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satorusugurugurl · 16 hours

Note

hiiiii!!! I love your work💗💗💗

Could you do giving the JJK men a honey pack lol

I keep seeing it on my fyp😂

JJK Men: It’s Just Honey—Right?

Summary: JJK Men are given a honey pack, an aphrodisiac, and a male enhancer! What could possibly go wrong?

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna(Modern AU), AFAB!Reader

Warnings: aphrodisiac use, smut, public play, language, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (F receiving), prone bone, multiple positions, multiple orgasms. Somno

Word Count: 8.7K

A/N: Nonnie, sorry this request took so long! It just sort of took on a mind of its own! I hope you enjoy it. I know I did! 🥴💚

Geto Suguru:

“Does stuff like this even work?” You asked as you lay on the bed in the love hotel you were stuck in.

You and Geto had gotten stuck in a typhoon, and instead of risking one of the assistant supervisor's safety, to come pick you up. You both decided staying in a hotel for the night would be best. The only problem was that the only hotel with rooms was a love hotel. Which, of course, wasn’t an issue for you both, seeing that you were dating happily but were stuck in a love hotel to see all sorts of exciting things.

A majority of the things you saw were related to sex, from sex toys, videos, and male enhancers. You have heard about more common ones like Viagra. But you had never seen one as a pack of honey before. You tossed it up in the air, catching it in your palm before tossing it back into the air, watching the foil package flip before landing back into the palm of your hand. Your boyfriend looked at you from his chair across the room with an amused smile.

“Is this your way of asking if I’ve taken enhancers in the past before?”

“What, no, never! I was just wondering if they work. I’ve never taken one before. I know they make some for women. I’m just lucky enough that I’ve never needed it.”

“Well, I can assure you that I’ve never needed to take one before myself.”

“Oh, trust me, I am well aware of that.”

Suguru placed his book down before taking a long look at you. You were nothing but booty shorts and his T-shirt. You looked good enough to eat right now, and your curiosity had piqued a curious interest of his own. No one was coming for you both until the morning, which meant you had time to kill—or better yet, time to screw each other‘s brains out.

“Hey, can I see that for a second?”

Not thinking much of your boyfriend’s request, you threw the package at him, your eyes glued to the ceiling before you heard a ripping sound. For a second, you thought maybe it had been your imagination. There was no way your boyfriend, who was very logical, ripped open the aphrodisiac honey, but there was the only way to be sure that he hadn’t done something like that; slowly, you turned your head as your boyfriend squeezed the entire package into his mouth, violet eyes watching you as he did so there was a dark, mischievous glee behind them as he stuck his tongue out, letting the honey drip all over his tongue.

You sputtered and blinked before opening and closing your mouth in disbelief. ”S-Suguru? What did you do?” Suguru’s pink tone darted out slowly, trailing over his bottom lip. Not once did his eyes leave yours.

“I’m conducting an experiment.”

“An experiment?”

“A majority of the time, stuff like this doesn’t work. It’s mostly for show, like a placebo for the brain. So we want to know if it works, so let’s put it to the test.”

It was safe to say that Suguru’s initial theory was wrong. The honey packet that he ingested was, in effect, a very real aphrodisiac. He was fine; one second, and the next, his cock was as hard as a diamond. Regret settled in his bones as he glanced back at you, who had taken notice of the tent in his pants. You didn’t say anything; instead, your actions spoke volumes. You took your shirt off by throwing it in his face, followed by your shorts and your underwear.

He swallowed, cheeks flushing, a dusty rose before he was up in on you like green on grass. The normal foreplay and preparation he always carefully took was the furthest thing on his mind. All he could focus on was how hard his cock hurt. It throbbed painfully as he tugged his pants down, freeing his erection—the tip red with rage as he spit into his hand, lubing it up.

“Need you.” he snarled, “I fucking need you.”

Suguru didn’t even give you a chance to respond to him. Because the second you opened your mouth, he had flipped you over onto your stomach while he laid flat on top of pressing the head of covk against your tight entrance. You shuddered, gripping the sheets as he slammed into you, gritting his teeth as he buried his face in the space between your shoulder blades. The sensation of his hot breath against your cool skin sent shivers throughout your body, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

Your boyfriend had lost it. He had entirely completely and irrefutably lost his composure. And you weren’t at all upset about it.

“Fuuuck!” You cried out as he set a brutal pace. “S-Sugu—-!”

“Need you.” He repeated in an almost primal growl. “I need all of you!”

You squeaked out a whimper as he sank his teeth into your shoulder before leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys all along your skin. He was marking you up, claiming you as his and his alone. The need that seeped out of his being through his actions and words left you feeling dizzy.

“S-Sugu!”

“Ahhn! Fuck! Princess.”

Watching him lose control like this, feeling him pressing against you in the rawest way, had your eyes rolling back as he forced himself inside. Your muffled moans left Suguru's cock throbbing so hard inside of you that he was afraid he would cum right then in there. He wasn't sure if it was the honey, or his own desire, but he was losing himself at the feeling of being inside of you. You were so wet and tight, and god, you smelt heavenly.

This new-found lust, the desire, had him digging his hands into the sheets underneath you. The earthy musk had your head spinning, fueling your desire as if you had partaken of the honey yourself. You cried out as Suguru continued littering your skin with bites. It was so raw, so hot, and you were already on the edge.

“S-Sugu!” You cried out, feeling your walls clamping around him, squeezing him for all that he was worth. “Suguru I-I—!”

You didn't need to say those last few words as a curtain of dark hair fell around you. “I know,” Suguru grunted, pulling all the way out before slamming into you, making the bed creak under your combined weight. “I can feel it~ feel your tight walls convulsing; I feel you trying to hold back.” His lips pressed against your cheek, breath hot against your sweat-sheened skin. “Don't do that, baby~ I wanna feel you~ wanna make you feel good with my cock.” Your hips rolled shamelessly back against Suguru’s cock, his words egging you.

“C-Close—”

“Yeah, it feels good, doesn't it, Princess~? My thick cock stretching you out, making you feel so good?”

“M-Mhmm!” Your toes curled, breathing quickening as Suguru used all of his strength to fuck you into the mattress. “F-Fuck! I-I’m gonna! Gonna!”

“Yeah— cum for me, baby! Cum all over my cock.”

His words alone, dark and needy, sent you tumbling over the edge. You screamed into the pillow, crying tears of ecstasy as your orgasm was ripped out of you. It was violent and oh-so-tucking good, leaving you a convulsing mess underneath your boyfriend, who shuddered, cock throbbing inside of you. Warmth flooded your pussy as he came, the hot spurt filling you, but not once did Suguru stop. He kept going fucking into you like a crazed animal, stopping you as you weakly tried pulling away.

Once he stopped, you shakily lifted your head out of the sheets, crying out softly as his still-hard cock twitched inside of you. It seemed as though the package wasn't lying about enhancing male performance. Your boyfriend had just filled you up and was raring to go for another round, which was both alluring and terrifying at the same time.

“You okay?” Suguru questioned, voice gravely in your ear as he gently peppered your skin with kisses. You swallowed hard, trying to alleviate the burning in your throat. “Good.”

Without a warning, Suguru slowly began thrusting in and out of you. He kept his pace soft and sweet to not overstimulate you. But before you knew it, those soft, slow thrusts were replaced with the mean, bullying backshots he had just given you. He kept that pace up for over an hour. Face down, ass up on the mattress. His cock had been so hard that it hurt, and no matter how many times he had cum inside of you, it didn't feel like it was enough.

Until he was the one suffering from the overstimulation. He was panting and crying against your lips as his cock throbbed inside of you, draining the last of his cum inside of your wet and willing hole. Both of you were completely gone at that point. Nothing more than a heap of twitching muscles as Suguru lay down, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

“Y-You good?” You asked in between gasps.

Suguru swallowed hard, reaching for a water bottle on the side of the bed and handing it to you. “S-So fucking good—“ Suguru sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you tight against his side. “I-I think that e-experiment was a success.” You swallowed the last gulp before handing the half bottle to your boyfriend.

“A success indeed.” He slowly reached for his phone, texting on the screen with a lazy smirk. “And it’s an experiment gonna get me out of some paperwork.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna tell Satoru about it. Get out of some work for a while.”

“Oooh, texting your ‘boyfriend’ after you just put me in ninety-nine positions?” There was a joking tone to your teasing, but your boyfriend scoffed, sitting up to hover over you.

He pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. “I’m texting my best friend this so I can get out of extra work and spend that free time with you—” he reached for the nightstand waving the other honey pack in your face. “and the honey pack.”

“Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Text him!”

Gojo Satoru:

You had been minding your business, watching some trashy reality TV show, when a box was tossed on the coffee table. You pull your eyes away from the screen long enough to watch a flash of white blur before Satoru plopped down on the ground. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate. He snickered, rubbing his hands together as he looked the box over. Something was going on, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to participate.

But your curiosity got the better, urging you to find out why your boyfriend was in such a good mood. “What are you up to, Toru?” Your body almost moved as you kicked your blanket off, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Suguru and I made a bet.”

Yeah, if it were a bet between the two idiots, you definitely would not want to participate in this with them.

“What is with the two of you making bets against each other?” Satoru lost his hearing when it came to that comment. “Baby, what even is this?”

To answer your question, he ripped the tape off the box opening it up. Reaching his hand inside, he pulled out a pouch. The words ‘Honey Package’ were written in red, with hearts surrounding it. Before you could even begin telling Gojo, you had no intentions of taking whatever was in it. He flipped it over, resting it against the palm of his hand, revealing the clear backside of the package. Inside was a thick amber-colored liquid, which looked just like honey.

“This is like Viagra, but in honey form.”

“Satoru, keeping up with your stamina already is nearly too much. There’s no way you need to take one of those!”

“Ooh, please, you love my stamina. It keeps up with your sex drive.” He wasn't wrong about that at all. “Besides, there’s no way this shit works.”

Oh, well, this conversation took off in a completely different direction. “Huh?” You blinked, eyeing the package as Satoru squished it in his hand, using it like a stress ball. “Wait, you don’t think it’s gonna work?” Cerulean eyes almost glimmered with annoyance as they darted in your direction.

“Baby, these aphrodisiacs never work. What happens is you eat a bunch of strawberry chocolate, and you think that it’s an aphrodisiac urging you to fuck. This right here.” The foil packaging crumpled slightly. He ripped up one of the corners. “Is some rich assholes gimmick to try to make a bunch of money. These Influencers get a free sample and act like they fuck all night. They make a commission off of it. So yes, I don’t think it works.”

“But Suguru does? I thought for sure it would be the other way around.”

“Yeah, this is gonna be the easiest bet I’m gonna win.” You hummed, watching as Satoru squeezed the honey into his mouth. “I’m going to make him every single dessert from the many of the newest cafés downtown.”

“And what does he get if you lose?”

“Bragging rights, and I would have to do all his paperwork for an entire week.”

Satoru sighed constantly at the thought of syncing his teeth into some delicious sweets as he tossed the empty package onto the table before kicking his feet out in front of him, placing his hands behind his head. He had this in the bag, no doubt about that.

It only took thirty minutes to pass.

You were the first to notice something wasn't quite right with your loving boyfriend. He looked flushed; his hands gripped the sofa cushions for dear life, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. You decided it would be best for you to keep an eye on him in case he had some kind of reaction to the honey. It could be dangerous to take enhancers like that, not knowing what sort of effect they would have on the person. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick.

Another ten minutes passed, and Satoru threw his jacket off along with his pants, leaving him in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers. Although he had put himself in this state, you hated seeing him in such discomfort. With a heavy sigh, you got on your knee and pressed your hand against his forehead. He was hot to the touch, and you needed to lower his temperature.

“Toru, sweetie, let's get you in the shower, okay?” He panted heavily, cloudy crystalline blue eyes meeting yours. “We'll take a cool shower to get your temperature down.”

“I—-need—”

You frowned, leaning closer toward his mouth. “What was that? You need what?” Satoru's pretty lips quivered before his hand flew up, grabbing you by the arms and pushing you against the sofa. “T-Toru.” Your boyfriend towered above you, panting heavily as he looked you up and down with a growl, his erection throbbing in his boxers.

“I need you.” He growled, his hand reaching down, squeezing his cock. “I need you so bad; it hurts, baby. Please, please, I need you.”

Two things were clear to you at that moment. One, your boyfriend would be doing a ton of paperwork for the next month, and second, you were in for a fight for your life. The logical part of your brain told you to run; he had put himself in this situation so he could deal with it on his own. The other more empathetic part of you once against hated seeing him suffering.

