upset like he almost did, and now that both of you cuddle close on his bed, he made sure (but not in a flashy way) that from now on, you were to be treated as the best girlfriend ever, even though you two were on different campuses.

For you two, uncannily, completed each other. Locked in for life, and that's what it will stay like; you two decided on it in that very moment.

[acestattoo]

Pump It Up

pairing: mechanic!True form Sukuna x streetracer! black reader Synopsis: your last mechanic bailed out on you, so your best friend mentions his older brother, and you go give him a try, not realising what a piece of work he actually is (not just in the garage…) (This is set in the late 90s/early 2000s) Cw: illegal street racing, misogynistic mentions, p in v, porn with plot, creampie, Sukuna has two dihs and four arms, riding, eating out (f & m receiving), Sukuna is his own warning, N*oya is his own warning, no use of y/n for reader wc: 8.1k also posted on my ao3 here

Life in the fast lane, that's how you always lived it. And every time, you'd come out on top, that’s just the tip of your skills. As you swerve the final corner before speeding down the straight, you ignite your Nitrogen boost and zoom! You clear the rest of the pack by a ten-second gap. Upon finishing, you swivel your car and hit hard on the brakes, leaving a smoke trail behind you as you bump up the bass in your car, seating yourself on the car window frame as you raise your hand in victory. The crowds all run up toward you, many cheers and screams as the reigning champion, you, hold your flawless victory streak tonight. The other cars follow up only a little after, slowing down behind the crowd.

“Fuck! I was so close!” Gojo slams his door as he steps out his car, Getou following up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “face it, Satoru; this the only time you can't use your ‘sole exception’ motto bullshit,” he chuckles, Gojo knowing danm well at the back of his best friend’s mind, he's cursing the fuck out of you.

In the midst of your victory celebration, the ringing sound of the police starts surrounding the area, an immediate sign for you to hop back in your car and dip. And that you did, revving up your engine before pulling off with ease and haste before they could even see your car. When you reach quieter streets, you hear that your brake pedal starts squeaking like crazy, along with your front right tyre having a bumpy feel, which is a possible issue with your brake fluids and a puncture. “Fuck, not again,” you groan as you take out your flip-phone and dial up your bestie.

“PAPER NEVER DOWN?!” the voice on the other side screams.

“CUZ THE VIBE IS ALWAYS UP!!” you reply, a huge smile plastered on your face as you cruise through the night, “Wassup Yuji?” “Ah, you know, just playin' video games with Todo,” he replies, the sound of him collapsing on the couch evident in the breath he exhaled, “what’s up?”

“We got a 217 buddy,”

“Again?! Dude, you gotta be more careful with your car, repairs don't come cheap,” Yuji sighs and reminds you, “can you go by yourself this time, this game is super tight, and I’m so close to TKO-ing Todo right now– BUTTON SMASHING TIME– I’ll catch ya,”

“No, wait, Yuji hollon–” and he hung up in an instant. “Great, just great.” The only reason you let Yuji take your car to repairs is that the mechanic you found has some weird hatred toward female drivers, be it regular or a street racer, so when guys swing by, they get their repairs done at lower prices. You sigh and start heading there, already predicting the outcome.

After the final turn, ahead of you, you see the huge traditional Japanese-style banner that says “Zenin Mechanics Inc.” You take in one more breath as you slowly enter the garage, welcomed with many machines buzzing and an ungodly amount of men at work. You park your car in the parking lot and walk up to the reception table. “Hey, um, I’m looking for Naoya Zenin?” you ask politely, putting up a facade because you really don't fuck with the vibe they got going here. You glance down at her nametag, “Wife of Ogi”, before looking back up to her monotonous face. She looks at you, from the top down, then starts typing on her computer  before tapping a button on her telecom,

“Noaya Zenin to the reception table, please.”

You thank her silently and wait patiently, many stares bore into your figure as the weird smell of misogyny gets stronger. A tall, green-haired man stunts closer to the reception, head held up so high you’d think there was an invisible stick pushing it up.

“That’s Vice-President Naoya Zenin to you, old hag,” he spat at the old lady, her expression not changing as she quietly apologised and bowed her head. “This young…lady is here to speak with you,” she gestures her hand to you as you bow slightly at the arrogant man.

“Hi, Mr Ze- i mean ‘Vice President Zenin’,” you start, already hating the taste of how that sounded in your mouth, “I’m here in place for Yuji Itadori. See, his car has some problems with the brakes and the tyres, I think it might be the–”

“I’mma stop you right there blackie,” he lifts his hand to stop you from talking. Blackie?! Who does this motherfucker think he is?!”

“Blackie–” you quietly repeat at the sheer audacity he had,

“Females, especially of your…species, should not blabber more than 5 words at me. And if it involves cars, not a peep should come out of you,” he says with a smug grin on his face. Oh, how you wanted to punch the living shit out of him at that moment, but you kept your composure, taking a deep breath. “Sir, I just need you to fix my– I mean, his car,” you say bluntly, trying your hardest to suppress your anger.

“Tch, why would a high-end man like me help a lowly, blabber-mouthed, car-enthusiast wannabe female like you? a black female at that,” his face contorted to that of disgust as he turned around and walked away, “what a waste of breath, tell your Jiyu friend or whatever the fuck his name was, to go look for another mechanic if he’s gonna send females of colour to this prestigious establishment.” he waves off as he disappears in the crowd of mechanics. You start charging him, but slow down when you remember you could serve jail time since these guys are part of the top 5% taxpayers of the country, so you drop it and head to Yuji’s place.

Upon reaching the shared modern-style one-story house, you park your car next to Choso’s blood red skyline. You jump out of your car, barge into the house (since you're a regular there) and hop onto the couch, the buoyancy of the couch offsetting Yuji and Todo as you groan and look up to the ceiling fan. 

“I assume things went shit,” Yuji commented, his eyes glued to his game. “I told you that you should go, I just lost my mechanic, dude,” you whine, reaching for some popcorn on the table. 

“Hey lil sis,” Choso casually calls out, walking past the kitchen with his earphones connected to his mixtape clipped on his waist.

“Yo cho-bro,” you call back, your head still facing the ceiling.

“Well damn. FUCK!” Yuji exclaims as Todo snags another win from their Mortal Kombat fight, making him toss his controller to the coffee table with a notable thud. “Brother, it don't matter how many times you lose; juss know you mad strong challenging me, you catch my drift?” Todo comforts him as Yuji stands for a stretch. “Man, whatever,” he brushes off, then remembers your complaints earlier, “Why don’t you hit up my brother for a fix-up?”

“Broski,” you look at him like he thinks you’re dumb, “Choso can’t even fix dinner, I’m not sure his ass can fix my whip.”

“Nah, not Choso, my other older brother,” he raises his arms before falling back onto the couch, nearly making it flip back with Todo.

“Other brother? You never told me about him?” Adjusting your seating on the other couch, you raise your back and rest your chin on your propped-up arms on your knees.

“That’s cuz my old man doesnt consider him family. Told me to never regard him as my brother cuz of some shit he got into throughout his life. ‘Parently, he has been to jail more times in 10 years than the amount of achievements he can actually be proud of, you ain't heard that from me though,” he whispers that last part, making you eye-roll at your best friend. “Otherwise, I’d argue he's the best in the block; so long as you're on his good side, which is already a challenge in itself.”

“So I’m just hearing that this nigga’s bad news ‘ji,” you cross your arms and lean back on the couch.

“Since when did bad news ever stop you, girl?” Some sass is thrown in that question, as if he’s challenging you to test out his brother’s mechanical skills. 

“Okay, hotshot, since you rate him so high, where’s he placed?” You stand up, crossing your arms and facing Yuji’s smug face head-on.

“Oh, that’s the fun part: you don’t find him, he finds you. And trust me when I say: once he’s got his eyes on you, it’s only a matter of time before he pounces.” his snaggle fang peeks out of his flashy grin, growing a smug smile on your face as well. “You don’t say? Bet, I’ll get his attention. One way or another.” bringing up your arm to link with Yuji’s as you head out their crib; determined to get yourself a new mechanic: Yuji’s older, notorious brother.

“Ah, wait! Who’s gonna fix my car in the meantime?!”

“I know a guy! I’ll call him up!” Todo shouted before you closed the door, reopening it to stay in the house while Todo’s friend makes his way over.

 A few weeks have passed since your little challenge with Yuji; with every race another win on your belt, the only thing is you can't find this mystery older brother at the races. Which is odd since Yuji said he just goes to see who’s the toughest, most badass driver in the lot. Making your way to the cluster of cars and people, you keep your eyes alert for him, the only thing you remember about Yuji telling you was that he had short pink-red hair and a shit ton of piercings. Which you’d think would help, if not for the variety of hair colours people have rocked up with tonight. Breathing out a sigh, you park your car next to a red and white Subaru Impreza. Jumping out, you sit yourself by your boot, the loud music from other cars blasting through the night, when a smaller figure pops up from beside you, their monotonous voice cutting through the noisy music.

“The boss has been watching”

“Jesus!” you jolt, the figure catching you off guard, “you scared the shit outta me. Wait, what’d you say?”

“He’ll be expecting five more wins from you before he introduces himself to you. I’ll be taking my leave,” and with that, the figure, who adorned a white bob with red highlights, slightly bowed before entering their car and drove off into the night, only leaving you confused. Until you realised that could be one of Yuji’s older brother’s workers. The thought exhilarated you, seeing as you only needed to win 5 more races before you secured a mechanic (hopefully). On your cruise back to your place, you feel a presence staring into your being and soul, like they’re waiting ever so patiently to pounce on their newly found prey. Shivers shudder down your spine as you slow down and take a quick view out and around the area, hoping it’s just some cop who was put on nightwatch. Nevertheless, you couldn't detect where this ominous presence was hiding, so you disregarded it, speeding up a little for extra precaution.

“That car is on the edge of fallin’ apart, it’s a goner by her fourth race,” a villainous, deep voice rumbles in the night, a puff of smoke filling the air.

“Trust me, she’s got this in the bag!” another voice pipes up, “now can you please get me down from here?! I was having the best dream eve-”

“Shut up, you twat,” the voice snaps, edging the other person closer to the edge of the rooftop, “unless you wanna see the tenth reason why I went to jail”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks pass, and you’ve now won four more races, only needing one more to catch Yuji’s older brother’s attention for good. You can’t even lie, there was something nerve-racking about the situation you were in; it wasn’t even from the fact that you were lined up with the best in the block, you knew you would win with ease. The problem was that you wouldn't know if your car would hold up. With every passing race, you became more reckless with each attack and gap you widened, pulled, and squeezed through, the squeaking between the axles grew increasingly louder, your car occasionally stalled at every start, and you’re running short on NO gas for your pull-offs. While chilling with your girls by the river, your mind drifts to tonight’s race, keeping in mind all that's wrong with your car.

“Hey,”

“Heyyy,”

“HEY FOCUS!!” Nobara snaps in front of you, retrieving you from your trance and train of thought. “So, you down for a girl’s night out this Tuesday? Drinks on Maki!!” she brings our evergreen-haired friend into a shaking embrace, the latter escaping Nobara’s grip and fixing her glasses. “Mightve stolen a couple thousand from my cousin’s workshop, no biggie. Fuck ‘em anyway,” a smug grin paints her face, and she looks at the two of you.

“Girl, you know I’m always down, but Tuesday?” You slightly cringe at the date, “What happened to party on the weekends?”

“That’s the best part!” Nobara grabs your shoulders, a slight jolt passes through you, “word on the street saying Hakari’s throwing the party of the year cuz of some racing shit going on this weekend!! He placed a mega bet on all the racers and is getting hella bank, regardless of who’s winning,” she shrieks in excitement, “Hakari NEVER throws parties, ‘less it's the real deal, and you know we’re going. No excuses,” you just compliantly nod, knowing that you can't turn it down. “I also heard that he’s inviting the winner up to his vip circle, so everything they get with their plus ones is on the house. Ooooo, how I wish to know someone who could race,” she dramatically leans against the railings, Maki rolling her eyes and a snicker leaving your lips. Winner gets vip access, huh?? 

Now, looking at the situation, this could be your make-or-break. If you win the race happening tonight, not only do you get your new mechanic, you also get vip section to the party of the year with your friends. The other thing, though, if you lose this race: no mechanic, and we gotta let Maki pay for our drinks and shit. The loving friend that you are, you despise the idea of your homegirls paying for things on your behalf, so you had to, no, MUST win the race tonight, even if you had to drag that car shell with your bare hands over the finish line.

It's about two hours before the race starts, you’re observing the vehicle before you: a semi-cracked left bulb, scratches along the side that seem beyond buffable, tyre trek beginning to smooth out and an exhaust pipe hanging on by a thread at the back. Just seeing the external damage made you cringe at the idea of what’s fighting for its life internally, which you didn't want to imagine. Sighing out, you walk up to your baby and slide your hand across it, the glisten of the nonnet under the garage light bringing empathy to your heart, leaning down to gently pat the car. “One more race, girl, I promise I’ll get you fixed up. We got this,” and with that, you place a small peck just above the body quarter of the shell before entering it to head to the final race turf: Shibuya.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd expected it to be full after the whole Hakari rumour, but Jesus, full is an understatement. You’d think that Michael Jackson was performing here with how the turnout was. Barely squeezing your car through the crowds, you manage to find a spot near your favourite arrogant driver’s white Ferrari Testossora. “Well, if it isn't my favourite melanin queen of the streets?” he coos as you get out the car, blaring your music, trying to counter all the other sounds going around.

“Oh, zip it, Satoru, you ain't getting to me, and we both know it,” you roll your eyes before dapping him up. “Eh, worth the try, boo,” bringing down his glasses to show off his mesmerising blue eyes in a wink. “You heard about the bets placed on us?” leaning against his car, you huff out a breath, “Yeah, talking ‘bout some winner gets vip access to the biggest party in Japan. I’m winnin it, regardless of the reward” fidgeting with the rings on your fingers and looking at your car, knowing deep down you were’nt too certain if you were even certain you’d win, but you werent gonna let your doubt cloud your judgement. Satoru could see your slight doubt under your overly-confident persona, but decides not to say anything, for once being the bigger person.

The crowds began to clear paths across the streets, indicating that the race was going to start. Entering your car, you take a deep breath, slowly caressing your wheel for reassurance to both yourself and the car. Starting the engine, you follow the other cars towards the start line, which was at one of the crossroads in the middle of Shibuya. A woman started seductively walking to the middle of the line, a red bandana gripped tightly in her left hand, raised up to the heavens. You bring your consciousness within to calm yourself and begin whispering your mantra.

You got this...

“Three!...”

Who’s the baddest bitch in the streets…

“Two!...”

You the baddest bitch in these streets!!

“One!...”

Let's win this!!

And the moment she swooped her arm down, you and the other racers pulled off. Well, at least, they pulled off. Your car stalled…again.

“Fuck! Not now, baby!” you panic, eventually getting her to restart, and you begin your chase to catch up to the other cars. You manage to catch up to the lackey along the straight and just before the turn, they try to do a late braking technique to cut you off; you, of course, knew of that trick all too well. Just as they essentially both brake check you and cut you off, you swerve on their outside, drifting your car along the edge of the pedestrian pathway and manage to get the upper hand on them. One down, five to go. Gaining on the next three racers, seeing their blue, orange and yellow undercar lights, you notice their bickering with how each of them either brake checks the other or the way they threaten each other’s lives by forcing them into near collisions. You decide to hold back until another corner comes along to see how each would attack it. The blue-lighted car swerved wide, causing the other two to enter the gap, but they weren't quick enough; by the time blue had to align themselves, they collided into the other two, causing an accident on the right side of the track. “ ‘least I didn’t needa do anything,” you giggle as you swiftly breeze past them, now with Satoru, Suguru and that Impreza from the other day. 

