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catbolt · 1 month ago

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— RESONANCE

[SOUNDTRACK] Spell #6 - Part Time || ▶︎

You resonate for the first time with Sylus-- in bed.

[TAGS] sylus x mc, smut (wholesome lovey dovey sex while resonating), vanilla, vulnerable!Sylus, mc taking the lead, cockwarming

[A/N] ngl despite all the spicy banner frenzy im still kinda reeling over the sylus myth i just finished getting thru so this is me coping

[WC] 3k

songfic 4/?

Thick carpets of rain cascade down outside, rhythmically pattering on the window as she snuggles into Sylus’ shoulder a little closer under the blankets. He chuckles, the low vibrations of his laugh reverberating through her. “What, are you getting scared on me now?” “No,” she protests, eyes flicking from the gory scenes playing out on the TV at the foot of the bed up to Sylus’ warm gaze as he looks down at her.

“Funny, because I could have sworn you just shivered against me.” He playfully squeezes his thigh where her hand rests.

“Did not,” She insists, moving to pinch his arm in retaliation. He lets out a grunt of surprise. “Plus, I was the one who suggested it. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I was scared.”

“Fine, touche,” Sylus relents with a chuckle. “But you totally shivered.” “Maybe I’m cold,” she mutters.

“Cold?” He pulls up the blankets higher over both of them. “Want me to get another blanket?” “It’s fine. I can think of another way you can warm me up.” She smirks in his direction, but finds he’s completely missed the innuendo, instead just innocently pulling her closer to him, wrapping his big arms around her as they snuggle closer. His fingers trace soothing lines over her back. “I’m warm. If you get closer to me, it should rub off on you,” he murmurs softly.

She chuckles to herself at this odd moment of innocence from someone who’s usually so sharp and sardonic, wrapping her arm around him in turn. In this position, she’s barely even able to see the TV, only the flashing lights reflected on the ceiling and Sylus’ face. She watches him for a while as his eyes remain trained on the screen.

“That part was so gross,” he mutters, gesturing to the screen. “Why did they have to make it like–” as he meets her eyes, he realizes they’ve been on him the entire time as she rests nestled in his arms. He lets out a soft huff. “You aren’t even paying attention. I can’t be more interesting than the movie. They just killed off like five of the characters at once.” “Oh, I think you’re a lot more interesting,” she responds with a gentle laugh.

“Am I?” He says, eyes flickering back to the movie for a moment once more before she has his full attention. He leans over her, his arms fully encircling her under the soft blankets. One of his hands rises to stroke her cheek gently and his voice falls to nothing more than a whisper. “Do you want me to pause the movie?”

He’s barely audible over the sound of the storm outside, cracks of thunder starting to mingle with the rain that has become torrential and relentless in its assault against the window.

“We don’t have to pause it. It seems like you were enjoying it.” As she looks at him she’s caught in his arresting crimson gaze. The feeling is like being stuck in molasses, her entire body entirely surrounded, submerged completely in the aching warmth of it.

“How about I just lower the volume?” he murmurs, his hand momentarily slipping out from under the covers to find the remote. “You have my full attention, sweetheart.” A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as she takes in how off-kilter she suddenly looks, as if he’s seeing her for the first time again. “You look like a deer in headlights,” he murmurs, leaning down until his nose is brushing hers. “Why do you do that sometimes? When I look at you…”

She feels his soft breath against her lips and suddenly everything else– the movie, the rain– is white noise. “I don’t know,” she says softly. “I just feel overwhelmed a little when you look at me so intently.”

“Overwhelmed?” He pulls back just a hair. “In a bad way?”

“No,” she reassures him firmly, her hand snaking behind him and tangling in his hair, gently pulling him closer so their noses are once again touching. “Not in a bad way. I like how you look at me. Like I’m something precious.”

His lips curve into a gentle smile against hers as they kiss, his hands sliding around her, pulling her closer as the movie continues to play quietly in the background. The kiss is slow and languid, their limbs tangling under the covers.

With a gentle yet firm touch, he lays her back against the pillows, his body hovering just barely over hers as he they kiss. “You are precious,” he mutters between kisses, his voice thick.

He breaks the kiss to trails his lips across her jawline and down her neck, his hands slowly, tenderly exploring her pajama-clad form. In her mind the sounds of the movie have completely drowned into nothingness– the only thing she can hear is their shared breathing and the rustle of the sheets at Sylus’ gentle movements. It’s so damn romantic it almost takes her breath away, her body arching into each of his careful touches.

“You know I mean that, right?” He looks down at her, his lips parted and cheeks softly flushed as his hands dip under the hem of her shirt to rest lightly against her ribcage, the gentle warmth of his palms soothing as he rubs his fingers across her torso. She nods. Though she generally prides herself on being a logical and careful person, she could never find it in her to doubt Sylus, not for even a moment. He doesn’t need to tell her how he feels. Every touch of his hand on her might as well be an utterance of reverence, a prayer, the tenderness and yearning somehow palpable each time his fingertips make contact.

Her hand steals one of his from where it massages her sides, and she intertwines her fingers with his, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. “I know it.”

He captures her lips in another kiss, unbearably slow and kind, as his free hand still beneath her shirt caresses each inch of her stomach and ribs. Both of them are too preoccupied to notice as a soft golden light begins to leak from between their locked palms, pulsing softly as her Evol reacts with his for the first time.

What makes Sylus’ eyes finally flutter open is the sudden warmth he feels in the palm of his hand. He gazes to the side at their clasped hands by her head, eyes widening. “Baby,” he says, voice hoarse with feeling. “You’re… resonating with me.”

Her eyes are drawn to the shining light as well. She almost feels like there’s a pearl in her palm, something round where the light emanates, that seems to pulse like it’s living. “Oh, wow,” she says breathlessly, watching as the light slowly strengthens and steadies.

“But I don’t know what it is,” she murmurs. “It’s different depending on what Evol I’m resonating with, and the needs of the specific situation… and I’ve never resonated in this kind of situation before, obviously…”

He laughs softly at that, gently rotating their interlaced hands so he can peer between them. “What happens now?” “I don’t know. I mean, your Evol is energy manipulation, so this must be some form of an amplification of that.” She gazes up at him, heart racing in her chest.

“I want to keep kissing you,” he murmurs, then squeezes her hand.

He doesn’t need to say it twice. She leans upward, kissing him deeply, her mouth opening greedily in invitation for his tongue as their hands remain interlinked. The glow pulses like a heartbeat, sending pleasant warmth through them both. It’s a soft, nonviolent energy, manifesting not with the intent to attack or defend, but simply to be. To mingle and grow in their togetherness.

She finally comes up for air, her breaths deepening. “Hold on,” she murmurs, and gently she disentangles her fingers from his, their palms separating. The glow dissipates between them, making Sylus’ eyes flicker with a tinge of sadness, but when his hand returns to her body and slides down her side, a faint soft glow accompanies the movement. He blinks. “It’s still here,” he mumbles.

She reaches out, her hands now seeking his body. She lays her palms flat on his chest and the gentle glow blooms again, barely visible through the fabric of his shirt, though the gentle heat that grows and grows slowly as she leaves them there is undeniable. He gasps at the contact, gazing down at himself. “I’m gonna take it off,” he says, hands coming over his head to roughly pull off his shirt. He grips her wrists, bringing her hands up to rest on his now-bare chest again, the light now uninhibited and visible to both of them.

“It’s beautiful,” he says. “You’re doing this… it’s incredible.”

“I’m only able to do it because of you,” she adds on quietly “It’s your Evol that I’m using to create… whatever this is.”

Gradually they shed their clothes, movie long forgotten. He’s desperate to touch her, to see the gentle light dance across her skin, to revel in the magic she’s creating. His heart pounds with adrenaline and desire as she pulls her shirt off to reveal her body, his hands that come up to cup her breasts leaving searing coins of light across her skin where they touch. Her own hands seek and massage him, growing more and more insistent as her arousal builds. Something about the fact that everywhere she touches is marked with the evidence of their resonance sends something constricting around her heart, making it hard for her to swallow like her throat has closed.

As she tugs down his sweats and boxers, the glow deepens, turning more orange and red as it flickers like candle light in each spot she puts her fingers. “Your Evol…” she murmurs with wonder. “It’s starting to resemble your Evol more.”

“Is that…bad?” He looks down at the glowing marks on his hips where she’s just held him. For a moment, a flare of panic rises in his chest. His Evol… violent and relentless, a force for killing. He wants nothing more than for it to never touch her, for her to never see it, for her to never know the pain he is capable of causing. Not his beautiful girl. He withdraws his hands from her body as fear overcomes him. “Does it hurt?” “No,” she reassures him, catching his hands before he can fully pull away. “Baby, don’t worry. I’ll tell you if it hurts, okay?” She pulls him closer, spreading her legs and hooking them behind his.

The heat of her core is a stark contrast to the coolness of the sheets, and the light between them flares up at the contact, a warm glow enveloping them both. “It’s… it’s reacting to this?” “I guess so,” she laughs softly, still mesmerized at the lights that glow in the darkness on his skin like little fireflies where she’s touched. Slowly she grinds her hips against his, needing more contact. Her slick heat coats his length as she slowly rocks her hips up and down against it. His hands tentatively find her waist again, still scared of causing her pain, but when her face shows no sign of anything other than pleasure he grips a little firmer, helping her move up and down. She groans softly as the head pushes through her wet folds again and again, grazing her clit with each soft movement.

His breath comes in ragged gasps now, the light between them intense enough that they're practically glowing in the darkness. He guides himself between her legs with trembling hands. “Should I– do you…” He trails off, his usual silver-tongued eloquence deserting him.

“I want to,” she nods, her legs parting further. “And you’ll tell me if it starts hurting or feeling uncomfortable in any way?” His thumb draws soothing circles against her hip, leaving a glowing red mark, as the other gently hoists one of her legs over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you,” she murmurs, eyes heady with desire. “But I have a feeling nothing’s going to hurt us.” She gently squeezes his thigh where she can reach, attempting to soothe his worries a little.

He pushes into her slowly, the light between them pulsing with each inch. The resonance seems to hum with approval, light wrapping around them both like tendrils, similar to how Sylus’ Evol alone reaches and grabs like a red flurry. But this light is softer, tender, encircling them, as if binding them together. She gasps out in pleasure, the sensation and warmth and fullness almost too much to bear as he fills her completely.

He looks down at where they’re joined, seeing the faint light pulsing between them like a heartbeat. Sheathed completely in her, every sensation is somehow amplified by their resonance, to the point where he swears he can feel her heartbeat through where they connect, his own heart falling easily in time.

“Move baby,” she pleads, her body taut with pleasure. “Please…”

Nodding, he begins to move his hips slowly, as if in fear of disturbing this delicate balance they’ve found. But the resonance seems to encourage him. He picks up his speed gradually, attuned deeply to every movement of her body and expression on her face, searching for signs of discomfort.

“Oh god,” she moans softly, turning her head into the pillow. It always feels good like this with him, but this time is uniquely special. As she gazes up at him she watches as golden threads of light wrap across his chest and waist, following each curve of his body gently as he makes love to her. “You’re beautiful, Sy…”

His hips stutter at her hushed endearment, drawing a strangled gasp from him as he tries to reestablish his rhythm. Her slick walls constrict around him as he buries his head in her neck, groaning softly as he pumps in and out of her. The golden threads seem to tug them closer with each passing moment. He whispers softly into her ear, his lips finding her neck. “Does it feel good?”

He’s embarrassed that he needs this reassurance right now, but his body is trembling with fear, scared that somehow his Evol will rear its head and make this much less pleasant. His touches on her sides are delicate, soft, making sure each mark that the resonance leaves on her skin is just a barely-there pinprick of light.

“It feels amazing,” she says softly, gently running her hands down his back. “Don’t hold back. It’s okay.”

He bites back his fear, peppering soft wet kisses against her neck and feeling the heat radiate back to him in the red glowing marks that blossom in the wake of his lips. He continues rocking into her, his pace slowly increasing, their panting breaths mingling together as they both near their respective orgasms. The resonance’s intensity grows warmer and deeper, penetrating both of them deep into their chests with the intensity of a knife but the softness of a warm blanket, the feeling enormous and extraordinary between them. “Do you feel that?” He pants between his thrusts, his hands gripping her sides softly.

“I feel it,” she whispers between ragged moans. “It’s– It’s so–”

The words elude both of them now, and all she can do is cry out his name as her body hits her peak. He feels her inner walls spasming around him, triggering his own release as he comes crashing down over the edge right behind her, letting out a strangled cry as he fills her, ropes of his release coating her insides. Light ricochets out between where their bodies are pressed atop each other, the burst momentarily all either of them can see before it fades, disintegrating away into pinpricks of light like small stars that flicker and float in the still air.

He wraps his arms around her possessively, holding her close as he tries to catch his breath. “That was… not normal,” he murmurs, a hint of wonder in his voice. The residual resonance tingles between them, crackling across their skin like tiny sparks.

“Far from it.” She laughs. The faint red and golden lights throughout the room twinkle softly before disappearing.

He presses a faint kiss to her forehead as he watches the lights around them fade.The end credits of the movie that was playing have long since rolled, the only light now being the sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds behind them and the faint warm heat of the resonance that has imbued both of their skins with something akin to a bioluminescence, a soft, barely-there glow. He holds her close, as if afraid she’ll disappear. “That was special,” he says quietly, his voice raw as he buries his head in her hair, breathing in slowly, trying to gather himself. “I’ve never… experienced anything like that before.”

“Me either,” she responds, leaning into his touch, moving so that she’s completely enveloped in him, the feeling of him still inside her only adding to the tenderness of it, the warmth as they both glow together.

“It means something right? That you were able to resonate with me like that?” “It did,” she says, nodding. She takes one of his hands into hers. “It means we have a connection. And that I trust you.” She squeezes his hand. “That I’m yours.” “...Mine?” His voice is soft, any posturing or false confidence completely gone. “Yours. Fully.” She says firmly. “Though… I don’t think I needed the resonance to happen to know that.”

His grip tightens around her before he catches himself, not wanting to squeeze her too hard. He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head, gently stroking patterns across her back as the rain continues to pour down outside. The glow between them eventually fades into darkness, but the warmth takes its time, bathing them in it for many moments longer. By the time the after-effects of the resonance are completely gone, the both of them are asleep, curled still in each other’s arms.

#cat writes ✩#l&ds sylus #lads fanfic #lads fluff #lads #sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lads smut #lads sylus #sylus smut #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #songfics

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sasheemo · 2 months ago

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Knock Knot

Pairing: Alpha!Agatha x Omega!Reader

Summary: In the height of your heat, you find yourself at the mercy of the one Alpha you could never resist.

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Smut, Knotting, Breeding Kink, Porn Without Plot, First Omegaverse Attempt

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: Well ngl, this is a twist I didn’t see coming. Up until two weeks ago, I never would’ve imagined myself writing Omegaverse smut, but apparently, the universe (aka all the lovely humans that voted in the poll) had other plans. So, here I am, delivering what you asked for!

This is my first attempt at the genre, so I’d love to hear your thoughts! Be nice, though—or don’t, I can take it. If this goes over well, who knows? I might just write more. Enjoy! 💜

MASTERLIST

Read on AO3

You had underestimated your heat.

You should have known better. This isn’t your first time, but it’s unlike anything you’ve ever endured. The faint hum in your belly started four days ago, a subtle, manageable thrum—or so you thought.

By the second day, the ache became unbearable. The suppressants you decided to rely on seem to be useless, failing to dull the relentless fire spreading through your core. Your scent has saturated your home, thick and cloying, clinging to every surface. No amount of pacing or distraction able to smother the inferno roaring inside you.

You’ve done everything to stay hidden—locked every door, shut every window tight, and isolated yourself in the living room, far from prying eyes. But the ache isn’t a dull pulse anymore. It’s a living, breathing thing, clawing at you with every passing moment. It’s not just release your body craves. It’s an Alpha.

And not just any Alpha.

The thought alone sends a fresh wave of heat rolling through you. Her scent haunts your senses, rich and spiced, lingering even in memory. Agatha Harkness isn’t just commanding, she’s overwhelming, the kind of Alpha who can ruin you with a single glance. You’ve crossed paths at coven meetings and social gatherings, but you’ve always avoided her sharp, knowing eyes.

She has a way of looking at you that makes you feel stripped bare, vulnerable. And you hate her for it. You hate how small she makes you feel. But now, with your body betraying you, she’s all you can think about.

The knock comes softly at first, almost hesitant, but it slices through the quiet house like a thunderclap. You stop mid-step, your frantic pacing halted as the sound reverberates through the air. Your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out the oppressive silence that had been your only companion for days.

Another knock follows, firmer this time. “Open the door.” a voice calls, equally smooth and firm, its authority impossible to ignore.

Agatha.