Against all logical reasoning, you sighed, reaching down and tugging your shorts and panties off.

“You're not ever taking this shit again.” You Pulled him up, heading to the bedroom, where you shoved him down on the bed. “This shit has you all hot, chemicals and stuff.”

“It’s all organic.” He barked out, pulling you down onto the mattress with him. “It’s not so much bad as it’s well—” he trailed his fingers up the curves of your breasts. “It’s different,” Gojo finally whispered, his hand mimicking slowly moving up along your collarbone, sliding down the swell of your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat as he began massaging them, “And different isn't always a bad thing.” he nipped at your ear.

Gojo’s fingers slid further down, tracing circles around your nipples. They hardened automatically, causing you to arch your back at the sensations. Perhaps he was right—maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be. You moaned, running your hand over Gojo’s crotch, palming at his already throbbing erection. Your moans and Gojo’s growls of pleasure began mixing, making it sound as though there was a promo playing in the background. But there wasn't; it was just you and your very hornh boyfriend.

“Fuck I need to touch you, Sweetie.” He said in a barely audible tone against the crook of your neck, “God, I need to. Need to be inside of you.” His hand slid further down, teasing your mound with careful fingers. As he did, he nipped and sucked on your neck, leaving you whimpering as you straddled him. You bucked your hips into his hand, craving more of his touch, wanting to feel his skin on your intimate parts.

“Toru, don’t tease me.” you begged through moans as you slid your hand into his boxers, “touch me baby.” Satoru hisses as you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and stroke him up and down. The contact had Gojo growling like a wild beast, thrusting into your hand, his fingers slipping further down until his entire hand was cupping your dripping sex.

You felt as though you were high off the honey as you inhaled sharply when his fingers slid up and down the lips of your pussy. “Holy shit, Sweetheart,” he growled lustfully in your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Those long sinful fingers of his rubbed circles around your clit, causing you to gasp, “Mhmm, and it’s all for me.”

“And you’re so hard, Gojo,” you managed to whisper, “n-not that you aren't hard all the time. But you're fuck, you're so hard!” You began rubbing the pad of your thumb over the slit of his cock, “So fucking hard.” Pre-cum smeared over the sensitive head, leaving him moaning loudly as he dipped his fingers inside of you, pumping them. He watched as you peered up at him, moaning, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer.

Your boyfriend pressed his forehead against yours as he kept pumping his fingers. The fucking honey was enhancing everything he felt. The adoration for you, the lust, fuck he had never been this horny in his entire life. He let those feelings fuel him, helping him move as the two of you worked each other towards extraordinary mind-blowing orgasm.

Gojo curled his fingers, brushing them across your g-spot. You gasped loudly, squeezing his cock, causing him to growl loudly, pumping faster and harder against that sweet spot. You did your best to hold out as long as you could; you didn't want to cum too soon.

“Sweetheart,” Gojo licked your earlobe, nibbling it between his teeth. “Cum for me.” When he told you to do so, that was a different story.

You came hard, rocking against his fingers. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Gojo kept moving his fingers, extending your orgasm. Your toes curled into the sheets as you arched your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. Gojo kept moving, not stopping until you were panting, basking in the afterglow of your release. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the lust-filled cerulean eyes of your boyfriend. He was staring at you, stroking your mound lazily.

“Toru,” you tugged at his shirt, “I need you to fuck me right now.” He was happy to oblige, stripping his shirt off and throwing it on the side of the bed before Gojo rolled, pushing you back against the mattress and hovering over you. He looked like he was seconds away from cumming, so you decided it would be best for you to take control, so you quickly rolled, flipping him back over so you were straddling him.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” His voice was as grave as he groaned, gripping your hips as you lowered yourself onto his impressive cock. You shivered, resisting the urge to start riding him right then and there and opting to enjoy the feeling of him stretching you out. “Sweetie,” Satoru groaned, squeezing your hips. “Nngh!!” the honey had him desperate, wanting to fuck, so for you just to sit there, not moving, was literal torture. “Holy nngh! Fuck please, ride me already. You’re killing me here!” He thrusts up, causing you to gasp, making you bounce up and down. “That’s more like it.”

You nodded, grabbing your boyfriend's hands and sliding up the curves of your body before placing them on your breasts. Understanding your silent request, Satoru massaged and kneaded them, brushing his thumb and index fingers over your sensitive nipples. You whimpered, rocking your hips, his cock hitting your g-spot with every rock of your hips. Gojo sat up, thrusting eagerly to meet your rhythm.

You dig your fingers into Gojo’s fluffy tufts of pristine white hair, pulling him close to your breasts. He took the hint, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging, sucking, and nipping at it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His fingers dug into the small of your back; you were pretty sure you were going to have bruises there tomorrow.

With each thrust from Gojo, you grew closer and closer, chasing your orgasm. Gojo's mouth continued to assault your nipples, teasing them ever so slightly. By this time, you and Gojo's moans groans, and growls of pleasure flooded the room. The two of you were so loud you were positive the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you.

But you didn't give a fuck about that.

All that mattered was how good Satoru felt. How your nails dug into his back, scratching at his flawless skin as he thrusts deeper and harder inside of you. You let out screams, digging your nails deeper into his skin as he flips the two of you over. Gojo stares at you before slamming his lips on yours. His tongue is fighting against yours for dominance. He growls, thrusting faster and deeper inside you.

“Toru, I’m gonna cum!” You gasped, gripping his hair and staring into his stunning eyes. He stares back into yours; he smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, kissing your lips softly.

“Cum for me, sweetie,” he mutters against your lips, “Haaah~ fuck yes, cum for me, cum with me.” He pounded ruthlessly into you, gripping the headboard and slamming into your g-spot.

You wrapped your legs around his digging your heels in his ass and pulling him deeper. And it sends you over the edge, you gasp, your orgasm rippling through you. You tighten around Gojo, and he groans, burying his face in your neck as he thrusts a few more times before following you over the edge, cumming inside you.

You lay there, Gojo’s weight crushing you, but you don't mind. After taking a second to catch his breath, he chuckled softly, pulling out of you before laying on his back, placing you flat on his chest. He took a deep breath, running his finger through your hair. You turned your head, resting it over his heart with a dorky smile.

“That was—”

“Amazing,” Gojo finished for you. That was amazing.” You giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Beyond amazing.”

“Mhmm.”

“Hey Gojo?” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” You bite your bottom lip, kissing up his chest.

“Do you have any more of that, honey? I wanna try some with you.” You felt him tense. He grinned quickly, placing you on the side before he stood up, running out of the room and grabbing a package off the counter.

“Have as much as you like!” as you ripped the package open with your teeth, Satoru lifted your legs placing them over his shoulders as he kissed your inner thighs “Sit back and relax while you wait for it to kick in.” You swallowed the sweet liquid in your mouth before reaching down and running your hands through Gojo’s soft tufts of hair as he dragged his tongue up your slit. “I can keep myself entertained for now.”

Nanami Kento:

With Nanami working so many hours and you staying home caring for your daughter. You and Nanami hardly have any time alone anymore. Sure, you were able to sneak a date here and there—a quickie in the morning before he had to go to work. The romance, sex, and relationship were planned now. But Nanami missed the spontaneous sex; he missed laying in bed with you, hearing your gasps and moans. Feeling the way you would clamp down on him when you came.

God, he missed the sex.

Nanami sighed, running a hand over his face as he unlocked the door to your house. All the lights were off, meaning you had most likely put your daughter to bed, seeing that it was close to three in the morning. Kento dropped his keys and messenger bag on the entry table before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Sitting on the counter was a loaf of homemade bread and a package of honey. Kento cocked an eyebrow as he approached the treat that had been left out for him. A sticky note with your handwriting on it was next to the bread.

‘It must have been a long day~ enjoy this aphrodisiac honey, and wake me up in the sweetest way you can. You have his full consent even if I’m asleep. Much Love— your wife!’

Kento reread the note several times before eyeing the honey. Aphrodisiac honey? He had heard you mention it before. You suggested trying one of these weekends when you both had time together, which might be a fun treat. And he was tired and stressed from a long day. He couldn't deny how his pants tightened at the thought of waking you up horny and completely needy.

Kento sliced himself a piece of bread without much thought before smearing it with the honey. It was surprisingly good. Most aphrodisiacs he had heard of had an odd taste to them. This tasted like honey bread. And that in itself was dangerous.

Kento managed to eat two slices of honey bread before he began feeling the effects working its way down to his cock. He wanted you, and seeing that you had given him your consent, he planned on having you. Not wanting to waste any more time, Kento headed up the stairs, gripping the railing. He quickly stopped into the nursery next to your bedroom to check on your daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. Nanami smiled, brushing back a cur of her hair before leaning down and kissing her forehead before heading into the master bedroom.

The lamp on your side of the bed was still on. It looked like you had fallen asleep while reading a book, and now you are resting on your chest. Kento leaned against the front of the bed, watching his wife sleep peacefully. Your chest moved up and down as you dreamed away. Your beautiful hair was sprawled against the pillow as the low light of the lamp illuminated your beautiful body. Your soft skin was complimented by your navy nightgown that hugged your curves perfectly. God, he was so lucky to have you in his life.

You muttered something, moaning softly as you dreamed. That sound had Nanami’s cock twitching as you rolled on your back, completely exposing your body to him. The honey seemed to take over his body. He had to have you right now. With a glance back at the nursery, Nanami decided to go through with his horny desires. He made quick work of shedding out of his clothes. If he was quiet enough, maybe he could get away with a midnight snack before he went to bed without waking your daughter.

Kento crawled under the sheets and comforter, slowly making his way up the bed. He listened to his wife for any sign that you had woken up, but you were still fast asleep. When he finally reached your feet, he began placing kisses on both of them, gently spreading your legs open as he made his way closer and closer to her pussy. Nanami nipped and sucked at your inner thighs, dragging his slight stubble on his chin over your soft skin.

He could never get over how soft your skin was. Or how you shivered under his lips, How you were wet with the slightest touch of his hands and lips. The honey was making his head whirl as he finally met your cunt. Ever so slowly, Nanami dragged his tongue along the folds of your pussy, moaning at your sweet taste. You were sweeter than the honey he had eaten. You were wet and delicious, so of course, he found himself reaching up and grabbing your hips as he pulled himself closer to your pussy, desperately wanting to taste more of you against his tongue.

“Mmm,” you whimpered in your sleep, moving slightly under his touch. That slight movement left Kento licking faster, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking in it hard. Your hips buckled slightly as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against you. “K-Ken.” you exhaled softly, rocking your hips roughly as you dreamed.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your folds, sliding two fingers inside of you. When he breached the tight ring of muscles, he began pumping them, and suddenly, the sheets flew back. Nanami looked up at you, seeing flushed cheeks as you propped yourself up on your elbows, staring down at your husband.

“K-Kento, what are you doing?” you whispered between moans as he pumped his fingers faster, “Oh his God.” you groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hand reached down, gripping his hair, tugging it as he continued to kiss you. “Y-You found the h-honey!”

“Mhmm,” he moaned against you, moving his head back and forth, curling his fingers inside of you, moving them in the ‘come hither’ motion. “And it was delicious~ but my Love, you’re far sweeter.” Your hips bucked forward as you began convulsing around his fingers. Nanami could hear your breathing in fast, quiet pants as you tried to control your volume. Knowing he had that kind of effect on you had him smirking against your pussu, feeling you come undone over his slightest touches; God, the honey had already affected him, but you turned him on even more.

“K-Kento— I-I’m gon-” you could barely get out the rest of the sentence as his lips took your clit into his mouth again, and he sucked at you relentlessly. Pulling out gasps and earth-shattering moans that had him grinding against your mattress. Your hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the screams that threatened to escape. The last thing either of you wanted was to wake your daughter

Your left hand tangled in his blonde locks, tugging on it as you came against his mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure shook your body as he continued sucking; his honey-brown eyes were dull from the amount of pleasure of watching you cum. God, he fucking loved you.

You panted roughly, slowly releasing your grasp on his hair. This allowed him to pull away, licking his lips before pulling his fingers out of you with a hiss. You shivered, watching as he slowly stuck his fingers into his mouth, sensually licking them clean. The seductive act left you staring at him as if he were one of the world's wonders. Seeing the hunger in your eyes, Nanami chuckled.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you had eaten the honey.” He popped his fingers back into his mouth, watching as you slowly licked your lips before reaching up and cupping his face. Nanami followed your needy movements, letting you bring his face down to yours, kissing you deeply while pulling him down on top of you and trapping him there, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Kento,” you whispered against his lips as he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Need you.” You nipped your teeth at his bottom lip. He moaned, slamming his lips against you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His tongue moved against yours, massaging it as you rocked your hips against his crotch. He was so hard; he needed more of you. Nanami trailed his hands over the curves of your body, reaching for the front of your nightgown, kneading at your breasts.