The final two corners are coming up, the crowd is going insane as you close the distance between the other three cars. First corner comes, all four of you drift across it with ease, no collisions or bump-ins, making all four of you in line with each other. The last corner comes along, Satoru does a late brake to gain more traction on the takeoff, and the rest of you tackle it as any other corner. Satrou has the lead while you, Suguru and the Impreza are line-in-line; the finish line within sight. You breathe in as you gaze down to your nitro boost, saying some internal prayers before flicking up the lid to the button. Once again, within these last few seconds before the winner is announced, you feel that terrifying, mysterious gaze upon you; shivers are sent down your spine aside from the car’s vibrations. Time it right…

Satoru has increased the gap.

Time it right…

Only a couple hundred metres before the winner is decided.

Almost there

It looks like Satoru might take the wi-

Wait a minute!!

The monstrous gaze that you felt seemed to shift the moment you pressed the nitro button in your car, boosting you ahead of the other two cars, a literal photo finish against you and Satoru. As you gain more control over your car, the crowd erupts in excitement and curiosity about who won the race. After a few more minutes of waiting, you notice dark pink hair and a monstrous figure make its way out of the crowd and into the darkness. You suspect who it might be, but your thoughts get interrupted by the sudden mob surrounding your car. Out of instinct, you hoot to make them back up a little, then it clicked that you won the race. “I…won? I WON?! I FUCKING WON LETS GO!!” squealing in joy, you jump onto the window frame of your car to bask in the glory of the victory you and your baby were able to attain. You see Satoru internally cursing himself behind the facade of him congratulating you, making the feeling of winning feel even more satisfying. 

Your phone begins to ring in your cupholder. Seeing that it’s Yuji, you get back in your car to go get ready for Hakari’s post-race party.

“Yo Jiji!! I won!!” screaming in your car in excitement as you continue speeding back to your place. “I heard from my brother!!”

Your heart skips a little, “your…brother?? The mechanic one?!”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about meeting with you at the party or something, I don't know,” You hear Yuji opening a packet of chips as he continues, “I can't remember cuz he was bullying me while he called me”

“Shame, man, okay, I’ll see you at the party!” finishing the call with a squeal as you place your phone down and head back to your apartment. Parking your car by the pavement, you make your way to your apartment door when you see a figure. Not any regular figure, though; this one was MASSIVE. Standing about 7 feet high, super muscular like a rugby player, short spiky pink hair flaring in every direction,  and….another pair of arms? Out of fear, you slowly back into your car until you hear the figure speak.

“You my lil punk of a brother’s friend that needs their car fixed?”

The rumble of his voice sent so many shivers through you, you’d swear a tremor happened right underneath you.

“S-sorry?”

“Yuji Itadori. Is that yo lil best friend or not?” The way he speaks, he doesnt seem like the kind to enjoy repeating himself.

“Y-yeah, and? Are you his big brother mechanic he told me about?” You stow away your fear to avoid getting killed or something (at least, what you assume might happen if you back away).

With that, the figure grunted and walked out of the shadows of your apartment’s entrance, revealing what the silhouette was hiding. Seeing him properly, not only was he massive and multi-limbed; he was adorned with black tattoos surrounding his arms and face, eyebrows, lips, nose and ears pierced, and fierce ruby eyes stared down into you, as if to rip into your very being. Not to mention, he was fine, like could’ve been featured on Boon or asayan magazines. You swear you could somehow feel a pool in your panties at the mere intimidation of him before he pushed past you and analysed your car.

“Can I at least get a name, mr -pushes-past-girls-to-look-at-cars?” turning to face him at the audacity of forcing his way to your car. The figure leans down to continue eyeing your car, “Ryomen Sukuna, Sukuna to you, woman.”

“Okay, Sukuna. You think you can fix it?”

Without saying anything, he gestures for you to give him your keys. After a few more moments of not doing anything, he straightens before looking down at you, his figure encapsulating you behind nothing. “Do you want the damn car fixed or nah?”

“Why should I give my car to you? Can’t I just take it to your garage or somethin’?”

He groans and pinches his node bridge, his canines glistened with decorations of teeth jewels and the bling of his snake bites in the street lamps. “Don’t you have a party to go to or something, woman?”

“Oh, I do,“ an attitude growing in you, just to see what his character is like, “I could always just take my car to your place tomorrow.”

“Do that, and I’d turn you away immediately. Don't test me,” he glares into your eyes. Seeing that you won't budge, he picks you up and drops you into your car, seating himself in the passenger seat. “Drive.”

“What?”

“Drive, woman. I’m fixing it now, whether you like it or not.” The threat was meant to scare you, but you just agreed because you knew if you jumped out, he was gonna use his beefy arms to drop you back into your car (and he highkey could kill you at this very moment if you wasted any more of his time). So with that, you started your car and allowed him to lead the way to his garage.

The drive was quiet: the faint sound of your playlist playing through the speakers, the cool breeze of the Tokyo night intertwining with yours and Sukuna’s hair. Your eyes occasionally diverted to his body; those arms that throw a whole car at will, those thick thighs that could suffocate you if you stared at him the wrong way, the black ink snaking around his wrists like the newest Rolex, except instead of showing wealth, it showed strength and violence, all the things he has done and could do from his criminal record. Something about him, though, sounds every alarm in you to not even try, makes you want him to absolutely ruin you. You can't put a finger on it, but your uterus knows word for word what you mean.

“You like what you see?”

His words snap you out of your mind as you blink at him, “Huh?” “You keep starin’.”

“Can’t blame me. I couldn't get a proper view since the street lamp by my apartment is dim” You turn your gaze back onto the road. “What’d you go to jail for?” you attempt to ask, trying to strike up some small talk to be rid of the painful awkwardness. “Many things, woman. Yet somehow, I work as a mechanic. Funny how hands that once were covered in blood are now stained in oil and grease.” You nod as you both near the garage, only wanting to know about him and why he was discarded by his family. “You only got tats on your wrists and face?”

“You ask too much.”

“I don't know anything about you, but I feel like you know too much about me.”

“So persistent. I can see why you’re that punk’s friend,” he rolls his eyes as you park the car and both of you jump out of the car. “Not too much on Yuji, had he not said anything, we wouldn't be in this situation.” All he does is tsks while you wander around the building, taking note on how short-staffed it is, yet the size is astounding.

“Man, you one lonely nigga, you got any workers around, or is it just you?” “Just Uraume, now let me work, woman,” he begins pushing the car onto the carlift with his bare hands. After lifting the car up, he takes off his casual top to reveal his beefy stature, his six-pack somewhat buried behind the dad-bod belly, his arms flexed out more and back muscles carved by the heavens. Surprised at his bare strength and ethereal body, your core only wants more, but you need to control yourself, or he’d notice.

While working on your car, you couldn't help but stare more, simply infatuated by him working and the grease of your car staining his body parts, only adding more to the appeal. He’s made aware of this. “Is starin all you do?”

“You did it to yourself, Kuna”

“Kuna?!” he gets ticked off at the nickname.

“You took off your shirt in a room where it's just you and me, and you expect me to look elsewhere? Newsflash, buddy, elsewhere looks boring as fuck”

He drops his arms, wrench gripped tight in one of his arms as his lower right arm reaches for a rag and approaches you. “Well, find somethin’ else to do, ‘cuz it’s setting me off”

“Setting you off how? That a pretty woman is sitting in your garage alone and is admiring your being as you work your muscles on her car?” you bite back, feeling the tension between you two growing more chaotic. The stare-down he’s giving you is only turning you on more. Yuji’s been hiding HIM from me? Should've known about him sooner… 

He sees that you’re not backing down yet again, and an evil smirk paints his face, his canines shining in the building’s lights

“You think I’m set off because you’re ‘pretty’? You’re so fucking full of yourself, aren't you?” his tone is low, still towering your sitting figure.

“Whatchu gonna do about it, Kuna? Set me straight?” you challenge, now standing to assert your stance. 

“You just beggin for it, aint ya? You’re gonna miss your celebratory party if you keep this up,” he crosses his lower arms, the chewing gum you didn't realise he was chewing being evident in his grin as he bores into your unwavering face. “I’m sure my friends can wait a lil longer for their drinks,” you hook onto his silver chain, “besides, it seemed you couldn't get enough of me from the moment Yuji mentioned me; watching my races, stalking me from the ceilings like you’re Batman and finding out where I stay. It’s just screaming how bad you want me.”

Sukuna cakles, his laugh sending reverb throughout the empty building, “say what you want, 

Woman. Keep staring at me like that, and I’d do things that’ll leave you ruined for life,” he leans closer.

“I’m willing to take that risk Kuna,” you whisper back. Before any of you could make a move, the crescendo sound of a car speeding through releases you both from your world. Sukuna looks up and sees that it’s Uraume, internally ticked off at the horrendous timing they have. You notice that it’s the same red and white Impreza from the race, connecting the dots and realising that that’s Sukuna’s other (and only, apparently) worker.

“Boss,” they step out of the car and bow, noticing both of you backed against one of his workbenches. 

“Uraume, you’re dismissed for the night. I got this one,” Sukuna says bluntly, the undertone of leadership just makes you want to jump him right there and then, regardless of an audience. Surprisingly, they don't argue or question him; instead, they bow once again and scurry to the back room to collect anything that they’ve left during the day. Sukuna turns back to you, and the heated tension you two were building more or less evaporates in an instant. He just huffs and returns to fixing your car, leaving you in heated anger. Fuckass Uraume…

After Uraume returns to the garage with their bag, they quickly bid farewell to Sukuna before re-entering their car and driving off, leaving you two back at “square one”. bored once again (because of that cock block), you turn to your flip-phone, noticing the many texts from Nobara and Maki asking where you’re at. You just quickly answer them, saying you’re getting your car fixed and go back to fidgeting. Fidgeting now became boring, you looked up to see Sukuna facing your direction while fixing your axles, the gleam from a mixture of sweat and oil coating his pecs, dipping down his torso and towards his–

“You keep eye-fucking me like that, and I’m gonna make sure your vision isn't clear and curious for the rest of the night,” he remarks, eyes not wandering from where he’s working, catching you a little off-guard.

“Well, blame your lil worker, Uramume or whatever their name is,” you huff, fixing your shirt that doesnt need fixing, “we had a moment.”

“It’s Uraume woman,” he corrects you, “and that’s cuz you were poking at me, made me realise how bad you wanted it.” A chuckle escapes his lips, placing the wrench down and picking up a torque wrench.

“How badly I wanted it? Oh, don't make me laugh,” you scoff, “I saw the way you were eyeing me down in the car and before Uraume arrived, you wanted this cookie so bad, boy. You just mad your buddy cock blocked the tension.” you spin on the chair, secretly smirking evilly at your plan to recreate the tension.

“You’re starting again, woman. Don’t start something you know you can’t finish.” he wipes his brow, placing the torque wrench on the side table before heading your way for another tool. “Who says I know I can’t finish it. Have you met me? I always finish what I start. Without fail or complaint.” You look up at him, his enormous figure overshadowing your sitting figure as he reaches for the bucket behind you.

“Yeah, right, you can’t handle what you don’t know,” he glares down at you, not moving from his position.

“And you can't handle all of this, so…” 

“Is that a challenge?” his evil smirk returns, placing the bucket back on the table as his lower arms linger around your thighs.

“Only if you think you can handle it, Kuna.” Your eyes look doll-like from his point of view, a tent slowly growing in his construction pants, and all four of his blood red eyes stare obsessively down at you. That's all it took for Sukuna's lower arms to lift you onto his workbench, clearing away all his equipment as you sit there, legs barely able to capture his whole hip area. He leans in and kisses you, but it's not a soft one or one of desperation; it feels like someone who has something to prove. Like he needs to show you how badly he’s been secretly wanting this. You could feel his huge hands feel all over your body, his upper ones focused on your jawline down to your breasts, while the lower pair aim toward your legs and waist.  Feeling him knead your inner thighs and boobs made you moan into his mouth, only boosting his ego. “Oh, where’s that confidence you were flaunting before?” he moves his mouth to your jawline and down to your collarbone as he says this, the evident teasing in his words. You wanted to protest, but you feel his fingers slowly move against your soaked panties, having already pushed past whatever you wore for your bottoms. “C’mon~, show me what you’re capable of, baby.” That’s a new nickname, but you don't deep it since he’s now positioned himself between your legs, two arms spreading your thighs and the other pair holding you down by your waist.

“This thing. Off, now,” he demands, small hints of neediness planted in his authoritarian voice. In your mind, you just want to obey and hastily remove your lower garments, but you want Sukuna to earn the right to eat you out. So what do you do? You don't move; you look down at him with a smug face, disregarding how much in heat you are on the inside.

“Hmmm, nah,” you lean over and tilt his chin up, forcing him to look up at you, “you gotta earn this ‘Kuna, I don't give it out for free,”

A look of puzzledness paints Sukuna’s face at your words. Usually, he would get what he wanted, not work for it, especially for a woman he had low-key stalked from a distance for the past few weeks. A moment passes before that smirk comes back on his face, that one that gets you going.”Aren’t you a smart mouth?” He then arises from his kneeling position, now towering over your figure for the nth time as he crosses his lower pair of arms. “So, what do you want from me?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder for a bit, “Lemme see what I’m working with.” Your eyes peer down from his face to his large construction pants, then back up at him. Sukuna understands what you mean as he unbuckles his pants with one hand, watching them drop with his underwear to reveal two (yes, two) massive erections bounce up against his stomach. Your eyes widen a little at the discovery, but you keep your composure, showing him that you're not one to easily give in.

“You scared?” he teases.

“Please, this ain’t nothing,” you roll your eyes, knowing in your mind you’re doing backflips at what those monsters could do to you. You bring your hand up to the upper one, slowly moving your palm against the flesh, receiving a stifled grunt from him. When you look up to make sure you heard that right, he glared back down at you. “What are you looking at, woman?”

“Oh, nothing…just making sure my ears didn't deceive me,” a subtle chuckle escapes your lips before you continue stroking, your other hand moving to the lower one. Each hand now moving at its own pace, only to observe what kind of reactions Sukuna would give you, only to realise he seems to be holding back; stifled grunts and his four eyes occasionally fluttering, he seems to be enjoying it, but his pride won’t give in to the pleasure. Not fully satisfied with his reactions, you decide to lick both tips, tasting that gooey, salty precum against your taste buds. That seemed to create a catalyst, as his lower arms hover around your head, quietly begging for your mouth to take him all, both heads inside your wet, caved facehole. This piqued you, as you continued edging him with only your hands, seeing how much longer he could resist not giving in to forcing you to eat him up. A few more pumps and a more reddened expression later, you decide to take him in your mouth. You lap up the lower dick to sit right underneath the upper one and begin inserting him in your mouth, the size of the two of them overwhelming your lips. You decide to maon into them, sending vibrations through the members to allow Sukuna more pleasure.

“Finally,” he groans out, looking down at how well you managed to fit both of them into you, “and here i thought you were all talk,” you continue sliding him in and out, tilting your head to each side as your hands continue pumping what you couldnt fit, the palm of his hand resting at the back of your head to push you in further. “Cmon, I know you can take more of me. Don’t tell me –ngh– this is all you got?” The condescending teasing only amps you up, since you’re not going to let him be the one in control. You let him out of your mouth as you swat away his hand that was resting on the back of your head, breath still shaky from the lack of air that was coming in you before. “Oh, I can do this all night. How long can you handle it is the question.” A smirk plays on your lips as you stand up and turn him so he’s resting against the workbench, elbows perched on the counter as you feel up his thighs, the rigid muscles sending your mind into overdrive. “Let me finish what I’ve started, then you can have your playtime, Kuna.” You wouldn't even realise it, but Sukuna’s getting a kick out of this: someone else taking the rings instead of him leading the activity somehow turns him on even more. And to see it from you, the person he’s been having his doubts with from the moment your name was brought up in conversation a few weeks ago, oh, he could get used to this. 