Your breath catches, panic blooming in your chest as her scent seeps through the door, heady and intoxicating even from outside. You press your back against the wall, trying to ground yourself, but it’s no use.

“I know you’re in there, Omega.” she calls again, her tone silk-wrapped steel. “Don’t make me break this door down.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, your hands trembling as instinct overpowers logic. Before you can stop yourself, you’re gripping the handle, the cool metal slick under your palm. The door creaks open, and there she is.

Agatha stands in the doorway, her icy blue eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. Her presence fills the space instantly, her scent flooding your senses with an unbearable intensity. Her lips curl into an alluring smile, dark and confident.

“Did you really think you could hide from me?” she asks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You step back instinctively, your pulse hammering in your chest.

“I… I didn’t—” The words stick in your throat, faltering under the weight of her gaze.

��You didn’t what?” she cuts in, kicking the door shut behind her with a resounding thud. “Didn’t think I’d notice?” Her eyes rake over you, lingering on your flushed cheeks and trembling thighs. “Your scent’s been calling to me for hours, Omega. I could smell you from down the street.”

Your knees wobble, heat pooling low in your belly as her words sink in. “You shouldn’t be here…” you say, though your voice holds no conviction.

Her smirk widens as she takes another step forward, deliberate and unhurried.

“Oh, but I should.” she murmurs, her tone laced with amusement. “Look at you. You’re drowning in your own heat. Did you really think you could handle this on your own?”

“I just—I didn’t think you would—” you stammer shaking your head, retreating another step as her scent wraps around you like a vice.

“But I do.” she interjects, tilting her head slightly as she studies you. Her eyes gleam with something dark, something that makes your stomach twist in knots. “I’ve been waiting for this. And now, you’re mine to handle.”

You swallow hard, panic and desperation clawing at your chest. “I don’t… Agatha, I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” she cuts in once again, the sound of her steps making your heart stutter as she closes the distance between you. “Admit you need me? Tell me, little Omega, should I leave?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. The truth feels uncomfortable, but so does the thought of her walking away.

“That’s what I thought.” she says, her smirk sharpening as she her presence presses against you, her scent overwhelming, and you stumble backward.

Your thighs hit the edge of the couch, and the sudden shift in balance forces you to sink onto the cushions, your hands instinctively clutching the armrest to steady yourself. The air between you thickens as Agatha steps closer, her legs brushing against yours.

Her gaze sweeps over you, dark and assessing, the weight of it alone making your breath hitch. Slowly, she leans in, saturating every corner of your awareness. Her hand rises to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing the curve of your jaw with an almost maddening slowness.

“You’re such a mess, Omega.” she murmurs, her voice low and rough, just above a whisper. Her fingers trace the line of your jaw, trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck. “So soft. So warm. Just sitting here, waiting for me to make it better.”

Your breath stutters as her other hand settles firmly on your thigh, her grip possessive. Her thumb starts to draw slow, soothing circles, the sensation igniting a fresh wave of heat low in your belly. You whimper despite yourself, and her lips curl into a satisfied grin.

She leans closer, her nose brushing against your temple, then lower, tracing the line of your cheek as her fingers tighten their hold.

“This is where you belong.” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. “Right here. Under me.”

Your thighs tremble beneath her touch, your body betraying you completely as her knee presses between your legs with unrelenting firmness, urging them wider, allowing her to take her rightful place between them.

Her closeness makes your instincts take over, and your head tilts back, exposing the delicate, vulnerable curve of your throat to her predatory gaze.

She doesn’t waste the invitation. Her teeth graze your earlobe first, then drag lower, scraping against your pulse point as you shudder. Her grip tightens on your thigh, grounding you, holding you exactly where she wants you. When her lips finally press against the curve of your neck, the sensation sends a jolt through you, your gasp echoing softly in the still air.

“Fuck, you smell divine.” she murmurs against your skin, her voice tinged with reverence. Her tongue flicks out, tasting the salty sheen of sweat on your skin, and you whimper, the sound breaking into soft, frustrated whines that only seem to spur her on.

“Say it.” she commands, her voice firm, dripping with authority. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches as both her hands come to rest on your hips, her grip firm and unrelenting, sending a clear message that resistance is not an option.

“I can’t do this alone, Agatha…” you gasp, your voice cracking as your head falls back against the couch.

Her eyes roam over your features, their intensity pinning you in place.

“That’s not enough.” she scoffs, her fingers digging into your hips with a possessive pressure that makes your breath hitch. “If you want me, Omega, you’re going to have to beg like you mean it.”

Shame flares hot in your cheeks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the smoldering heat coiling deep within you. Your body trembles as the words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered.

“Please, Agatha, fill me.” you gasp, your voice cracking as your hips shift against her grip, desperate for relief. “I need you to fuck me until I can’t think, until I can’t even stand.”

Her smirk falters, her pupils dilating as she leans in closer, her breath hot against your lips.

“Keep going.” she murmurs, her voice rough and dripping with hunger. “Let me hear how desperate you really are.”

Your body arches into her as the heat claws at your senses.

“I want you to knot me so hard I feel it for days.” you sob, your hands clutching at her shirt as the words rush out of you, like a river surging past its banks, drowning everything in its path. “I want to feel every inch of you, every thrust. I want you to fill me so completely it drips out of me every time I move.”

Her growl comes immediately, vibrating deep in her chest as her lips skim along your jaw, hot and possessive. One hand slides lower, her touch purposeful, searing.

“Fuck, Omega.” she hisses. “You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You don’t stop. You can’t stop. Her words fuel you, each one stoking the fire in your core, her need blending seamlessly with your own, leaving no room for restraint.

“Please, breed me.” you plead, your voice trembling as tears begin to blur your vision. “I want you to keep going until I’m so full of you I can’t take it anymore.”

Her grip on your hips tightens instantly at your words, her nails carving crescent marks into your skin as her chest rises and falls in ragged, heaving breaths.

“You want me to breed you?” she snarls, her voice low and feral. “You want everyone to know that pretty cunt of yours belongs to me? That you belong to me?”

“Yes!” you cry, your gaze locking onto hers with unflinching intensity. Desire blazes in your eyes, bold and shameless now, challenging her to claim everything you’re offering. “I’ll take everything, Agatha. All of you. I’ll be yours.”

The last shred of her control snaps.

“Prove it to me, Omega. Every. Last. Word.” she growls against your lips, her voice shaking with the weight of her need.

You don’t even have time to process her words before her lips crash against yours, fierce and unyielding. Her tongue claims yours immediately, delving deep as if she’s devouring every ounce of your desperation. The kiss is all hunger and possession, leaving no room for gentleness. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her teeth graze your lower lip before sinking in just enough to draw a sharp gasp from you. The sting sends a shiver racing down your spine, your breath hitching as her hands begin to roam your body with deliberate intent. One slips beneath your top, her fingers brushing against heated skin as she drags the fabric upward.

“Arms up.” she commands, her voice velvety, demanding obedience without question.

You obey instinctively, trembling as she pulls the fabric over your head and tosses it aside without a second thought.

Her eyes take on an even deeper shade as they sweep over your exposed skin, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your breasts. Her lips part slightly, her tongue darting out to wet them as if savoring the sight, and the way her gaze tracks your every breath makes your chest heave even harder under her scrutiny.

“You’re just… perfect.” she murmurs, her voice a hushed reverence laced with hunger.

One hand ghosts over your skin before pinching a sensitive nipple between her fingers, catching you off guard with the sharp jolt of sensation. The other trails downward with intent, her fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants as a wicked smirk tugs at her lips.

“Agatha” you whimper, your voice trembling as your hands pull more insistently at the fabric of her shirt. “Please, I—”

The words die in your throat as her hand slips lower, cupping you through the damp fabric of your underwear. The pressure makes you cry out, your hips bucking against her palm.

“Look at you…” she murmurs, her voice thick with smug satisfaction, the edge of mockery sharpening her words as her fingers press harder, the friction sending sparks through your body. “So wet, so needy… you’ve been aching for this for days, haven’t you?”

You nod frantically, your teeth sinking into your trembling lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle the lustful sounds spilling from your throat. Your eyes are glassy with unspoken pleas, the sheer effort to contain yourself only makes your surrender all the more obvious.

She chuckles darkly, her lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone.

“Poor little Omega.” she murmurs against your skin, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. “But I’m here now, and you’re finally going to get what you need.”

Her hands move quickly, tugging your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare beneath her. The cool air against your heated skin makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of her gaze as she takes you in.

“You have no idea what you do to me…” she says softly, her voice filled with quiet awe as her hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart.

A loud moan tears from your lips, your cheeks burning as her fingers trail boldly against your slick heat, exploring your folds with an almost cruel precision, testing and teasing until your breath comes in shallow, broken pants.

“Gods” she groans, her voice rough and strained as she pushes two fingers inside you. The stretch pulls a sharp gasp from your lips, the burn of it melting into a rush of pleasure that has your thighs trembling. Your body clenches around her instinctively, and the sound she makes is a primal, dangerous growl.

She sets a slow, unrelenting rhythm, each thrust dragging a broken moan from your throat as pressure builds deep in your core.

“Your body’s screaming for me to fill you.” she whispers, her words dripping with anticipation, almost lost in thought, as if she’s speaking more to herself than to you. There’s a raw wonder in her eyes as her fingers curl deeper, savoring the way your walls tighten around her, imagining how much more you’ll give her.

“F-fuck, Agatha! Please, please I can’t take it anymore!” you cry, your hips bucking against her hand.

Agatha doesn’t waste another second. She pulls her fingers away suddenly, leaving you whining and gasping for relief. With feral growl, she grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, dragging your hips to the very edge of the couch. Her strength leaves you breathless, the suddenness of her movements forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You’re going to take every inch of me.” she snarls, her voice rough and dripping with authority. “Every inch, every thrust, until you can’t think about anything but how good it feels to be mine.”

Her words make you shudder, your head tipping back as your eyes flutter shut, her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs with a bruising grip that promises vivid reminders on your skin for days to come.

“Look at me.” she orders, her grip tightening further as if daring you to disobey.

Your eyes snap open, meeting hers, dark and wild with need. It doesn’t look like she’s going to let you get away with anything less than complete submission.

“That’s better.” she growls, her voice edged with control as her lips curl into predatory grin. “Now, keep your eyes on me while I ruin you.”

She doesn’t bother undressing fully, her movements urgent and almost frantic as her fingers fumble with the clasp of her pants. She impatiently tugs them down just enough to free herself, the fabric pooling loosely around her hips. The sheer tension in her body is palpable, every motion speaking to a need barely held in check.

The sight of her hard cock steals the air from your lungs. Thick and flushed, a bead of precum glistens at the tip, catching the dim light as she wraps a firm hand around herself, stroking once to spread the slickness.

The way she towers over you, every part of her commanding and unapologetically Alpha, leaves you trembling in anticipation.

“Spread those legs wider.” she orders, her tone resolute, demanding. “I want to see all of you. Don’t you dare hide from me.”

You obey, trembling as her tip brushes against your entrance, teasingly sliding through the slickness that coats you. Her cock glides up and down your folds, unhurried, pausing just long enough to make you ache for more. She taps it lightly against your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, before sliding lower, the head pressing briefly against your entrance only to retreat again, trailing back up with maddening slowness.

The deliberate rhythm has you squirming beneath her, every teasing stroke sending shivers through your body. Her cock catches on every ridge, every sensitive spot, heightening the unbearable tension with each pass.

When she finally aligns herself, her tip presses firmly, and with one slow, unyielding push, she begins to sink in, the stretch immediate and all-consuming, setting every nerve in your body alight.

“Fuck” she groans, her voice thick as her hips roll forward, driving herself deeper. “So warm… so fucking tight. You were made for this, made for me.”

You cry out, your nails digging into the couch cushions as she fills you completely, the heat overwhelming as your body struggles to accommodate her.

“That’s it.” she growls, her hands sliding up to grip your hips. “Take all of it. I want you to feel how deep I am, how fucking good it feels to be full of me.”

She picks up her pace, and the sound of her hips colliding with yours echoes through the room, harsh and rhythmic, mingling with the wet, obscene noises that accompany every thrust.

“You hear that?” she asks, her voice dripping with satisfaction as her nails bite into your skin. “That sound—that’s what it means to belong to me.”

“Ag—oh, fuck!” you whimper, your voice cracking as your head falls back, your body trembling under her assault.

“Say it!” she snaps, her teeth grazing your jaw before biting down hard enough to make you gasp. “Say my fucking name.”

“Agatha!” you cry, your voice pitching higher as her hips drive forward with a ferocity that leaves you gasping for air. Each thrust buries her deeper, the growing swell of her knot pressing insistently against your entrance, stretching you further with every punishing movement.

The sheer intensity of it sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs, the undeniable slickness amplifying the pleasure that teeters dangerously on the edge of unbearable.

“Scream it louder, Omega! I want the whole fucking street to hear who owns you.” she growls, her voice a low rumble as her lips find your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

You sob her name, your nails clawing at her back as she shifts her angle, the new position sending a jolt of pleasure so intense that stars dance behind your eyes.

“You’re taking me so well, like you were made for my cock. Like you were made to be mine.” she groans, her thrusts becoming messier, rougher. Her hips slam into yours mercilessly as her hands slide to the back of your knees, pinning you in place.

“I’m yours, Agatha. Only yours.” you cry, your body arching into hers, chasing the heat that coils tighter and tighter in your core.

Her left hand slides between your bodies, her fingers finding the most sensitive part of you as she circles it with brutal precision. The wet slap of skin against skin grows louder, the sound mixing with your cries and her deep, guttural groans.

The added pressure on your throbbing clit sends a jolt through your entire body, making your walls flutter and clench around her cock. Her rhythm starts to falter, thrusts turning erratic as her groans deepen into primal, animalistic grunts, vibrating against your neck as her need consumes her.

The knot at her base swells even more, pressing insistently at your entrance, stretching you impossibly wide. The sensation is overwhelming, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain, and you can’t take it anymore.

Your voice, breathless and desperate, breaks through her haze, each word drenched in urgency.

“Oh fuck, yes! Give it to me, Agatha.” you plead, your hands clutching at her shoulders as your gaze locks onto hers, unflinching and shameless. “I need you to fill me up, please.”

The words obliterate the last fragile threads of her restraint. Agatha’s body seizes above you, her hips snapping forward in one final, devastating thrust that buries her completely inside you.

The knot locks into place, stretching you to your limit as she comes with a deep, feral growl. Her cock pulses inside you, thick and hot, each wave of her release filling you so completely it feels like it could spill over.

And the sudden fullness, combined with the steady friction on your clit, triggers something deep inside you. The sensation is intoxicating, unbearable in its intensity, and it sends your body spiraling out of control. You cry out as your climax washes over you, violent and unrestrained, your walls squeezing around her, greedily milking her until there’s nothing left to give.

“Fuck!” Agatha snarls, her voice shaking as your body reacts to her. Her hands grip your waist tightly, her fingers digging into your skin as she rides out the intensity of her own release, her hips jerking involuntarily with each pulse. “That’s it. That’s my good Omega.”

Your hips roll instinctively against hers, desperate to take everything she’s giving you. Her cock, her knot, her cum, her words, her growls—it’s all so overwhelming, you feel like you might pass out from the sheer intensity of it.

“You feel that?” she murmurs against your ear, her voice weak and wrecked, yet still dripping with dominance. “That’s me, filling you. Breeding you. And you’re taking it so perfectly.

Her words push you even higher. Your moans break into breathless cries, and your vision blurs, a single tear slipping down your cheek as the overwhelming sensation consumes you entirely, leaving you trembling and undone beneath her.

Agatha keens softly, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as her body finally stills.

“You’re mine.” she whispers, her voice gentler now as her knot remains locked inside you, keeping her warmth exactly where it belongs.

The aftershocks ripple through you both, your body still clenching around her knot as you collapse back against the couch. Her hands roam over your thighs, soothing and grounding, as her lips press a lingering kiss to your temple.

You remain still for a few minutes, basking in the lingering haze of passion as the intensity of the moment refuses to fade. Agatha’s knot starts to soften, each slow shift of her hips pulling a satisfied whine from her lips as she moves, her careful withdrawal drawing a wince from you at the residual stretch.

The slick, wet sensation of her release slipping free leaves you shivering, a warm gush spilling from your core and pooling beneath you in a sinful mess.

Agatha leans back slightly, her gaze sharp and intense as she takes in the sight of you—completely wrecked, your chest heaving, your skin flushed, and her cum dripping from you. A satisfied smirk curls her lips, and she reaches out, her fingers dragging lazily through the mess she’s made.

“Look at you.” she murmurs, her voice rough with satisfaction. “So pretty. So fucking full.”