You arched into his touch as he pulled your nightgown down, exposing your breasts to him. He took one of your perky nipples into his mouth and began sucking on your breast, tugging at it with his teeth, drawing out a long, loud moan from you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to suck and nip at you. Nanami groaned as your hands slowly trailed down his back, tugging his boxers off, allowing his erection to spring free from her confinements. Your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with your hand softly. Kentowas already hard, but your touch made him even harder. He was eager for more, wanting to plunge into your slickened folds.

“Enough teasing,” you whispered against his neck as you trailed kisses down it, “I’m more than ready for you now.” you nipped at his skin, spreading your legs for him, “I want you, Kento.” How could he deny you? He made quick work pulling your nightgown off completely before kicking his boxers off. He hovered over you, cupping your face as he kissed you again.

“I love you, darling.” he whispered, grabbing his cock with his free hand and stroking it slightly, “Fuck, I love you so much; I missed you.”

“Show me how much you missed me,” you whispered breathlessly, staring into his honey-brown eyes. “Show me, Ken.”

As you commanded, he slowly began sliding inside of her. He groaned, feeling your juices coat the head of his cock. Kento bit down on his lip, trying to control himself. The honey had made his body overly sensitive. He can control himself. He watched her instead, enjoying the face you made. Her mouth opened slightly, and your cheeks flushed. You were such a beautiful woman. And this lovely woman had her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer towards your center.

“More,” You whispered through a moan, “I need more of you.” he nodded, kissing you lovingly as he slid deeper inside of you, his cock nestled deep inside of your pussy, hitting your cervix. “F-Fuck—” Kento paused for a moment, but only a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before he began slamming in and out of you. “Y-Yes, oh fuck yes, Ken!.” you cried out, which was quickly silenced as Nanami placed his fingers over your lips.

“Shh, you’ll wake her up.” you mewled, nodding as you pursed your lips together as Nanami began thrusting slowly. He groaned as you lifted your hips in time with him, making his pace quicken. Your gasps and moans meddled in with the creaking bed. A symphony of pleasure that only made Nanami more eager. The honey made you look even more delicious as you arched your back, begging for more. To which he happily complied. Nanami’s hands slowly slid between your bodies. You bit down on your lip as his thumb instantly found your clit.

“Kento!” you gasped as his thumb lazily began tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Which resulted in your bucking as he began slamming into you. Kento’d cock was painfully hard, but it didn't stop him from ramming against your g-spot with every thrust. In no time, your walls began clamping down on him.

“Fuck Love, you feel so good, baby.” He gasped loudly, thrusting deeper inside of you. His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumb and forefinger gripped and twisted your nipples, all while he trailed kisses down your neck, letting the aphrodisiac lead him. Your hands gripped his ass, gasping loudly as you whispered his name.

Kento felt the pleasure building inside his lower abdomen, like a coil tightening in his stomach. He was close. And from the way you were rocking against him, how you threw your head back, moaning softly, he knew you were close too. His fingers began rubbing your clit in faster and harder as he thrust quickly as fast as he could. Listening to the sound of you whimpering on a strangled gasp as he moved his hand to cover your mouth.

“That’s my girl, cum for me, cum all over me, baby.” you nodded, moaning loudly against his hand as you clamped down on your husband's cock. Your orgasm hits you hard, coating Nanami’s cock with your juices. Feeling you cumminf so hard left Nanami growling, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his thrusts less rhythmed as he fell over the edge following your orgasm. You could feel it as he came deep inside of you. But not once did his hips stop. They kept thrusting as your pussy milked me dry, making him spill his seed deep inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, removing his hand from your mouth. The two of you lay there panting in the haze of our orgasms. After a few moments to breathe, Nanami looked at you, smirking as he kissed your lips gently, winning a kiss back from you.

“Welcome home,” you smiled, gently stroking his cheek. It looks like the honey worked.”

“Mhmm, you should order us some more.” He nuzzled your neck, winning a giggle from his wife.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You kissed his head as he rolled over, holding you in his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Darling. God, I love you so much.” he whispered against your hair, inhaling the scent of your favorite shampoo. “I’m so happy to be home.” he muttered as you snuggled close to him. The two of you lay there in bliss before you finally fell asleep in his arms. Kento grinned, kissing your head before closing his eyes and following you into dreamland.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Ehem!” your boyfriend groaned, clearing his throat for the thousandth time that morning. “Fuck, my throat is so scratchy.”

You gave him a smile as he drank some water. “ I told you screaming would hurt your throat.” Sukuna narrowed crimson eyes at you, but he didn’t argue because you had, in fact, warned him about that last night at the concert. “And just so you know, water isn’t going to help with that.” this time, your boyfriend scoffed, raising a pierced at you as he placed his glass down on the counter.

“Oh, and what makes you say that?”

“Because I am medically trained, " you said, placing the kettle on the stove and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Hot tea will be better to ease that scratchy feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

While the kettle was slowly heating up, you searched the pantry, grabbing a teabag and the honey. Only you found no honey left, well, not enough for honey tea. You would have to remember to add that to the list the next time you go to the grocery store. But luckily for you, you had luck at the bachelorette party you had gone to the weekend before. The entryway dug through your purse, pulling out the goodie bag you were given when you left. Of the goodie bag was a mixture of penis-shaped candy condoms that were too small for your boyfriend and a package of honey. Which you had assumed was reserved for food. But the food place would have to wait. Easing Sukuna’s discomfort was more important than pleasure.

When the kettle finally went off, whistling to let you know it was ready, you hurried back into the kitchen. Sukuna watched as he poured the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Let the tea steep for five minutes and then pour this into it,” you instructed, tossing the package at him.

“Honey pack?” Sukuna asked as he caught it with ease, reading the label. He turned it over, examining the contents before shrugging his shoulder. “Alright, whatever you say. You are the medically trained one.” you fought back a laugh as you leaned over the counter, pressing your lips against his. “Have a good day at work, oh-so-well-trained-one.”

“I will dork; I love you.”

“Ditto.”

When you made it to work, you gushed to your coworkers about the concert Sukuna had taken you to the night before. He somehow managed to get tickets to your favorite band and got you VIP seating. The night had been one of the best nights of your life. You both had gotten drunk and screamed to the songs at the top of your lungs before passing out back at his apartment. It has been so much fun and you would never forget it.

“You are so in love with him.” Your work Bestie laughed as you dreamily sighed, wishing the clock would move faster.

“I am; he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You were a second away from getting up to room a patient when you heard thundering footsteps approaching your desk. Quickly, looking over your shoulder, your manager and one of the receptionists approached you. You could tell there was something wrong from the panicked look on their faces.

You pushed away from your desk, pressing back the rising fear within you. “What happened?”

“Your boyfriend is here in the lobby. He’s asking for you, saying there’s an emergency. Grab your stuff and go. I’m going to clock you out,” your manager said as you began collecting your things.

You began running through the office, slamming the doors to the lobby open. Did something happen to his brothers? Was Yuuji okay at school? Or did something happen to Choso? There were so many different scenarios that could’ve happened. You need to get out of here fast. You picked up your pace bursting through the open door finding Sukuna waiting for you. His chest was rising and falling; his cheeks were slightly flushed as if he had run the entire way to your building. When those crimson eyes met yours, he moved, grabbed your hand, and tugged you out of the office.

You held onto him, running to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he wanted to get to a more intimate place to tell you what was happening. When you made it into the parking garage, you saw his car waiting a few rows back. You quickly opened the front door to the passenger seat, but the door didn’t open entirely as Sukuna touched it, slamming it shut.

“Kuna?”

“Get in the back.”

His voice was hoarse and full of need. A raw need that had heat pooling between your thighs. “H-Huh?” your question went unanswered as his eyebrow twitched and evident frustration.

“I said get in the fucking backseat.” to emphasize his point, he opened the door to the back, pushing you towards it.

You quickly crawled into the backseat without any other swelling as you turned your head to look at him. He was even heavier than when he was in your office. His cheeks were a darker shade of red as he growled at the side of you, sprawled against his backseat. Your eyes down his body and find his gray sweats too tight around the crotch, and that source of the tightness twitched. Did he seriously pull you out of work because he was horny?!

“K-Kun—what the fuck is happening? My boss said it was an emergency.”

You scooted back, watching as Sukuna ducked his head, joining you in the backseat and slamming the door behind him. “What was I supposed to say? hey I need you to send my girlfriend home because my cock feels like it’s going to explode.” He reached for you, tugging your scrub pants down tossing them into car's front seat. “I don’t think she would’ve been so keen on you leaving for that reason.” your underwear was suddenly his next target as they were ripped off using all of his strength.

“W-What happened to you? You couldn’t help but giggle at the desperation in his movements. “I just left like an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, I started feeling fucking weird after you left.” He pulled his sweats down enough to free himself. His cock bounced, the tip leaking pre-cum as he pulled you into his lap, spitting into his hand, lubing up his cock. “It didn’t make a lot of sense as to why I felt so fucking horny until I put it together.”

Straddle his hips, gripping onto his shoulders. “And what did you manage to put together, Kuna?” he grabbed your hips, forcing you down onto him without so much as a warning, drawing out a gasp from you as he hissed.

“That Honey Pack you gave me is an aphrodisiac.”

Suddenly, it became very clear as to why they would include that in a goodie bag at a bachelorette party. Those thoughts,s however, were suddenly clouded with pleasure as Sukuna dug his fingers into your hips, beginning to jackhammer up into your dripping cunt. “Fuck!” You cried out, throwing your head back and leaving your neck exposed. Your boyfriend took the opportunity to bite into your neck with an almost feral snarl as his hips kept bucking up into you at a nearly inhuman speed. “O-Oh my god fuck!!”

“Mmphm~.” he pulled away, running his tongue over the Mark. He had left on your skin. The chill of his tongue piercing left you shivering above him on his lap. “You have no clue how hard it was for me to control myself, and I saw you running towards me back there. I nearly lost a little control. I had on myself and fucked you right there in the lobby.”

“O-Oooh, oooh nngh.”

Sukuna, even in his horny thoughts, felt you clench around him at his words. “Oh, what was that? Would you like that, you dirty fucking slut? Do you want me to fuck you in public in front of all your coworkers? Then they would know you aren't this innocent little medical assistant. They would know you’re my dirty fucking slut.” you clenched harder around him. “Oh my God, you would like that!”

“K-Kuna!”

“That’s not an answer,” he growled, fisting your hair, yanking your head to the side, exposing the other side of your neck. “Use your words Kitten.” his teeth sank into the other side of your neck as he bullied his cock deeper inside of you, rubbing the tip greedily against your cervix in an almost painful way, but the pleasure overwhelmed the pain.

“Yes!! Yes, I want that! I want you!”

Hearing you say that caused the last cord of strength in Sukuna to snap. He moved with a certain despite being cramped in the back of his car. Your back hit the seat, knocking the air out of your lungs as the head of his cock slammed against your cervix harder. When you looked up at him, you whimpered. Something instinctual told you to submit to the much larger predator above you. Your body wanted it to give into him, allowing him to have his way with you.

Sukuna growled, his pierced tongue slowly over his bottom lip as those dark, lust-filled eyes watched you tremble underneath him. He had to have you. And every way he possibly could. Sukuna pulled out, groaning at the feeling of your inner walls, attempting to prevent him from leaving, but they didn’t need to try to stop him because he had no intention of pulling out.

“My dirty slut.” Sukuna growled as he slammed back into using all of his strength. “Wantk g fuck him in front of your coworkers in front of a bunch of strangers.” he leaned over you, pressing his lips against yours. “Even if that were something you would want, I would never do that. Because I would kill anyone who looked at you like that.”

“N-Nnngh—oh—fuck!”

Your wall squeezed around him hugging his cock tight. “Are you squeezing down on me because it turns you on to know how I’m so possessive over you?” you weakly nodded, crying out softly as you tried and failed to kiss him. Your moans are spilling out, preventing you from moving your lips against his and the way you wanted. “Awe, Kitten~ you can’t even talk because you’re feeling so good.” another nod. “Haah~ such a good girl for me just lay back and feel good while I use your pussy okay?”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the powerful thrusts that came next. Sukuna grabbed your hips, holding them down as he fucked into you like you were a flashlight. The car rocked with each slam of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin was almost as loud as the growls and moans that sounded from you both. Sweat coated your low, lower body as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your boyfriend could feel it, too. Feel the way your nails dug into his forearms, how you’re pretty legs trembled with your building orgasm. He watched you slowly coming undone, and that sight only pressed him to go further.