Your index finger seductively slides up his dick from the testicles, feeling every vein and twitch from the flesh before swirling around the bells, Sukuna’s smirk not faltering as he looks down at you. You smirk back as you go back down onto him, engulfing both penises in your now hollowed out orifice, bobbing up and down as your hands feel around his pelvic area. His arms begin unconsciously moving towards your head, but you swat them away again, not letting him have any say in how you want him to cum. His thighs begin flexing as he gets closer to his climax, “ahh, yes. Just like that, keep going,” The praises get more vocal, feeling him twitch more in your mouth. At the final bob of your head, you feel two gushes of projectile cum splatter against your uvula as you see Sukuna’s head tilt back slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his neck as he continues to release in your mouth, to which you swallow it all. When you feel that the streams have calmed down, you slide your mouth off both of his dicks, licking your lips as you climb on top of the bench, now cradling his hips against your own. “Told you I could handle it, did you enjoy it?” Hints of arrogance and egotistical tendencies were laced in your words, just wanting to hear this big, beefy man who screams arrogant and prideful to say that you did a great job in taking him well. But Sukuna, being Sukuna, he just rolls his eyes, his big palms gluing themselves onto your waist without warning as he teases your bottoms off.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn,” and in the blink of an eye, your bottoms are ripped off, exposing your sacred core to this enormous being.

“Ahh, extra bushy, if only you let my tongue explore that jungle,” his eyes slightly dilate as his upper hands begin pumping his penises again, ready for another round, “oh well, that’ll be my dessert.”

“Wait Kuna! What’re you–”

“You didn't think you were gonna make me go with what you want forever, did you, woman?” he snarls, sitting up a bit more properly as he gazes down on you, “that was only a smidgen of what i’m capable of,” he keeps your eyes locked onto his as he slowly descends you onto him, his hands aligning his dicks to both your entrances. Upon penetration, your mouth gapes open at the stretch, sounds that you didn't want coming out, fighting their way out of your oesophagus as Sukuna snickers, seeing your prideful facade slowly crumble at his size. “Oh? I thought you could take me pretty well? Where’s that confidence gone now?” he leans in to nip at your earlobe, neck and jaw. His lower arms are moving your hips at his pace, each insertion and pull out being more slicker than the last as you feel your walls being filled up by him. You feel like you're in another universe at how good he feels in you, your hands move up his tatted pecks up to his shoulders for stabilisation as your face winces. “Cmon, I know you got better reactions than that. Don't hold back, show me all of you,” he lifts your chin up to face him, eyes barely able to open at his arrogant expression, enjoying how much you're being ruined and elated by him penetrating you. 

“Feels so-so—good, ahh,” you manage to speak, the sensation making your vocal capabilities narrowed down to moans and mewls.

“Feels good, who? Speak up, woman,” he leans closer, his four pupils fixated on your drunken expression.

“S-Sukuna! Feels so–good,” you manage to get out, hands moving to tangle in his pink hair follicles before pulling him into a messy kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth to show you still have some kind of moxy left in you. He groans slightly but doesnt falter, a chuckle gets swallowed up by you as his upper arms move to feel up around your torso, sliding up your waist and begin fondling your breasts, leaving you wanting more. 

Your hips continue to take him down below, every bounce leading you more to your climax as you latch off his lip and rest your forehead on his shoulder, “Oh k-kuna, i-i’m”

“Already, mamas? We just started,” he coos, “Don’t tell me you’re giving up now? You can hold on longer, can’t you? Show me what you got.”

That ‘mamas’ nickname snapped you back to your senses, holding off your climax to prove you can go as long as you want. His seeing you control your ejaculation made him speed up, now occasionally perking his hips up against yours to add some work in. “That’s it, keep going and maybe I could finish before you,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers through your already overstimulated body. You huff and puff, but you’re taking up his challenge, no matter how badly you want to cum on his members.

You two keep going, surprised at how long he’s holding on, almost as if he’s not going to let his body give in before you. Now, it came to a standoff of whose body will give in to pleasure and release first. Both of you were grunting and huffing, each stretch feeling more blissful than the last. Sukuna’s eyebrows knitted together, and you were near giving this man hickies against his pectorals and collarbone with how close your face was to his chest. In the end, without both of you realising, both of your bodies clenched simultaneously as you squirted onto him as he shot into you, essentially ending the race in a tie. Both of your eyes rolled back as your grip on his shoulders began clawing down onto his shoulders, a drop of sweat sliding down his jawline as he looked down at you and you looked up at him. No words were exchanged as he leaned in to give you a slow, sensual kiss on your lips, as if he were praising you for your efforts without saying it out loud. 

After releasing yourself from the kiss, you slowly ascend yourself off of his penises, feeling the emptiness from your pussy and your asshole as he pulls his pants back up. Upon attempting to stand, your legs were still shaky, causing you to falter, and one of his right arms came to capture you before your ass met the ground.

“Trust me, you won't be able to walk for a good while after this,” he says, standing up, you still attached to his huge arm, ”consider this payment for your car and a message that you’re not going anywhere else for your car, got that?”

You look up at him; though it felt like a threat, it sounded as though he didn't want you out of his reach, like he wanted you to stay with him, regardless if he included the car or not. 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout that, ‘Kuna, I ain't going nowhere,” you reply, making yourself comfortable in his hold as he suddenly lifts you up so that you’re seated on his shoulders. Except, you’re facing his back. “Whoa, what are you–”

“I said I wanted dessert, woman. I’mma get it,” he states, licking up your already puffy, filled-up folds that were seated right in front of his face. This sent shivers up your spine as a moan slips from your lips and your hand snaps onto his hair again. He snickers as he walks the two of you to your car, still unfinished from the repairs he was doing. He opens the car door to seat you on there as he continues working, your core still leaking from both of your juices mixing within you. You’re panting but also slightly confused at what he’s doing. You see him going to his toolbox and reaching for some tools before returning, his head stands between your legs.

“Gotta keep my motivation near me to finish this job,” he reaches for a bolt that needs tightening, tightens it, then comes up and presses his huge nose against your clit, his tongue seeking how you taste with his seed inside you. “Mmh, now I've got more energy to finish,” he grins, seeing your upper body lean back against the console at the pleasure you’re feeling.

At this rate, you’ll miss the party you worked so hard to get vip for. Oh well, right now you’d say this is the best part of the night.

Sorry Nobara and Maki, I’ll make it up to y'all one day…

a/n: hey guys.....sorry i havent been active, this degree's showing me flames rn😭😭but anyway, i've been writing this in my free time so its taken a while but this is the longest one shot ive done

also my jjk oneeshot debut woohooo😛😛😛😛 pls leave likes, reposts and comments if you enjoyed it🫧

[swift-works]

Down Bad

pairing: portgas d. ace x fem!reader summary: Thanks to a few of the nurses on board, you had learned of a new trend going around. The trend is seeing if your significant other would melt into your kiss and you had the perfect boyfriend to try it out on. wc: 1.2k tags: established relationship, fluff (like minor angst but i promise its minor), based on a tiktok trend, ace is so DOWN BAD lol, ACE GETS A KISS

"Meet me in our room after dinner, kay? It's really important." You had told him before squeezing his hand and heading over to sit with a few of the nurses.

The two of you sitting at separate tables during meal times wasn't totally out of the usual. Though the giggles that had broke out when you joined and the not so subtle glances in his direction was a bit odd. Ace shrugged it off as he got his own dinner and joined a table of his own. Your request floated around his mind as he tried to come up with what was so important. He knew better than to assume it was anything about your relationship. You guys have been going strong for a few months and he felt like he had nothing to worry about.

……

Or did he?

What if you had lost feelings for him? What if you were in love with someone else? What if you had decided that he was nothing more than the demon son of the late pirate king? His thoughts had began to spiral as he picked at his food for the rest of dinner. Anxiety had set in and he couldn't bring himself to finish eating, which had earned some confused looks from his table mates.

By the time he left the galley, you were no longer where he'd seen you last. The anxious feeling didn't dissipate as he neared your shared room, which he assumed you were already in. When he found himself in front of the closed door, he let out an exhale and pulled his shoulders back. Surely he was just overthinking and letting his negative thoughts get the best of him. He knew you wouldn't do something like that to him. He hoped.

Without much more thought, he entered the room.

Sure enough, there you were fiddling with something on the dresser. At the sound of the door opening, you spun around to face him with a smile. "There you are! I was beginning to think you fell asleep in your food again."

Ace chuckled as he shut the door behind him. "Now you know that I wouldn't keep a pretty girl waiting for too long. So what was so important?"

A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you rolled your eyes and crossed the room towards him. "It just so happens that I have an experiment that I want to try on you. You up for it, handsome?" You looked up at him with that twinkle in your eyes that he couldn't possibly say no to.

"Depends…what kind of experiment are we talking about? Like science or," You had reached out to grab his hands and he took that opportunity to pull you flush against him. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "physical~"

You gasped as your faint blush turned into a hot flush as you pushed away from him. "Ace! Get your mind out of the gutter.

When you pulled away enough to see his face, you were met with a wolfish grin. "I can't help it. My minds always in the gutter when you're around."

"Down boy." You pat his chest as he released you. "Anyways, I can't tell you about the experiment. You're just going to have to trust me and do what I tell you to do."

"Sounds easy enough, I trust you. You have me at your complete mercy." Ace winked.

You rolled your eyes again but the faint smirk on your face gave you away. "Alright, first order of business. I need you to close your eyes."

"Consider it done." He did as told and closed both of his eyes.

"Now, I'm gonna move you forward a few steps and I'll also be moving your arms. I'll need you to keep your arms in whatever position I put them in until I say otherwise. Sound okay?"

"Baby, you know I'll do whatever position you want." He teased and was met with a smack to the arm. You didn't verbally respond but he could feel your hands wrap around his wrists.

You guided him until he was in a spot you were satisfied with. Releasing his wrists, your hands trailed up his arms and lifted them both until they were spread apart. "Remember what I said, do not move those arms until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, ma'am."

Taking a step back, you eyed his stance and it took everything in you not to laugh. Turning your head to the dresser, you faced the hidden cam-snail. What was an experiment without evidence? You shot the snail a thumbs up before turning back towards your boyfriend.

This "experiment" was actually the product of a girl's night. Some trend was going around the nurses where they would see if their partners would melt into a kiss unprompted. It was a cute idea and you were excited to see what Ace would do.

You reached up and put both hands on either side of his face. Instantly, he leaned into your touch as your thumb stroked his cheek. He started to open his mouth, surely some flirtatious remark on the tip of his tongue. Before he could utter a word, you brought his face down to meet yours as you cut him off with a kiss.

It took him a moment to realize that you were kissing him. So it was a physical experiment. To think he was so worried over nothing, you just wanted an excuse to kiss him. Well, who would he be to deny you that? Instructions be damned, you deserved his full attention. Without further thought, his arms fell from their set position and his hands found your hips as he deepened the kiss.

You were not surprised at all. In fact, you would have been shocked if he actually listened to you. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck and you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. His grip on your hips tightened for just a second and then he relaxed his grip as one arm moved to wrap around your waist.

It didn't matter how many times the two of you kissed, he always managed to take your breath away and make your heart flutter.

The next few minutes were filled with wandering hands and burning cheeks. Only the need to breathe put a stop to Ace's attempts to devour your lips. When you regretfully pulled away from him, you couldn't help but smile at his attempt to follow your lips. "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere."

"Hmm I know, but I like kissing you." One of his hands lifted to rest on your cheek while bringing you in for another peck. "Your lips are like really addictive y'know. They're just so soft and they fit against mine so nicely." Every other word was met with another peck.

A giggle escaped you as you put a hand over his mouth. "Ace! Give me a second to breathe."

He shook his head as he smirked against your hand. While you were focused on his mouth, you didn't pay attention to the rest of him. Well not until you felt a squeeze to your ass. You let out a gasp and dropped your hand. "Okay, you had a second."

Any retort you had was cut off has he pulled you in for another kiss. And another one. And another. And as your back hit the bed, you faintly remembered that the cam-snail was still on.

a/n: bear with me, writing any form of physical intimacy is bit hard for me so this was more of a practice fic but i also thought this trend was cute when it was going around TikTok. remember, likes/comments/reblogs are super appreciated divider credits: @uzmacchiato song: Down Bad by Taylor Swift masterlist

[iamsoclone]

NOBLE ✦ heian!sukuna and his new arranged wife!reader...who barely looks at him, let alone fucks him... | NSFW. oral (f. rec). slight degredation. manhandling. a steamy onsen. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა (3.6k)

Life had been a series of decisions made by everyone but you.

Being raised under strict rule and watchful eye just to be sold off to the wealthiest, most respected man in the country wasn't something you fought exactly, you knew it was a battle you wouldn't win.

They could treat you like a prize sow, but that didn't mean you'd sit there getting fat and happy and filled with babies like one.

Especially not when you were being unloaded onto a warlord.

Sorry, not a warlord, the warlord.

Unrivaled and undefeated, Sukuna Ryomen wore blood and ash to your first meeting as casually as he did his kimono.

Draped, loose, open in the front like he didn't care who gawked at his chiseled chest or the thick black ink that wrapped his body and disappeared into the robe.

You kept your head low but your eyes on the bored, tattooed face of the man who didn't even seem to be listening to the details of your ceremony taking place the following week.

Sukuna got one look at your expression, your posture, your dress, and was about to write you off as yet another mindless, well trained insect who got off on following orders. You certainly looked the part.

But as the meeting finished and you rose to your feet, lowering to a deep and respectful bow, you muttered something at him.

"I do hope you plan to bathe before the ceremony, I can smell you from here."

When you straightened, your face gave absolutely nothing away. But there was venom and fire slithering behind the courteous tone.

When you walked off to follow your mother and father, you did not look back.

But you... you insulted him. Told him he stunk right to his face and shattered the image he'd built in his head in the moments you knelt across from him.

Maybe you weren't the polite, sweet, mindless doll your parents raised you to be.

Well, at least you wouldn't be boring.

...

Oh, how he had come to regret those words.

Sukuna didn't think much about how his life would change once he was married. He'd be expected to make an heir, but it wasn't like that would affect his life.

Ha.

Hard to make an heir when his wife refused to acknowledge his existence, god forbid sleep in the same bed.

Hard to make an heir when his balls were full and the only seed he spent was on pretty, fluff-for-brains concubines, or eventually, when he could hardly stand to even look at them, his own god damned hand.

Being married to you wasn't only not boring, it was hell.

He had to wonder which of the many heinous acts he'd committed thus far in his lifetime had landed him living punishment in the form of you.

Probably all of them.

But Sukuna wasn't only a sadist, but a masochist just the same.

Sure he glared and sneered and scoffed at your back as you walked out the moment he stepped in a room. Making a snide comment under your breath as you passed him just to set his teeth grinding away.

Sometimes he would bark a, "Know your place, woman." At your disappearing form, catching your shoulders shaking the slightest bit. Like you were fucking laughing.

It made his blood boil and hands itch to do something. To retaliate, to show you your place and put you in it.

You were supposed to be a wife. Subservient and devoted in every way to him and his wants, his needs.

That’s the thing, in every technical way, you were. You ran the household, ate meals with him when expected, attended ceremonies and political gatherings when it was called for. On the outside, you were absolutely perfect.

And in some backwards way, you really were perfect for him.

A match in fire and callousness, you didn't let it rage out of control like he could. You kept it in check and used your seething as an underhanded weapon.

One that really got you what you wanted, because now you had all the freedoms of a wealthy noblewoman, and you had Sukuna reluctantly wrapped around your pretty little finger.

You knew he was not the person to have worked up and left on the edge, but it’s not like you particularly gave a shit. It was amusing to see how his crimson eyes lingered as you passed in the hall, some staff member in tow as you listed off your preferences and plans for a gathering. The way his nostrils flared as he caught your scent. 