You flinch at the overstimulation, your body twitching under her touch, but you’re too spent to move away. Despite yourself, your thighs clench involuntarily, a traitorous reaction that doesn’t escape her notice. She chuckles darkly, an indulgent sound dripping with pride, as if savoring the proof of how thoroughly she’s unraveled you.

Her fingers glide higher, smearing the evidence of her claim over your inner thighs. Her half-lidded eyes lock onto yours, and the insatiable lust simmering just beneath the surface makes your throat go dry.

“That’s mine, Omega.” she murmurs, her voice low and reverent, each word rolling over you like a caress. “Every single drop.”

Her hand lingers, tracing the sticky trail she’s left behind, and she leans down, her lips brushing a firm kiss to the curve of your hip.

“Could watch you like this all night.” she purrs, her tone dripping with admiration. “My perfect, ruined little Omega.”

A soft, pleading sound escapes your throat as your hand snakes down to grip her wrist. The longing in your gaze is undeniable, your swollen lips parting as if to say something, but no words come. Instead, you tug her toward you with surprising force, crashing your lips against hers in a kiss that’s nothing short of a necessity. It’s gentle, yet fervent, your teeth grazing her bottom lip as your nails dig into her skin.

For a moment, Agatha freezes, her surprise palpable. Then, as if spurred by instinct, she returns the kiss with equal fervor, her tongue sweeping past your lips to claim you all over again.

Her hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, angling you deeper into the kiss as she presses her body closer, her dominance bleeding through even in her response.

When she finally pulls back, her mouth remains slightly parted, her breath coming in shallow, uneven draws as she gazes down at you. Her eyes glint with wicked promise, and her lips glisten with the remnants of your kiss.

“Rest now.” she mutters, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, yet still carrying the weight of her authority. “You’ll need your strength… I’m nowhere near done with you.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x y/n #agatha x you #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha all along fanfic #aaa #aaa fanfic #agatha coven of chaos #agatha harkness fanfic #alpha agatha harkness #omegaverse

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acid-ixx · 2 months ago

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the jason hurt/comfort scene in chapter five is quite literally the longest scene i could possibly write. and yet it's the one that hurts me the most, i'm quite literally crying over a fictional character i'm writing about, what the hell 😭... it's literally questionable comfort (do you want to be comforted? why is jason trying to help you just now? why are you so weak, melting against his body as if you never told yourself you'll never fall for their trap again? why does jason refuse to let you go?), so many conflicting feelings and so many song references.

i'm not kidding when i'm telling everybody that i am getting all emotional over what i'm writing, probably because i feel the most connected to jason and harbor favoritism towards him but you guys have to bear with me because he's quite literally the most similar to the reader in regards to just wishing bruce loved them both enough. it's just two children chasing after a father's love, and it being reciprocated in different ways. bruce loved the other more than you, you're bonding over the trauma you both faced in different moments.

and just when jason thinks your relationship with each other would improve from now on, just as he promises to be your sole protector, you've long since let him go and prepare yourself to run away from gotham.

... it's making me feral, i'm so glad to contribute to the platonic yandere trope because family angst is NOT PORTRAYED AS MUCH!!!

my heart is exploding, i am not overreacting, why am i so attached to this series ngl HAHAHA. idk when i will post chapter 5, but there's so many yummy moments, so many characters i'm writing about that i'm contemplating on cutting it into two different parts and releasing it at the same time for i fear the word limit and my phone glitching at the amount of words. anyways, i hope u guys enjoy this ramble, i am foreshadowing the amount of hurt i've felt writing. this series became a big passion of mine and i hope u all get attached to jason as much i am.

#🍨... yael's talking #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere dc comics #yandere jason todd #platonic yandere #yandere angst #yandere #yandere fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Can I have blue beetle headcanons of Jaime's lover who is adored by Khaji Da and maybe the scarab tends to always encourage Jaime to stay by his lover's side at all times?

It took a bit for Khaji-Da to warm up to you, but during this time the scarab would become a silent spectator to your relationship with their host. Khaji-Da bore witness to the sweetest moments of your relationship where you both unabashedly showered the other in an abundance of love and support in the others ambitions, dreams and aspirations; wholeheartedly believing in the others capabilities to do anything and everything.

However the one that stuck out to the scarab came down to the time you found out about Jaime was Blue Beetle at possibly the worst way. It was during his hardest fight to date against a strong villain that seemingly had him down for the count with how unnerving it was to see an unmoving Jaime. So much so that you disregarded your current circumstances to call out to your boyfriend, hanging onto hope that you could give him the strength to send this villain packing.

‘Come on Jaime, you need to get up! I want you to get up so I know you’re okay because I don’t want to continue this life without you! You’re the strongest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know. You’ve persisted through so much whereas anybody else would’ve given up and I’m not allowing you to give up now! Not when you’ve come so far! And you, Scarab, if you can hear me, I don’t want you giving up either! You both have got what it takes to win this fight! Now I want both of you to get back up and fight until that bastard doesn’t have the strength to stand back up!’ Your cries were enough to urge both Jaime and Khaji-Da to get back up and finish the fight; emerging victorious.

Khaji-Da: you heard your lover, Jaime Reyes.

Jaime: I heard them, now let’s go kick some ass.

Ever since then Khaji-Da had grown fond of you and Jaime couldn’t help but find it hilarious with how you had a sentient scarab, whom that wanted nothing more then to stay within close proximity of you at all times. Not that Jaime was complaining, he’d love being by your side constantly but has found himself being the one to tell you everything Khaji-Da is saying to him within his head.

Ngl he kinda felt like he was the odd man out but with a few of your special kisses and cuddles, that was all soon well and truly forgotten about.

Jaime: why do you want me near them all of the time, they’re safe and sound. We got rid of that villain weeks ago, so what’s your deal?

Khaji-Da: you should stay by your lover for as long as you can Jaime, for despite the danger having been subdued and peace resorted, I still wish for you to enjoy the simplicity of your courtship. They’re good for you.

Jaime muttering to himself* did I just get a blessing from a scarab to continue dating my partner?

Again Jaime wasn’t one to complain about spending more time with you, if anything the moment Khaji-Da suggests that he spend the day with you, Jaime was already two steps ahead and was already bolted down to your house before Khaji-Da could finish speaking.

Khaki-Da is also very protective over you, so that whenever the Scarab thought you were in danger, they’d take over from Jaime and get in between you and whatever Khaji-Da thought posed a threat to you. Jaime is embarrassed, like extremely so but you couldn’t help but find it funny with how quick Khaji-Da was to go on the offence when an innocent puppy came up to sniff you.

Jaime: I am so fucking sorry, that was all Khaji-Da, not me.

Khaki-Da: and I’d do it again. The puppy was encroaching on our territory.

Jaime: IT WAS A PUPPY-

Needless to say not only do you have the most perfect boyfriend but also an overprotective sentient scarab that will not leave you alone. They’re a package deal. You want the cute boy, you also get the scarab attached to his back for free. Literally.

#dc x reader #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics #dc imagine #blue beetle x you #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle imagines #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle fic #blue beetle fanfic #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes imagines #jaime reyes fanfiction #jaime reyes fic #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes imagine

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monayen · 3 months ago

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Psst..

*gives you a letter and runs away*

It says: Can you please write a fic where the (fem) reader is in heat and Nyen helps her out? Luther was supposed to help but he's not around (he's out of the house with Randal, Sebastian and Nyon)and that left the reader no choice. Also she's very desperate and really loud during it :>

Needy | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - animal heats, degradation, biting, dirty talk, teasing, unsafe sex, fingering, light scratching, begging / crying

a/n - ngl this one is realll dirty. lots of dirty talk and degradation that nyen definitely wouldn't say directly but this is my horndog blog and i do wat i want. i also am not that knowledgeable on "heats" but just take it as reader being incredibly horny. is that accurate to an animal heat? whatever! also someone put a gůn to my head and make me fix my masterlist page thanks enjoy

Your body feels like it’s on fire, skin hot and flushed as your heat takes hold. You pace restlessly around the room, your mind consumed with a primal need that coursed through your veins.

Normally, Luther would be there to help you through these episodes, soft and caring as he held you. But your heat came on sudden today, just when he was out with Randal, Sebastian, and Nyon. It would take hours for him to return, and with how your body ached, you weren't sure how much longer you could handle this feeling anymore.

Your lips were red and sore from biting back the moans that piled up in your throat. Every movement feeling like a rush of adrenaline that has your heart beating out your chest.

With your senses growing increasingly sensitive, you decided to strip to your underwear, the heat unbearable. It isn't anywhere near enough relief, but at least the rub of fabric doesn't feel as suffocating anymore.

You groan, now laying on your bed as your breathing scattered more and more.

Shaky hands trail your bare torso, skin sticky with sweat. You immediately trembled, a hand moving against the fabric on your crotch. A loud moan escapes before you get the chance to bite it back, your fingers needily rubbing for any type of stimulation.

It wasn't enough, nowhere near enough.

Whines spill from your mouth, eyes shut as you hump against your own shaky hands. You need something, someone now.

“Can you shut up? You're so fucking loud.”

A deep voice pulls you from your horny trance, eyes shooting open as you realize who's standing at the edge of your bed.

Nyen looms, his scowl sharp as his gaze lingers on your flushed figure, unmistakably eyeing you. Another wave of adrenaline floods your system, your heart pounding in your chest as your hands refuse to move from your aching heat.

You look up at him with big, needy eyes, “S-sorry, my heat– I just–”

He cuts you off, head cocking to the side as he makes a face, “I can smell you too. You really can't control yourself?” His eyes rake over your sweat-slicked body, taking in how your fingers continue to graze the fabric of your underwear. A low growl rumbles in his chest as he steps closer to the bed.

"Fuck, you reek of desperation," he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain even as his pupils dilate. "Can't even wait for master to come back and take care of you properly…”

You can't help but continue to whine, his words making your stomach twist as you rub for more stimulation, “Please,” You cry, cheeks flushed as you watch him put a knee on the bed, it sinking with the added weight.

He reaches out, roughly grabbing your wrist and yanking your hand away from your clothed crotch. Nyen brings your fingers to his face, inhaling deeply as he rolls his tongue over them. "Mmm, you're dripping.” He shoves your hand back, but still doesn't let you move your hands down to resume rubbing.

Nyen hovers over you, one hand fisting in the sheets beside your head as the other trails down your body, claws lightly scraping against your skin. "I could help you out, you know. Give you what you need so badly."

You arch helplessly, a needy whimper escaping your trembling lips, “Oh, p-please, please, help me! I can't– I can’t…” Your breathing jaggers, pathetically melting into his touch.

He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, "You're so fucking pathetic, begging like a whore.”

Nyen's other hand continues its torturously slow path down your body, his touch leaving tingling trails of heat in its wake. He hooks a finger under the damp fabric of your underwear, tugging it aside to expose your aching, dripping core.

"Look at you, so wet and ready," he sneers, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit. "I bet you'd let anyone fuck you right now, wouldn't you? Desperate little slut."

You can only whine in response, mind foggy as he presses his heavy hand against your heat. He’s rough in his touch, much more than Luther. He isn't considering just how sensitive you are, instead choosing to immediately sink two fingers into your welcoming pussy just to watch you squirm.

“Nyen!” shaky moans keep spilling from you, each more desperate than the last. Nyen’s eyes darken, choppy bangs falling over his face as he leans in closer, sharp teeth grazing against the soft flesh on your shoulder.

He continues to set a brutal pace with his fingers, his free hand moving to roam over your sweaty skin, claws leaving red lines. He could feel how you shake beneath him, your body wound tight with tension. He takes in the sweet energy smell of your arousal, thick and heady in the air, making his own cock twitch in interest. The catman has never seen someone so needy before–hell, not even his own heats get him like this.

Pulling back, Nyen admires his handiwork–your face was beat red, lips parting as panting huffs escape. Your eyes were glazed with desire, pleading with him to bring you to come. It was a pathetic look on you, and he wonders just how sir handles you when you're like this.

"Fuck, you're such a mess," he growls, fingers pulling from your soaked cunt. "Not yet.”

He leans down, tongue swiping over your collarbone before biting down hard enough to leave a mark. You cry out, begging for his fingers to push back inside, your pussy clenching around nothing in desperation.

He moves to strip off his dark shirt, revealing his toned chest and arms. There's a sheen of sweat on his skin, making the hair there glisten in the dim light. His cock strains against his pants, the outline clearly visible and throbbing. You stare shamelessly, mind too far gone to even hold back the pure horny look on your lidded eyes.

Leaning forward again, his hands grip your thighs as he pushes them further apart as he settles between them. The head of his clothed cock prods at your entrance, smearing your arousal around.

You're practically drooling for it, hips bucking up in an attempt to create more friction. A wet spot forms quickly, a mix of your own juices and his.

Nyen lets out a jagged breath, pulling back and quickly shucking off his pants to free his throbbing cock. It springs up, hard and heavy, the thick shaft covered in veins. The head is an angry red, already dripping with precum. He takes hold of the base and smacks the length of it against your cunt, making you gasp and writhe.

“You want it?” Nyen growls, grinding against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up, trying to take him inside, but he holds back, denying you what you so desperately crave.

"Please, Nyen," you whimper, your voice high and needy. "I can't take it anymore.”

His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open and exposed for him. The head of his cock catches on your clit with each hump, slickness coating his length. He's relishing in the teasing, but his own cock aches to sink right in, to feel you clench around him.

"Nyen," you plead again, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

Nyen just smirks, fisting his cock and giving it a few slow pumps. "You think you can take it, slut?”

You nod eagerly, reaching down to spread yourself open in offering. "Yes... Please... I want it... Want you..."

Growling, Nyen lines himself up, the broad head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance. With one sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching you wide around his thick shaft.

You gasp at the sudden stretch, walls clenching tight around the thick intrusion. It feels much bigger than you expected, his thick length giving a splitting sensation. It’s almost too much, the burn of the stretch mixing with the intense pleasure of finally being fucked.

The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mixing with your loud moans of pleasure. You hold on, nails scrabbling at Nyen's chest as he pumps roughly into you.

"Shit," Nyen snarls, relishing in your warm walls. "How are you so f-fucking tight–”

A little drool drips from the corner of your clenched mouth, mixing with the tears of pleasure that roll down your flushed face. The intensity of your heat makes everything feel ten times more intense, and all you can think about is needing more.

Your head feels light, your vision swimming, but you manage to keep it upright, barely able to focus on Nyen’s figure above you. With a surge of effort, you sit up, your hand finding the back of his head as you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.

You half-expected him to pull away, to say something cruel and push you back down beneath him. But instead, he responds, his teeth grazing your lips as he leans in closer, deepening the kiss.

The flavor of smoke and beer lingers, mixing with the sweetness of your saliva. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you flush against him.

The kiss was hungry and desperate – mostly on your part. Enough that you practically cry when Nyen breaks the kiss to look at you.

Your face is flushed, lips swollen and parted as you pant for air. Your hair is a wild mess, sticking to your sweat-slicked skin. But it's your eyes that draw his attention – glazed over with desire, the irises on your hazy eyes nearly swallowed by blown out pupils.

Your moans echo off the walls, your body shaking beneath his harsh grasp on your hips. You're so close, the pleasure in your abdomen swirling and building until you feel like you're gonna pass out.

"Nyen," you gasp, not being able to hold back anymore, "I'm close!”

Nyen grits his teeth, feeling his own orgasm forming tightly. He curses under his breath, a deep groan escaping him as he hurries his snaps against your hips.

"That's it," Nyen growls, his voice rough, "Fuck– come for me, slut.”

Your whole body tenses, your back arching off the bed as the orgasm crashes over you. You cry out, your voice breaking on a sob of pleasure as your walls spasm around him.

It's intense, almost too much to handle, but Nyen doesn't stop. He keeps fucking you through it, his cock hitting roughly inside you enough that you practically see stars.

Nyen throws his head back with a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he chases his own release. Your cunt doesn't relent, squeezing and twisting around him as he fucks through the orgasm.

Nyen collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He's panting, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath. He's just as– if not more– spent, heart pattering as both your skins mix with sweat and come.

After a moment, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping from your sensitive hole. You whimper at the loss, your pussy still twitching with aftershocks.

He rolls off you with a lazy exhale, a huff of breath escaping his lips as he somehow pulls a cigarette from nowhere and lights it. He inhales deeply, the smoke swirling around him before he blows it into the air.

Your body still trembles, heat pulsing through you, lingering deep inside. Your gaze shifts to Nyen–his bare, sculpted chest rising and falling with each breath, his long fingers holding the cigarette to his lips, his skin slick with a sheen of perspiration and something else. The sight makes you bite your lip, a new wave of heat rushing over you.

You sit up swiftly, a flushed smile spreading across your face as you shift to straddle Nyen’s hips.