All of his control vanished as he fucked into you like he hated you. “K-Kuna!” You screamed, eyes watering as he reached up, choking your eyes, shutting tight. “G-Gonna—oh fuck I-I’m gonna!” Sukuna's thumb found your clit rubbing it, giving you that final push you were needing.

“Then fucking cum Kitten~”

You came hard and fast. The pleasure hitting you in the most wonderful way. Sukuna watched from above, grunting at the feeling of you squirting all over his cock. That sensation had him lurching forward as his own orgasm hit him. His cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as he came. Your mouth fell at the feeling of his cum filling you. It was so warm, and you hummed happily, giggling as Sukuna fell on top of you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Uuugh.”

“Uugh?” You laughed breathlessly, your fingers tracing over the tattoos that were etched into his face. “That’s a first.”

“Y-Yeah fuck whatever, we need to hurry.” He whispered affectionately against your kiss-swollen lips. “G-Gonna be hard again. We need to get home.”

“Oh? Really what-aahnn—” Your question was lost with a moan as Sukuna grabbed your earlobe, tugging it roughly, teasing your weak spot. “Fuck!”

“I plan on taking you home and fucking until both of us pass out or whenever my dick stops working.” you know damn well he meant every single word. “You wanted to take such good care of me this morning. You still can. But I don’t need you to make me tea. I need to fuck you in every way I can.” You moaned, squirming in anticipation of what was to come when you got home. “But before we get home and start our fuck-fest, I need you to do something for me when we get home.”

“What do you need, Ku-nnngh!” his lips sealed around your ear, gently sucking and kissing on it.“Holy fuckin’ fuck!”

“I need you to order us some more of this honey~” he didn’t need to tell you twice. You proudly subscribe to the monthly subscription box. Because having him lose all of his composure was something you definitely wanted to experience again and again.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks

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sometimesanalice · 3 days

Text

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they go. You aren't jealous, it’s just getting hard to ignore. It’s a good thing they're more than happy to remind you just who you belong with.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues. You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye.

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder. “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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backinmyphase · 1 day

Text

Not alone

Synopsis: After your horrible introduction to each other, Satoru and you have finally time to get to know each other on your honeymoon now. That's everything that is happening - surely right?

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2800 words

Series Masterlist

I want to thank all of you for the support and the comments, I'm so happy other people like my writing <33 Anyway I hope you like it!

"I can't believe I really listened to you. What am I doing?"

Gojo grinned to himself and went on as if he didn't hear you.

"To the trainstation, please." He handed the cab driver the destination and sat next to you in the back instead of the front.

And suddenly his body was so close, his presence became impossible to not notice.

"I'm so happy to be able to convince you." He looked out of the window.

He sat so relaxed, legs stretched apart and his body lying comfortably in the seat. How could he be so relaxed?

"They'll freak out. Kill me. And then wipe out my clan. In that order."

Gojo laughed. "Sure they will."

"They really could." You shook your head and looked out the window on your side.

"No, they couldn't. They don't dare do anything to you." His voice was full of confidence.

'If only you knew what they dare to do.' You thought about the letters. 'If only you knew.

"Just forget about them, okay?" You felt his body turn towards you. "It's always just higher ups this, clan that. Just try to relax."

"Yeah, yeah." you whispered and look outside. You could see the pitiful look of the driver from the side mirror outside the car.

What were you thinking? This morning you somehow thought that it wouldn't be so bad to just leave. And Gojo looked at you so full of expectation that you didn't want to disappoint him.

But now?

The only thing you could see as you closed your eyes was the disapproving face of your mother. She wouldn't have done anything that would damage the clan's reputation.

And on top of that the panic began to settle.

You were on your honeymoon. Alone. With your husband. It the higher ups don't kill you, well, they will at least expect a child. Or expect you to expect a child. Doesn't matter.

You couldn't even breath near Gojo out of panic, how could you sleep with him?

He yawned loudly, breaking you away from your thoughts. His eyes half lidded open, he stretched his arms.

Maybe it wasn't just the panic.

You looked outside again to hide the on creeping redness on your face. It just wasn't fair. You weren't made for this, weren't made to be Gojo's wife. He just was so… Gojo and you were… Well you.

The two of you just don't make a good pair.

And surely not a good heir, which will be your doom.

"You look tired." his voice was since yesterday really soothing somehow. "When we are in the train you can sleep."

"Are you sure?" you looked at him as he smiled.

"Yeah, I will wake you up."

You smiled hesitantly back. "Thank you."

"What were you thinking? I mean-" your mother paced through the room of the arrangement. "Have I taught you nothing?"

Her voice was loud, piercing, ready to hurt you. As she stood before you, you made yourself ready. "You have to inform the higher ups! Is that to much for you stupid brain?"

"I know mother." your voice trying it's best to be steady as you looked at the ground. "But Gojo…"

She shook her head. "Don't come me with that, it is ridiculous! As if he would be soooo passionate about going with you to the honeymoon! Do you think I'm dumb?"

She looked you in the eyes. "You two are not that close. You prove that every time you talk about him."

"But he was really excited to see…"

"God, stop with your excuses! We are not mad you are on your honeymoon and you know that!" she raised a hand to shut you down. "We are mad because you didn't provide us with information like promised."

You hung your head a bit lower, the guilt pushing you down. You didn't feel guilty because messing up, you felt guilty because you seem to have disappoint her yet again. After she gave you all these chances.

"Yes, mother."

She sighed. Her voice becoming unsteady for a second. Suddenly you felt a cold hand creeping up your back making you shiver.

"You have to get yourself together."

The hand caressing your cheek while wind blew inside your ear. Was there someone beside you?

"All of Jujutsu Society is counting on you right now. A new heir is needed to keep the world balance right. And you are the one needed right now."

The cold fingers went down to your throat. First careful, then more forceful. You wanted to stand up and scream, kick around yourself, but you didn't want to seem that crazy in front of your mother.

"Do you understand?"

Carefully slow your head rose. The hand now pressing down and chocking you slowly.

"Yes, mother."

She smiled. But it wasn't sincere. No, it was her mask smile, the one she kept on when the arrangements occurred. Steady and stern, not revealing anything.

"Well then you can say it to them directly."

The room around you began to spin and transform. Dizziness flooded you, but you were unsure if it came from the sudden change or the deficit of air. Or both.

When you could see through the spinning, a room full of nothingness became clear. The only thing you could decipher was-

"Mrs. Gojo. We thought we were on the same page."

The presence of the higher ups.

You couldn't speak, no everything was blurry and dark and just… Just unbearable. Your body seemed like a prison that kept you there, your mind trying to push out of it.

"Didn't we make ourselves clear?"

You didn't get any air anymore, tears started to dwell up in your eyes. When was the last time you let yourself cry like that?

"Mrs. Gojo. We THOUGHT you knew now of what your importance your marriage to Gojo Satoru is. Why we have to know your decisions."

You hiccuped and almost choked on your tears.

"So WHY did you just LEA-"

A sudden push and pull of your body made you jump. Your eyes now blinking wide open, while the world seemed to keep spinning.

"Hey… Hey! What's wrong??"

You kept your eyes open and the only thing that didn't spin were the eyes in front of you. The sunglasses pulled down, Gojo's blue eyes were wide open. The world around you seemed to stop spinning and you started to feel his close presence.

"Nothing, I'm okay." you looked down and noticed his hands on your shoulders. His grip on you was steady yet still soft.

"Are you kidding me? You were crying in your sleep just now." He tried to look you in the eyes as you looked stubbornly onto the ground.

"I just had a nightmare." you winded yourself out of his soothing grip. "Are we there yet?"

You looked him in the face with your usual mask on, trying to hide the panic in your head. Gojo frowned and looked almost concerned.

"Next station. But are you sure you're okay-"

"Alright, perfect. Thank you." hastily you cut him off, not wanting to go deeper into the topic while you smiled your best 'everything is alright' smile at him.

He swallowed it. For now.

But his hand was still close to your shoulder. And he didn't pull it away. While looking outside he spoke again.

"We will sleep in the little hotel of Hinas Grandmother. It's not far from the train station."

You nodded while trying to calm down from the roller-coaster of emotions you were just on.

"Okay, then let's get our things now. We are almost there."

"Gojo, let me carry on thing please." you pleaded while following your husband as he shook his head.

His hand on your suitcases and an additional backpack on his back. "No chance. I'm not letting you carry anything. You are exhausted enough."

You looked around seeing the stares of other people in this small place. It must have been a really odd picture. A big man carrying two suitcases behind him while his wife was just following him. Oh god…

"Please Gojo, people are staring." you whispered to him but he just whistled with a smile on his face.

You sighed and embraced your fate. He was really something.

"There it is!" he nodded in direction of a small old, building. It had charm and you couldn't help but smile.

You opened the doors for your stubborn husband and adored the older structure of the house. And at the counter stood an elderly woman smiling at you. You couldn't help but smile back.

"Good day to you two. Sleeping here for the night?" she spoke calmly and slow. And still had that glint in her eyes.

"Yeah, we have reservations on the name Gojo." Gojo smiled and leaned onto the counter while holding his ID. The woman looked at it and gasped.

"Oh, you were the lovely couple Hina told me about! Of course we have a room for you two. Honeymoon, wasn't it?" she smiled at you.

You wanted to disagree but slowly it dawned to you. She thought you were married. Well, you were married, but she thought you were married because you wanted to.

"Yes, Honeymoon. Took awhile to convince her to go here." Gojo laughed while taking the key.

"Oh, really?" the woman looked at you surprised.

"Well, that's just not right." you gasped while taking your own suitcase before gojo could take it. "I didn't want to leave immediately, but he wanted to just go, go, go."

"Well, Darling, I just couldn't wait." He grinned at you with that sparkle in his eye. "Is that so bad?"

"You know it is-"

The woman laughed and shook her head. "Oh you two…" she swiped a tear away. "Young love is so refreshing."

You couldn't help the blush that was creeping up again, for the second time this day, and just wanted to hide your face forever before he saw you like that. You looked at the stairs.

And there stood Gojo ready to go upstairs. Smiling at you.

You cleared your throat, while hoping to get a grip on to yourself and pulled your things behind you. "Thank you for the lovely Hospitality."

"Oh, any time." she waved as you stood before the stairs. "Just make yourself at home. Just like Hina has a home at yours."

You waved back, while smiling, before pulling your things up. You forgot how heavy it was, since Gojo carried it till here. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of asking for his help and proving that you were just as exhausted as he thought.

As you stood before your room you raised an eyebrow at him. "Darling?"

He smiled and turned around to open the room with the key. "Oh, you know. Just slipped."

"Really?" you pulled your things into the room, while following him. He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah. And, well, we are here just a married couple. Not an arrangement for the future of the jujutsu society. So we should act like one."

"Suree." you looked around. And horror began to settle.

You were registered as a married couple. So you had only one big bed. And a normal married couple wouldn't have problems with that, would it?

"I will take the couch." your voice was much more quiet now. It was like they were here, chanting that they need a heir. And you shouldn't be so irrational.

"No way." he shook his head. "You look like you need days of sleep. I'm not letting you sleep on the uncomfortable couch."

"It's not a problem." you walked over to the couch and sat down. It wasn't comfortable, he was right. But who would hurt a little lie?

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you. "Let's make a deal."

You looked him in the eyes, in those beautiful eyes. "I'm all ears."

He grinned. "You lie down in the bed for now and sleep till evening while I explore the town. You need the sleep. And later we can discuss who sleeps where."

"I don't have to sleep nooooo-" a yawn interrupted you. "hw. Forget it. Let's do it like you said."

He grinned even wider while handing you the backpack with water inside. "Then make yourself comfortable."

He stood up and took his things and the key. But while pulling the door handle down he stooped.

"Oh, and one thing." he took a book out of the backpack and handed it to you. "I read this before sleeping. Helps me. Even for nightmares. Just in case."

You looked at the title of the book and it said 'Before the coffee gets cold'. A black cat on the cover and you couldn't help but smile.

You looked up at him and chuckled to yourself.

"Thank you, Gojo."

You did have problems sleeping. It wasn't that the bed was uncomfortable.