No, it slapped him across the face. Invaded his senses and had all four of his fists clenched.

He told himself you were just another woman. His wife, sure, but no different than any other concubine. But the way his hands itched to reach and grab you at the waist, rip your obi off and squeeze the soft curve instead, to pull you in and bury his face into the crook of your neck and breathe so deep he’d never get your scent out of his sinuses.

The way he ached to have you sat on his lap taking every inch of him, to fill you until your belly swelled with his babies. Fucked his heir into you.

He’d never had the urge to breed before, and it was really fucking annoying. It made him feel like a fucking animal, and he hated it. 

Sure he sated animalistic needs, eating, fucking, killing. But they didn’t control him. 

Sukuna could level civilizations singlehandedly, raze villages to the ground and upheave the world just to toss it on its head. He was a warlord—no, the fucking warlord, and his pretty little wife had him tearing his own hair out. 

God, he needed to relax. This wasn’t him. He didn’t let emotions run his life, and he certainly didn't let people run his life.

Meanwhile you and your life carried on just the same. Ate dinner and sipped fine tea imported from the mountainous regions to the east, strolled the gardens full of fresh blooms and the low buzzing hum of cicadas, stripped free of your yukata with the help of your attendants and left to soak in the hot spring watching the sun set on the land. 

On your land. 

You supposed being married to the brute wasn't so bad after all. 

Steam rolled off the water, lifted by the light breeze that rustled leaves and set chimes twinkling. 

It was peace. You were exactly where you wanted to be, and certainly enjoyed it, but you couldn't deny you craved something just a little more. Something exciting. 

“B-but sir! Please, wait!” The shrill, panicked voice of an attendant rang out just outside the door into the onsen and you whipped your head around just in time to see it slide open with a bang!

And behold, your husband. 

Taking up nearly the entire doorway with nothing but a towel barely hanging on around his hips. So short the black rings inked on each thigh were visible.

It left you speechless, to see so much of him so bare. That he’d be brazen enough to walk right in on you so indecent. But you dipped quickly, putting your body underwater up to your neck and covering your breasts. 

“What do you think you're doing in here?” You lifted your chin, dignity intact even as you hunched to maintain a shred of modesty.

Sukuna froze in the entrance, ruby eyes wide and stuck on you for a long moment until he finally broke and stepped into the room.

“Bathing. I believe it was you that requested me to, no?” He quirked a brow, bare feet slapping the stone as he walked toward the steps into the water. 

The same attendant hurried in behind him, coming to crouch next to you. “Ma'am, your towel? Would you like to—” 

“Leave us,” Sukuna dismissed her without a look, halted and about to get in. 

You took the towel and muttered that you were fine, that she could go. She bowed low to you both and then that was it. You were alone. 

Well, alone with your husband. 

Who at least had the decency to go against tradition and leave the scrap of towel on and covering where thick black lines dipped low on his abdomen. 

You studied each other for a moment. Your hands cupping your breasts and his crossed over his chest and planted on his hips. 

You broke the stare first, turning to look out at the open scene and he started down the steps. He sank into the water and you watched from your periphery as he eased back, running a damp hand through his dusty pink mess of hair and rested two muscled arms on the stone ledge.

It was the first time you'd ever been alone with him, and you refused to look at him or speak first. 

“I despise how they hover.” Sukuna's gruff voice cut through the silence and you did not look at him as you retorted.

“That is their duty. An attendant would not be properly fulfilling their role if they were not present when needed.” 

Sukuna barked a laugh, “Well, you'd know all about that now, wouldn't you?” 

Your head snapped to the side and you looked him right in the eye with brows furrowed. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don't act oblivious now.” He tch'd, casting his gaze out at the view instead of you. “Stupidity does not suit you.” 

You blinked. A few times. And despite the heat of the water, felt warmth race across your cheeks.

Was he really so callous?!

He caught your slight shock and smirked, “I assumed you'd be fleeing about now, is something the matter?” 

“I will not be bullied out of my evening soak.” You huffed.

“Bullied?” Sukuna scoffed, “You've had quite a soft upbringing if this constitutes bullying in your eyes.” He could see your face twist, fire flickering in your eyes as he prodded you and all he could think was finally. 

“You know nothing about me, so do not speak as if you do.” You almost sneered as you hissed it at him. Like he'd truly struck something.

And Sukuna was not one to back down when he struck a nerve.

“I know enough to know you're a sheltered, well mannered brat. If there is more than that, I have not seen it.” He said it like a challenge, like he was daring you to show him there was more.

He had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Sukuna was a brute, blood and dirt still under his dark fingernails from the havoc he likely wreaked just before coming to interrupt your evening.

So fast the water splashed the ledge, you snatched the towel and wrapped it around your body under the surface. It was flimsy and lewd, but better than your hands.

His eyes went wide, gripping the ledge as you rose to your feet. Waist deep in the water, the towel clung to your form and had him swallow visibly. 

“You seem to have certain expectations of me, does it upset you that I have not met them?” Your head cocked, taking a step forward.

Sukuna did not waver on the outside, simply sneered, “I am no stranger to disappointment.” 

Your eyes narrowed into a glare that threw daggers at him and god, he felt his heart skip a beat as you cut right back with, “Well, neither am I.”

The water rippled around you as you took step after step closer to him. “I never asked to be married off to the likes of you.” 

“That makes two of us.” He shot right back, rising to his feet as you drew close enough to look down at him, making you tilt your head back a bit to keep your eyes on his.

They betrayed you though and flickered to his chest, following the black lines that cut down his abdomen. Water dripping from his bare body, the tiny scrap of a towel heavy on his hips, soaked and clinging to his muscled thighs.

God, why did he have to look like that?

“Brute.”

Surely you'd be the death of him.

“Prude.” His brow lifted like a dare and you stepped right up to the challenge.

“Whore.” 

It surprised even you and as it left your lips you saw the shock hit Sukuna like a slap to the face. 

Too far?

“Why you little—” He snarled, grabbing you at the waist with one hand, nails pressing in enough to make you gasp as he brought his face close and held you in place. “You dare to speak to me like that?” 

“So all those women, you mean to tell me you keep them around for idle chatter? Please.” You scoffed and Sukuna lifted a brow, lips pulling into a slow smirk. 

“What’s this? Is the brat jealous?” 

You? Jealous? Pfft, ridiculous.

He wasn’t about to tell you that it had been weeks since he’d last even tried to be with another woman. That it disgusted him to even think of. That he couldn’t. 

But here you were, right here in his grasp, trembling a little but not pulling away. A crinkle to your nose like he just caught you red handed. And that certainly stirred something in him.

“You… your—” You stammered a little and his smirk split into a grin. Sharp and gleaming. He could feel your heart racing away under his grip. A clear of your throat and you refitted the blades in your gaze. “Clearly, your delusion knows no bounds.”

“You’d think it delusion that a woman would be jealous of another bringing pleasure to her man?” He hummed, grip softening on your waist slightly just to slide down to your hip. Your lips parted and he could see your thighs squeeze under the surface as he stepped closer. 

“Or maybe you like the thought.” He mused, so close you could feel the heat of his body and his breath on your skin as he laughed once, low and gruff. “Maybe you touch yourself at the thought of another woman bouncing on my cocks, screaming my name in ecstasy."

Wait… what?!

You had to have heard that wrong. Sure the brute had four arms but that would just be…

It took a moment to gather your thoughts and hiss a meek little, “Never.”

“Do you ever touch yourself?” He hummed again, dipping underwater to trace the edge of your towel, grazing bare skin and making you swallow. “Or are you too prudish for even that?” 

You could just shove him away and storm off. In fact, why weren’t you doing exactly that?

Heart racing, you could feel your pulse between your legs, squeezed together as your belly tightened. His eyes bored into you like he knew exactly what was happening. How traitorous your body had become. 

Lips parted and wavering, you hesitated to answer.

Sukuna Ryomen could always sense blood in the water, and he knew it was time to strike. 

He moved, his face coming down so close to yours, but still out of reach. Thick fingers dragging over the bare skin of your thigh, he pressed up between your legs and sent a jolt of lightning ripping up your spine. You yelped and gripped his arm with both hands, but he didn't move. Just held pressure and studied how your face twisted and flushed.

“Tell me to stop,” He said, voice hoarse and quiet. 

“S-s—ah! S… S-kuna,” You whimpered his name, clinging to his tattooed forearm. God he could feel you throbbing against his fingers and his cocks—already stiff, twitched. Ready to spear you on both and fill you with him until you sobbed. 

“Yes, brat?” 

You squirmed, eyes squeezing shut. What the hell was happening to you? “I… I can’t—”

“Look at the prude, coming undone and I haven't even done anything. Do you want more?” He rubbed a slow, tiny circle on your clit and your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Mmph—god,” You gasped, using his arm to support yourself. 

“Use your words, brat. Ask me nicely, and I’ll make you see stars.”

The way he spoke to you, shit… you must have been out of your fucking mind. Or so horny you could barely stand. Either way, you pried your eyes open and met his. 

“Please,” You whined, so filled with pressure you could hardly stand it and the word almost had him on his knees. 

“Please what?” He held firm even as you glared weak little daggers at him, that fire burning behind your pretty, glazed eyes. 

“Please,” You couldn’t believe the position you’d landed yourself in. You couldn’t believe just how good it felt… “Make me see stars.”

Restraint snapped with a low groan and his hands were on you. It was a blur and you could hardly keep track of how surrounded you felt. One slipping up into your hair, two squeezing down your sides and pulling at the towel—barely hanging on and about to give—

Ah, yep, there it goes. 

Hit the water with a wet plap and you were left fully exposed. 

His finger found your slick entrance and he pushed inside. Barely even half of it but your eyes went wide with how thick it was and you squeaked nonetheless, starting to protest but Sukuna shut you up.

He hefted you up like you were nothing, slotting your thighs around his hips and his own covering let go just the same as yours. 

God how he was dying to use you, feel you squeeze around him like you did his finger. But you weren’t quite ready for that yet.

So he pulled your hair, tilting your head back as he brought his mouth down on yours, lips pressing yours open and delving in with his tongue.

The sound you made into his mouth, tongue tangled with his as you gave in and let your hand thread up into his hair, nails dug into his bicep, it was lewd and perfect and exactly what he craved. 

“You're still a—ah—brute,” You panted between kisses, gasping as he squeezed your ass and spread your cheeks, grinding your bare pussy on his abdomen.

“You're leaking on me,” Sukuna growled, tugging harder at your hair. “Maybe you like that fact.” 

Before you could protest, something wet squished against your pussy. You jerked with a gasp and started to squirm, but Sukuna had you trapped in his grasp and wasn't exactly keen on letting you go. 

“Ah, you asked for this. Stars, remember?” 

“Wha-what is that?” Your voice pitched as he held you against the thing flicking up on your twitching clit.

It felt amazing, electricity shooting through your limbs with every movement, but it was foreign. Big but softer, unlike how his hand had been.

“You like it, don’t you? Like riding on my tongue?” He nipped at your lip like it was obvious. 

His tongue?

Your nose crinkled, “What are you—oh my—mmph!” His tongue thrust into your mouth again as his… uh… other tongue prodded at your hole. 

Sukuna groaned into your mouth, tasting you—all of you. Legs pinned wide open for the wet muscle to work its way inside. Slick hitting the tastebuds making his eyes roll.

God you tasted fucking good. One taste and he was surely addicted, just like he was to your scent.

The feeling of it squirming and exploring deeper, licking up into your gummy walls as sharp teeth grazed your clit, it had you keening and bucking in his arms. The stretch was unreal, and had you struggling to breathe.

“Fuck…” He rasped, pulling back to watch as you writhed, brows knit and bitten lips pushed out in a sweet little pout. You looked perfect, you felt perfect, walls pulsing around the length squelching in and out. 

He was fucking you with it, and you were on the verge, ready to explode from a white hot pressure filling your belly. Shit… this had to be a sin of some kind.

Sukuna tugged your hair, leaning you back and supporting your weight to give you both a full view of how he stretched you out. “Look at that. Poor little pussy can barely handle the whole thing.” He thrust that tongue in deep and curled and you cried out. 

“Oh god! I-I can't—” 

“Do it,” He commanded and whatever was holding the dam back, broke. Head thrown back, your chest heaved with a strangled noise erupting as you spasmed, nails raking down his arms. 

As slick leaked into his maw, trembling in Sukuna’s grip as he groaned with the feeling, the taste of you coming undone, your fuzzy mind went…

Stars… 

As you rode the last waves, he pulled out of your twitching pussy, giving your clit a flick and humming a laugh when you jolted. 

“Well, where did all that attitude go? Speechless already, brat?” He mocked, watching your lashes flutter and eyes struggle to focus into a glare. On fire with a flush that raced across your cheeks and chest. 

“Pu-put me down you fiend.” You huffed and pushed weakly at his chest and Sukuna barked a laugh. Grinning wicked and feral with gleaming canines and your tummy clenched all over again.

“No-no, I’m not done with you.” Your knees hit the hard stone as Sukuna sat back on the ledge, thighs spread over his, letting your weight drop into his lap and right onto his cocks, pushing your hips back to grind you against the thick lengths. The feeling had you choke on air and despite thinking he would destroy you if he stuck one in, god forbid both, your cunt throbbed and you were painfully aware of how empty you felt. 

“Not even close, wife.”

this is for u @interlude-enternude <3 it was supposed to just be a drabble but i love us torturing suki too much :3 m. list | divider by @/kthice <3

[sola-nater]

who lives to please 𑣲⋆｡˚ | s. todoroki

love for my baby adult shoto’s design bc I saw it and got wet and it made me sad that ppl were hating on it :( ❤️‍🩹

w/c: 1.1k

divider cred: @cursed-carmine

Shoto, who lives to please you, who relishes in the way you drag your folds over his face, how you whimper and moan at the way his nose nudges at your clit, the yelp you let out when he slides his tongue into your sopping wet cunt, fucking you with the muscle as his warm hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you open for him. 

“Mmmffgh…’tastes sogood..” “‘Could live down here, you know that, baby?”

“Aaghh..! Fuck..Sho!” You cry softly.

He lets out a muffled chuckle, his hot breath fanning over your wet core.

Shoto would rather you cum ten times before he does once. There was something about watching you that did it for him, the way you shivered and twitched, how your eyes rolled back for him and your mouth fell open, wimpy moans falling from your lips like the dreamy singing of a choir. 

Sometimes, pleasing you was enough to make him cum. Especially during your time in school, how quickly Shoto would cum, a small wet splotch visible on his pants after you’d make out in his dorm, how he’d grunt at the brush of your ass against his crotch at events, where he’d blush furiously at the way you’d turn around, pointing a finger up at his face and faux-scolding him for getting hard.

“Sh-Sho…I’m..hah!” You toss your head back as he sucks on your folds, tongue flicking up and down between the seam of your lips. “Mhmm…” he hums into you, content and blissed out. He moans at the feeling of your hands in his hair, fingers tugging at his red and white strands while you continue to soak his chin with your juices.

It’s not long before he feels your pussy fluttering, how your short gasps have grown, how you’ve started to hump his face, using him to push 

yourself off that last edge to pleasure. 

“Ggnnghh..! Hah..!” “Sho—m’cumming!” You cry out finally, fingers pulling at his multi-colored strands, wet with sweat marking his determination to get you off. It doesn’t get much clearer than with how he works his mouth. His tongue flattens, lapping up your release with a smile you can feel between your legs. His large hands soothe your thighs while he groans at his final tastes of you.

“Mmmm…so sweet..” he hums.

Moments later you’re on your back, Shoto’s petting your hair, pressing gentle kisses over your face as you fall from your high. The pillows feel so soft you think you could sink into them forever, and everything smells like him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He mutters.