His cigarette hangs from his mouth, brows furrowing as he questions just how you’re up so fast. You don't give him enough time to say anything though, eagerly beginning to grind against his slick crotch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hisses, already feeling himself hardening from your touch. A desperate whine escapes you, eyes shut as you settle on top of him. “M-my heat–” you pitch louder, “Again. Please– I need it.”

#ranfren #randals friends #nyen catman #nyen ranfren #nyen x reader #ranfren x reader #ranfren smut #cw heats

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rapturously · 1 year ago

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Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #tlb dwayne x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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lanadelnegan · 1 year ago

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hyperfeminine reader x negan? he goes to alexandria to take their supplies and reader is just walking around looking all pretty and he CANT resist.

ily 💕💕

ily more bby. xx

Pretty in Pink

S7 Negan x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, public sex (in front of Dwight.. like literally in the car while he's driving), Negan being overly caring and sweet with you, character death (negan kills your brother Spencer)

Note: this is dark and twisted ngl.

I watch Negan like a deer in headlights as he whispers into my brother's ear.

"It's because.. ya got no guts." The rest of us are silent as we watch Negan slash his knife through Spencer's stomach, revealing his insides. My stomach churns as I watch him fall to the ground.

Negan chuckles as he looks around, eyeing the crowd as if he's daring us to react.

"Oh, there they are! They were inside of you the whole time." He smirks down at Spencer's lifeless body before his dark eyes roam up, meeting mine.

I quickly look down, biting my lip and fighting back tears. My nails dig into my skin as I try to remain calm.

"Well hello, princess." He slowly approaches me. "Forgive me for the gruesome scene you just had to witness." His hand rests against his chest sympathetically as he stands in front of me now, at least a foot above me.

My fingers lace together in front of me as I continue looking down, digging my dirty white shoe into the gravel.

"I don't believe we've met, sweetheart... In fact, I know we haven't because I definitely would have noticed you, looking all pretty in this little pink skirt."

I look up at him innocently through my lashes. His head cocks to the side as he subtly leans back, noticing the tear slipping from my cheek.

"Shit, darlin'. I am so sorry. That wasn't your boyfriend I just ripped open, was it?" He motions towards Spencer.

I softly shake my head no, earing a grin from him as he tilts my chin upwards to meet his stare.

"He - he was my brother." I sniffle, feeling another tear slide from my cheek.

Negan's jaw ticks and his eyes shut painfully tight as his hand slowly retreats from my chin.

"Goddamn it... If I woulda known.." He shakes his head with disappointment, noticing everyone still standing around us. "Enjoying the fucking show, people?!" He gestures for everyone to clear out before turning his attention back to me.

Sighing loudly, he delicately picks me up in his arms, holding me like a baby. I allow him to carry me as I bury my face into his shirt, soaking it with my tears.

"Ssshhh, babyyy." He whispers against the top of my head as he walks us to his van.

"Dwight! Let's go, you're driving."

"Boss? The supplies.. we don't have them loaded yet." Simon interrupts.

"I'm sorry." Negan's voice vibrates through his chest and into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Does it look like I give two fucks about supplies right now?"

He doesn't wait for Simon to answer as he opens the passenger door, joining Dwight in the van while carefully maneuvering me in his lap. My legs face towards Dwight while the side of my body leans into Negan.

"Hey, sshhh. It's okay, baby. What's your name?" He rubs my back comfortingly.

"Y/n." I whisper, sniffing my runny nose.

"Y/n, you're gonna stay with me tonight so I can make sure you're okay. I truly am sorry about your brother."

I nod my head, leaning against him. This is the first physical affection I've had from anyone since our parents died. Although it's from a man I'm supposed to hate, I can't deny how nice it feels to be touched.

My brother and I drifted apart when our family found Alexandria and made it our own. He turned into someone I didn't recognize, all power-hungry and selfish.. and although he probably deserved to die, he was still my brother. I'll always love him.

I allow myself to snuggle into Negan, my face against his neck as I inhale his scent of leather and citrusy hair gel.

"Gonna make you forget all about that asshole brother of yours, darlin'." His large, veiny hand glides up my thigh until it settles just underneath the frills of my skirt. He rubs circles on my smooth skin with his thumb, comforting me sweetly.

The drive back to the sanctuary seems to last a decade and I watch the way Dwight zones out at the road in front of him, not paying attention to us.

My hand bravely drifts on top of Negan's and I slide his hand deeper underneath my skirt, watching it disappear completely. I know how wrong this is, but I can't help my attraction to him. I've watched him from the window of my room too many times to count, wondering what his lips feel like. Doodling his name next to little hearts in my diary. This is what I've wanted, even if it's under these circumstances.

Negan's eyes widen a little as he looks at me, surprised by my forwardness.

He glances at Dwight before looking back up at me, his heavy eyelids slightly covering his hazel eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I reach my finger up to graze over his puffy bottom lip in a "shush" motion before leaning in to kiss him. His body remains still as his lips part, letting my tongue slip past his. He groans softly and Dwight glances at us, bringing his eyebrows together.

"Eyes on the fucking road, Dwight." Negan says with our mouths still connected. I let my hands explore him, roaming them up his body and feeling his chest through his t-shirt.

His hard cock presses into my ass as I turn myself to face him, bringing one leg over until they're both hanging over each side of him and I'm straddling his lap. He grips my ass under my skirt as his head falls back slightly, waiting for my next move.

"Negan.."

"Yeah, baby?" His voice is low and raspy.

"Touch me."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he urges my back into the dashboard. My mouth gapes open when he pulls my panties to the side, revealing my pussy to him.

"Look at this pretty pink pussy, baby." He breathes out as his finger slides through my wet folds.

"So wet for daddy. Wish I could fucking take you right here."

I look at Dwight, who's trying his best to pretend we're not here, but the sudden sensation of Negan curling his finger inside me snaps my attention back to him.

"So do it, then." I urge him.

His eyebrows raise. "Ohh, sweetheart. So desperate for some cock." His hands find their way to my hips, tracing over them slowly as I lean back up.

"Just yours." I admit and he chuckles softly.

"Is that right, baby? You've thought about me before, huh? Touched yourself to the thought of my cock inside you."

I nod, letting my fingers run through his slicked back hair and I can't help but grind myself into him, desperate for some friction.

"Take it then. I'm not stoppin' you."

That's all the confirmation I need before reaching for his belt and unbuckling him until his pants are a few inches down his thighs.

My hand reaches in his boxers, pulling out his hardening cock. Negan watches my face as I tug on him a couple times, admiring the way he grows longer and thicker in my hand.

I don't waste any time hovering above him as he slides my panties to the side again, helping me me sink down onto him. I moan out at the fullness as my head slightly falls back.

"Thaaat's it, baby." He groans, digging his fingers into my hips while I bounce on him.

A pothole in the road causes the van to dip suddenly, and my hips collide with his completely, causing the tip of his cock to push violently against my cervix. I cry out loudly at the sharp pain, but continue riding him faster and deeper until tears fill my eyes.

His head rests against the back of the seat as he watches me ride him. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna be my wife, baby? I'll take such good care of you."

My eyes widen a little at the unexpected offer. "Uh, I - I dunno."

"That's alright, baby. I have all night to convince you. Don't think it'll take much, considering how desperate you were for my cock." He smiles up at me arrogantly.

My moans get faster and louder along with his. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

I nod as his finger finds my clit with ease, rubbing it just the right way to send me over the edge. He kisses me hard right when my pussy floods his dick, causing a wet spot on his black jeans.

"FUCK. Look at that." He dips his finger in my wetness before bringing it up to my mouth, making me taste myself. I moan around his finger, sucking gently.

"You ready for my cum, baby?"

I nod, wanting to taste him so badly. As if he heard my thoughts, he lifts me off of him until I'm on my knees in the floorboard between his legs.

I watch as he strokes himself a couple times, my eyes darting back and forth between the tip of his swollen dick to his handsome face. His head falls back while his lips part, letting out a deep groan before long ropes of warm cum splatter onto my face and tongue. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of him as I suck his tip dry.

"Goddamn baby. Look at the mess you made." He reaches for my face, wiping his load off my chin with his thumb and sliding it into my mouth. I moan around him again, loving his salty unique taste before climbing up into his lap and leaning my head against his chest.

I close my eyes to the sound of his rapid heartbeat and feeling of his gentle hand stroking my hair.

How can the same hands that ended my brother's life be so... gentle with me.

Dwight shuts the engine off, exiting the van awkwardly once we arrive. Neither of us move, but I smile softly when Negan fixes the white bow in my hair, pinning it back in place and causing my heart to front flip in my chest.

"Negan..." I whisper.

"Yeah, baby?"

"... I'll be your wife."

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lydscare · 3 months ago

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Xaden Riorson Fluff Alphabet

| warnings/notes: suggestive notes for kissing and I briefly mention sex to get a point across, the start kind sucks ngl, wc: 3k ;-;

a/n: sooo hi. i’m sorry i’ve been dead😭ihavenoesxcuses anyways, here are some xaden hcs because I finally finished iron flame (from summer shushh) and yes. i am publishing this at 11 at night. my sleeping schedule was always ruined from the start-

fluff alphabet is from @/snk-warriors

reader is written as gender neutral / masterlist

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

when Xaden has free time (either from being a wingleader or from helping run the rebellion) all of his breaks are spent with you

he doesn't do anything too special during these rare moments of peace and quiet with you. they’re special to him because he’s with you and that’s all he really needs

sometimes you two train, sometimes you two just sit and talk on the roof (whether that be at Basgaith or at Riorson House) about each other’s day and events that happened while the other wasn’t there

most days he’ll just trail you and silently stand with you as you go about completing some ordinary tasks. it offers him a certain comforting peace to see you go about your day in a less hectic and chaotic fashion then he’s used to

he also may just drag you to his room for cuddles <3

he’d be fine to do anything that you’d want to do with this spare time you two rarely get, but he really just wants to be able to be silently comforted by just you at the simple fact that you exist and are waiting for him when he comes back to you; his home

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

if we’re talking about physical beauty then it would be your hair (sorry if you’re bald 🫢)

whether it’s long or short, straight or curly; he loves it. he wasn’t kidding when he told Violet that all she needs to do to win an argument is let her hair down. just play with your hair a bit and you’ll FEEL his gaze instantly be drawn to the motion. he might even pause what he’s saying for a heartbeat before he promptly ignores his own reaction

but personality wise it’s probably your softness/patience with him. he knows that he can be frustrating to put up with but you still love him and are patient with him about opening up and he truly appreciates that more than you could know

he also enjoys that he can be vulnerable around you (hence the ‘softness’) he hasn’t been in a relationship like that before so it’s kinda odd for him but he likes it soo

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

he’s had his fair share of panic attacks probably, so he’d recognize the building signs and realize “oh shit. my beautiful s/o is freaking out.”

at first I think he wouldn’t be entirely sure what to do. sure he’s handled his fair share of panic attacks but he isn’t exactly sure how to help someone else who is having them, considering he just ✨deals with it✨ on his own

he ends up just touching you to help keep you grounded. he’d cup your face and lean your forehead against his, whispering to you reassuring words like “i’m here” and that “you’ll be okay. it’ll pass”

he’ll seat you on his lap and hold you, rubbing his knuckles against your back until eventually you manage to calm down and rest your head against his shoulder

he also does that thing where he tells you to count your breaths with him “breath in, breath out. breath in, breath out. see sweetheart, you’re doing great. just keep going, alright?”

overall physical touch is his way of comforting you during a panic attack

if you feel sad he will also at first have no idea how to help you, considering he’d probably mostly be the one to turn to you for comfort so he’s unsure how to go about providing the same thing for you

he’s trying his best tho, truly. he ends up just having you tell him what’s making you feel down and he’s sure to listen intently. he’s a great listener. he’ll kiss your forehead all while telling you that he’ll be here for you until you start feeling in better spirits

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Xaden doesn't tend to think too much about his future with you

he’s too concerned with making sure that you two survive to the next day so he doesn't really have enough time to think about it

although there are times when the possibilities of your future together starts to develop in his mind, but he doesn't allow himself to think too much about it

he’s kind of scared to have a too optimistic outlook on the future. he’s scared to give you two false hope

as long as your at his side by the end of the day he’ll be satisfied

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Overall Xaden would be the dominant one in the relationship

that isn’t to say that you don’t have moments of dominance as well (you have quite a few ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), you can be very persuasive) but Xaden does tend to take the lead overall

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

um…

Xaden is a very stubborn individual. he always tends to believe that he’s constantly in the right and that what he says goes

such as telling you that coming with him for a weapon drop off is too dangerous but you go with him anyway

he’ll mainly try to act grumpy about it but (for things that aren’t too big a deal) he’ll get over it in a few minutes

but if the argument is very explosive then he’ll probably distance himself, train and blow off some steam before he goes to you wanting to talk about the issue with you more

I think he would be overall pretty reasonable in an argument (except for special occasions when his stubbornness and temper get the best of him) but you need to be able to hold yourself against him. not that he’s your enemy is these instances, he’s just stubborn and you may need to repeat yourself a few times for your words to really sink in against his

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

he’s very much aware of what you do for him. he knows that being in a relationship with him can be so hard, but the fact that you love and stay with him despite that? he all the more loves and appreciates you for it (if that’s even possible)

he tends to sometimes see himself as a burden (romantically) to you, but he’s selfish and he’s not letting you go anytime soon. you’re the best thing that happened to him and he’ll be damned if he lets you leave him

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

👀👀

his red flag is pretty much keeping secrets from you.

not directly lying but refraining information (his words)

granted he wouldn’t hide information from you that you would die without but it is still annoying as fuck

due to you being the first relationship he’s been in that contains vulnerability and emotions, he doesn't know how to be transparently honest. he wants to try sharing things with you, but he has no idea how

teach him please. he probably hasn’t ever had a real loving relationship before so he’d going to stumble a lot in the process but he’ll keep trying

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

he becomes more honest and vulnerable with you

you teach him that having emotions beside anger doesn't make him weak

you help him be able to be more.. human

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

short answer: yes. Xaden gets jealous

but it can go one of two ways

1) he grits his teeth and bares the other person being more around you while he’s seething on the inside (with an occasional dig at them every now and then)

or 2) he goes all out. hands are constantly touching you. he puts his arm around your shoulder and just calmly is like “yeah, my s/o is fun to talk to” with an almost dangerously low voice

honestly he just needs a little reassurance from you that nothing’s going on and he’ll be fine. he trusts you 100% (he’d still be pissed at someone looking at you in any way like that tho)

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

needless to say, Xaden’s an amazing kisser

although he has experience, he and you both know that he’s never kissed someone with as much passion as he does with you. the high he gets off just by kissing you is only a fraction of what sex had given him before you

his kisses always tend to be heated. even his pecks which are usually hard and quick can leave your body gently humming

Xaden is very observant and after a few make out sessions with him he quickly figures out what you like and makes sure to use those techniques with you later on

he tends to use his tongue and use his teeth to pull on your bottom lip

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

i he’d be the type to confess his love to you either in a moment of passion or in an argument or after/before a near death experience in which you or he almost died (yes, this is wide variety but bear with me please-)

the scenario would play out like this: say that you decided that it would be okay to join him in a weapon run to the griffin riders. things escalate and you and Xaden end up getting attacked by venins and wyverns blah blah blah. eventually you two just narrowly escaped death again, and you thought nothing of it. but then Xaden turns to look at you with the most cold and angry look that you’ve ever seen. he starts raising his voice at you, asking you why you even snuck to go on the run without him knowing and how it was a reckless and stupid decision on your part. but you weren’t going to just stand there and let him insult you so easily so soon enough you both are practically shouting at each other about how you wanted to be there and that you’d do it again if you so choosed. and Xaden says that you’re not and you say you are, and eventually you just straight up ask him why he doesn't want you to go with him considering life threatening situations weren’t anything new to you, and he, built up with rage and fear from almost losing you again just says that is was because he loved you and he couldnt bare to think what would’ve happened to you if– and he just confessed to you, huh? you both get all quiet after that. it’s a bombshell moment for you two considering he never told you it before despite you two having been in a relationship for a while

(i’ll let you figure out how the aftermath goes ;))

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

at first marriage isn’t really on Xaden’s mind. he’s so busy just trying to keep you and him alive that he doesn’t really think too much about your guy’s future relationship. he’s just taking it one day at a time

but- they’ll come a certain instance where you two may be sitting alone on the roof of Riorson House or you laugh at your own really bad joke. and he’s just softly smiling while looking over at you. and he comes to the realization that this, you, are the person that he wants to spend the rest of his life with even in the hell that your lives have been. then marriage randomly pops into his mind and- no, no, no, no. he is NOT going to think about marriage right now. he low-key feels kinda guilty for thinking about it?? you two are in the middle of a damn war! people are dying and here he is thinking about marrying you like a lovesick boy? cue Xaden not being able to process his emotions so he finds excuses to keep a bit of distance between you two. eventually you ask him about it and he reassures you that it’s nothing. and while he’s back to being near you most of the time, he’s a bit.. different. less talkative. you’ve caught him a few times with this blank look on his face, seemingly staring off into space. and he seems a bit more distant physically too, more hesitant with his touch. eventually though (you two are probably all cuddled up in his bed) and he just asks you your opinion on marriage. and by the gods, it’s your first time ever seeing Xaden look nervous, REALLY NERVOUS, avoiding eye contact and everything- if you do (gods he hopes) say that you’re open to marriage he’s secretly ecstatic about it (you can’t tell tho) and it gives him another reason for him to give his all every day during this war