But you couldn't help but think of the things that the higher ups expected you to do on it.

The covers laid heavy on you, while your hand reached for the book Gojo gave you. A chapter couldn't hurt. And maybe he was right and it really helped.

He was really nice to you. He seemed to make an effort right now. And you appreciated that he wanted to make this arrangement easier (since he was really making it hard in the beginning).

And he was so nice and open to you. And he helped you with the luggage and while sleeping. And his eyes were so-

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

No that wasn't happening right now. Not after you just had a couple of conversations. It couldn't be.

But as you read a couple of sentences and felt yourself relaxing to the story, you knew that it was. You couldn't fight the smile that made it's way onto your face.

God dammit.

Satoru was worried about you. You looked like you didn't sleep in weeks even though it could have only been last night. You were stressed.

And as much as he wanted you to relax, he couldn't force anything that would just stress you more.

But it was so nice to see you smile from time to time. After all the silence and hiding was it like fresh wind.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo already going out?" Hina's grandmother smiled at him while going through the oages of the visitor book.

"My wife is tired, and I wanted to explore the town." he made his way to the counter again. "Do you have any advice for good restaurants? Or cafés?"

"Oh, I do." she smiled at him. "Sato's kitchen down the street is lovely. And the atmosphere is perfect for a romantic dinner."

She sighed. "My husband and I went there a couple of times, when we were younger. It's a lovely place. Not cheap. But lovely."

He chuckled at that. "Thank you, that sounds like something we have to check out. And anything for take out? I don't want her to have to move again today."

She laughed. "Aren't you a gentleman! Well if you look for good take out, we have a good ramen shop in the main street."

"Then I have to check it out." He made a little dramatic bow. "Thank you for your wisdom Mrs. Sato."

She made sure it wasn't a problem as he left. And if he has any questions of what to do here with his wife he could just come to her.

And he wouldn't forget that.

Your body felt heavy as you heard a quiet creak. Your eyes were shut and your head felt a bit dizzy. You still held the book in your hands as you heard a couple of steps.

"You back, Gojo?" you mumbled, your eyes not wanting to open.

"Yeah, but it's not important just keep sleeping."

You wanted to sit up but your body felt heavy. You groaned as you realized what that meant.

"You tricked me…" you weren't sure he would even understand your mumbling. "I'm sleeping now in the bed, and I can't do anything about it…"

You heard a light chuckle that made your traitor of a heart jump.

"I didn't trick you, we had a deal. And now we decided that you sleep in the bed and I sleep on the couch."

"We didn't decide anything…" your voice became more of a whisper as you felt your consciousness drifting away.

"Well," his voice was suddenly really close. "You only have a say if you drop the last name."

Your eyes opened and looked into his. He sat at the end of the big bed, head on his hands as he looked at you.

"I'm Satoru. We are Gojo." He smiled.

"And as Mrs. Gojo you are not alone."

Your eyes fell shut after that. And maybe you were just imagining that. But it still made you feel traitorous warm inside.

Ongoing Taglist (If you wanna be added yous say so, I will add you to the main taglist on the master list) :

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

@dahliawarner @aliisinwonderland @lov3vivian @inthedarkshadows000

@haikyuusimpsblog @sheismaryy @asahinasstuff @honeydew-cheesecake

@sanriosatoru @kimsrie @444na0m1 @humongousdreamlandbear

@elitesanjisimp @dummyf @elernity

@s4ikooo1 @roseyposeylemonsquozey @shitforbrainsmal

@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog @lovemiss-vale @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

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@certainduckanchor @uknowimdumb @smolbeanzzz @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin

@bloopsstuff @rnriz

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #arranged marriage #gojo angst #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x you

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exhaslo · 2 days

Text

Over-Time Ch16

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved, shower sex

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You felt like you were in a movie.

Penthouses like this only existed there! Who would have thought that people truly lived in homes like this. For whatever reason, you thought Miguel would have a regular apartment like you.

You forgot that he was a CEO.

Miguel's bathroom felt nearly the size of your own little apartment. It was large and quiet fancy. Hell, he had a hot tub, a regular stone tub and a large, beautiful rainfall shower.

"Whoa, does your toilet speak too?" You asked, honestly curious at this point.

"Haha,"

Miguel burst into a small fit of laughter towards your cuteness. He took your hand and started to kiss you. Pressing you against the wall, Miguel reached his hand towards the shower, turning the water on with ease.

"Mhpm, Miguel~"

"Have another question?" Miguel asked as he took off his shirt.

You tried to say something, but Miguel captured your lips with another passionate kiss. His tongue exploring your mouth as his hands worked their magic. Your clothes slipping off with ease one after the other.

"W-What...mhm~ What d-desires...do you have?" You asked between kisses.

Miguel grunted softly as he took off the rest of your clothes. He took his off and pressed you against the shower wall...Water rolling down your skin.

"A family," Miguel groaned as he lifted you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist, "Kids of my own."

Your heart started to race as Miguel stared into your eyes. His harden dick rubbing against your dripping crotch. Your body grew hotter, feeling Miguel's growing sex drive. All it took was one sentence and you would be Miguel's all night.

"Hah, that's...sweet," You managed to say, wishing to have Miguel ravish your entire being, but not yet.

"After we deal with this mess, I'll make sure to fill you so much, (Y/N). I want you to have my babies," Miguel groaned lowly.

"I'd like that,"

Honestly, you couldn't think straight. The steam from the shower along with Miguel's kisses and grinding was fogging your brain. All you could focus on was his touch and how much you wanted him to fuck you.

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you whimpered and whined as he teased your aching hole. His dick just poking against it, begging for entrance.

Like a starved man, Miguel's kisses became rougher. His grip tighten as he lifted you slightly. Your body arched slightly as you felt Miguel begin to enter your body.

The pain soon subsided as you felt full. Miguel made his home inside you, making sure to fill you to the brim. You had gotten used to the size of Miguel's dick by now. Sure, it still made your brain fuzzy, but it felt so good.

Clenching against his dick, you whimpered a moan. Miguel understood as he started to move. Unsure if it was the shower or you, everything felt hotter. Miguel was able to thrust into you with ease, sending shivers up your spine.

Resting your head into his shoulder, you tried to hold onto Miguel, but you felt your body grow weak with every thrust. His tip hitting your cervix with each thrust into you. His dick stretching you out and making a home inside your cunt.

Miguel gripped your ass as he pumped into you. Every thrust getting rougher and quicker. Pressing you against the wall, Miguel started to grunt and moan in your ear as you kept squeezing his cock.

"Fuck, want you now, (Y/N)." Miguel hissed.

Your head was getting foggy and it was getting slightly hard to breathe from the steam. Feeling the pool of heat getting more intense, you cried out a loud moan as you cam from another thrust.

"Good girl,"

"M-Mig," You muttered.

Miguel grunted as he held your hips, giving you a few more pumps before unloading inside you. Inhaling deeply, you whined softly as you felt your womb filling up. Relaxing for just a moment, you gasped as Miguel bend you down, your ass towards him.

"Miiiig," You whined, your chest pressed against the wall.

"Just once more," Miguel whispered in your ear, sliding his dick inside you again, "My cute clumsy, (Y/N). So perfect, taking my dick so well."

"Mhm~"

"Taking such good care of me," Miguel kissed your shoulders as his hips slapped into yours, "For staying with me."

"Ah~ Miguel~" You cried out.

Your legs were shaking and your arms grew weak. The pleasure was overwhelming you. Biting your lower lip as Miguel kept kissing your back, you leaned forward as his hands played with your breasts.

His dick feeling like it went deeper with each balls deep thrust Miguel gave you. Your pussy clenching and sucking him in more, begging for more. You were at war with your own body, desperate for more pleasure.

"God, it's so tempting to make you mine now, (Y/N)." Miguel grunted, kissing your ear, "I promise to tell you everything."

--------

Miguel grunted softly as he looked down at your naked body. Water streaming down your sides as he kept thrusting into you. Your head resting against the shower wall as your moans grew sloppier and louder.

Chuckling softly, Miguel groaned as you cam once more against him. He held your body up before giving you a final few thrusts. His seed pouring into you once more.

"I love you, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear before giving you a gentle kiss.

Lifting you up gently, Miguel made sure to wash you thoroughly. Your peaceful expression making him feel better about confessing to you. To think he managed to have someone like you.

His precious little mouse.

Miguel was determined to protect you. Miguel was determined to make sure that you knew everything about him. Just the thought of you leaving him hurt. The thought of Dana hurting you boiled Miguel's rage.

"I won't let her ruin this."

Miguel grunted softly as he finished washing you, drying you and then putting on his pajamas on you. Once he put on his own pants, Miguel grabbed his phone and decided to make a few phone calls.

This was something worth fighting for.

You were worth fighting for.

Miguel was not going to let Dana win this. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that the two of you stay together without worries.

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Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly @keyisloved @unwrittenletter @reader4life @leenasgirl200 @oscarissac2099 @mari0-o @cinnamoro1l @leryg0 @hizzielover @resident-clown @girl-of-multi-fandoms @sana-408-blog

#spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x fem!reader

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n0tamused · 2 days

Note

Have you by any chance seen someone on Twitter posting a translated version of Xiangli Yao's daily schedule? How about writing something like what his schedule would be with the reader (already in a relationship) maybe on a day off? Something like: 8:00 AM - get up and start day 10:00-12:00 AM snuggled in bed with y/n as a result. Or - 4:00 PM - prosthetic maintenance. ambushed from behind. (Imagine nuzzling him from behind while he tinkers with his hand 🥺) Something like a bunch of small drabbles in 1 work? I guess finding someone to write for him awakened something in my brain, I'msorry.

A/n: I have heard of this schedule but tbh I didn't see it myself before I got this request lol, I really find the idea sweet so I hope I did it justice! And no need to apologize, I am happy to write for Xangli Yao

Contents: Xiangli Yao x GN!Reader, fluff, short drabbles, established relationship not proofread

Saturday:

08:30 - Wake up

It’s been many years since Xiangli Yao has practiced this continuous cycle of waking up at certain times, to the point he did not need an alarm clock anymore. It was 8:14 when he came to his senses, morning light sleeping through the blinds and softly caressing his eyelids to open. He turns away from them, shifting sluggishly underneath the blankets, knowing that work wasn’t waiting on him today.

He is greeted by your sleeping face, relaxed and soft as the few spots of light from the blinds danced over your cheeks and lips. The light didn’t seem to disturb you, something he was thankful for as he shuffled closer and wrapped his good arm around you, bringing you closer to his warmth as he nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, breathing in your scent as your hair tickled his skin. He feels you mold into his shape, your sleep heavy arm going underneath his and over his side, the blanket keeping your shared warmth trapped, shielding you from the chilly morning.

09:30 - make breakfast with my beloved :)

Well, it may have been 9:10 by the time you both willed yourself to leave the comforts of eachothers arms. It was hunger that pulled you both from bed, stumbling into the bathroom. Xiangli Yao was next to you as you washed your face while he brushed his teeth. He handed you your toothbrush after you blindly found the towel next to the sink and brushed your face dry.

Although he had gotten used to being the one to prepare breakfast for both of you during workdays, the weekends did allow more time, and so Yao did try to listen to you more when you said you wanted to help or do more of the work since you don’t usually get the chance to do so. He did convince you some times before, letting you so simply sit aside and look pretty while he whips you up your favorite, but today wasn’t that day. You woke up with more energy and a craving for good quality time and to get your hands busy.

What ends up happening is a table full of food, a big but balanced breakfast of veggies and fruit and needed protein. While you were setting up the table, Xiangli Yao poured you both the juice you made the weekend. He may not think about it too often, but he always feels like the richest man in the world when he shares mornings like these with you.

13:00 - go to the market, restock groceries

His prosthetic arm is holding the basket while the fingers of his other hand are intertwined with yours. Xiangli Yao was yet to become truly used to these public displays of affection, but he never disliked them. The thing was that such little acts of affection flustered him so much at first and he’d rather not catch someone ogling him while his cheeks are red as the tomatoes you were looking at now. He was used to it, he tells himself as he slowly lets your fingers slip from his hold when you say you can use some of the tomatoes. He remembers you mentioning a recipe some time ago that required a good amount of tomatoes. He helps you pick out the best ones and he adds it to the basket after the purchase is done. Although today’s shopping trip ended with more bags than either of you expected, Xiangli Yao vehemently refused to allow you to carry any of the bags.