And just when you think it’s over he’s mumbling into the skin of your pelvis, lips brushing over your hips in a way that tickles.

“I want to finger you.” “Is that okay?”

He asks so bluntly, in a way that’s so characteristically him, soft and straightforward, a man who was taught to speak when he wanted something. After all, closed mouths don’t get fed. You can’t help but get a little lovestruck at the sight of him peering up at you, the gentle, kind eyes of the man you call yours, asking so politely if he can finger you. It almost makes you laugh.

Instead, you nod. You reach down, palm cupping his cheek, stroking the rosy tint flushed all over his face. Shoto’s hand lifts, it finds your hip, then the underside of your thigh, then finally his thumb presses down on your puffy clit, rubbing little circles that make you whimper. 

He notices it all. The way your back lifts ever so slightly off the bed, the little trembles of your thighs, how you huff out wimpy pants.

“In a bit, sweetheart.” He offers, playing with your sex. A slender finger traces down your slit before he spreads apart your lips, watching the sticky slick coat his digits. Your face heats up at the sight.

“Sho’…what’re you doing..?” He looks up at you, chuckling. “Just…lookin’” His finger drags along your core again. “Are you shy?” 

You barely have a moment to respond before his middle finger glides into you. “Aghh..! Fuck!” He curls it, dragging it against your wet walls as his thumb keeps up on your clit. He bites his lip at the sight of you.

“Yeah…yeah..” he whispers under his breath, adding another finger. “You’re so warm…” he mutters, suddenly activating his quirk, the digits of his right hand chilling inside of you as he switches to use his warm left thumb to flick over your little bud.

The feeling is overwhelming, every thrust of his fingers is a new wave of pleasure, a shock to your core as if he was fucking you with an ice cube, it emphasizes every move against your g-spot so much more, it keeps you present while the firm, warm, and constant buzz of pleasure from his thumb makes your mind all hazy. “You like this.” He points out, humming.

“Mhm…! Y-yeah…ohh..Sho’..”

“I should use my quirk more often,” Shoto mumbles, starting to think out loud. “Do you like the hot, or cold more?” He asks like you can respond normally, fingers still fucking you, thumb still fluttering over your clit incessantly, never letting up.

“Mmmphh..both! Both! I want both..!”

He grins, an idea forming in his head.

“Maybe next time we’ll make an ice mold of my dick, and I’ll keep you all warm from behind as I fuck you with it, hm?” He coos, leaning down just enough so his breath ghosts over your core, fingers speeding up at the way you clench around them in response to him. “‘Would you want to do that? Would you, baby?” He keeps asking, watching as you fare closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Tell me…” he flicks your clit.

“Aghh…! Shit…yes! Yes I want to..mmffghh…M’gonna cum—Shoto!”

Shoto’s eyes fill with awe as you cum, back raising off the bed and eyes rolling back. You look so goddamn pretty. His girl, cumming on his fingers. He takes his time in letting you ride out your orgasm, slender fingers moving in and out in slow pumps until you're whimpering over how it’s too much before he finally pulls them out.

They’re wet, soaked in your release as his chin was before, and just like before, Shoto cleans up, licking them clean before coming up to kiss you, the tang of yourself catching onto your tongue.

“Thank you, love.” He mutters against your lips.

You laugh. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“You don’t have to. I’d do it anyway.” 

And like the big hunk he is, Shoto Todoroki curls up beside you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, peppering the skin there with little nips and kisses, immediately getting to work on massaging your sore thighs.

[saterise]

Selfie! 🎩 👒 🔥

[acestattoo]

Jujutsu kaisen

Ryomen Sukuna:

Pump it up (TF! Sukuna x black!reader)

More coming soon...

[acestattoo]

Pump It Up

pairing: mechanic!True form Sukuna x streetracer! black reader Synopsis: your last mechanic bailed out on you, so your best friend mentions his older brother, and you go give him a try, not realising what a piece of work he actually is (not just in the garage…) (This is set in the late 90s/early 2000s) Cw: illegal street racing, misogynistic mentions, p in v, porn with plot, creampie, Sukuna has two dihs and four arms, riding, eating out (f & m receiving), Sukuna is his own warning, N*oya is his own warning, no use of y/n for reader wc: 8.1k also posted on my ao3 here

Life in the fast lane, that's how you always lived it. And every time, you'd come out on top, that’s just the tip of your skills. As you swerve the final corner before speeding down the straight, you ignite your Nitrogen boost and zoom! You clear the rest of the pack by a ten-second gap. Upon finishing, you swivel your car and hit hard on the brakes, leaving a smoke trail behind you as you bump up the bass in your car, seating yourself on the car window frame as you raise your hand in victory. The crowds all run up toward you, many cheers and screams as the reigning champion, you, hold your flawless victory streak tonight. The other cars follow up only a little after, slowing down behind the crowd.

“Fuck! I was so close!” Gojo slams his door as he steps out his car, Getou following up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “face it, Satoru; this the only time you can't use your ‘sole exception’ motto bullshit,” he chuckles, Gojo knowing danm well at the back of his best friend’s mind, he's cursing the fuck out of you.

In the midst of your victory celebration, the ringing sound of the police starts surrounding the area, an immediate sign for you to hop back in your car and dip. And that you did, revving up your engine before pulling off with ease and haste before they could even see your car. When you reach quieter streets, you hear that your brake pedal starts squeaking like crazy, along with your front right tyre having a bumpy feel, which is a possible issue with your brake fluids and a puncture. “Fuck, not again,” you groan as you take out your flip-phone and dial up your bestie.

“PAPER NEVER DOWN?!” the voice on the other side screams.

“CUZ THE VIBE IS ALWAYS UP!!” you reply, a huge smile plastered on your face as you cruise through the night, “Wassup Yuji?” “Ah, you know, just playin' video games with Todo,” he replies, the sound of him collapsing on the couch evident in the breath he exhaled, “what’s up?”

“We got a 217 buddy,”

“Again?! Dude, you gotta be more careful with your car, repairs don't come cheap,” Yuji sighs and reminds you, “can you go by yourself this time, this game is super tight, and I’m so close to TKO-ing Todo right now– BUTTON SMASHING TIME– I’ll catch ya,”

“No, wait, Yuji hollon–” and he hung up in an instant. “Great, just great.” The only reason you let Yuji take your car to repairs is that the mechanic you found has some weird hatred toward female drivers, be it regular or a street racer, so when guys swing by, they get their repairs done at lower prices. You sigh and start heading there, already predicting the outcome.

After the final turn, ahead of you, you see the huge traditional Japanese-style banner that says “Zenin Mechanics Inc.” You take in one more breath as you slowly enter the garage, welcomed with many machines buzzing and an ungodly amount of men at work. You park your car in the parking lot and walk up to the reception table. “Hey, um, I’m looking for Naoya Zenin?” you ask politely, putting up a facade because you really don't fuck with the vibe they got going here. You glance down at her nametag, “Wife of Ogi”, before looking back up to her monotonous face. She looks at you, from the top down, then starts typing on her computer  before tapping a button on her telecom,

“Noaya Zenin to the reception table, please.”

You thank her silently and wait patiently, many stares bore into your figure as the weird smell of misogyny gets stronger. A tall, green-haired man stunts closer to the reception, head held up so high you’d think there was an invisible stick pushing it up.

“That’s Vice-President Naoya Zenin to you, old hag,” he spat at the old lady, her expression not changing as she quietly apologised and bowed her head. “This young…lady is here to speak with you,” she gestures her hand to you as you bow slightly at the arrogant man.

“Hi, Mr Ze- i mean ‘Vice President Zenin’,” you start, already hating the taste of how that sounded in your mouth, “I’m here in place for Yuji Itadori. See, his car has some problems with the brakes and the tyres, I think it might be the–”

“I’mma stop you right there blackie,” he lifts his hand to stop you from talking. Blackie?! Who does this motherfucker think he is?!”

“Blackie–” you quietly repeat at the sheer audacity he had,

“Females, especially of your…species, should not blabber more than 5 words at me. And if it involves cars, not a peep should come out of you,” he says with a smug grin on his face. Oh, how you wanted to punch the living shit out of him at that moment, but you kept your composure, taking a deep breath. “Sir, I just need you to fix my– I mean, his car,” you say bluntly, trying your hardest to suppress your anger.

“Tch, why would a high-end man like me help a lowly, blabber-mouthed, car-enthusiast wannabe female like you? a black female at that,” his face contorted to that of disgust as he turned around and walked away, “what a waste of breath, tell your Jiyu friend or whatever the fuck his name was, to go look for another mechanic if he’s gonna send females of colour to this prestigious establishment.” he waves off as he disappears in the crowd of mechanics. You start charging him, but slow down when you remember you could serve jail time since these guys are part of the top 5% taxpayers of the country, so you drop it and head to Yuji’s place.

Upon reaching the shared modern-style one-story house, you park your car next to Choso’s blood red skyline. You jump out of your car, barge into the house (since you're a regular there) and hop onto the couch, the buoyancy of the couch offsetting Yuji and Todo as you groan and look up to the ceiling fan. 

“I assume things went shit,” Yuji commented, his eyes glued to his game. “I told you that you should go, I just lost my mechanic, dude,” you whine, reaching for some popcorn on the table. 

“Hey lil sis,” Choso casually calls out, walking past the kitchen with his earphones connected to his mixtape clipped on his waist.

“Yo cho-bro,” you call back, your head still facing the ceiling.

“Well damn. FUCK!” Yuji exclaims as Todo snags another win from their Mortal Kombat fight, making him toss his controller to the coffee table with a notable thud. “Brother, it don't matter how many times you lose; juss know you mad strong challenging me, you catch my drift?” Todo comforts him as Yuji stands for a stretch. “Man, whatever,” he brushes off, then remembers your complaints earlier, “Why don’t you hit up my brother for a fix-up?”

“Broski,” you look at him like he thinks you’re dumb, “Choso can’t even fix dinner, I’m not sure his ass can fix my whip.”

“Nah, not Choso, my other older brother,” he raises his arms before falling back onto the couch, nearly making it flip back with Todo.

“Other brother? You never told me about him?” Adjusting your seating on the other couch, you raise your back and rest your chin on your propped-up arms on your knees.

“That’s cuz my old man doesnt consider him family. Told me to never regard him as my brother cuz of some shit he got into throughout his life. ‘Parently, he has been to jail more times in 10 years than the amount of achievements he can actually be proud of, you ain't heard that from me though,” he whispers that last part, making you eye-roll at your best friend. “Otherwise, I’d argue he's the best in the block; so long as you're on his good side, which is already a challenge in itself.”

“So I’m just hearing that this nigga’s bad news ‘ji,” you cross your arms and lean back on the couch.

“Since when did bad news ever stop you, girl?” Some sass is thrown in that question, as if he’s challenging you to test out his brother’s mechanical skills. 

“Okay, hotshot, since you rate him so high, where’s he placed?” You stand up, crossing your arms and facing Yuji’s smug face head-on.

“Oh, that’s the fun part: you don’t find him, he finds you. And trust me when I say: once he’s got his eyes on you, it’s only a matter of time before he pounces.” his snaggle fang peeks out of his flashy grin, growing a smug smile on your face as well. “You don’t say? Bet, I’ll get his attention. One way or another.” bringing up your arm to link with Yuji’s as you head out their crib; determined to get yourself a new mechanic: Yuji’s older, notorious brother.

“Ah, wait! Who’s gonna fix my car in the meantime?!”

“I know a guy! I’ll call him up!” Todo shouted before you closed the door, reopening it to stay in the house while Todo’s friend makes his way over.

 A few weeks have passed since your little challenge with Yuji; with every race another win on your belt, the only thing is you can't find this mystery older brother at the races. Which is odd since Yuji said he just goes to see who’s the toughest, most badass driver in the lot. Making your way to the cluster of cars and people, you keep your eyes alert for him, the only thing you remember about Yuji telling you was that he had short pink-red hair and a shit ton of piercings. Which you’d think would help, if not for the variety of hair colours people have rocked up with tonight. Breathing out a sigh, you park your car next to a red and white Subaru Impreza. Jumping out, you sit yourself by your boot, the loud music from other cars blasting through the night, when a smaller figure pops up from beside you, their monotonous voice cutting through the noisy music.

“The boss has been watching”

“Jesus!” you jolt, the figure catching you off guard, “you scared the shit outta me. Wait, what’d you say?”

“He’ll be expecting five more wins from you before he introduces himself to you. I’ll be taking my leave,” and with that, the figure, who adorned a white bob with red highlights, slightly bowed before entering their car and drove off into the night, only leaving you confused. Until you realised that could be one of Yuji’s older brother’s workers. The thought exhilarated you, seeing as you only needed to win 5 more races before you secured a mechanic (hopefully). On your cruise back to your place, you feel a presence staring into your being and soul, like they’re waiting ever so patiently to pounce on their newly found prey. Shivers shudder down your spine as you slow down and take a quick view out and around the area, hoping it’s just some cop who was put on nightwatch. Nevertheless, you couldn't detect where this ominous presence was hiding, so you disregarded it, speeding up a little for extra precaution.

“That car is on the edge of fallin’ apart, it’s a goner by her fourth race,” a villainous, deep voice rumbles in the night, a puff of smoke filling the air.

“Trust me, she’s got this in the bag!” another voice pipes up, “now can you please get me down from here?! I was having the best dream eve-”

“Shut up, you twat,” the voice snaps, edging the other person closer to the edge of the rooftop, “unless you wanna see the tenth reason why I went to jail”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks pass, and you’ve now won four more races, only needing one more to catch Yuji’s older brother’s attention for good. You can’t even lie, there was something nerve-racking about the situation you were in; it wasn’t even from the fact that you were lined up with the best in the block, you knew you would win with ease. The problem was that you wouldn't know if your car would hold up. With every passing race, you became more reckless with each attack and gap you widened, pulled, and squeezed through, the squeaking between the axles grew increasingly louder, your car occasionally stalled at every start, and you’re running short on NO gas for your pull-offs. While chilling with your girls by the river, your mind drifts to tonight’s race, keeping in mind all that's wrong with your car.

“Hey,”

“Heyyy,”

“HEY FOCUS!!” Nobara snaps in front of you, retrieving you from your trance and train of thought. “So, you down for a girl’s night out this Tuesday? Drinks on Maki!!” she brings our evergreen-haired friend into a shaking embrace, the latter escaping Nobara’s grip and fixing her glasses. “Mightve stolen a couple thousand from my cousin’s workshop, no biggie. Fuck ‘em anyway,” a smug grin paints her face, and she looks at the two of you.

“Girl, you know I’m always down, but Tuesday?” You slightly cringe at the date, “What happened to party on the weekends?”

“That’s the best part!” Nobara grabs your shoulders, a slight jolt passes through you, “word on the street saying Hakari’s throwing the party of the year cuz of some racing shit going on this weekend!! He placed a mega bet on all the racers and is getting hella bank, regardless of who’s winning,” she shrieks in excitement, “Hakari NEVER throws parties, ‘less it's the real deal, and you know we’re going. No excuses,” you just compliantly nod, knowing that you can't turn it down. “I also heard that he’s inviting the winner up to his vip circle, so everything they get with their plus ones is on the house. Ooooo, how I wish to know someone who could race,” she dramatically leans against the railings, Maki rolling her eyes and a snicker leaving your lips. Winner gets vip access, huh?? 

Now, looking at the situation, this could be your make-or-break. If you win the race happening tonight, not only do you get your new mechanic, you also get vip section to the party of the year with your friends. The other thing, though, if you lose this race: no mechanic, and we gotta let Maki pay for our drinks and shit. The loving friend that you are, you despise the idea of your homegirls paying for things on your behalf, so you had to, no, MUST win the race tonight, even if you had to drag that car shell with your bare hands over the finish line.