(if you’re not a fan of marriage and you voice that he’ll slowly die inside, but he’ll get over it)

he’ll find somewhere where they give away wedding rings and you pick the one that he thinks you’ll love the most and won’t bother wearing all the time. he wouldn’t hesitate to threaten the vendor if for some reason the ring wasn’t for sale.

he’ll just carry the ring wherever he goes, waiting for the right moment to propose to you

he wouldn’t really want a big party or wedding. but if you wanted one you two would make it a smaller one with just your friends and family

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

your nickname would probably have to do with your initial (the first letter of your name) and something that he enjoys about you (Violence for Violet, Flash for Fiona, Tiger for Tammy, etc.) I think you get the idea 😭

other than that he doesn’t use nicknames that much though

but petnames wise he’d call you sweetheart, darling, princess (in a more teasing/mocking way) and he MAY call you love but but it’s even more rare. he’d probably only use it on special occasions

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

i think people can just.. tell

like he doesn’t even need to say that you two are dating to know that there’s something between you two

the way his eyes will slightly soften when he looks at you. or how his eyes always stay focused on yours. or how if anyone disrespects you or doubts your words then he gets all defensive and snaps at the person

even if you two are in a situation where he isn’t going to be physically affectionate with you as much as he normally does, people just KNOW that your his and that they better not mess with you

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

it depends on where he is. that normally affects how affectionate he is with you

sometimes he acknowledges that there are moments that require him to be more professional and he’ll be careful not to be too affectionate with you in public (although he would sneak his hand on the small of your back or on your thigh if you two are sitting next to each other or manage to give your hand a light squeeze when he knew no one was looking.)

if he’s around people who hate him or you being physically affectionate- he will always keep a hand on you. on your waist, hip, shoulder, the small of your back or just simple hand holding

he likes touching you in public. he thinks it’s funny to see people be pissed off at his direct touches. but it’s you and that’s enough of a reason for him to enjoy touching you, in public or private. pissing people off in the process is just a little bonus to him. he basks in people’s anger at his shenanigans a bit too much but who are you to complain, really?

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

his shadows and title/reputation

due to his reputation, people are scared to question him, practically meaning that you could go wherever you wish. all you need to do is drop his name to a guard or general and their face seems to lightly pale and you’re free to do as you please

and in the rare state where he can’t be physically touching you he has his shadows comfort you in some way, although he’d prefer to do it himself

he also is practically your body guard so that’s a plus

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

this depends on your bias. although he himself is somewhere in the middle. while he tends to be truly romantic in private, he might do a romantic gesture in public every now and then like kiss you passionately (you one where he picks you up and spins you around before kissing you type-thing) but still a bit more rare

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Xaden would lean more towards being supportive, but also kind of not??

like… he cares about you and all and he believes that part of that is sort of bringing you back to reality kind of thing

he’s not the type to entertain goals for himself, especially if they seem to be sort of out of reach

it’s not that he’d say anything trying to hurt your feelings or that he doesn't see you as capable of achieving any high goals, but it can come off as him shutting you down sometimes

he’s kind of a pessimist at heart so 🤷

it’s worth noting that if your goals in life imply that your life would be in danger most of the time then you’re not going to get much support on that front :/ but he can’t stop you (you’re too badass)

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

thrills aren’t really needed in your relationship with Xaden

if anything, you and Xaden are looking for the opposite

a relationship with Xaden can be hard and stressful to maintain when you’re constantly surrounded by riders always trying to kill each other

a sense of normalcy and domesticity and some type of a hangout schedule is pretty much a need, not something sPicY

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

he isn’t empathetic right out of the gate

BUT i think that he would grow to understand his partner and would grow to be more empathetic through your relationship with him

like said before, you help him be able to connect with his emotions, even the sad ones and that helps him be able to be a more empathic person as a whole

when it comes to less emotional knowing and more so physical/material knowing he knows EVERYTHING about you

any little new bit of information that you drop about yourself he keeps tucked away in the back of his mind

and it isn’t like he’s memorizing it, it’s just so easy for him to remember everything about you

favorite foods, favorite color, the places and people that you like to go to

he doesn't just know what you like either, he also keeps track of what you hate as well, which can come in very handy

he can ready your body language very well, and always knows just by looking at you if he would need to come up with an excuse for you two to leave whatever the situation is

he’s really good at reading his partner

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

it may not always be obvious, but you are the most important thing in his life. he will drop everything and anything just to ensure your safety

he said that he’d let Basgiath burn to the ground for Violet soooo

pretty safe to say that you would be his priority

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

he ALWAYS is staring deep into your eyes. his eye contact is constant. even when your attention is directed to someone else and you’re not directly looking at him, he’s looking at you

if you ever rant to him about something he’s always staring into your eyes. he could do it for hours. sometimes his stare can be too much for you and you need to glance away as you try to prevent a flush from overcoming your cheeks

he knows that this stare gets you flustered, and he basks in seeing you squirm under his intent gaze

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

yes

he enjoys kisses and makeouts in public and private. it doesn’t matter too much to him. either way he gets to show you how much you mean to him. he prefers allowing his actions to speak for him instead of his words and boy does he deliver-

it would take him a bit longer to get used to cuddles though. the first time you just casually tried to cuddle him he was so stiff. he just didn’t exactly know what you wanted from him. after you explained that you just wanted to be near and close to him, entrapped in his warmth he suddenly really liked it??

you always end up sleeping in his room at the Riorson House. he tends to intertwine his legs with yours and his arms rest around your waist and he just holds you close to him, your back against his chest (often he won’t let you leave before him in the morning, saying in his morning voice “mm.. five more minutes.”)

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he kinda doesn’t

anytime he needs to be away from you (either in fourth wing as wingleader or in iron flame leading the rebellion) he makes sure to distract himself with with his duties because if he thinks too much about you he might just have Sgaeyl fly him back over to you

every time after he’s had to be separated from you for multiple days he always greets you with a hug and a kiss

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Xaden is willing to go all the way for you

he’s quite literally all “i’d LET THE WORLD BURN for you” type guy

he’s willing to try and better himself for you. he wants to be able to comfort you and love you on days where you maybe can’t love yourself. he wants to be a sword and shield for you. he’ll protect you and love you at all costs and even death won’t separate his heart and soul from you

sooo… yeah

#lydscare;#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson fanfic #fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #the empyrean series #fourth wing x reader #iron flame x reader #fourth wing imagine #iron flame imagine #xaden x reader #xaden riorson imagine #xaden riorson headcanons #I hope the right people see this-#I spent too long on this fr fr 😭#like Xaden ain't even my fav character from fw #(looks at liam slyly)

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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 11 months ago

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Sleepover with Drunk Nanami

Nanami crashes on your couch after a drunken meeting on a rare night out.

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY. fem! Reader, Soft Nanami, drunk Nanami, slow burn (sorta? Does nine hours count?), discussions of consent, Gojo is in it also lol.

Word count: 13.9k, Ngl this one kind of got away from me 🤭🫣. Don’t have sex with drunk people! let the tension build until that consent is sober and enthusiastic.

This was inspired by the song Get Up by Ciara, and my being very horny. I haven’t written fanfic in almost ten years, so here’s what I have for you. This was so fun to write, I really hope y’all enjoy it. I am so obsessed with this man its actually insane.

Clubs were not his preferred way to “cut loose”. He hated the claustrophobic proximity, the overpriced drinks, the flagrants displays of affection, most of all the inability to hold a conversation. Resounding bass and artificial light blaring against his skull was sure to culminate in tomorrow’s headache. Nanami couldn't be bothered to entertain the idea of joining his coworkers to dance and drink as they so often invited him. He much preferred to keep his own company, drinking at home, indulging in the occasional (and strictly, personally regulated) cigarette, and reading in the bath. Although the last two weeks he found himself working around the clock. It seemed that as soon as he crossed his own home’s threshold he was back to work in some capacity or other. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to turn his brain off completely in between shifts. He hated working, period, let alone working outside of his normal hours, but the work needed to be done, and as the days trudged forward, his work life balance compounded into a singularity designed specifically to siphon any free time he could find.

But that had ended this afternoon, completing a mission’s adjoining paperwork and being released for a three day leave in between assignments. Returning to his small office, he begins to retrieve his coat and pack his bag to depart and return home to finally relax. Already feeling his shoulders unknot themselves, Nanami allowed a blissful sigh to leave his lips. No sooner had he begun to draw in the following breath than had the rapping of angular knuckles against his door frame rung in his ears. Raising his eyes, Kento sees long time (reluctant) friend and daily annoyance, Satoru Gojo, strolling casually inside and plopping across the desk from him.

“So what time should I pick you up?” Although Kento could not see his eyes behind the famous black blindfold hiding them, the blase demeanor and entitlement dripping from his question was apparent.

Already feeling the vein in his head begin to pulse, Nanami sighed out, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come out with us tonight. You’re off the ne t few days. I’m sure even you can recover from one night out in that time. Everyone is goin, Suguru, Shoko, yours truly…even Ijichi said he would come,” Gojo allows his smile to lure in the other man, “So you have to come.”

A familiar feeling rose the skin on the back of his neck as Kento heard his familiar train of thought, Absolutely not. I’m exhausted. I have to decline. Don’t wait up for me, but before the reluctance to break his own routine won over, his shoulders softened, “Okay.”

Gojo snapped to attention, his planned seduction now moot in the face of Nanami’s quick acceptance. He hadn't said yes to going out in two months, and the last time he had joined the group, he left less than an hour in claiming a headache and calling a cab.

“For real?” Gojo couldn't help himself, he was waiting for this to be a joke.

“Yes, 9:00 you’ll pick me up. We’ll go out. I could use the break. Thank you for the invitation.”

Gojo was beside himself, feeling his lips stretch from ear to ear, he rose to his feet and began to head to the door. He had to limit the time for Nanami to come to his senses, fearing this may all be some bought of madness from the usually grumpy man.

“See you then, wear something I like.”

Idiot always had to have the last word. Nanami lowered himself into his desk chair, taken aback by his own enthusiasm, a small smile creeping across his lips. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he couldn't say he was upset by it, it had been a long time since he had tried to meet his friends like this. He wasn't social by nature, and he was grateful to have people who understood that, allowing him his space but still continuing to include him in their extroverted fun. As much as Gojo’s refusal to allow him peace took its toll, Nanami was pleased to have someone so insistent on pushing his social limits. Although he would never tell him that.

These are the circumstances that lead Nanami to drinking as much as he had, to loosening his tie eventually to the point of hanging on either shoulder, to laying his jacket along the barstool of the hightop table he and his friends occupied. Dancing, actually dancing inside of the group of people gyrating together on the club’s designated dance floor. Eyes closed, hair sticking to his forehead, Kento felt the weight of fall away and the warm embrace of intoxication take over.

Gojo laughed over his dark sunglasses, nudging Geto’s elbow with his own before tipping his head to their large, very uncharacteristically drunk friend. They watched in shared admiration, laughing to each other, remembering fondly the stiff demeanor their friend had always carried. Since they’d known him they had seen him get drunk countless times, but drunk enough to dance? Only a handful. Drunk enough to have undone his top three buttons and reveal a growing flush down his neck and shoulders, maybe twice.

“He really needed this,” Geto praised Gojo lightly, it was him who always insisted on inviting out Nanami once again, despite the likely improbability of it happening.

Gojo smiled warmly before laughing again, this time to himself, he didn't want to reveal how easy it really was. How little he had had to push to get him out, he let the praise wash over him as he admired the usually stuffy man’s catharsis. Shoko returned then from the bar, two shots for herself and one for Ijichi who followed closely behind her, already starting to stumble himself.

That’s when Nanami saw you. Finally opening his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dim light, you appeared to him like a vision. And a vision you were, long legs wrapped in a skirt, a top lightly grazing the hemline at your waist, arms full and strong, hair styled specifically showcasing care and effort as well as routine. Engaged in conversation with a friend of yours, both laughing and allowing the atmosphere to relax you, Kento didn't realize his body had stopped dancing as he now stood dumbly in the center of the dancefloor. With soft pushes and thoughtless instinctual movement, he moved to the outskirts of the dancefloor, although still within sight of you. His breath caught in his chest, his hands ran cold, becoming clammy quickly as he watched you share a shot with your friend, head tipping back and revealing the full column of your neck to him. He felt his face flush further than the alcohol could.

Soon enough his back found the table that Shoko currently occupied, digging in her discarded coat’s pocket for her lighter, cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. Cooly placing her hand atop a few rattled glasses knocked around by his collision, she inquired as to Nanami’s dreamy state, “something got your attention?” her laugh broke through his haze just as she followed his eyeline to you.

“She’s pretty, you know her?” she was finally able to fish her lighter from the correct pocket.

Nanmi shook his head, still not able to tear his gaze away,” do you?”

“Never seen her before.” She observed the dumbstruck look in Nanami’s eyes weighing whether her input was more prescient than her desire for a smoke break, “You should try to talk to her. Who knows when we’ll get you out again. Make the most of it.”

With that she headed back towards the smoker’s patio, leaving Nanami with her words bouncing between his ears. When was the last time he had flirted with someone? When was the last time he had been on an actual date? When was the last time he had gotten to take someone home? When was the last time he had shared a bed with someone? When was the last time someone else had made him cum, not just himself between disgruntled days and nights working too much with little output? He had a break, he had come out, hadn't he? As he had gotten ready tonight he chastised his own mind for indulging in fantasies of meeting someone, But he didn't think he would find someone so ... .magnetic.

He wasn't even sure how long it had been since Shoko had gone outside, Kento snapped back to himself when he saw you set your drink down- nearly finished- and head into the throng of dancing bodies. His body moves before he can consciously decide how best to approach you; feet escorting him to the dance floor, hips following the beat and loosening the rest of him. His hands moved upward around his shoulders imitating a boxer’s stance, the alcohol clearly influencing his dancing style. Pressing forward he found himself just to your left. It was as though you had your own kinespheric bubble surrounding you, people danced near you but not on you. He felt invited in by this space, as though you had saved it just for him. He watched your body move, circling your hips and allowing your neck to follow the melody freely, your arms raising above your head as your eyes fluttered between completely closed and mostly closed. Your lips were parted beautifully, lip gloss catching the light so beautifully.

Maybe it was just chapstick, or it was lipstick, he had no idea, but just seeing the glint along your bottom lip made his mouth water for your kiss.

Would you use your tongue right away, or would he need to draw it out of you with his? Would you want him to guide you, or did you want to lead him yourself? He found his heart quickening at ever new possibility. When you finally allowed your eyes to open, they found him almost instantly. Locking eyes with you finally, Kento thought his skin was going to burst. Heart quickened, hand clammy, breath quick he searched for any reciprocation in your own eyes.

So when your eyes crinkle, following the line of your smile, so clearly directed right at him and only him, Kento can't resist but bring his hands to the sides of your hips.

The blonde man had been watching you since you got here. You noticed, Sophie noticed. As soon as you left the bar and staked your claim on an open hightop bordering the crowded but lively dance floor, she had jutted her chin toward him on the other side of the floor.

“Got one already.” she said impressed with your efficiency.

You turned to briefly meet his gaze, in just a second his gaze was so intense you could tell his eyes were honey brown and they were trained on you and only you, “oh come on. I’m sure he’s just checking everyone out.” you dismissed, still feeling the hot eyes on the back of your neck.

“He’s still looking at you,” Sophie marveled, “still looking…still…wow I don't think hes even trying to hide it.”

You knew. You could feel it, your heart raced. You had just barely looked at him but you had seen enough to see how attractive he was. A tall, broad frame, well cultivated outfit, neat, well styled hair, confidence and stability oozing from every pore. So clearly unabashedly interested. God, he was your type. Before you knew it most of your drink was drained, the nerves of being observed having made you suddenly parched. The liquid confidence settling in your system motivated you to pull Sophie to dance. You two found an open bubble in the sea of bodies and allowed yourself to release your lingering thoughts of the watcher.