You ended up stopping at the local dessert shop, purchasing a few sweet goods for home. You mentioned how the chocolate cake he got looked oddly similar to Xiang-LEE. Now he couldn’t unsee it..

16:00 - prosthetic maintenance(p.s. keep your back guarded!)

How oddly homely it felt to have your arms around him while he tinkered away on his mechanical arm..

Although at first you only observed him from the doorway, he chose to skillfully ignore you when you began to sneak closer, almost as if he couldn’t see you from the corner of his eye.

You knew he knew too, but it's a game you both chose to play every evening when the sun began to lean in to kiss the mountains.

You hum as you put your chin on top of his head, peering down at the assortment of open wires and metal plating scattered about on the table. There's a screwdriver in his good hand, and he's clearly doing something, but you're unsure what. Perhaps you'd ask one day, tell him to explain how his arm really works, but that is not today.

He feels you leaning in and kissing his cheek and then his temple.

“The meal is soon to be done. Don't keep me waiting all alone at the table, Xiangli Yao”

19:00 - Free activities

Xiangli Yao can't help the chuckle that escapes him as he witnesses your scowl and furrowed brows, and all for the little board game with black and white pieces. You've won the round from last night and he deemed it appropriate to ask for a rematch, although he only wished to make you blow off the steam. You've been rather stressed this week, perhaps some back and forth of the game could allow a reprieve.

“You've been thinking about your next move for quite some time now, my love…” he tries, a smile plastered on his lips, both amused and sympathetic.

“...I got it…shh” you return, pushing your chin into the heel of your palm. He hums in response, and another few heartbeats of silence pass before he sees your face light up, as if a star had whispered the next act into your ear. Your fingers deftly move across the board and move your piece across the checkerboard.

“Checkmate!”

He laughs, his chest shaking with joy as you beam at him. You beat him. Again.

22:30 - bedtime

Mornings are where Xiangli Yao thrives. He is a morning person to the last bone in his body and on work days it is not rare for him to rise before you and his alarm, but they don’t bring him nearly as much relief and joy as bedtime does. Your sleepy face as you go to brush your teeth and change into your bedwear always has his heart softening, his own movements slowing down as his entire body yawns for the comforts of the mattress and comfortable blankets.

He is sitting at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his prosthetic arm for the last time and setting it aside on the table right next to his side of the bed. His prosthetic is cold and rather uncomfortable to sleep with for both of you. From behind he hears you exiting the bathroom and the sound of your bare feet against the floor hurrying up has him turning around to see how you crash into the bed, your face buried into your pillow with a low groan, a breath of relief as weight is taken off your feet.

He shuffles, telling you to get under the blankets while he turns off the lights. Once he remembered you both joking about being afraid of the dark, and although it was all just a joke - Xiangli Yao has been the one to turn off the lights since then.

He hums as he returns, sliding under the blankets and finding the warmth of your body with searching fingers, pulling himself closer until he was wrapped around you. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent before laying a lingering kiss to your cheek, bidding you goodnight.

#-dragon.treasure #fluff #xiangli yao #wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa xiangli yao #wuthering waves fluff #wuthering waves xiangli yao #xiangli yao x reader #xiangli yao x you #xiangli yao x rover #xiangli yao x gn reader #gn reader #xiangli yao imagine #wuwa fluff #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x reader

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l4ndonorizz · 13 hours

Text

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

#f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader

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cloudzoro · 2 days

Text

Star | Dracule Mihawk ♡

one piece materlist | mihawk masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Not a star in the sky could compare to you”, He groans as he guides his cock to your entrance. His words get caught in his throat as he pushes inside you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni), fluff? it's very romantic smut

wc: 2.3k

pairings: mihawk x reader

cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, oral, mirror sex, praise, so much praise, squirting

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You finish putting in your earrings and step back, examining yourself in the bathroom mirror. You have a vanity that your husband built for you, but he was currently getting ready in your bedroom, and you wanted to surprise him. You had bought a new dress and didn't want your Husband, Dracule Mihawk, to see it until you were ready. You know you look good, smiling at your reflection. You think now is a good time to show your Husband the absolute stunner of a dress you've chosen. Maybe he'll like it so much he'll be too distracted to take you to this boring dinner. You grab your necklace from the bathroom counter, a subtle but gorgeous piece he'd gifted you on your first anniversary.

“Mihawk?” You call from the other side of the door. You crack open the door to see he's turned away from you, assessing his own formal outfit in the mirror.

“Yes, Darling?” he says, turning to meet your eye. He's quiet when he first lays his eyes on you, scanning you from head to toe. There's a faint smile on his lips, one that's reserved for you, as he wordlessly takes the necklace from your outstretched hand. You stand between him and the mirror, watching his reflection as he delicately clasps the necklace.

Mihawk wraps his arms around you from behind, hands roaming over your waist and hips. He kisses the left side of your neck, pressing his tongue against the skin. His lips trail across your shoulder and over the sleeve of the dress, all the way to your left hand, where he presses the most delicate of kisses to your wedding ring.

“You look gorgeous, y/n”, he compliments, turning you in his arms so he can peck your lips. “so beautiful”. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face when he speaks to you like this.

“You look handsome,” you say now that you're able to get a proper look at him in his suit, though it's not too dissimilar from his everyday attire. He rolls his eyes; despite all the years you've been married, he's still unable to take a compliment.

“Thank you, Darling,” he says, trying to brush your compliment off. “ But I fear bringing you around the guild may be dangerous when you look the way you do. Especially Crocodile and that stupid clown.”

“Then don't.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don't take me to dinner”, you say, matter of factly. Your hand reaches up to unbutton his shirt, and he lets out an amused huff once he realises your intentions.

“And what do you suggest I do instead?” he says, eyes not leaving yours as he waits for you to tell him what he wants to hear.

“You can lay me down right here and fuck my brains out.” Your words are sharp and clear as they hit his ears. He knows you're referring to the bed by' right here', but he has slightly different plans.

“I still would like to take you dancing, though, my dear”, he says, starting up an old record that blares throughout your room. He pulls you impossibly close, one hand placed low on your waist and the other holding your hand. He slowly starts to sway the two of you.

The dance is intimate and full of passion - as your private moments with your husband typically are. Mihawk is actually quite fond of dancing, having learnt it when he was young; it's one of his favourite pastimes to partake in with you. The way he's holding you has his leg pressed between your legs, and he opts for a dance style much more sensual than a traditional waltz. Dancing is such a simple act, yet it inspires Mihawk.

He admires the grace with which you move as he leans down to whisper filthy things in your ear. He's teasing you, pulling you close to him and riling you up until you're tearful and desperate for some kind of contact. He takes a step back to guide you into a spin and then back against his chest. He kisses your shoulder, light as a feather, and compliments your dance skills.

You're sick of the teasing now, so you turn in Mihawk's arms to face him again and pull him into an aggressive kiss, which He returns with equal force. Your Husband might bend to your every whim, but he is still a feared man throughout the world, and you're reminded of this when his grip tightens on your waist, and he lets out a terrifying growl against your lips. He pulls away from the kiss, chuckling at the way you try to chase his lips. His strength and power are attractive to you, and the force with which he holds you in place has you melting in his arms. He just stands there, keeping you until you start to whine about the sudden lack of affection.

“Oh, you're not enjoying our dance anymore?”

“Of course I am, but I need you so bad.”

“Need me to do what?” he asks, still holding you. He knows precisely what you want but wants to hear you say it. Mihawk is proud and secure, but he still likes to hear how badly you need him. You struggle momentarily in his arms, frustrated by his lack of action. Your frustration is amusing to your Husband, who smirks at you until he finally gets what he wants.

“Need you to make me cum. Please. I want you to fuck me,” You say, there's a slight wobble of need in your voice, and Mihawk eats it up. He offers you a genuine smile, one that you see more often than others assume, and guides you over to the vanity, turning you around so you can see yourself in it. His touch is delicate as he tilts your chin up so you can look at your own face.

“Keep your eyes on your reflection, I want you to see how gorgeous you look when I make you cum”, he says. In an act that would shake the world if anyone were to see it, Dracule Mihawk drops to his knees. Being able to bring a man as respected and feared as Mihawk down beneath you makes you feel like the most powerful woman on the globe.

He bunches the skirt of your dress up to your hips. He holds the skirt with one hand as he tears your underwear down your legs so he can get at your pussy. He leans forward, skipping any warm-up, and goes straight to burying his tongue in your hole. He licks at your walls as you moan his name. Mihawk listens for every gasp and little noise that leaves your lips, committing them to memory. He drops the skirt, allowing it to cover him, and uses a hand to rub your neglected clit. He seems dead set on making you cum as quickly as possible.

You're doing as your Husband asked, keeping your eyes open and on the reflection before you. His tongue is driving you closer and closer to the edge. Mihawk has told you several times that his favourite positions are ones where he can clearly see your face, and now you're starting to see why. This is the most at home you've ever seen yourself, you're basically glowing. You're hot and bothered and oh so desperate to cum, but you're happy and satisfied. The slurping noises from beneath you insinuate that Mihawk feels the same way.

A few more well-placed flicks of his tongue have your legs shaking and your orgasm washing over you. Your first orgasm is energising, it leaves you with all of your nerves alight and sensitive but eager for your Husband's touch. He pulls away, letting your dress fall behind you and stands up. He's pleased that you listened to him and watched yourself.

He orders you to keep your eyes on the mirror for a little longer to let him appreciate the dress a little longer. You obey, soaking up the praise he showers you with.

When he grows impatient, done with ghosting kisses over your neck, he helps you unzip the dress. He delicately pulls the dress down, offering a hand to steady you as you step out of the garment. He lays it over the ottoman so that you can hang it back up when you're finished and then returns his attention to you.

He kisses you, his usual intensity ever present as he walks you over to the bed. He pushes you gently, not enough to cause you harm, and you follow along. You lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows to watch as he slowly removes his clothes.

Watching Mihawk strip for you is like watching a god show vulnerability. You feel special knowing you're the only one who gets to see him like this. You're so busy appreciating the new exposed skin that you barely register that he's talking dirty to you. Mihawk stalks towards you like a panther, kneeling on the bed and crawling over so he's hovering on top of you.

“My pretty girl” he hums, taking your nipple into his mouth and squeezing your other boob. He shows some love to your chest, kissing across it to take your other nipple into his mouth. He could go on like this for hours, kissing over your body, leaving marks and praises as he goes. You squirm beneath him, his intensity suffocating you. “If you want me to give you more, you're going to have to help me out first”, he says, rolling so that he's beneath you now. He guides you down to his cock, and you take it into your mouth as far as you can without gagging.

You hold your head still, encouraging him to move his hips. You let his taste settle in your mouth as you tongue over the veins on his cock. He's happy to place his hand on the back of your head and gently thrust into your wet mouth. He's careful not to go too far, though you wouldn't mind if he got a little rougher with you. Mihawk moans as you swallow around him, encouraging you to repeat the action. The next flick on your tongue against his cock has him pulling you off him. You look so good, staring up at him with hazy eyes and a drooling, open mouth, that he almost cums just looking at you.

Mihawk is happy to praise and talk you through sex, but when it comes to receiving, he's very reserved. The sighs and moans you do manage to pull from him with your tongue have pride rising to the surface of your skin. The low whimper he gives you as you lick at his tip is pretty enough to have you releasing moans of your own around him.

“I wanna cum inside you”, he states, pulling you up for another kiss. You nod into the kiss, and he flips you over, so now you're beneath him once again. Mihawk sits back on his heels, admiring your body. “You look beautiful in that dress, but Darling, you are breathtaking without it”, he says, running calloused fingers along the plush of your thighs.

“Not a star in the sky could compare to you”, He groans as he guides his cock to your entrance. His words get caught in his throat as he pushes inside you. He takes in the feeling of your pussy enveloping his cock, the feeling makes his brain go fuzzy. He's cursed you out jokingly, of course, for the way your body shuts off his brain, but it's different seeing it in action. His gaze darkens, and his breaths come out in sharp growls. You flinch as his teeth graze your neck when he leaves a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss there. It would be so easy for him to sink his teeth into your vulnerable skin, and it wouldn't be the first time he's done so. You've seen his aggression on the battlefield; this is a different beast you're facing.

Mihawks thrusts start heavy; there's no build-up of strength. He reaches places you never thought possible and angles your hips so he can have you kicking your feet at the intense pleasure. He's an expert in the field of your body, years of experimental research have led him to be able to have you soak the sheets in minutes. He knows exactly where to aim his thrusts to have you gushing. He grinds himself inside of you between thrusts, complimenting you through gritted teeth as he tries to keep his sounds of euphoria to himself. One of his skilled hands reaches down to play with your clit. Mihawks movements are practised and deliberate, an inherited skill gained from being your husband.