It's about two hours before the race starts, you’re observing the vehicle before you: a semi-cracked left bulb, scratches along the side that seem beyond buffable, tyre trek beginning to smooth out and an exhaust pipe hanging on by a thread at the back. Just seeing the external damage made you cringe at the idea of what’s fighting for its life internally, which you didn't want to imagine. Sighing out, you walk up to your baby and slide your hand across it, the glisten of the nonnet under the garage light bringing empathy to your heart, leaning down to gently pat the car. “One more race, girl, I promise I’ll get you fixed up. We got this,” and with that, you place a small peck just above the body quarter of the shell before entering it to head to the final race turf: Shibuya.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd expected it to be full after the whole Hakari rumour, but Jesus, full is an understatement. You’d think that Michael Jackson was performing here with how the turnout was. Barely squeezing your car through the crowds, you manage to find a spot near your favourite arrogant driver’s white Ferrari Testossora. “Well, if it isn't my favourite melanin queen of the streets?” he coos as you get out the car, blaring your music, trying to counter all the other sounds going around.

“Oh, zip it, Satoru, you ain't getting to me, and we both know it,” you roll your eyes before dapping him up. “Eh, worth the try, boo,” bringing down his glasses to show off his mesmerising blue eyes in a wink. “You heard about the bets placed on us?” leaning against his car, you huff out a breath, “Yeah, talking ‘bout some winner gets vip access to the biggest party in Japan. I’m winnin it, regardless of the reward” fidgeting with the rings on your fingers and looking at your car, knowing deep down you were’nt too certain if you were even certain you’d win, but you werent gonna let your doubt cloud your judgement. Satoru could see your slight doubt under your overly-confident persona, but decides not to say anything, for once being the bigger person.

The crowds began to clear paths across the streets, indicating that the race was going to start. Entering your car, you take a deep breath, slowly caressing your wheel for reassurance to both yourself and the car. Starting the engine, you follow the other cars towards the start line, which was at one of the crossroads in the middle of Shibuya. A woman started seductively walking to the middle of the line, a red bandana gripped tightly in her left hand, raised up to the heavens. You bring your consciousness within to calm yourself and begin whispering your mantra.

You got this...

“Three!...”

Who’s the baddest bitch in the streets…

“Two!...”

You the baddest bitch in these streets!!

“One!...”

Let's win this!!

And the moment she swooped her arm down, you and the other racers pulled off. Well, at least, they pulled off. Your car stalled…again.

“Fuck! Not now, baby!” you panic, eventually getting her to restart, and you begin your chase to catch up to the other cars. You manage to catch up to the lackey along the straight and just before the turn, they try to do a late braking technique to cut you off; you, of course, knew of that trick all too well. Just as they essentially both brake check you and cut you off, you swerve on their outside, drifting your car along the edge of the pedestrian pathway and manage to get the upper hand on them. One down, five to go. Gaining on the next three racers, seeing their blue, orange and yellow undercar lights, you notice their bickering with how each of them either brake checks the other or the way they threaten each other’s lives by forcing them into near collisions. You decide to hold back until another corner comes along to see how each would attack it. The blue-lighted car swerved wide, causing the other two to enter the gap, but they weren't quick enough; by the time blue had to align themselves, they collided into the other two, causing an accident on the right side of the track. “ ‘least I didn’t needa do anything,” you giggle as you swiftly breeze past them, now with Satoru, Suguru and that Impreza from the other day. 

The final two corners are coming up, the crowd is going insane as you close the distance between the other three cars. First corner comes, all four of you drift across it with ease, no collisions or bump-ins, making all four of you in line with each other. The last corner comes along, Satoru does a late brake to gain more traction on the takeoff, and the rest of you tackle it as any other corner. Satrou has the lead while you, Suguru and the Impreza are line-in-line; the finish line within sight. You breathe in as you gaze down to your nitro boost, saying some internal prayers before flicking up the lid to the button. Once again, within these last few seconds before the winner is announced, you feel that terrifying, mysterious gaze upon you; shivers are sent down your spine aside from the car’s vibrations. Time it right…

Satoru has increased the gap.

Time it right…

Only a couple hundred metres before the winner is decided.

Almost there

It looks like Satoru might take the wi-

Wait a minute!!

The monstrous gaze that you felt seemed to shift the moment you pressed the nitro button in your car, boosting you ahead of the other two cars, a literal photo finish against you and Satoru. As you gain more control over your car, the crowd erupts in excitement and curiosity about who won the race. After a few more minutes of waiting, you notice dark pink hair and a monstrous figure make its way out of the crowd and into the darkness. You suspect who it might be, but your thoughts get interrupted by the sudden mob surrounding your car. Out of instinct, you hoot to make them back up a little, then it clicked that you won the race. “I…won? I WON?! I FUCKING WON LETS GO!!” squealing in joy, you jump onto the window frame of your car to bask in the glory of the victory you and your baby were able to attain. You see Satoru internally cursing himself behind the facade of him congratulating you, making the feeling of winning feel even more satisfying. 

Your phone begins to ring in your cupholder. Seeing that it’s Yuji, you get back in your car to go get ready for Hakari’s post-race party.

“Yo Jiji!! I won!!” screaming in your car in excitement as you continue speeding back to your place. “I heard from my brother!!”

Your heart skips a little, “your…brother?? The mechanic one?!”

“Yeah, he mentioned something about meeting with you at the party or something, I don't know,” You hear Yuji opening a packet of chips as he continues, “I can't remember cuz he was bullying me while he called me”

“Shame, man, okay, I’ll see you at the party!” finishing the call with a squeal as you place your phone down and head back to your apartment. Parking your car by the pavement, you make your way to your apartment door when you see a figure. Not any regular figure, though; this one was MASSIVE. Standing about 7 feet high, super muscular like a rugby player, short spiky pink hair flaring in every direction,  and….another pair of arms? Out of fear, you slowly back into your car until you hear the figure speak.

“You my lil punk of a brother’s friend that needs their car fixed?”

The rumble of his voice sent so many shivers through you, you’d swear a tremor happened right underneath you.

“S-sorry?”

“Yuji Itadori. Is that yo lil best friend or not?” The way he speaks, he doesnt seem like the kind to enjoy repeating himself.

“Y-yeah, and? Are you his big brother mechanic he told me about?” You stow away your fear to avoid getting killed or something (at least, what you assume might happen if you back away).

With that, the figure grunted and walked out of the shadows of your apartment’s entrance, revealing what the silhouette was hiding. Seeing him properly, not only was he massive and multi-limbed; he was adorned with black tattoos surrounding his arms and face, eyebrows, lips, nose and ears pierced, and fierce ruby eyes stared down into you, as if to rip into your very being. Not to mention, he was fine, like could’ve been featured on Boon or asayan magazines. You swear you could somehow feel a pool in your panties at the mere intimidation of him before he pushed past you and analysed your car.

“Can I at least get a name, mr -pushes-past-girls-to-look-at-cars?” turning to face him at the audacity of forcing his way to your car. The figure leans down to continue eyeing your car, “Ryomen Sukuna, Sukuna to you, woman.”

“Okay, Sukuna. You think you can fix it?”

Without saying anything, he gestures for you to give him your keys. After a few more moments of not doing anything, he straightens before looking down at you, his figure encapsulating you behind nothing. “Do you want the damn car fixed or nah?”

“Why should I give my car to you? Can’t I just take it to your garage or somethin’?”

He groans and pinches his node bridge, his canines glistened with decorations of teeth jewels and the bling of his snake bites in the street lamps. “Don’t you have a party to go to or something, woman?”

“Oh, I do,“ an attitude growing in you, just to see what his character is like, “I could always just take my car to your place tomorrow.”

“Do that, and I’d turn you away immediately. Don't test me,” he glares into your eyes. Seeing that you won't budge, he picks you up and drops you into your car, seating himself in the passenger seat. “Drive.”

“What?”

“Drive, woman. I’m fixing it now, whether you like it or not.” The threat was meant to scare you, but you just agreed because you knew if you jumped out, he was gonna use his beefy arms to drop you back into your car (and he highkey could kill you at this very moment if you wasted any more of his time). So with that, you started your car and allowed him to lead the way to his garage.

The drive was quiet: the faint sound of your playlist playing through the speakers, the cool breeze of the Tokyo night intertwining with yours and Sukuna’s hair. Your eyes occasionally diverted to his body; those arms that throw a whole car at will, those thick thighs that could suffocate you if you stared at him the wrong way, the black ink snaking around his wrists like the newest Rolex, except instead of showing wealth, it showed strength and violence, all the things he has done and could do from his criminal record. Something about him, though, sounds every alarm in you to not even try, makes you want him to absolutely ruin you. You can't put a finger on it, but your uterus knows word for word what you mean.

“You like what you see?”

His words snap you out of your mind as you blink at him, “Huh?” “You keep starin’.”

“Can’t blame me. I couldn't get a proper view since the street lamp by my apartment is dim” You turn your gaze back onto the road. “What’d you go to jail for?” you attempt to ask, trying to strike up some small talk to be rid of the painful awkwardness. “Many things, woman. Yet somehow, I work as a mechanic. Funny how hands that once were covered in blood are now stained in oil and grease.” You nod as you both near the garage, only wanting to know about him and why he was discarded by his family. “You only got tats on your wrists and face?”

“You ask too much.”

“I don't know anything about you, but I feel like you know too much about me.”

“So persistent. I can see why you’re that punk’s friend,” he rolls his eyes as you park the car and both of you jump out of the car. “Not too much on Yuji, had he not said anything, we wouldn't be in this situation.” All he does is tsks while you wander around the building, taking note on how short-staffed it is, yet the size is astounding.

“Man, you one lonely nigga, you got any workers around, or is it just you?” “Just Uraume, now let me work, woman,” he begins pushing the car onto the carlift with his bare hands. After lifting the car up, he takes off his casual top to reveal his beefy stature, his six-pack somewhat buried behind the dad-bod belly, his arms flexed out more and back muscles carved by the heavens. Surprised at his bare strength and ethereal body, your core only wants more, but you need to control yourself, or he’d notice.

While working on your car, you couldn't help but stare more, simply infatuated by him working and the grease of your car staining his body parts, only adding more to the appeal. He’s made aware of this. “Is starin all you do?”

“You did it to yourself, Kuna”

“Kuna?!” he gets ticked off at the nickname.

“You took off your shirt in a room where it's just you and me, and you expect me to look elsewhere? Newsflash, buddy, elsewhere looks boring as fuck”

He drops his arms, wrench gripped tight in one of his arms as his lower right arm reaches for a rag and approaches you. “Well, find somethin’ else to do, ‘cuz it’s setting me off”

“Setting you off how? That a pretty woman is sitting in your garage alone and is admiring your being as you work your muscles on her car?” you bite back, feeling the tension between you two growing more chaotic. The stare-down he’s giving you is only turning you on more. Yuji’s been hiding HIM from me? Should've known about him sooner… 

He sees that you’re not backing down yet again, and an evil smirk paints his face, his canines shining in the building’s lights

“You think I’m set off because you’re ‘pretty’? You’re so fucking full of yourself, aren't you?” his tone is low, still towering your sitting figure.

“Whatchu gonna do about it, Kuna? Set me straight?” you challenge, now standing to assert your stance. 

“You just beggin for it, aint ya? You’re gonna miss your celebratory party if you keep this up,” he crosses his lower arms, the chewing gum you didn't realise he was chewing being evident in his grin as he bores into your unwavering face. “I’m sure my friends can wait a lil longer for their drinks,” you hook onto his silver chain, “besides, it seemed you couldn't get enough of me from the moment Yuji mentioned me; watching my races, stalking me from the ceilings like you’re Batman and finding out where I stay. It’s just screaming how bad you want me.”

Sukuna cakles, his laugh sending reverb throughout the empty building, “say what you want, 

Woman. Keep staring at me like that, and I’d do things that’ll leave you ruined for life,” he leans closer.

“I’m willing to take that risk Kuna,” you whisper back. Before any of you could make a move, the crescendo sound of a car speeding through releases you both from your world. Sukuna looks up and sees that it’s Uraume, internally ticked off at the horrendous timing they have. You notice that it’s the same red and white Impreza from the race, connecting the dots and realising that that’s Sukuna’s other (and only, apparently) worker.

“Boss,” they step out of the car and bow, noticing both of you backed against one of his workbenches. 

“Uraume, you’re dismissed for the night. I got this one,” Sukuna says bluntly, the undertone of leadership just makes you want to jump him right there and then, regardless of an audience. Surprisingly, they don't argue or question him; instead, they bow once again and scurry to the back room to collect anything that they’ve left during the day. Sukuna turns back to you, and the heated tension you two were building more or less evaporates in an instant. He just huffs and returns to fixing your car, leaving you in heated anger. Fuckass Uraume…

After Uraume returns to the garage with their bag, they quickly bid farewell to Sukuna before re-entering their car and driving off, leaving you two back at “square one”. bored once again (because of that cock block), you turn to your flip-phone, noticing the many texts from Nobara and Maki asking where you’re at. You just quickly answer them, saying you’re getting your car fixed and go back to fidgeting. Fidgeting now became boring, you looked up to see Sukuna facing your direction while fixing your axles, the gleam from a mixture of sweat and oil coating his pecs, dipping down his torso and towards his–

“You keep eye-fucking me like that, and I’m gonna make sure your vision isn't clear and curious for the rest of the night,” he remarks, eyes not wandering from where he’s working, catching you a little off-guard.

“Well, blame your lil worker, Uramume or whatever their name is,” you huff, fixing your shirt that doesnt need fixing, “we had a moment.”

“It’s Uraume woman,” he corrects you, “and that’s cuz you were poking at me, made me realise how bad you wanted it.” A chuckle escapes his lips, placing the wrench down and picking up a torque wrench.

“How badly I wanted it? Oh, don't make me laugh,” you scoff, “I saw the way you were eyeing me down in the car and before Uraume arrived, you wanted this cookie so bad, boy. You just mad your buddy cock blocked the tension.” you spin on the chair, secretly smirking evilly at your plan to recreate the tension.

“You’re starting again, woman. Don’t start something you know you can’t finish.” he wipes his brow, placing the torque wrench on the side table before heading your way for another tool. “Who says I know I can’t finish it. Have you met me? I always finish what I start. Without fail or complaint.” You look up at him, his enormous figure overshadowing your sitting figure as he reaches for the bucket behind you.

“Yeah, right, you can’t handle what you don’t know,” he glares down at you, not moving from his position.

“And you can't handle all of this, so…” 

“Is that a challenge?” his evil smirk returns, placing the bucket back on the table as his lower arms linger around your thighs.

“Only if you think you can handle it, Kuna.” Your eyes look doll-like from his point of view, a tent slowly growing in his construction pants, and all four of his blood red eyes stare obsessively down at you. That's all it took for Sukuna's lower arms to lift you onto his workbench, clearing away all his equipment as you sit there, legs barely able to capture his whole hip area. He leans in and kisses you, but it's not a soft one or one of desperation; it feels like someone who has something to prove. Like he needs to show you how badly he’s been secretly wanting this. You could feel his huge hands feel all over your body, his upper ones focused on your jawline down to your breasts, while the lower pair aim toward your legs and waist.  Feeling him knead your inner thighs and boobs made you moan into his mouth, only boosting his ego. “Oh, where’s that confidence you were flaunting before?” he moves his mouth to your jawline and down to your collarbone as he says this, the evident teasing in his words. You wanted to protest, but you feel his fingers slowly move against your soaked panties, having already pushed past whatever you wore for your bottoms. “C’mon~, show me what you’re capable of, baby.” That’s a new nickname, but you don't deep it since he’s now positioned himself between your legs, two arms spreading your thighs and the other pair holding you down by your waist.