That is, until you open your eyes once more, finding a pair of honey brown eyes begging for yours. It was him. He was less than two feet from you, he had sought you out. You couldn't help yourself, his interest and obvious enthusiasm brought a curl to your lips. Your smile locking him into a stare, you didn't flinch when you felt large, strong hands on your hips. It felt right, looking into his eyes the idea of not feeling him touch you felt preposterous. Your hips still followed the music, his soon joining their routine. His hands, once brazen, now stayed still and solid against your hips, moving with you, but never straying from their position. Emboldened by his sudden demure approach,wanting to reciprocate with just as much interested you turned, facing your back to him and pressing the curve of your ass against his hips, you thought you hear a soft groan exit his mouth. Once you had turned away from him, a bit of tension is relieved. You feel braver not looking him directly in the eye anymore. You grip onto one of his hands and trail it up your body, leaving the other gripping your hip harder and harder. Soon your back was fully against his chest, the music carried your pelvis, joined against his, everything else fell away as you guided his right hand across your body, side, hips, stomach and ass. His body felt so solid against yours, it was so solid against yours. He was an imposing figure, six foot or more, strong and cultivated build demonstrating both his personal strength and his own discipline. How you could have not noticed him here before was beyond you.

Nanami was hypnotized. From the moment you had looked him in the eye, he was hooked. Now that your body was flush against his, ass grinding into the front of his slacks, he couldn't think about anything else. He breathed hot against your ear as your fingers curled around his, sliding his fingers up from your hip to your stomach. It was so intimate, your leading his hand along your body, showing him exactly where you wanted his touch. You had your head cocked to the left, opening the side of your neck to him and moving your hair just under his nose, the smell of your shampoo was thrilling, he longed to run his fingers through your hair, to ruin your styling and pull. He wondered if you would let him brush it for you, wash it for you. He could learn exactly how you liked your routine, learn to style, learn to braid, anything to keep this smell close to him.

Behind his eyelids he wondered about your body, how your breasts would look, how your skin would flush through excitement or exertion, how wet you would get, how you would taste. He wondered, too, about your kiss, again thinking about how much tongue you would use, and if you would want to be in charge or him. A soft moan escaped his lips as he thought of your tongue sliding against his, directly against the shell of your ear. As if cued you spun around again, your leg slotted between his, allowing you both to move as one, grinding unashamed as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You can touch me yourself you know,” You could barely hear the music but Nanami knew exactly what you had said, “Or do you just like being told what to do.”

Your flirting sent a shock directly down his body, feeling his cock swell against the inside of his slacks, he slid his hands up the curves and folds of your back, your skin was so soft, he saw your lips part as he touched you. You were so reactive, he couldn't hear the caught breaths of the soft moans over the club’s speakers, but he watched as your eyes fluttered and your knees pulled tighter around him. One hand traveled down to the side of your leg, brushing down the side of your hip and ass to grip your thigh. The front strands of his hair had loosened and now hung freely in his face, a dark blush settled across his freckled nose and cheeks, one of your hands moved down his shoulder and onto his chest, he wished he had been more reckless and undone a few more buttons for you, he longed to have your fingers on his skin. But for now they held the collar of his shirt in their grasp, he longed for your eyes again, and as if you had read his find they met his own. He prayed you couldn't feel the way the eye contact had made his dick twitch, the blush deepening at the shame of being so crass in his attraction to you. Pulling him somehow even closer, he could feel your breath on his neck, he was panting a bit from the exertion of dance and the intense sexual tension. The song was beginning to end, and the DJ was already beginning to blend it with the introduction of the next song.

Seizing his opportunity, Nanami finally spoke his first words to you, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded, smiling at him, he wanted to make you smile again and again, the warmth of your gazing making the stuffy club feel icy by comparison.

“Thank you!”, you moved a hand down his arm to join your hands together. Guiding him over to the bar. Your hand in his felt electric, you both could feel it. His large, work roughened palm against your own. They had fit together so naturally.

As you made your way over to the bar the music became less and less overwhelming, the pressing of bodies became less insistent. You turned your head to find Sophie, chatting to a few friends she had planned to run into, she caught your eye before giving you a knowing look and a thumbs up. You smiled and winked at her before turning back to the man behind you. You caught him at the end of turning his head from what looked to be a group of his own friends. All of whom were looking at the pair of you. One, particularly tall man with dark glasses was giving an encouraging thumbs up mirroring Sophie’s. You caught yourself wondering if your friends would get along, if he would get along with your friends, if you would get along with his. You didn't even know this man's name, you had barely spoken to him, and here you were ready to merge friend groups and make brunch plans. What the hell was going on tonight?

Finally reaching the bar right as two seats opened up, you both sat, giving your exhausted legs much needed refuge. The air between you two suddenly became thick, without the immediacy of movement you found yourself suddenly worried about how to engage him again in the heat you had just had.

“What do you like to drink?”, he started right as you offered a question of your own,

“So what’s your name..”

You both laughed for a second, the acknowledgement of shared nerves taking a little pressure off. His smile was reserved, seemingly unpracticed. But his eyes betrayed his warmth, you could see.

“Kento Nanami,” He answered your question first, fighting the urge to hold out his hand for a chaste and professional handshake. He lifted his eyebrows to signify it being your turn to answer, you told him your name, and his smile returned again, “That's a beautiful name.” he repeated it back to you, ensuring his pronunciation was correct, when in actuality he could have rolled your name in his mouth a thousand times and never tired of the taste.

“I’d love a gin and tonic,” You offered, answering his question, “Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Drinking, he was drinking. Suddenly he was aware of how much he had been drinking. Skin hot and red, probably sweating all over you, stinking of booze. He felt the embarrassment move throughout his body as he replayed his invitation to buy you a drink. Were you just being nice to him? Wanting to find a polite way to get away from him and return to your friend? He had been so casual, so unhindered.

God, he was an idiot

“Sorry to take you away from your friends, I understand if you want to go back.”He wanted to offer you an out, feeling himself try to straighten up and will the drunkenness out of him before he embarrassed you or himself further. But to his surprise, you cocked your head to the side, eyes narrowing to assess his change in demeanor. You could see right through him.

“Don’t get shy on me now, the nights just starting,” you offered a new, slyer smile, “isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, the bartender finally rounded the bar top to take your orders. Nanami ordered your drink as well as one of his own, you added on the desire for some ice water. Once the drinks were down set, you offered him a little cheers, tapping your glass against his before sipping. The drink was cool and refreshing, the perfect remedy for the heat rising in your neck and face.

He was so handsome, from his carved cheekbones speckled with freckles, you wondered if they were anywhere further down his collar. His bottom lip was full and plump, parted slightly as he tasted his drink, with his face profile to yours you could see a small pink circle on the side of his nose.

“Do you wear glasses?”, you asked.

Nanami’s brows twitched slightly together, “I do.”

“You have those little impressions on your nose. From the bridge of your glasses.” You answer, without him having asked how you could tell, “I bet you look handsome with your glasses on.”

Nanami cursed himself for leaving his glasses in his coat pocket across the bar. He’ll never make that mistake again. Bringing the chilled glass to his lips, attempting to cover his smile. He feels so seen by you, the way your eyes move over every inch of him, he doesn’t know if he’s ever been observed so closely. It’s exhilarating, it’s terrifying. You’re terrifying. You’re exhilarating. You’re still looking at him. You’re looking at him expectantly. You asked him another question and he missed it. He scrambles through the last few seconds searching for what you may have said to him, and how he possibly could have missed it.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if those were your friends over there.” You pointed over his shoulder.

Nanami turned quickly, oh god too quickly, his head spinning a bit as his equilibrium struggled to catch up. Gojo was waving at him, gesturing broadly in unintelligible charades. Nanami felt his frustration flare up at both having been distracted from you and also having to once again decipher another one of Satoru’s riddles. At the meeting of their eye line, Gojo began to move over to where the pair of you were seated, Geto and Shoko sharing the weight of a stumbling Ijichi. The head vein began pulsing again, he ought to name it after Gojo the way he sets it off. Panic set throughout his body, he didn’t want you to meet his friends— or maybe he didn’t want them to meet you. Not yet. He didn’t want to risk ruining what hadn’t yet really started. Suddenly feeling very territorial of you, he turned back, once again sending his head swimming.

“Yes. Those are my coworkers. I’m not—“

“Nanamiiiiin. We gotta take Ijichi home, he’s already thrown up twice. It’s gross.” Gojo was already halfway through his sentence before reaching the bar.

You assessed the new crowd of faces. Odd faces, all so well built and specific. Between the tall man in the darkest sunglasses you had ever seen in an already dark bar, the lithe woman with purple eyeshadow and the most perfect beauty mark, and the embodiment of tall dark and handsome— you wondered what exactly Nanami did for a living. Was there some kind of work force that employed only the hottest people you had ever seen. It took you a second to notice the younger, far drunker man with his arm slung around the black haired man with the gauges. The white haired man was still talking to Nanami, maybe arguing, but they spoke too softly for you to hear specifics. Both were cut off

“So do you want a ride home or are you good here?” Gauges asked eyes moving between you and Nanami coolly, before readjusting his hold of the nearly asleep fourth man.

The woman tapped on her phone, seemingly uninvested in what was happening, now barely holding onto their friend.

The white haired man cut in before Nanami could answer, “you hit those drinks pretty hard, Nanami. We don’t want you getting taken advantage of.” His face turned toward you and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt them.

Wow, like really felt them, he was sizing you up, it was clear. It was confusing, his inflection was teasing-almost joking, but his energy was severe.

Nanami was seething, mortified by the intrusion and Gojo’s crass assertion, “I can get myself home.”

It would have sounded more convincing if the slurring of his voice hadn’t married the words myself and home into a mess. You noticed, realizing for the first time that you were much more sober than him. His friends noticed too.

Nanami cleared his throat before speaking again, “I’m a grown man, I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojo. I’m enjoying my evening. Please take Ijichi home.”

Gojo didn’t seem convinced, turning his face back to you and finally sliding the sunglasses down his nose to reveal the bluest pair of eyes you had ever seen. They nearly glowed in the dim club. This gesture caused the others of the group to stiffen up. The woman finally putting her phone down, Gauges eyeing him carefully, even Nanami drew in a tense breath.

“We quite like our friend Nanami, we wouldn’t want him getting hurt.” He spoke directly to you, between his height and your seated position he leaned over you slightly, “are you someone we can trust our friend with?”

Nanami was about to cut in but before he could you met those azure eyes with yours, “I quite like your friend too.,” you copied his inflection, “ I understand why you’d be wary of some stranger taking him home. Since you have your hands full, I’ll watch him for the night. If he decides he needs a ride home, why don’t I call you directly?”

Nanami felt his jaw drop, looking between you and Gojo carefully. He caught Geto’s eye, seeing him smile lightly. No one talked to Gojo like this. Shoko chuckled softly, impressed with your lack of fear in the face of their “strongest” friend. There was no way for you to know the risk you were taking, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

“That is, if he would like to join me back to mine?” You continued, looking away from Gojo and back to Nanami.

“I’d like that very much.” Nanami answered quickly, in any other situation he would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded, especially in front of his friends. But you wanted to take him home, you wanted to keep talking to him, he could see where you lived, maybe you would let him kiss you, or touch you again.

“Give me your phone.”

The request snapped Nanami from his fantasy. Gojo held his hand out expectantly. To his surprise you handed over your cell phone. Gojo typed quickly, “This is my phone number and where Nanami lives. If I don’t answer, stick him in a cab to this address. Okay?”

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you, Gojo.” You attempted to ease the tension created, “I promise you’ve left him in good hands and I’ll return him to you in one piece.” You smiled warmly at him, cutting through the attempts at intimidation, even offering a small wink to Nanami over his friend’s shoulder.

You didn’t back down, you understood why anyone would be concerned about leaving their drunk friend with a stranger. It was a testament to how much he cared, he seemed completely sober himself. Playing DD, you assumed, was not a role he took lightly. You respected his protectiveness, you had done nearly the same on many occasions. If this is what Nanami’s friends were like, you would definitely fit in. You glanced down at where Gojo had written in the notes app of your phone. A string of numbers— his cell, and an address, Nanami’s, and below that another line, just for you.

Be nice to him, he’s more sensitive than he looks :)

Yeah, you would get along with this one. You smiled up at him and Nanami both before the dark haired man slung the full weight of the now completely passed out bespectacled man on his back in an attempt at a piggy back, and smiled to you warmly,

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Kento. Have a nice night.” Before turning and leading the group toward the exit. Gojo handed off Nanami’s jacket before pushing his glasses up his nose and turning around to follow.

With no more company, the two of you were once again alone. Nanami struggled to collect his thoughts before you soothed him, “Your friends are nice. They seem to really care about you. How long have you all worked together?”

“We all went to high school together.”

“And you’re still friends? That impressive, I barely keep up with friends from that long ago.”

“We’re, sort of, stuck with each other.” Nanami started, caught in the trap of having to figure out some way to explain his job without, actually, explaining his job. Thankfully, you cut that conversational thread and moved forward.

“I hope I wasn't too forward. You don't have to come back to mine. I felt like we were just getting to talking and I didn’t want to cut it short yet. But please don’t feel obligated.” You wanted to assure him that he could proceed however he wanted to. Despite how hopelessly attracted to this man you were, you recognized your responsibility as the more sober party to remain respectful.

“No I want to!” He blurted, not thinking about his volume, quickly standing.

You laughed, “I didn’t mean now! If you want to stay and have another drink, or dance more, that's good too.”

His resolve was starting to crack, it had been nearly an hour since he first saw you enter the club. He wanted desperately to be alone with you, suddenly the club was too hot and too crowded and too loud. Everything was overwhelming, and the only thing he wanted to overwhelm him was you.

Still standing he stepped in toward you a sudden surge of confidence lowering his voice and causing his head to dip down to meet you at eye level, “I would, very much like to join you back at your place.”

His voice was dripping with want, the eroticism behind his words lidding his eyes and sending chills down the side of your neck. You let out a small shaky breath before standing up, chest nearly colliding with his, sending him back up to his full height.

“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. Stay here.”

You nearly ran to find Sophie and your mutual friends at a table of their own. Leaving Nanami to settle his tab and wait patiently at the bar for your return. Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear the music. When you finally found her, you pulled her close to speak directly into her ear.

“I’m taking blondie back to mine. You all good here?”

She gave you a taunting oooh before smiling, “you really do work fast. Next time lets see if you can last two full hours before taking someone home.”

You rolled your eyes before giving her a tight hug and grabbing your jacket, “love you, text me when you get home.”

Waving to your other friends you turned on your heels and saw Nanami still standing at the bar patiently at the bar patiently. He hadn't pulled out his phone to pass the time, he simply waited, just as you had told him. God, if he could follow benign instructions like this so well, you can only imagine how well he would do with something more salacious. You had to relax, you knew nothing would happen tonight. He would come over and crash, and that was enough for now.

Nanami counted to six in his head over and over, trying to measure his breaths as though if he increased his oxygen intake he wouldn't be drunk anymore. The sides of his vision were fuzzy and dreamlike, ears hot, tongue a bit dry, all his physical indicators of intoxication were present. He paid his tab, the only things on it were your and his brief shared drink. Realizing that since Gojo( maybe Geto?) had purchased the earlier rounds, he actually had no way of knowing how much he had had tonight. What had he gotten himself into? His attempts to sober up proved inefficient because just as quickly as you had left, you were standing in front of him once more wearing your jacket and sliding your purse over your shoulder. You still looked so beautiful,

“Ready?”

He nodded, “Ready.”

And now he sat in the back of a cab, behind the driver, you on the other side. Had he remembered to open the door for you? Had you two waited outside for the cab to pull up long? A window had been cracked allowing fresh, night air to brush past his face. Your thumb ran over the back of his hand. You were holding his hand. He looked down to confirm that your fingers were interlocked with his resting on the middle seat between the two of you. They looked good like that, his long fingers laced with yours. How long had you been holding hands? Eyes wandering he saw the skin of your thigh where your skirt had ridden up, he wanted to feel your leg against his, the space between you in the backseat suddenly feeling cavernous.

“You’re so far away.” he mutters, not really intending to say so out loud.

Without saying anything you giggled and scooted closer to him, moving your joined hands into your lap and your leg right against his. You tipped your head up to look at him, he wanted desperately to kiss you. Just as he began to lean into your lips you stopped him with your fingers.

“Not yet.” was all you offered him as conciliation.

He nodded, lips still restrained by your fingertips. The faint smell of the lime you had squeezed into your drink still lingering. Even just having his lips on your fingertips sent his body into a frenzy. But he was a patient man. Drunk or not, he knew how to wait for what he wanted. Still, he allowed himself to indulge a little, he kissed your finger tips before pulling back with a sigh, nodding silently.