“Play with those beautiful tits for me”, he instructs, keeping his hawk eyes glued to your chest. He watches as you obey him, squeezing your tits and playing with your tits. The sensations are all-consuming, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm. You're overwhelmed and unable to tell him you're about to cum. You don't need to tell him, he knows. From the rapid spasming of your pretty pussy to your incoherent whimpers, he can read you like a book. “Go ahead, sweet girl. Make a mess for me”

Your legs shake, and your torso tenses as you cry out your husband's name. Your release feels white-hot beneath your skin, and you can barely register the way you're gushing all over your husband's abdomen. Mihawk is unbothered by the mess, in fact, he encourages it. His orgasm follows closely behind as he fills you with his hot cum. When you've both come down from your highs, chest heaving and lazy smiles reserved only for one another to see, he peels himself off of you to assess the damages to the sheets.

“We may have to sleep in the guest bed tonight while the mattress dries,” he says. “For now, though, let's get you to the shower”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48 @lem-hhn

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #fem!reader #mihawk smut #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 2 days

Text

Forever

@loose1cannon Thank you so much for your request! I was so hyped with the Ace one, but I need to apologise because my angsty wired brain might have made a poo-poo. I'm so sorry if it's too sad! 😫 I promise that the other part of your request will be happy, okay?? I hope you still enjoy it! ❤️

Source for pic

Forever

Word Count: 1270

Tags: fem!reader; angst, so much angst; NSFW; feelings; hurt; sorrow; grief; spoilers for what happens at Marineford; slightly NSFW

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: It has been a year since Marineford and you still can't cope with the loss.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil (guys if you only want to be tagged for specific characters, please send me a message! I don't want to bother you with excessive tagging!!🙏)

|Masterlist|

Rain poured down from the skies mirroring your inner turmoil exactly. The steady downpour cast a sort of halo over your figure. It felt like a shroud. The site was eerily quiet aside from the sounds of the heavy drops crashing against the stone graves.

And for the thrumming of your heart.

An unsteady rhythm beating out of sync, skipping a beat now and then, as if it were missing something to make it whole. And it was.

Ace.

One year had passed since he left you, or since you lost him. Honestly, it felt like the world itself had lost him, since he belonged to everyone. He was life itself. And without him, there was only demise.

“Did you miss me, baby?” His tongue swiped against yours in desperation while his scalding hands roamed your clothed body. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day.”

Ace was always so eager for you that his touch singed your clothes, leaving small burn marks on the hem of your shirts or on your jeans. It used to piss you off. You’d scold him saying you didn’t have berries lying around just to buy new clothes and that he should be more careful. He laughed it off, or kissed it off, murmuring that he could buy or steal all the clothes you wanted, or better yet, you could just walk naked.

A sob clawed its way up your throat and scratched it, yearning to get out, needing to be free, but you clamped it down and pushed it back into your insides to fester and rot like all the other feelings of grief, sorrow and despair.

No more crying. No more sadness. Ace wouldn’t want that. Ace loved your laugh.

“Laugh for me, Sunbeam!” You were both lying on his bed, sheets tangled on naked limbs and sweaty bodies, heaving from exhaustion and pleasure.

“No. I’m mad at you.” But you weren’t, you were just downcast.

“It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”

No, no. You can’t go there, this one is too painful. If only you insisted, if only you had pushed further. He wouldn’t have gone after Blackbeard and he would still be here with you.

Your knees hit the muddied floor with a soft thud as your hands clutched your chest. Slim fingers crumpled the drenched fabric as your breath left your lips in shallow, ragged heaves. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, Ace! Not like this!”

Your arms circled your torso in the only hug you allowed yourself these days: your own. It was nowhere near enough, but then again, there would never be another hug like Ace’s.

It was crushing, bone-breaking, suffocating. It was home.

“Ace!”

“I’m back, baby. Missed me, Sunbeam?” With a little jump you were straddling his lap, legs wrapped securely around his waist as his hands rested on your ass. Your mouth devoured him while your fingers tangled in his unkempt greasy hair. “I guess that’s a yes.”

That smirk. Those freckles. The mischievous glint in his eyes.

Gone. All gone. Buried in front of you, six feet under and beneath layers of cold, unforgiving dirt.

Alongside your heart.

You tried to stifle your moans against the pillow, but he would have none of that. Stopping that sinful lapping of his tongue and removing his fingers from inside you, he lifted himself onto his knees and threw the pillow to the other side of the cabin. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Ace!” You whisper with a groan of frustration. You were just about to unravel when he left you feeling empty.

“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” He aligned his leaking tip with your wet entrance and teased, pulling a little mewl from your lips. “But way louder.”

And you did what he told you to.

Was that the last time?

There’s no stopping the tears. You tried, you really did. But they were relentless. You have a million memories from the past and a million and one memories of Ace. You can’t afford to lose any of them.

"God, Ace, why?” The clenching in your chest expands and swells, taking up all the space inside. Filling you like a balloon and you feel ready to pop. How are you supposed to survive without him? One year was already hell, how can you survive another one?

And another one…

“Smile, Sunbeam!”

“You’re shining, love!”

“Ah, that laugh right there, I could die a happy man.”

“You make me feel worthy.”

“I can’t live without you, baby.”

“Don’t ever leave me. I wouldn’t make it.”

You didn’t leave him. You kept your promise. He was the one who left. And now how are you supposed to move on with your life as if what made you live wasn’t ripped apart from you? How is a sunbeam supposed to shine when there is no reflective surface?

How can you be light, when all you feel is darkness?

“Ace… This was never supposed to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to break me…"

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you.”

“You’re my life.”

“My happy, little Sunbeam.”

“My love.”

Getting up on wobbly legs you took another two steps forward. Your tears mixed with the rain, salt and water. Pain and grief. Hurt and sorrow. Reaching with trembling, frail fingers, you grabbed the remnants of Ace’s hat. It was torn and tattered, the beads were barely hanging on, but it was still there.

A desperate wail left your lips as you fell back down, your legs no longer supporting the weight of your misery. This time, you let the sobs climb all the way out. And you cried as you had never cried before. Sobs, hiccups and ragged breaths mingled with the sound of approaching thunder.

But none of that compared to the tempest inside. It roared, raged and crashed, drowning you in its violence, dragging you to the pits of sorrow and darkness and you had no idea how to climb out of there anymore. Not without him.

But then there was a sudden calmness. A break amidst the most violent of storms and then the echo of a whisper, soft and unmistakable.

“You’ll be okay, Sunbeam.”

Ace’s voice. A gentle murmur in your soul. Perhaps a conjured thought your troubled mind had made up, but you’d take it.

You clutched his worn-out hat against your chest, wishing there was still a lingering scent of him anywhere, but he had disappeared so long ago. The rain slowed down and was now just a gentle pitter-patter against the leaves and the graves.

A sunbeam peeked from behind a dark cloud and landed on your lap, near Ace’s hat and for the first time in a year you felt a sliver of hope on the horizon. You didn’t have Ace anymore, but your love for him would never fade or wane.

Your memories together would still be a part of you.

You would carry him inside you and remember him in those missing, uneven beats of your heart.

Maybe… just maybe, that would be enough to carry you through.

“I’ll be okay, love.” You forced a laugh. A bright smile like the ones he used to love. “For you, Ace. I’ll fight for you.”

The sunbeam on your lap flickered, faded behind a cloud and reappeared on Ace’s grave. Hope filled you and took back some of the space that grief and sorrow had claimed as territory. You’d learn to shine again, someday…

For him.

For Ace.

For your love.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #reader insert #Spotify

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parisoonic · 8 hours

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How the hell do you manage to superimpose the hilariously exagerated proportions of the tf2 mercs into a cohesive 2d style? I always struggle SO much with like, the way the mercs' models have huge hands, the way they have relatively low-poly definition on things like arms, shoulders, and legs... and Especially the way like, the models are kinda janky when you pose them for art purposes- when using movement tools, things like armpits and seams between body parts get all deformed... Which makes the study of form and silhouette rather difficult.

I assume that a lot of your ability to translate the concept of the mercs from their original mediums into your own works of art comes to you quite naturally- through experience you have with drawing and art style stuff, as well as through intuition. I was simply wondering if I could poke at your mind and get some insight into your process, any thoughts you have about the proportions and silhouettes of the mercs, any quirks you've found while drawing the mercs, or simply what you enjoy drawing about them. Like, don't be afraid to infodump about something just because you think people wouldn't find it interesting- I am here, I am sitting, and I am listening- if you so choose to speak.

I am utterly fascinated and enraptured by the more behind-the-scenes aspect of art. The mundane things that come second nature to great artists yet seem so revolutionary to less experienced artists.

I love your work, I look forward to seeing more of it, and I hope you have a nice day :]

Sorry for the late reply! I've been a little…stuck on how to answer this but that's mainly because to me, drawing is composed of SO many different little skills - you have form, anatomy, shape language, silhouette, appeal, rhythm, acting and posing…not to mention everything AFTER your raw draughtmanship like line style, rendering and colour theory. Trying to distill a multiude of small skills into some pithy advice is overwhelming to my brain. So I'll take the invitation to ramble instead :))

I don't think I have any new or revolutionary insight into the tf2 guys specifically - more I'm using them as work horses to excercise general silhouette/posing/shape-language and further my skills when it comes to drawing characters!

I do agree though the proportions are rather silly when you stop and think about them realistically…they can be kinda tricky if you follow their 'actual' proportions. what looks great individually was maybe never meant to be directly compared (ie: Heavy's hand size against Spy's lol). It would've been funny if the TV show exsisted and we had more content to review…would the animators have had rules like Spy and Heavy can never shake hands? Would they cheated the proportions for shots? Or would they have said WHATVER it's gonna look weird and embraced it? (Like Kingpin in Spiderverse lol)

Paul Lasaine for 'Into the Spiderverse' This is AWESOME. But it's also one of the silliest designs I've ever seen comitted to screen. The varied scales of the characters work because of the unifying treatment (lighting, rendering, consistant hand anatomy, consistant cxlothing fold treatment etc) and because they are sort of proportional within themselves. A common manta is that hands should be about as large as a characters face....which they all are here!

Human brains are very flexible and forgiving though. It's totally fine for you to put a character with huge hands and head next to a teeny tiny character! Vanellope and Ralph from Wreck-It Ralph look grand next to each other! And in that film you even have varying levels of stylisation sitting against each other (unified by the look dev treatment of the shaders and lighting). I think as long as the chracter is proportional within themselves it sort of works out. IE: a general rule is that a hand should be as large as the face so…you can have some large arse hands as long as their placed on a body with a big arse head. Unifying characters with the same treatment (ie: lineart brush, colouring style will also help them look cohesive next to each other :) )

I don't actually reference the 3D models/animations very much at all and instead draw their proportions based on my tastes for stylisation following their general vibes/silhouette profiles. I don't stick THAT close to their in-game looks and there are artists who do that are so so so much better than me (Creedei and Flapjack come to mind). I'm not amazing at body-type differentation and TBH they're all wearing chunky clothes all the time so I usually draw the guys as one-of-three body shapes: Heavy is the uniquely wide guy; Sniper/Scout/Spy are all tall and slim and Demo/Soldier/Medic/Engie have a little more of the generic 'hero' bodytype with varying tallness and broadness of the shoulders

Something like this! You can vary all these individual elements in terms of size, thickness, taper amount etc to create different characters. If you ARE going to reference the 3d works though you'll need to apply some anatomy knowledge to overcome the weird shoulders, armpits and knees which desperately need blendshapes to correct the 3D volumes and approach it a little more like an animation supervisor. There's a reason why you see in making-ofs and art-ofs character designers, character leads or animation supes doing drawovers of the models. These are character models that have had great effort put into their 'base' silhouette but it still needs to be reinforced in every frame for maximum appeal.

Shiyoon Kim for 'Raya' This sort of thing will occur at multiple stages during the animation process. Shiyoon Kim's notes are post final model but pre-animation. Most likely for internal rig tests, exploring what blend shapes and alt shapes are needed for the rigs etc. If your production has time, this will continue all the way to final anim. IF! But it's interesting to see how he emphasises the shapes and enhances the character acting of the 3d model.