“This thing. Off, now,” he demands, small hints of neediness planted in his authoritarian voice. In your mind, you just want to obey and hastily remove your lower garments, but you want Sukuna to earn the right to eat you out. So what do you do? You don't move; you look down at him with a smug face, disregarding how much in heat you are on the inside.

“Hmmm, nah,” you lean over and tilt his chin up, forcing him to look up at you, “you gotta earn this ‘Kuna, I don't give it out for free,”

A look of puzzledness paints Sukuna’s face at your words. Usually, he would get what he wanted, not work for it, especially for a woman he had low-key stalked from a distance for the past few weeks. A moment passes before that smirk comes back on his face, that one that gets you going.”Aren’t you a smart mouth?” He then arises from his kneeling position, now towering over your figure for the nth time as he crosses his lower pair of arms. “So, what do you want from me?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder for a bit, “Lemme see what I’m working with.” Your eyes peer down from his face to his large construction pants, then back up at him. Sukuna understands what you mean as he unbuckles his pants with one hand, watching them drop with his underwear to reveal two (yes, two) massive erections bounce up against his stomach. Your eyes widen a little at the discovery, but you keep your composure, showing him that you're not one to easily give in.

“You scared?” he teases.

“Please, this ain’t nothing,” you roll your eyes, knowing in your mind you’re doing backflips at what those monsters could do to you. You bring your hand up to the upper one, slowly moving your palm against the flesh, receiving a stifled grunt from him. When you look up to make sure you heard that right, he glared back down at you. “What are you looking at, woman?”

“Oh, nothing…just making sure my ears didn't deceive me,” a subtle chuckle escapes your lips before you continue stroking, your other hand moving to the lower one. Each hand now moving at its own pace, only to observe what kind of reactions Sukuna would give you, only to realise he seems to be holding back; stifled grunts and his four eyes occasionally fluttering, he seems to be enjoying it, but his pride won’t give in to the pleasure. Not fully satisfied with his reactions, you decide to lick both tips, tasting that gooey, salty precum against your taste buds. That seemed to create a catalyst, as his lower arms hover around your head, quietly begging for your mouth to take him all, both heads inside your wet, caved facehole. This piqued you, as you continued edging him with only your hands, seeing how much longer he could resist not giving in to forcing you to eat him up. A few more pumps and a more reddened expression later, you decide to take him in your mouth. You lap up the lower dick to sit right underneath the upper one and begin inserting him in your mouth, the size of the two of them overwhelming your lips. You decide to maon into them, sending vibrations through the members to allow Sukuna more pleasure.

“Finally,” he groans out, looking down at how well you managed to fit both of them into you, “and here i thought you were all talk,” you continue sliding him in and out, tilting your head to each side as your hands continue pumping what you couldnt fit, the palm of his hand resting at the back of your head to push you in further. “Cmon, I know you can take more of me. Don’t tell me –ngh– this is all you got?” The condescending teasing only amps you up, since you’re not going to let him be the one in control. You let him out of your mouth as you swat away his hand that was resting on the back of your head, breath still shaky from the lack of air that was coming in you before. “Oh, I can do this all night. How long can you handle it is the question.” A smirk plays on your lips as you stand up and turn him so he’s resting against the workbench, elbows perched on the counter as you feel up his thighs, the rigid muscles sending your mind into overdrive. “Let me finish what I’ve started, then you can have your playtime, Kuna.” You wouldn't even realise it, but Sukuna’s getting a kick out of this: someone else taking the rings instead of him leading the activity somehow turns him on even more. And to see it from you, the person he’s been having his doubts with from the moment your name was brought up in conversation a few weeks ago, oh, he could get used to this. 

Your index finger seductively slides up his dick from the testicles, feeling every vein and twitch from the flesh before swirling around the bells, Sukuna’s smirk not faltering as he looks down at you. You smirk back as you go back down onto him, engulfing both penises in your now hollowed out orifice, bobbing up and down as your hands feel around his pelvic area. His arms begin unconsciously moving towards your head, but you swat them away again, not letting him have any say in how you want him to cum. His thighs begin flexing as he gets closer to his climax, “ahh, yes. Just like that, keep going,” The praises get more vocal, feeling him twitch more in your mouth. At the final bob of your head, you feel two gushes of projectile cum splatter against your uvula as you see Sukuna’s head tilt back slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his neck as he continues to release in your mouth, to which you swallow it all. When you feel that the streams have calmed down, you slide your mouth off both of his dicks, licking your lips as you climb on top of the bench, now cradling his hips against your own. “Told you I could handle it, did you enjoy it?” Hints of arrogance and egotistical tendencies were laced in your words, just wanting to hear this big, beefy man who screams arrogant and prideful to say that you did a great job in taking him well. But Sukuna, being Sukuna, he just rolls his eyes, his big palms gluing themselves onto your waist without warning as he teases your bottoms off.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn,” and in the blink of an eye, your bottoms are ripped off, exposing your sacred core to this enormous being.

“Ahh, extra bushy, if only you let my tongue explore that jungle,” his eyes slightly dilate as his upper hands begin pumping his penises again, ready for another round, “oh well, that’ll be my dessert.”

“Wait Kuna! What’re you–”

“You didn't think you were gonna make me go with what you want forever, did you, woman?” he snarls, sitting up a bit more properly as he gazes down on you, “that was only a smidgen of what i’m capable of,” he keeps your eyes locked onto his as he slowly descends you onto him, his hands aligning his dicks to both your entrances. Upon penetration, your mouth gapes open at the stretch, sounds that you didn't want coming out, fighting their way out of your oesophagus as Sukuna snickers, seeing your prideful facade slowly crumble at his size. “Oh? I thought you could take me pretty well? Where’s that confidence gone now?” he leans in to nip at your earlobe, neck and jaw. His lower arms are moving your hips at his pace, each insertion and pull out being more slicker than the last as you feel your walls being filled up by him. You feel like you're in another universe at how good he feels in you, your hands move up his tatted pecks up to his shoulders for stabilisation as your face winces. “Cmon, I know you got better reactions than that. Don't hold back, show me all of you,” he lifts your chin up to face him, eyes barely able to open at his arrogant expression, enjoying how much you're being ruined and elated by him penetrating you. 

“Feels so-so—good, ahh,” you manage to speak, the sensation making your vocal capabilities narrowed down to moans and mewls.

“Feels good, who? Speak up, woman,” he leans closer, his four pupils fixated on your drunken expression.

“S-Sukuna! Feels so–good,” you manage to get out, hands moving to tangle in his pink hair follicles before pulling him into a messy kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth to show you still have some kind of moxy left in you. He groans slightly but doesnt falter, a chuckle gets swallowed up by you as his upper arms move to feel up around your torso, sliding up your waist and begin fondling your breasts, leaving you wanting more. 

Your hips continue to take him down below, every bounce leading you more to your climax as you latch off his lip and rest your forehead on his shoulder, “Oh k-kuna, i-i’m”

“Already, mamas? We just started,” he coos, “Don’t tell me you’re giving up now? You can hold on longer, can’t you? Show me what you got.”

That ‘mamas’ nickname snapped you back to your senses, holding off your climax to prove you can go as long as you want. His seeing you control your ejaculation made him speed up, now occasionally perking his hips up against yours to add some work in. “That’s it, keep going and maybe I could finish before you,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers through your already overstimulated body. You huff and puff, but you’re taking up his challenge, no matter how badly you want to cum on his members.

You two keep going, surprised at how long he’s holding on, almost as if he’s not going to let his body give in before you. Now, it came to a standoff of whose body will give in to pleasure and release first. Both of you were grunting and huffing, each stretch feeling more blissful than the last. Sukuna’s eyebrows knitted together, and you were near giving this man hickies against his pectorals and collarbone with how close your face was to his chest. In the end, without both of you realising, both of your bodies clenched simultaneously as you squirted onto him as he shot into you, essentially ending the race in a tie. Both of your eyes rolled back as your grip on his shoulders began clawing down onto his shoulders, a drop of sweat sliding down his jawline as he looked down at you and you looked up at him. No words were exchanged as he leaned in to give you a slow, sensual kiss on your lips, as if he were praising you for your efforts without saying it out loud. 

After releasing yourself from the kiss, you slowly ascend yourself off of his penises, feeling the emptiness from your pussy and your asshole as he pulls his pants back up. Upon attempting to stand, your legs were still shaky, causing you to falter, and one of his right arms came to capture you before your ass met the ground.

“Trust me, you won't be able to walk for a good while after this,” he says, standing up, you still attached to his huge arm, ”consider this payment for your car and a message that you’re not going anywhere else for your car, got that?”

You look up at him; though it felt like a threat, it sounded as though he didn't want you out of his reach, like he wanted you to stay with him, regardless if he included the car or not. 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout that, ‘Kuna, I ain't going nowhere,” you reply, making yourself comfortable in his hold as he suddenly lifts you up so that you’re seated on his shoulders. Except, you’re facing his back. “Whoa, what are you–”

“I said I wanted dessert, woman. I’mma get it,” he states, licking up your already puffy, filled-up folds that were seated right in front of his face. This sent shivers up your spine as a moan slips from your lips and your hand snaps onto his hair again. He snickers as he walks the two of you to your car, still unfinished from the repairs he was doing. He opens the car door to seat you on there as he continues working, your core still leaking from both of your juices mixing within you. You’re panting but also slightly confused at what he’s doing. You see him going to his toolbox and reaching for some tools before returning, his head stands between your legs.

“Gotta keep my motivation near me to finish this job,” he reaches for a bolt that needs tightening, tightens it, then comes up and presses his huge nose against your clit, his tongue seeking how you taste with his seed inside you. “Mmh, now I've got more energy to finish,” he grins, seeing your upper body lean back against the console at the pleasure you’re feeling.

At this rate, you’ll miss the party you worked so hard to get vip for. Oh well, right now you’d say this is the best part of the night.

Sorry Nobara and Maki, I’ll make it up to y'all one day…

a/n: hey guys.....sorry i havent been active, this degree's showing me flames rn😭😭but anyway, i've been writing this in my free time so its taken a while but this is the longest one shot ive done

also my jjk oneeshot debut woohooo😛😛😛😛 pls leave likes, reposts and comments if you enjoyed it🫧

[iheartsukunaq]

Sextape

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

you and Sukuna film a sextape :)

wc: 4.8k

tags: 18+, nsfw, recorded sex, unprotected p in v, feet, m! oral, f! oral, fingering, Sukuna’s happy trail :), face grabbing, praising, slight nipple play, spit, different positions, creampie, weed (duh),

a/n: i <3 deftones

masterlist

The room is dim, lit only by the TV and the soft blue glow lining the ceiling. The kind of lighting that makes everything feel quieter than it actually is. A show plays in the background, voices overlapping, something dramatic happening on screen, but neither of you are really watching it all that closely.

You’re both sitting on Sukuna’s bed, you’re sitting near the end while he is laying against the headboard. That’s just where you end up when you’re together.

He’s focused on rolling a blunt for both of you. His head slightly dipped and his hands moving slowly like he’s in no rush at all. You’re turned toward him just enough, talking more than watching. Your voice fills the space between the two of you.

“I don’t care what anyone says, Diane carried that whole show,” you say leaning back slightly on your hands.

“Like actually, without her, Bojack would’ve just spiraled ten times faster.”

He hums quietly as he smooths the paper between his fingers. “He was still spiraling.”

“Yeah but she tried to help him,” you push, glancing at the TV for half a second before looking back at him.

“That counts for something.”

“It does,” he agrees easily, not even arguing this time, which almost makes you pause.

You look at him for a second. Narrowing your eyes just a little. “You’re agreeing too fast. That’s suspicious.”

He lets out a quiet breath through his nose, barely amused. “Or maybe you’re just right for once.”

“Wow for once is crazy,” you mutter, not taking what he said to heart. There’s no edge to his tone.

There never really is when he speaks to you.

The conversation just… keeps going, drifting from one thing to another without ever fully stopping. One minute it’s Bojack slander, the next it’s something random, then back again, like neither of you care enough to stay on topic but also don’t want the talking to stop.

It just feels good to be here.

To sit this close, to hear his voice low and steady next to you. To watch him while you ramble about something that probably doesn’t matter. At some point, your attention drifts without you realizing it.

You notice the small things.

The way his shoulders are relaxed, the way he pauses for a second to fix the edge, the way the TV light catches on his face every time the scene changes.

You’re still talking, but softer now. Your thoughts drift just slightly out of sync with your words.

He brings the rillo closer, checking it over and drags his tongue along the edge. Slow enough to seal it. Quick enough that it shouldn’t matter.

But it does.

Damn

Your sentence stumbles for a split second. Your mind lagged behind your mouth. You pick it back up immediately, hoping it didn’t sound as off as it felt. Your eyes lifting toward the TV once more even though you’re not actually seeing what’s on it anymore.

It’s nothing.

Just part of what he’s doing.

Still… you don’t quite settle back the same way after that. Your voice stays a little quieter, your movements a little more aware. The space between you suddenly feels smaller, even though neither of you moved at all. He doesn’t react. Just finish it like normal.

He finishes it without saying anything. Lighting the side to seal his spit that mends the paper together. There’s a quiet kind of focus in the way he works. Even something simple gets his full attention.

He looks up at you, his hand taps the bed beside him, closer this time.

“Come here.”

It’s casual, like he already knows you will. You don’t even think about it, sliding over until you’re right next to him. Your leg brushing his, your shoulder close enough to feel the warmth coming off him. The space between you disappears so easily it almost feels like it was always meant to be like this.

His arm comes around your waist without hesitation, settling there like it belongs, pulling you in just enough that you lean into him without realizing it. It was something that was familiar and comfortable.

He brings the blunt up, holding it between his lips for a second as he flicks the lighter with one hand. The flame flares briefly, lighting up his face just enough for you to catch the shift in his expression before it fades again.

You watch him.

You don’t mean to—it just happens.

The way he lights it, steady and unbothered, like he’s done this a thousand times. The glow catches at the edge, ember starting to burn as he takes a slow drag, then another, settling into it like he has nowhere else to be.

His arm tightens slightly around your waist while he does, keeping you close without making it a big deal. He turns his head just enough toward you before bringing it down to your level.

Just holding it there.

“Uh uh,” he says quietly when you reach for it. His hand is pulling away from yours before you can take it from him. The way he says it isn’t sharp, not really, but there’s something in it that makes you pause anyway. Like he’s already decided how this is going to go.

His voice is low, barely more than a murmur.

“Let me do it, princess.”

You blink, tilting your head slightly as you look up at him with a small, almost amused smile.

“Oh, so you don’t trust me to do it myself?” you murmur, your voice softer now with a teasing undertone. Your fingers brushing his before you let your hand fall back.

He lets out a quiet breath through his nose, barely reacting to the tone, like it doesn’t even register as something worth arguing about. His arm tightens just slightly around your waist as he shifts you closer, the movement absentminded but firm. He wants you exactly where you are.

“It’s not that, you just shouldn’t have to,” he says, glancing at you briefly before looking back down at what he’s holding.

“Just stay there and look pretty.”

It’s said so easily, like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t carry any weight—but it does. You feel it settle somewhere under your skin, warmer than it should be. Heavier than it has any right to be for something so simple.

You don’t argue with him.

Not this time at least.

You shift a little closer, your leg crossing over his, and your shoulder leaning into him just enough that you can feel the warmth of him through your clothes. His arm adjusts automatically, pulling you in like it’s second nature. This is something that happens without either of you having to think about it anymore.

When he brings it up to your lips, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t push it forward or pull away—he just holds it there, steady and waiting. Like he expects you to meet him halfway.

And you do.

You lean in slowly, your attention narrowing down to the space between you. His hand stays right there, close enough that you can feel the heat of it near your face.

Just before you take the drag, your hand lifts again. Your fingers wrap gently around his wrist—the one holding it for you—not to take it but, just to hold him there. To feel the steadiness of him under your touch. It’s light, barely anything, but it’s intentional in a way that makes your chest feel just slightly tighter.