The rest of the drive was quick, or at least it felt quick. You lived in an apartment building and when the cab pulled up outside, you handed over a few bills before sliding out of the door closest to you. Nanami began to move toward his before it opened suddenly. You had opened his door for him and were now offering your hand to help him out. He stared up at you entranced, he felt romanced by you. It dawned on him that he had truly let himself be “picked up”. Taking your hand he exited the car and tried to think if he had ever had this happen before. Women approached him sure, men too, but whenever he allowed himself to spend the night with someone they had always come back to his place. It allowed him a sense of control, and thus comfort in a vulnerable situation. Vulnerability did not come naturally to him, not now anyway. He wasn't prudish or uncomfortable with casual sex, but he liked to remain the organizer of them. Much like everything in his life he liked it to remain under his control. But tonight, you had steered him right to your door and he was so willing, it dawned on him only once that maybe he could have gotten himself in a dangerous situation. He barely knew anything about you, he knew your name, and now where you lived, but the rest of you was a mystery to him. And yet here he was, following you down the hallway to your apartment door truly not caring what could be on the other side as long as it meant more time with you.

You hesitated at the front door, holding your keys in one hand, aimed at the lock.

“I want you to know I’ll call your friend whenever you like. If you decide you want to leave, you just say so and It won't be a problem. You won't hurt my feelings and it doesn’t have to be awkward.” It felt redundant at his point, but you couldn't shake the discomfort of having taken him home in this state. He had nodded off briefly in the cab, holding your hand tightly, before coming too and staring at you with wide eyes. You nearly backed off then and redirected the driver to the address his friend-- neigh, Bodyguard-- had written down. But then he had wanted you to come closer, and tried to kiss you. You knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but still he sought you out.

Gnawing the inside of your lip you looked up at him nervously, waiting for his response. Nanami looked down at you, his already drooping eyes still warm toward you, “I really like you. I think you’re beautiful. I bet you're a great decorator, can I please see what you’ve done to your apartment?”

His response made you laugh again. He Hadn't really answered you, but it was clear what he wanted. You weren't sure if he was intending to be funny, but nonetheless, the anxiety you had just felt slipped away once again and you turned the lock, leading him inside. You liked your apartment, it wasn't the nicest place available. But it was a two bedroom you could afford by yourself, with a good sized kitchen and small personal patio. Frankly, you were lucky to have even found it. You were a good decorator, and you were proud of the job you had done with the interior. A large, well managed and organized bookshelf along one wall with a recliner and side table, art along the walls you had collected since first moving away from home. A medium sized brown couch that was perfect for movie nights with Sophie or an afternoon nap. You had made a home here, and you were thankful for the chance to show it off.

“Wow…” Nanami’s voice sounded nice inside of your home.

“You like it?” you began to shed your jacket, hanging it on a tree rack by the door and clicking on a few lights. You offered to take his coat.

“It’s beautiful, so warm.” Nanami began to slip his jacket down his shoulder, suddenly realizing he didn't actually remember putting it on, “you did all of this yourself?”

You barely heard his question, distracted by the way his shirt stretched over the muscles of his back, “Uh.. yeah. I moved in about three years ago. So it's been a process but I’m pretty proud of how it turned out.”

You turned to hang his coat next to yours, even they looked cute together. He removed his shoes carefully, still stumbling a bit before he took a few steps into your apartment’s main room.

“Why don’t you take a seat.” you gestured to the couch

He sat gracelessly, cushion sinking more under him than he expected. His couch at home was pretty stiff, yours was soft and pliant under his weight. He steadied himself again, feeling embarrassed suddenly.

“I dont usually drink like this, I drink.. Just not so….like this?” He attempted to save some face in the wake of his stumble.

You stood by the edge of the couch before moving into the kitchen area.

“Are you hungry? I could make us something before bed.” You offered, more needing an escape from the building sexual tension than feeling any actual hunger.

“Oh I couldn’t put you out like that…” He started, feeling his limbs get heavy with comfort as the softness of your couch lulled him to lay down. It wouldn't hurt to just lay down a little, right?

“It's no trouble, really! We may feel better in the morning if we eat something now.” you called from behind him. Your voice seemed further away somehow as he pressed his cheek against the soft suede beneath him.

The couch smelled so good, like incense and home cooked food. He wondered if you had a pet he hadn't yet seen, or if you wanted one. Were you a dog person? Or did you prefer cats? Maybe you were one of those people into reptiles, he could learn to love one if you wanted him to. In this state he would do anything you asked him. Which was precisely why he wasn't getting the one thing he wanted from you, he buried his frustrated expression further into the couch. A small groan exiting his lips. Your hand brushed the back of his neck, rousing him back to attention.

“Kento, honey? You still with me?” your voice was so sweet saying his name, he wanted to hear it again. Once he looked up at you he saw you had a glass of water in your hand offering it to him, “Are you good to sleep in these clothes or should I look for something for you to wear?”

He was still in his dress clothes, not his work dress clothes, but not exactly lounge wear. His button up was stiff and pants had been well tailored, hell, he was still wearing his belt, “thank you.” he accepted the water, and by proxy your offer.

He was left alone in your living room. Slurping down the cool water he tried once against to regain his composure. Had he fallen asleep again just now? You seemed to have abandoned the idea of eating so he must have drifted off. This job really had run him ragged.

“They still may not be the right size, but they’ll work for the night I think.” You returned from the side room, presumably your bedroom, with a pair of black sweatpants, “They used to be my brother’s, but they've got some paint stains from when I redid the bathroom. Sorry I don't really have anything else.”

He accepted them graciously, setting the water down on a coaster before standing, “Thank you, this is all very nice of you. Letting me stay the night like this, I'm really not usually like this…”he started to repeat himself.

“It's really no trouble, it's been a long time since I let a man as handsome as you sleep on my couch.”

The couch. So he wouldn't be joining you in bed tonight. Part of him had hoped that even though he wouldn't be sleeping with you tonight, he could at least sleep in your bed, “The couch, huh?” His half awake state allowed the thought to slip out half formed.

“Mhm, the couch. You two seem to have really hit it off. I'm certain the drool puddle wasn't there when I left.” You pointed to a small wet spot on the cushion where his face had been.

Once again the embarrassment of his current state shot through his body like electricity, so he had fallen asleep again. He hung his head cringing at himself, “Oh jesus…I cant believe this.. I’m--”

You cut him off, “You really don't need to be sorry. I like having you here. And tomorrow morning maybe we can have coffee and talk some more. I hope you don't think I was just inviting you over to fuck you.”

His breath caught, “No, I- well.. I thought you--”

“I, of course, want to fuck you. And I don't really see any point in hiding it anymore now that you’re here. But it’s just not going to happen tonight. And I don't think I'll get a wink of sleep next to you when all I can think about is that. Does that make sense?”You were tired, you didn't want to be coy and demure anymore. You wanted to be frank and upfront about how you felt and what you wanted. Nanami nodded understandingly, although still a little surprised at your confession. You continued, “So, you’ll sleep here. I’ll sleep in my bed. I usually wake up at 8, the door to my bedroom is unlocked. If you need anything during the night, please don't hesitate to wake me up. The bathroom is the door behind you, you can change in there.”

Nanami was awestruck by your instructional tone, it sent his mind in a thousand directions; thinking of you telling him house work that needed to be done on the weekend, to you telling him exactly how to please you. He wanted you so badly, pants growing tighter, breath getting heavier. You stepped forward, nearly right up against his chest.

“I hope you're not too disappointed that I won't take advantage of you tonight.” Your voice soft.

“I respect your self control.” His eyes were locked on your lips, so plump and soft looking.

“I’m going to bed,”You leaned in closer, so close he could smell your perfume again, still as hypnotic as it was in the club, “Goodnight, Kento.”

You pressed your lips against his cheek. His body shuddered as your lips lingered there before you pulled away back on flat feet. Trying desperately to regulate his racing heart, Nanmi looked at you desperately.

“Goodnight.”

You turned back to the side room hitting a wall switch to extinguish the kitchen light before closing your bedroom door and leaving him in your dimly lit living room. He could still feel your lips burning on his cheek, he stood for a few seconds not wanting any other sensations that could potentially dull this one. Finally, he shed his pants, folding them haphazardly and setting them on your recliner. He sweatpants you had given him fit okay, the drawstring was broken so they hung pretty loose around his hips, showing just the elastic of his briefs. He undid the rest of his shirt buttons and folded it to stack atop his pants. He hoped you wouldn't mind, but he never slept with a shirt on. Honestly, he didn't usually sleep with pants on either, he already ran hot but sleeping was an entirely different story. Sleeping fully clothed almost always culminated in him waking up in a pool of sweat as though he had just broken a fever. Laying on his back on the couch he pulled a throw blanket over him, mind racing with thoughts of tomorrow.

In your room you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You had returned to your room like every night, put on an old t shirt and shorts as you always did, washed your face and brushed your hair as though it was any old night, turned on your white noise and gotten into bed as if there wasn't the most attractive and charming man you had ever met settling in to sleep on your couch at this very moment. The nights events played and replayed in your mind on a loop, the intensity of his gaze across the floor, the way he had materialized right in front of you, the feeling of his body pressed up behind yours, his hands on your back back, his hand in yours, him asking to kiss you in the cab, him snoring softly on your couch, the way he had looked at you as he said goodnight. You had never felt so pulled toward another person before. It was far from a perfect night, on a perfect night you’d be fucking each other blind until the sun came up at this very moment. On a perfect night you wouldn't have even been in that club, you would already be his, spending romantic evenings reading and cooking. You wondered if he liked to read, what his favorite meals were, if he wanted pets, if he would want to move in here or if he’d ask you to move in with him. You recognized the street name of his address, he lived in a far nicer part of the city than you did. You wondered what his place looked like, if he had decorated it personally or if he had help. God, you haven't even asked if he had a girlfriend. You checked for a ring while you were dancing, but you got so caught up that the idea of a girlfriend hadn’t even crossed your mind. You rolled onto your side trying to relieve some anxiety, he didn't have a girlfriend. You met his friends, they were intense, sure. And sure, one of them had lightly threatened you, but it didn't seem like the threat was rooted in a fear of infidelity. It seemed like the threat came purely from a safety standpoint.

Were you being irresponsible? Was it smart of you to have brought him here so easily? You rarely brought hook ups here, almost always opting to follow them home and politely excuse yourself in the morning. You found yourself bending so many of your usual rules for him, giving your information to his friends, leaving the club so quickly, bringing him to your apartment. Nanami was so big and looked so strong, it probably wouldn't take a lot for him to overpower you. You had practically offered yourself to him on a silver plate. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to be afraid of him. You couldn't say that you knew him well enough to know he was safe, but you just…trusted him. And you felt that he trusted you too.

Your lips still tingled from kissing him. It was just a goodnight kiss, a simple gesture intended to convey continued interest but the end of the conversation around sex. You could call it chaste, even. And yet here you were, lips feeling electrified from a mere two second kiss on the cheek. Whatever product he uses in his hair smelled incredible, like honey or tobacco or sandalwood. Something organic and masculine. The soft sound of surprise he had let out when you touched the back of his sleeping neck resounded in your ears. His voice was so pretty, your mind attempted to conjure what he could sound like when he climaxed. If he would let out a low, husky groan, or if he would whine and beg you for more. You felt your pussy dampen at what your imagination offered you. Thoughts of him were consuming you, seconds moving by glacially as you begged for sleep to take over and bring the beautiful, sober light of day through your bedroom window. When it finally did your dreams were abstract but they were blue and honey and blonde.

Nanami could already feel his head pulsing before he opened his eyes. Oh God. When he finally did manage to pry his eyes open, he found himself not looking at his bedroom wall. He wasn't in his bedroom at all. He wasn't in his bed. Where the fuck was he? He sat up slowly, head pounding and back aching. He took in his new surroundings: he was on a couch, there were his clothes folded on the chair, he remembered taking them off, he looked to the coffee table and saw a glass of water mostly untouched with two small painkillers next to it. It must have been left there by you. YOU! This was your apartment, he had slept on your couch in your apartment! Memories of the previous night came screaming back against his aching head. The club, the shots, meeting you, dancing, you taking him home, you taking care of him-- oh god he was so drunk. Had he really fallen asleep twice? He was mortified. He didn't know if he could face seeing you. He remembered Gojo’s threats and his cheeks burned both in embarrassment and rage, where does he get off acting like some kind of guardian over him. Then again, if he was that drunk then maybe he needed it…maybe just not that one. He stood up on shaky, sore legs, even these pants weren't his. He needed to leave before he embarrassed you or himself any further. This was a mistake, he can't believe he let himself get so carried away, you must have thought he was some drunken fool who cant take care of himself. Maybe he was a drunken fool who couldnt take care of himself.

He unfolded his pants and wracked his brain for whether you had told him which door was your bathroom so he could change back into his own clothes. Just as he was trying to remember which door you had said led to the bathroom, you emerged from the side room yawning.

“Good morning!” You stretched a bit as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you weren't planning on running off before I got out here. I set the coffee to make enough for two and if you don't drink part of it, I'll be buzzing for the rest of the day.”

The lilt of your laugh brought it all back. He knew exactly how he let himself get carried away. You were magnificent, even more beautiful in the morning light, hair undone, legs exposed under your sleep shorts, what appeared to be a well loved sweatshirt hanging off your shoulders. You took his breath away, he couldn't believe you were actually real. Not some dream his drunken state had conjured to torment him.

You were so grateful to have your back turned on him, it was stupid of you to assume he would have slept in that button up, and you hadn't given him a shirt to wear, despite having an extensive collection of oversized t-shirts that would certainly have covered him. But seeing him shirtless in your living room just for the duration of your walk from bedroom to coffee maker was enough to nearly make you falter right then and there. He was so, fucking, built. How does one even get a body like that, did he live at the gym? He hadn't really explained what it was he did for work, was he a trainer? You weren't really a big gym person, but you could be convinced to start going if it meant watching him huff and puff and sweat.

“Good morning. I don't know where to begin…”, His voice was the same as the previous night, low and smooth, but this morning it was more reserved, more even and controlled, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out last night. I really can't believe my own behavior. I’m truly sorry.”

You turned to face him, you were expecting some kind of hangover induced remorse, but he sounded genuinely apologetic, as though he had imposed himself upon you rather than having been invited as a guest.

He continued, “I know it doesn't mean much, but I don’t go out very often. I had had a rough few weeks at work and my friends wanted to help me loosen up a bit. Apparently I did a little too good of a job with that part. I'm so sorry to have put you out, I hope your night wasn’t ruined by having to take care of me. I'm grateful to you, I'm just so…”

“How do you take it?” you cut him off before allowing him to apologize to you once again, turning back around to the two cups of coffee you had poured.

“Excuse me?”

“Your coffee,” you opened the fridge to see if you even had any milk to offer him.

“I--”

“I have sugar, or honey if you prefer, and then I don't have any cream but i do have oat milk. I usually take mine with one sugar. How do you take yours?”

Nanami was beside himself, mid flagellation, completely shut down and now once again having to ask something of you, “One sugar is perfect.”

You dropped about a teaspoon of sugar into each mug, giving them both a quick stir before setting the spoon in the sink and walking over to the couch to meet him. Getting close you saw that his freckles did extend down onto his shoulders. Small scatterings of cinnamon dusted on fair, even skin. You handed him one mug, your favorite mug actually, it was dark blue and hand thrown. You had bought it at an art fair when you first moved to town, you’d tell him that story eventually.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. I’m glad I met you last night. And I’m glad you stayed over. And I'm especially glad you're still here now.” You took a seat on your usual spot on the couch, to the right of him. He was still standing, body facing the kitchen but face watching you intently, now holding his mug but not drinking. You patted the spot next to you on the couch. He sat down, silence fell between the two of you as you sipped your coffee again. He followed suit, the steaming drink already starting to soothe his hangover. He couldn't help the soft moan the escaped him, drinking down the relief of caffeine.

“Taste okay?” you checked in.

“Its perfect. Thank you.” he felt himself loosen up, his brain choosing to be kinder and remind himself of the parts of last night that had gone well. Making you laugh, making you smile, dancing with you, the smell of your hair, your lips on his cheek. You were sat facing him, back against the arm of the couch, legs curled in front of you, he sat up right with his feet planted on the ground, allowing his poster to relax a bit and lean against the back of your couch.

You took his relaxation as an opportunity to take him in. So this was what he was like in the morning: shyer, a bit stiffer, still so fucking handsome. His brown eyes were still a bit droopy with sleep (and likely a bit of light sensitivity), a light impression of the hem of your couch cushion had imprinted itself on his cheek, his hairstyle had fallen and his blonde strands now hung loosely in front of his face. And he still hasn't put a shirt on. His torso was like something in a museum. Strong, broad shoulders sat atop full, muscle built pectorals. The hair there was light and looked soft, it became darker and coarser leading down his toned stomach. You longed to run your tongue over every inch of him, but chose instead to sip your coffee and gawk somewhat openly. Finally the silence became too much and you spoke up again,

“When do I need to have you back to your bodyguard?” you teased sliding your knee to bump against his.

“My-- oh, Gojo, don’t worry about him. He’s likely forgotten all about it.” Nanami tried to cover up the hopefulness in his voice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be today?”

It was a Friday, it was plausible you would have to go into a job today, but he didn't know what you did for work so it was equally plausible that you, like him, were off. To his delight you shook your head, smiling coyly over the rim of your coffee cup, leaning back against the throw pillows he had arranged to rest his head last night. Feeling more confident now that he had shaken off the initial mortification, Nanami scooted closer to you on the couch, setting his mug down on your coffee table. He moved one hand to gently take your mug and place it on the coffee table beside his. He then put his hands at the top of your knees and pulled you closer to him, so you were nearly sitting in his lap.

“So I have a question.” He kept his hands on your legs as he spoke.

“Mm?” you were too stunned to form any actual words.

“Last night, you said something to me. Something about wanting to wait until this morning to fuck me,” he shocked himself at his boldness, “how do you feel about that now?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly all encompassing as his hands touched your skin, this was the most you had touched since the dance floor. His fingertips felt like they were burning you, but the way a hot bath burns your skin just before it becomes relaxing.

This was it, you met his eyes, flicking down briefly to his lips, then back up,“I am still, very interested. What about you.”

Nanami moved one hand over your shoulder, to the back of your neck, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your lips and he spoke, “I can't believe you made me wait all night.”

He pushed his lips to yours, finally feeling the kiss you both had waited so desperately for. His lips were so soft, the coffee you prepared lingering on both of you. His hand on your neck rose to tangle in your hair and yours reached out to find his neck, his shoulder, his hair-- fucking ANYTHING. He leaned over you slightly, catching a momentary moan and sliding his tongue between your lips, he found himself moaning, feeling your tongue slide against his. Your hands were on his back now, feeling the muscles flex and retract at every turn of his head or readjustment of his hands. The hand not on your head how found your waist, sliding up and down your form savoring every roll and bump and divot his fingers could find. Finally, fucking finally he could touch you, his lips slotted against yours over and over, allowing your tongues adjust and readjust, it was messy and desperate and so passionate, Nanami kissed you like he would never kiss you or anyone else every again. Like a man who knew he could die tomorrow and never again know the warmth of a kiss this intense. You pulled away briefly for air and before his hungry lips could pull you back down you started to remove your top. He met your hands half way and finished the motion for you, you hadn't put a bra on since waking up, opting instead for the thick sweatshirt instead. Your chest was now as exposed as his was. As desperate as he was to have your lips on his again, he took a moment to admire you. Your breasts were full, and round enough to fit perfectly in his grip, nipples hardened already in your exhilaration, still so reactive for him. He wondered if you were wet already, and if so- how wet were you. He couldn't wait to find out. He was staring, lost in his thoughts of how best to appreciate everything you were giving him. So much care, so much trust, your beautiful body. He wanted to know how best to show you what it meant to him.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Since you shed your top he was staring at you. You didn't mind it at first, but it was starting to make you self conscious. You weren't insecure about your body, but the intensity of his gaze, how you could nearly hear his mind racing, made you desperate to know what he thought. Finally he broke his gaze away from your chest, raising up one hand to hold your right breast firmly, he looked deep into your eyes moving to kiss you again, softer and more intimately but still just as passionate as before.

“So beautiful…” he said in between kisses, “Even better than I imagined. You’re so beautiful.”

You moaned against his lips as he massaged your chest. He redirected his kisses down the side of your neck, across your collarbone and right to the breast held in his hand. He kissed around the nipple before finally taking it into his mouth. A haughty moan was pulled from you as he sucked hard, eyes flicking up to watch you arch under his mouth. He moved to the otherside, and your hand took refuge in the short hair at the back of his neck. The cropped undercut left little to grip, so your nails dug lightly into his scalp. He moaned around your nipple, eyes rolling back slightly, and hips jutting into the couch involuntarily.

You marvel at his reaction, letting out a small chuckle before moving your nails across his hair again, “You like that?”

He nods wordlessly, mouth still full of you. He knew he was kissing hard enough to bruise, he didn't care. The taste of your skin, the feeling of your body under his, of your fingers in your hair had him feeling drunker than last night. He couldn't get enough of you, he was truly insatiable. He began to move to return to the first side of your chest when you pulled him back up to your mouth, kissing him hard.

“‘Need you.” you pleaded against him

“Need you too, so fucking bad.” He agreed, leaning back upright, and bringing you with him.

You pulled off and stood up quickly, your boobs bouncing as you moved, he would have been embarrassed of the sizable tent growing in the borrowed sweatpants, if he had had any remaining brain power to think about anything other than fucking you. But he didn’t. He stood up and followed you into your bedroom. You had a queen bed, a small wardrobe, a vanity table that appeared to double as a work desk and maybe moonlighted as a craft station. He couldn’t wait to find out what clothes went in what drawers, maybe eventually you would let him keep some of his work clothes here so he could spend the night on weekdays. You turned to face him before reaching the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down once again to kiss you. His hands fell to your exposed waist, the skin so soft and supple, they teased along the topline of your shorts, lingering to be told the next move. Without him having to ask, you nodded against his lips, and his hands dipped underneath the waist band, finding not underwear but only skin. His hands gripped into the meat of your ass, pulling moans from both of you. Your own hands had slipped down his stomach and began to remove the second hand pants from him as well. Finding the tangled up positioning complicated, you both pulled away briefly to remove the last of your clothing before you led him in climbing on the bed. He followed suit, ogling openly at how your body curved and folded and stretched with every motion. You were nearly serpentine the way your hips shifted climbing onto your bed. His cock was so hard between his legs, pre cum dripping onto your comforter as he followed your crawl. As you turned onto your back, he was right behind you, moving himself between your legs to meet your lips once more. A hand started on the back of one of your thighs, causing you to shiver deliciously.

“You're so sensitive.” He praised, sliding a finger feather light from your ass to the back of your knee.

You mewled unabashedly, proving his point. Finger trailing back down, his hands now gripped both of your thighs, he was on his knees before you, parting your legs further to finally, FINALLY look right at your glistening wet pussy. He nearly fainted at the sight. Lower lips parted to reveal the most beautiful, most delicious looking pussy he had ever seen. He couldn't stop himself, he leaned right down and planted a kiss directly onto it. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation, the taste, the smell, the feel of your pussy lips against his mouth, soft pubic hair brushing his nose and he gave a long lick from bottom to top.

“Thank you,” he was so grateful to you. For last night, for taking care of him, for being here this morning, for being here at all, he couldn't believe he had found you like this, and he planned to make the most of his chance.

Never in your life had you been thanked by someone eating your pussy. But here was Kento Nanami devouring you like he hadn't eaten in weeks and whimpering gratitudes into your wetness. You hadn't had time to even realize his intentions before he pushed his tongue between your lips, and once he had your brain had short circuited, causing you to assume the initial “thank you” had been all in your head. It wasn't until it was a mantra he clung to while increasing his ferocity that you realized he really was thanking you. Your hands flew to his hair again, this time pushing back the longer strands in the front that had gathered in his face. You pulled hard when he first sucked your clit into his mouth, the moan he let out sent vibrations up your body and added to the pleasure he was already giving you. Your legs were over his shoulders, your hands in his hair, his mouth was taking you apart one lap at a time, one of his hands found your breasts again, there was so much sensation it was like he knew precisely how to make you unravel before him.

Nanami didn't even realize he was rutting his hips into your mattress, his body desperately seeking friction to his painfully hard cock. He didnt think he had been this hard in years, he couldnt think at-fucking-all. The only thing on his mind was how good you tasted, how pretty you sounded above him, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to make you say his name. He brought his free hand up and slid two of his fingers up and down your folds, getting them thoroughly wet before stopping them just in front of your already clenching hole.

“Do you want these?” his voice is even lower than before, mouth pornographically drenched in you.

You nodded helplessly, just looking at him between your legs threatening to make you cum. He gave a rough squeeze to the breast he held, “No.” he corrected, “ask me.”

You knew what game he wanted to play now, you knew he could tell how much wetter you had just gotten at his darker tone and rougher grip, the tiny showcase of his strength already sending your mind reeling to know how rough he could really get with you. But not right now, now you needed him, any of him, inside of you more than you needed air. So you’ll play along.

“Please, oh fuck please Kento, please put your fingers inside me, i need it. I need it so bad, please.”

More than pleased with your efforts, he slides his fingers into you, they go in so easily, youre so fucking wet. He resumes his meal, already itching to taste you again, now using his fingers to draw even more wetness out of you and onto his tongue. He curls his fingers slightly upward and your moans raise in pitch. He’s hit it, if he keeps this up you’ll cum in no time. You're panting, your moaning, you’re nearly screaming and Kento continues to thrust his long fingers into you, hitting your g spot with inhuman accuracy. You can feel it, you’re nearly there.

“K-Kento i’m..oh fuck i..I’m cumming of fuck I--”, a half scream-half moan rips through your lungs robbing you of the end of your sentence as he pulls your orgasm out of you. You're shaking, you’re pulling his hair, you’re repeating his name over and over until it's completely garbled in your mouth. He takes everything you give him, holding your hips down firmly so you stay connected to his mouth, not letting up with his fingers until he's satisfied you’re through the totality of your first climax. He continues lazy licks as you come down from your high, slowly easing out his fingers and sucking those clean as well.

From your spot on your back you look down at him still panting and dazed from cumming harder than you thought possible with another person. You and your trusty vibrator had made some good memories, but you never expected someone could make you cum like that on the first try. He knew it too, he could see it on your face as he savored the remnants of your cum on his fingers. You moved your hands to his shoulders, weakly pulling, urging him to come up to you. He followed your lead and moved his body over you. You could finally see how fucking hard he was. And how fucking big he was. Just by looking you had to assume he was seven or eight inches long, and he was thick, thicker towards the head than at the base, two pretty veins wrapped around him, the tip was so pink it was nearly red, sticky with precum and still weeping. It curved upward, wanting to rest against his lower abdomen, and the darker blond hair there that grew at the base of him. He clearly kept it groomed, it not being too long or unkempt, but you were grateful it was there. The monstrous thing would probably only look more intimidating without it.

He could see that you were doing the same mental calculations he had seen in every partner he had ever had, and he tucked away the immature arrogant pride and chose to instead kiss the side of your mouth, along your jaw, and up to the shell of your ear,

“It’ll fit, you're already so wet for me, and if it doesn't fit all in one go, that's okay. We can work our way up to it. Trust me.” He kissed your neck soothingly, and that was all you needed. You could already feel yourself dampening again, you wanted so desperately to please him, had just made you cum so hard, you had to at least try to settle the score. Finding his lips once again, you pulled him into another desperate kiss, this time trailing your hand down and wrapping your hand around his cock. Using his already collected precum to coat his shaft, you moved your hand up and down a few times, trying to find the right rhythm before his hand gripped your wrist sternly, forcing you to look him in the eye,

“I nearly came already just from eating your pussy, if you touch me like that I’ll cum right now and I have to be inside of you at least once before then.” he moves your hand away from him and above your head. You keep it there, although direction is ungiven, and he seems pleased by this. He moves to his knees between your legs, Wrapping your legs around his waist, he grips his desperate cock and slides it against your pussy, collecting as much arousal as he can. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows how big he is, he knows if he bottoms out without enough prep it won’t feel good for you the way it would for him, he wants you to feel good. He wants you to make that sound again. That pretty scream of his name and pure pleasure. You watch him as he becomes laser focused on the point where you'll be connected in mere moments, you feel honored, in a way to see him like this. He’s being so attentive, so thoughtful and he's making you feel so good. Your hand reaches up and touches the side of his face, and he leans into your palm, nuzzling into it.

“I trust you, Kento. Please, baby, fill me up, I need you so bad, please fuck me.”

He presses a kiss to the heel of your hand, the light breaks in your voice making cock twitch in his own hand, he can’t wait any longer, he begins easing himself inside. He tries, he really tries to go as slow as he can, but hes so fucked out and desperate he cant control his movements as well as he usually would. Feeling him push inside of you, you’ve never been so full in your life, he stretches you so nicely, a slight burn but the combination of foreplay and your first orgasm soothe any pain or anxiety you may have had. His eyes are closed, his brows are furrowed, lips parted and still wet. He looks so beautiful like this. You think he's finally gotten all the way in as he stops his movements, you couldn't be more wrong, his hands lift your hips up slightly, more aligned with his pelvis and he slides back out an inch, before pushing the rest of his length inside of you. You feel him against your cervix, you feel him along every inch inside of you.

Looking down at you, he finally opens his eyes, you look so beautiful filled with him. Mouth dropped open, a warm flush settling over your chest and neck, one hand gripping his arm tightly, the other buried in the blanket beneath you. He wants to keep you like this forever, he attempts to push even deeper, seeing how far you can really take him. Gasping your back arches away from his grasp, but he pulls you back to him.

“Just like this, take it all. Look at you, such a good girl for me. Taking every inch.” His praise coaxes you to relax again. He's so deep inside of you, it feels amazing, “You think I can move now, baby?”

You nod desperately. He starts a slow thrust, opening you up little by little. He's hitting every spot inside of you, you don't know how but you can already feel another orgasm building from just the first few thrusts.

“How do you expect me to fuck you properly, when she wont let me go.” he teases above you, sliding his fingers in a V shape along your innermost fold, right where you’ve gripped around him so tightly.

“‘Mm sorry.” you gasp out barely registering the conversation.

“Oh fuck,” he sputters, finally able to pull completely out before diving back in.

Youre finally warmed up enough for him to fuck completely. He pulls on your legs to place over his shoulder as he deepens his thrusts. Your moans are syncing with his, his movements are starting to become jerky again, trying to control himself as much as possible, Kento brings a thumb to circle your clit making you see stars behind your eyelids, when you open your eyes the only thing you can see his him, gripping onto you leg firmly, staring intently at how well you’re taking him, watching himself move in and out of you. He feels you start to grow tighter around him before you can even start to whimper out,

“Fuck, fuck, kento I---aughhh.” you came around him with no warning,the feeling of you pussy spasming and tightening around him is nearly enough for him to lose his own. He releases a deep moan.

“Where can I cum, please baby, fuck where do you want me to cum, i’m so fucking close.” he can feel the sweat dripping down his face, he’s so dangerously close to blowing it inside of you. He wants to so badly, but he needs to hear you want him to.

“Inside, please, inside me, i need you to fill me up, please fuck.”

Music to his fucking ears, he carried on with his thrusts as you continue begging him to cum inside of you. Your wicked tongue is so dangerous, anything you asked of him in this moment he would do, as long as it meant he could stay like this forever. His thrusts grow shorter, faster, more frantic, he’s truly rutting against you, so deseperate for release the only word on his lips is a repetition of “fuck” and your name. It sounds so good coming from him, like he was born to say it. Finally, he lets out a long strangled cry, coming from low in his belly. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as his release covers your inner walls. He thrusts a few more times, emptying himself completely before stilling his movements, still locked inside of you.

Heavy pants fill the room, cutting through the thickened air. Nanami collapses over you, resting his head on your chest, the sound of your heart quickening underneath him cutting a smile into his face. You brush the front of his hair off his head once more, cycling your fingers through the sweat-dampened strands. Contented, satisfied sighs escaped both of you, neither of you spoke, neither of you wanted to, not wanting anything to break up this bliss of this moment.

Morning light dripped through your window curtains, golden rays illuminating his features, the freckles on his cheeks, the soft wrinkles by his eyes, a small scar cut into the arch of one eyebrow. He really was beautiful, you wondered how many people had gotten to see him like this. A man of his stature, his strength, completely unguarded. One of his large hands found yours, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your fingers, so sweet, so intimate. You really could fall in love with him. Finally, he looked up to face you, eyes catching the light and turning gold, he winced lightly, still feeling the sensitivity of his hangover. You flattened your palm in the path of the sun’s beam, offering his tender eyes solace in the shade. The gesture is short lived as he moves up to press his lips against yours again, his still buried cock shifting and igniting your inner nerves once again. Feeling you begin to tremble, Nanami wills himself to pull out and move onto his back next to you, one large arm wrapping around you, desperate to not be parted from you for even a second. You rest your forehead against the side of his neck snuggling up to his side. His smell fills your nose, the lingering cologne that you first smelled on the club’s crowded floor, mixed with something so uniquely and naturally him. You felt his lips press onto your forehead, arms pulling you tighter to his side.

Kento was the first to break the silence, “would you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

Your lips curve warmly already imagining how handsome he’ll look like in a nice restaurant, candlelight flicking over his face, maybe he’ll even wear his glasses.

“I’d love that.”

Author’s notes:

Okay thank you guys! I hope you enjoyed!I know I did, I know I said it earlie but I haven’t written in forever so I would love to hear some feedback! Don’t be scared, I know I can take it!

it’s up on Ao3 too.

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