You inhale slowly.

Your grip lingering for just a second longer than it needs to before you pull back, exhaling softly as you settle against him again.

For a moment, everything feels the same.

The TV still plays in the background, voices overlapping, the blue light still flickering across the room, nothing outwardly different but something shifts anyway.

You feel it more than you see it.

The way his arm tightens just a fraction around your hips, the way he doesn’t immediately move to take it back, the way his breath got quietly heavier.

If you looked up at him right then you’d probably notice that he’s not paying attention to the show anymore.

You don’t move away after that.

You settle back against him like before, like nothing really changed. You latch onto the TV again just enough to keep things normal.

“…no, because why does he always wait until things are finally going right to mess it up again,” you say as a quiet laugh slips out as you shake your head.

“Like at that point it’s not even sad anymore, it’s just… annoying.”

He lets out a low hum behind you, bringing the blunt back to his lips as you talk.

“He doesn’t know how to keep anything good,” he says it like it’s simple. His voice is a little rougher now, words slipping out around the inhale.

You shift slightly against him, still talking, still half focused on the show. The other half of your attention is on Sukuna.

The way his shirt clung to his chest

The way his tattoos frame his fac-

Snap out of it.

“That’s what makes it worse though because he could… he just doesn’t.” You murmur.

He doesn’t respond right away. You feel the subtle movement of him taking another drag with a deep inhale.

His hand moves.

His fingers come up to your face, gripping at your jaw and guiding you closer to him in a way that feels dominant. Like he expects you to follow without needing to say anything.

And you do.

Your breath catches just slightly—not because you’re surprised, but because of how it feels. The way his hand holds you there. The way it makes your chest tighten just a little, like something deeper is sitting under it.

You don’t question it.

You don’t pull back.

You already know what he’s doing.

Your lips part slightly, your body leaning in without needing to think about it, meeting him halfway as the space between you disappears again.

When he exhales, it’s slow.

Controlled.

The smoke passes between you, warm and thick, and you inhale instinctively, like your body already knew what to do before your mind caught up. It lingers for a second, the moment stretching just enough to feel it, to feel him this close. His hand is still steady against your face, holding you there like he doesn’t want you moving yet.

You hold it in your lungs for as long as you could staring half lidded into his eyes.

You pull back just slightly, turning your head as you exhale the rest. Your voice is not quite ready to come back yet, as you try to fight off a cough attack.

He stays quiet.

Doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move away right away either.

If you looked at him, you might notice the way his gaze lingers a second too long, the faint shift in his expression, the way his lip catches briefly between his teeth before he lets it go.

But you don’t.

You just settle back against him again after successfully recovering. Your voice easing into something easy.

“…wait, did you see the new episode of Dance Moms?” you ask suddenly, turning your head just slightly like you remembered out of nowhere. “Abby was being so bad, like worse than usual… I think she’s on coke.”

Sukuna lets out a quiet scoff, shifting just enough so you can feel it.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on that booger sugar,” he mutters.

“I don’t know why they keep bringing their kids back to her if she’s so bad.”

You smile a little at that, relaxing more into him. “No, but this time it was actually crazy. Like she was yelling at them for no reason.”

“They let her, at some point that’s on them,” he says simply, his tone flat, like it’s obvious.

You hum softly, nodding a little even though he can’t really see it. “Okay, yeah, but still… they’re kids.”

“They’re on TV,” he replies like that explains everything. You let out a small laugh at that, shaking your head as you keep going, not really caring if the conversation makes perfect sense anymore.

“I don’t care, I’d still pull my kid out so fast,” you say.

“Like no fame is worth th-.”

His lips press to your cheek. It’s not rushed or teasing.

Just… there.

It cuts your sentence off. Your are words catching in your throat.

You try to keep talking anyway.

“—how big the opportunity is,” you finish, softer now, your voice not landing the same way it did before.

“Mm, keep talking.” He says though his attention isn’t on the conversation anymore. His arm around you feels more intentional now.

“I just think they should’ve—” you start, but it doesn’t come out right, your voice catching as his lips move lower.

His lips move again, this time slower, placing a heated kiss just slightly along your jaw before settling there for a second longer than they should.

Your breath shifts.

You try to keep talking anyway.

“They should’ve just…” you trail off, your voice barely there now, your fingers tightening lightly against his arm.

He goes lower…

To your neck.

That’s where you break.

Your words don’t come back the same, your thoughts slipping completely as your head tilts just slightly without you meaning to, your body giving in before your mind can catch up.

“Ryo—”

His hand comes up to grab your jaw, turning your face toward him in one smooth motion like he’s done thinking about it.

He kisses you.

It’s not slow the way the others were—it’s deeper, more certain. Everything that had been building finally has somewhere to go. It pulls you in immediately, your body reacting before you can think. Your hand coming up to him without even realizing it.

You lean into it without question.

His hand stays at your jaw, keeping you there, like he doesn’t want you pulling away even if you tried. The kiss lingers, deepens just enough to make everything else fall away completely.

The TV, the noise, his loud overhead fan… all of it had went mute

All of it.

Now it’s just him.

And the way he’s kissing you like he’s been holding back all night. The kiss deepened as your bodies pressed closer on the bed. The boiling tension turned into raw desire. His hardening cock pressed against his shorts. The warmth of your pussy flushed with arousal.

Both of your lips parted with a string of spit. The taste lingering of each other and sweet smoke on your tongues. Sukuna’s hands roamed along your side, tugging on the ends of your shirt. You arched into him as you let out a soft gasp against his mouth.

Together, you both fumbled through the layers of fabric. You shedded your top, revealing your breast beneath a thin lace bra. He discarded his shirt exposing his tatted, muscular torso. Fine pink hair trailed down his navel to his growing member.

He crashed his lips back into yours, pressing closer to you. Your nipples hardening against his chest mirroring the aching feeling that’s growing between your thighs.

Sukuna pulled back enough to trail his lips down the column of your neck. Each kiss leaves a trail of goosebumps. Each kiss is a deliberate claim that makes you whimper softly. He went further down, his mouth exploring the valley between your breasts. He teases the edge of your bra with his tongue before going lower.

He kissed over the soft skin of your stomach where your muscles quivered under his touch. His hands slid to your waistband, sliding your shorts slowly past your hips and tossing them carelessly on the ground. Then going back up to kiss the bare of your thighs.

He didn’t stop there.

His kisses continued, mapping and worshipping the length of your legs until he reached your feet. Cradling one delicately in his hands. He pressed his lips to the arch of your sole, his breath warm and teasing. His attention goes to each toe, sucking gently on the most sensitive spots.

The intimate act sends unexpected waves of pleasure through you. Your pussy throbbing with a surge of heat as you watch him through half lidded eyes.

He kissed his way back up, retracing the path with slow licks and nips along your calf and inner thighs. He made his way back up to your face and paused just at your lips. His voice a husky whisper against your mouth,

“Y/n..” he muttered. His eyes locking onto yours with that possessive stare.

“…what if we capture this, us, right now? Something for us to remember.”

“Let’s make a sextape.”

His words hung in the charged silence. His hands slid up to cup your cheek as the question ignited a spark of excitement in you. Your eyes widened with a spark of thrill, your lips carving into a mischievous smile as you met his intense gaze.

“Okay,” you breathed, your voice laced with eager affection.

Sukuna’s face lit up with a predatory grin. He closed the gap between you in an instant, capturing your lips in a deep searing kiss that tasted of smoke and promise. His tongue delved hungrily into your mouth as his hands cradled your face pulling you closer until your bodies mended.

Breaking the kiss with a low growl, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. His movements swift, and thumb pressing the record button without any hesitation before handing it to you.

“I want you to look back on this…” he murmured huskily. His voice rough with need as he trailed kisses down your neck, over the swell of your breast, and lower.

“…and remember just how good I made you feel.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. His lips grazed the soft skin of your inner thighs before his mouth found your slick folds. His tongue diving into the warmth of your pussy with strokes that made you gasp and arch your back.

You fumbled with the phone, your fingers trembling as you adjusted it to keep him in frame. One of your hands tangled in his pink strands to guide him. The sensation of his lips and tongue teasing your clit building pressure that blurred the edges of your vision. Your breath came in ragged moans that echoed in the room.

“Ahh, ryo- mm”

He inserts one finger, curling it as he sucks on your swollen slit. His cock is throbbing in his shorts, desperate to feel your warmth. but seeing you squirm under his tongue was way better.

Your nails scraping his scalp.

Your breathless moans.

Your parted lips.

He loved every single part of you.

He inserted another finger, pumping in and out, leaving you helplessly under him. As the pleasure built, your grips on his hair tightened, and you tugged him upward gently. Your eyes locked onto his with a fiery look.

“Wait,” you panted. Your voice mixed with satisfaction and longing.

“I want to return the favor.”

With a playful shove, you guided him onto his back. The sheets rustling beneath him. You straddled his legs briefly, then handed him the phone. Your fingers brushed his in the tender exchange.

Sukuna took it, letting the camera focus on you. His gaze filled with raw adoration and anticipation as you slid down his body. Your hands tracing the hard lines of his tattooed chest and abdomen. Brushing over his happy trail before reaching the waistband of his shorts.

You pulled them down swiftly, freeing his throbbing cock, and lowered your mouth onto him. Your lips wrapping around his tip with slow, deliberate suction that drew a deep groan from his throat.

Your movements become more rhythmic and devoted as you take him deeper. Your lips and throat worked around his throbbing cock as your tongue swirling and teasing. The salty taste of his precum floods your senses, drawing out soft hums from your throat.

Sukuna’s breath hitched, his free hand threading through your hair to gently brush it aside, exposing the flush look on your cheeks and the way your eyes fluttered shut.

“Mmm, you look so fucking perfect like this.” He growled. His voice low and laced with that raw edge of possession that made your core tighten.

He cradled your face in his palm, fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. His thumb brushed your low lip where it stretched around him. The intimate gesture pulled your gaze up to meet his. Eyes locked in a silent exchange of hunger, amplifying the emotional undercurrent that bound you both tighter than the physical act itself.

With a final lingering suck that earned a deep groan from him, you pulled back slowly. Your lips glistened with fluids as you rose on all fours, crawling up his body like a predator claiming its prize. He props the phone against a pillow, capturing every heated movement.

Sukuna’s hands slid to your hips as you straddled him, guiding you downward with a firm, possessive grip. His cock pressing against the slick heat of your pussy.

“Oh shiiit,” he rasped. The words escaped in a guttural rush as you lowered yourself onto him inch by inch. Your tight warmth enveloping him, drawing a mutual moan from both of y’all’s lips.

Your head tips back exposing the long lines of your throat as pleasure rippled through you. One of his hands roam up to cup the side of your breast, thumb circling and pinching your hardened nipple. Your bodies moved in sync. Your hands grip his chest as your hips grind down with deliberate rolls that send shockwaves of sensation through both of you.

“Fuuuck ‘kuna.”

The room filled with the sound of skin slapping and their mingled breaths. Your body trembled with each deep grind. Your walls clench around him in waves that drew moans from you both.

The need for something more primal surged through Sukuna.

With a firm yet tender grip on your hips, he guided you off him, flipping you onto all fours with a swift motion that left you gasping. Your knees sinking into the rumpled sheets and your ass arched invitingly toward him.

The dim light shined across your slick skin, highlighting the curve of your back and the glistening arousal between your thighs. He positioned himself behind you, his cock throbbing with anticipation.

Grabbing the phone from its perch on the pillow, he angled it downward for his point of view. The screen captures the raw, intimate view of both of your bodies joining once more. His free hand sliding up to rub you waist in slow circles. His fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver.

“Fuuuck you feel so g-good like this,” Sukuna growled. His voice laced with a dark edge of desire as he thrusted in you from behind. The angle hitting deeper spots that made you cry out. Your pussy gripping him tightly with every stroke.

Your words tumbling out in a breathy whisper turned moan.

“Nmh, ryo- you’re stretching me so perfect. Do-on’t stop… I need you deeper.”

Your dirty talk fueled the heat in the room. Each filthy promise and praise weaves through the air. His hand remained on your waist while he recorded every shuddering impact.

He leaned in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist to hug you from behind. He pulled you upright, pressing his chest against your back and his lips to your ear. The phone now tilted to capture your flushed face in frame.

“You’re mine y/n,” he murmured, his voice mixed with praise and raw vulnerability. The camera zoomed in on your parted lips and half lidded eyes as you turned your head slightly to meet his gaze.

"Look at you, so beautiful taking every inch of me-mm fuck, I love how you come undone for me." He said.

Your response was a sultry moan, "Y-yes, all yours... it fe-els incredible," your words spurring him on as he continued to move within you.

Your bodies locked in a dance of passion that left you both teetering on the edge of release. Your body trembling on the rush of release, every nerve ending alive with the rhythm of his thrust.

Sukuna paused, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered,

"Not yet, princess— let me see all of you."

With a possessive growl, he withdrew just enough to flip you onto your back. Your legs parted eagerly as he settled between them in missionary. The phone still in his hand, now angled to capture your full body—your flushed face, the swell of your breast heaving with each labored breath, your pussy taking all of him.

Your eyes locked onto his, wide with a mix of frustration and raw need. He plunged back into you, deeper this time, his cock filling you completely. Stretching you in ways that made you gasp and arch upward.

“Shit ryo, you’re hitting me so deep,” you moaned, your voice laced with desperation and adoration.

Your hands clawing at his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer. The camera’s glow reflects the sweat beading on your skin and your wet pussy clenching around him.

He kept up the pace, his hips snapping forward with controlled intensity.

“That’s it, take every inch o-of me- look how perfect you are, coming undone for me.”

The emotional weight of his gaze filled with hunger, making your heart race as much as your body. The room is echoing with the sounds of your cries. Tension coiled tightly in your core as he leaned in to fiercely kiss you. Tongues tangled as the unstoppable wave of your orgasm came crashing over you.

“I c-cant hold it ryo-“

“Nmh come with me, y/n.”

Your pussy pulsed around him, drawing him over the edge with you. His cock throbbing as he emptied himself inside. A groan tore through his throat.

For a heartbeat, you stayed locked together. His body pressed fully against yours, his weight is a comforting anchor as you both catch your breaths. The after shock ripples through you both in intimate silence. Your eyes meeting in a wordless affirmation of your bond.

Slowly, Sukuna pulled out. His softening cock slipping free with a wet sound. You felt the warm trail of his cum seeping down from you. A reminder that left you feeling deliciously exposed and utterly his.

Sukuna’s eyes lingered on your flushed form, his chest heaving as he propped himself up on one elbow. The phone steady in his other hand. He angled the phone lower, capturing the intimate sight of his release trickling down your swollen pussy. Your thighs parted under his guidance. A vulnerable shiver ran down your spine as you met his eyes.

Your breath quickened at the way his fluid had marked you. He traced a finger along your inner thigh, smearing the evidence gently.

“Look at that, so fucking beautiful… all of you, every part.” His voice a low murmur of admiration as the camera captures the moment. His words make your cheeks more flushed, luckily he couldn’t tell.

With a satisfied exhale, Sukuna pressed the screen to stop recording. The phone's light faded as he set it aside on the night stand. The room settled into a quieter space.

He turned back to you, his expression softening from the hunger moments before to something more tender. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his chest where the steady beat of his heart matched your own.

His hands roam your body with soothing strokes along your back and curve of your ass, easing the lingering tension from your muscles.

“You’re incredible, y/n.” He whispered. His lips brushing your forehead in a series of gentle kisses. Each one is infused with his affection.

You both lay entwined, the warmth of his body providing a comforting shield against the cooling air. You nestled closer, your head tucked under his chin.

“I love you”

“I love you”

…

…

…

“That video would’ve done numbers…”

“Oh one hundred percent.”

masterlist

[aransmind]

zoro in streetwear