As for 'mundane things' - I wouldn't say they're second nature! (If that makes you feel better!) I have to actively really persue certain advice and try to figure out how to best apply it. This can sometimes involve redrawing and redrawing an element of the drawing until I've grasped the nettle of whatever I'm after or…..until I get frustrated and either delete the drawing or just call it done lol

Here, I'm looking for a really specific flow of the head that sells both the acting and a subtle head tilt. I'm also trying to apply the general mantra regarding faces that converging lines (set by the eyebrows and mouth) are more appealing than parallel. It's tough! I also tend to use a drawing I've already done as a template/reference on the page too. Oh! This page is an amazing example of why I'm not an animator or storyboarder…consistancy? Who is she? 💅

Converging lines (that form tapered shapes) are always more appealing than parallel. Using this logic you can loft the facial features across converging lines to create dynamic appealing espressions. Combining this with anatomy, perspective and rotation is the tough part though. I'm still learning o7

The things I probably think about MOST are always flats vs curves, simple vs complex and general line of action/flow...and then eliminting tangents. Each of these can be a dedicated visual-essay on their own - hence my stumbling as to answer your question. Anyhow, not sure if it's ever come up on this blog but I looove dinosaurs :)) so i'm using a wee piece to demostrate these ideas! (but also to demostrate these concepts apply to everything from humans characters to animals, props and background design)

Okay, I'm getting self-aware that this is getting really long :') I have a wee tutorial tag for my blog if anyone wants to comb through my garbled art-thoughts. Learning, studying, repetition and practice will always be the greatest teachers! I'm glad you like my art- thank you so much for the lovely comments - I feel like such a noob still and not qualified to give people advice but we're in it together learning! High-five! 🙌

#tutorial #asks #sorry for any spelling mistakes whoops!#hopefully...this is VAGUELY useful or interesting to people ;;#TBH I'd much rather do youtube drawovers/videos of my own or others work as that is...my job...rather than doing writeups lol #its much easier to talk and vibe about a piece of art vocally than to try and make everything uber succint in writing

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snoopyearss · 21 hours

Text

wet vagina!

I bring the drip with wet vagina!

a/n: my favorite doja song

Toji Drabble!

cw: reoccurring themes of baby carrying and breeding, size difference, usage of the word ‘daddy’, mating press

I think it's pretty obvious that Toji has some sort of breeding kink. So when you told him to skip the condom tonight, he flung it across the room so fast. He placed you on your back and hiked up your legs to your chest. The movement alone makes your folds slowly spread apart, slick glistening from either side and slowly dripping down because of the foreplay.

"Y'er killin' me right now, you know that?" His voice raspy as he drops a glob of spit right on your clit. You whine softly at the warm sensation. "Toji," you look up at him with such a need in your eyes. "I know, baby." He wrapped his big hand around his dick as he began to pump himself in front of you, using his other hand to strum on your clit. Slowly. “Ugh, fuck. Look at you,” he slowly inserted a thick finger in your fluttering hole. “Fuckin’ soaked.” You squirm under him, whimpering and mewling as he held his finger in. Not moving it what so ever. He groaned as he felt you clench around him, your way of telling him to move. “Please,”

“Oh? You ready my sweet girl? Ready to get fucked raw?” He says it in almost a taunting tone. “Yes, please, please fuck me.” He chuckles as he pulls his finger out of you and wastes no time replacing it with his cock. The contrast has the wind being knocked out of your lungs. “Fuck. This pussy is so wet, all this f’me mama?” The feeling of your velvety walls mixed in with your slick was slowly making him lose his resolve. Your pretty pussy was making so many noises for him with each thrust he administered. “F-fuck! Toji, hah~” your sentences were choppy, moans bubbling up from your diaphragm, getting caught in your throat for a quick second, then forced out of you with every rough thrust Toji would give.

The continuous squelch! Noises had both of you moaning out as if it were a competition. “‘M cumming! Toji I’m-“ the sentence intervened by an intense heat wave crashing through your lower half and spraying all over Toji’s thick cock. “There we go mama, keep goin’ f’me.” And his thrusts wouldn’t stop. They would only pick up in speed since you just got 10 times wetter. It was driving him insane. “Gonna let me cum deep in this tight pussy?” He picks your hips up and starts using you as if you were some type of flesh light, like it was made for his pleasure and his pleasure only.

“Y-yes, please cum I-inside. I need it. Please.” You babbled as his trusts were going even harder. “Yeah? Y’need it? Gonna let me fuck a baby into you?” His nasty dirty talk has your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. “Fuuuck, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Your tummy all swollen with my kid huh? You’d look so sexy with a swollen tummy baby.” He places his large hand on your stomach and rubbed light circles over it, sending small heat waves to your stomach and down to your clit. His dirty talk was so much more intense than any other times you both would fuck, and it was turning you on. You don’t even realize you’re creaming all over his shaft for the second time. “Y-yeah, wanna make you a daddy, Toji.”

The word ‘daddy’ made a switch turn on in his brain as he folded your legs back to your chest, and began jackhammering into you. “Fuckin’ shit little girl,” he groans with each thrust. “Take it, fuckin’ take what I’m gonna give ya. Take it for me.” He thrusts one last time, so deep inside you feel almost feel it in your throat. The warm thick ropes of his come floods you and you already start to feel full. You moan at the foreign, yet very pleasant feeling. Toji softly kisses your lips as he continues to give you shallow thrusts. His way of making sure he did his job of filling you up properly and making sure it takes.

“You were so good for me, pretty.” He kisses you even more. “Didn’t know you wanted to be a daddy that badly Toji.” You teased him. “Shut up.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #dilf toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #smut jjk #snoopyearss

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themeraldee · 2 days

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The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

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@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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shrimpybbq · 2 days

Text

Blessing in Disguise (2)

Abstract: A war-torn Gwayne is presented with an opportunity when the dragon of a Targaryen Princess is shot down near his camp. A once devout follower of his Knight's oath, Gwayne no longer sees much point when Criston Cole gifts him Princess, his only requirement being to keep her alive. The Hightower Knight has suppressed his own urges for so long, but now, he no longer wishes to, not when he's been given a sweet Princess just for himself.

Warnings: abuse of power, prisoner/captor dynamics, gross men, restraints, Gwayne is growing more delulu, future dubcon/noncon (not proof read)

Author’s Note: this chapter is seriously diving into just how much Gwayne is loosing it, and building up his motives and morals. He thinks of himself as a saviour and all his actions are rooted in this need to keep protecting the Princess.

Tag List: @torchbearerkyle @beautifultacodragon

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Two days had passed since the Princess was captured, and two days had passed since Gwayne had been given the responsibility of keeping her alive. For the first day, he’d faced little trouble as the still unconscious girl slumbered in his tent, her frame draped across his own makeshift bed. The turmoil was rife within the knight however; for he knew little of what to do with the girl. To keep her hidden away in his tent for the rest of the campaign seemed cruel, but letting the Princess roam around the camp was a risk that could bring doom to the army. While he didn’t know for certain of her likely reaction upon waking, Gwayne felt that the Princess would not take kindly to her newfound position as captive.

The second day helped the knight make up his mind, for the Princess began to rouse herself from her state. He’d been eating the claggy paste they called oatmeal when movement caught his eye from across the tent. With sluggish movements, the girl pushed her weak and frail body up to a somewhat seated position as her eyes took in her surroundings. Gwayne found the confused expression on her face amusing, but sighed deeply as her eyes widened in alarm upon laying her sights on the Hightower Green of his doublet and the red of his hair. He watches as she begins to sputter and gasp as she tries to speak, but despite her best efforts, her brain fails to deliver a coherent question to the knight.

“You are in no position to run, or much less even argue, so I suggest you still yourself whilst I explain the predicament you’ve found yourself in,” Gwayne’s lilting voice cutting across the tent, his words stilling any movement from the Princess. Though he’s attempted to make his tone lighter, it’s clear that his tone carries a subtle warning.

The Princess nods softly before speaking, her voice hoarse and croaky due to disuse, “Wh-who are you?”

She fears she knows and yet some part of her hopes that perhaps it has been a case of mistaken identity - that this man across from her, whose tent she lays in, is not the brother to the Queen Dowager.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower, Princess.” It’s all he says. Gwayne notices the crestfallen expression on her face deepen, her fingers beginning to play with the threads of the blanket. “Your dragon was slain after it flew above our territory, the scorpion striking it down with great accuracy. It was not expected that Rhaenyra would have sent her only daughter on dragonback and yet, there you were.”

“M-my drag-”

Gwayne doesn’t let her speak and instead continues his recounting. “Criston Cole made the decision that your life should be spared. He wishes to use you as tool to garner your mother’s surrender, and in turn, has granted you the most esteemed opportunity of a true camp experience.”

The sweet Princess can only listen silently and a small twinge strikes at Gwayne’s heart as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. He lets her process his words, scraping the last remnants of his oatmeal from the wooden bowl. When she says no more, the knight moves to leave the tent when a timid voice stops him in his tracks.

“What will you do with me?”

The Princess watches the man freeze, his broad back tense and rigid. He stays near the entrance, arms clutching the fabric of the tent as he seems to ponder his answer. She had heard stories of the honourable Ser Gwayne Hightower and yet, chills crash over her at his next words.

“Whatever I so wish, I suppose, as long as your heart still beats in your chest.”

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That night the princess remains in his bed, her hands bound and tied to the wooden post holding up the tents fabric. He’s given her some tether, at least allowing her to relax her arms and continue to rest. The Princess had almost drifted into an unpeaceful slumber when a rustling sound echoed around the tent, and a disheveled Hightower strode through the entrance. She had little time to process his intentions as the knight flung off his boots and undid his doublet, leaving him only in his trousers and tunic, watching wide-eyed as he stalked over to the makeshift bed.

“What are you doing?!” The princess shrieked as Gwayne lowered his body next to hers, the flimsy material dipping with his body weight.

“I am sleeping, or at least I hope to be.”

“Get away from me! How dare you,” the girl cried, her body tense as she flung her body out of the bed.

“You may struggle to recall this, but this is my tent. You have been sleeping in my bed and as much as it pleases me to see you enjoying it so, I too wish to rest,” Gwayne bites out, his tone laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled contempt. She could’ve been sleeping on the dirt floor and here she still complains.

Gwayne hears her muttering “no, no” and finds little inside of himself to care, instead tugging on the restraints binding her hands. The squeal as she falls back into the bed makes him smirk, pushing the girl into the fabric and covering her with a blanket.

“Sleep. And keep any foolish ideas you may have of escaping to yourself, for you have no dragon or the faintest idea of your location.”

Gwayne rolls away from the Princess, feeling smug with himself at the lack of response he receives, though the rigid frame of the girl seems to be conveying enough to him. She knows her hopes of escape will not come to fruition tonight, not with the Hightower sleeping by her side. She can’t even retaliate when his heavy frame drapes over her own during the night, arms slung across her stomach as he clings to her body heat. Restless, she lies there listening to his languid breaths, her own heart pounding with anxiety.

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The Princess had been in the camp for what felt like months, though her stay had only totalled five days. It seemed that her and her captor had fallen into a somewhat amicable routine: Gwyane would venture down with the Princess to the nearby lake to allow bathe, and the pair would break their fast with the rest of the soldiers. He would then return her to his tent while he talked strategy with Criston, leaving the girl alone, but not unsupervised. He’d given up use of the rope that had attached to her ankle after the first night in the bed, but the knight was still wary of the Princess trying to escape. In the evenings the two would sit by a small fire in the common area of the camp and eat their meager meals, Gwayne even allowing the girl her own cup of mead to wash the bread down. Gwayne couldn’t deny that it felt comforting to have another’s presence as a constant, especially after such long periods of loneliness and isolation. He even begins to warm to his captive, small chuckles leaving his lips more often as they conversed.

And yet their moments of ambivalence seemed to come crashing down as Gwayne left to fetch more mead, only to return and see a common soldier leering over the Princess. His stout body crowded into her space, his hands clutching at her shoulders, the fabric ripping in his harsh grip. From a distance it was difficult for Gwayne to hear the man’s words, though he held strong suspicions of their nature, however as he covered ground his ears picked up more and more.

“Mmm… do you think you could handle the cock of a real man, Princess?” the man muttered sleazily, “I don’t think you could. All you Royal cunts act like you’re above us, but maybe you just need a little demonstration.”

The Princess’s discomfort was plain for all to see, no more so than Gwayne. Her shaking frame and teary eyes look around broadly, pleading for an intervention as her bottom lip trembles in fear. It only takes him a moment to unsheath his sword, raising it to the neck of the soldier.

“Remove your vile hands before I do so for you,” he demands, his tone firm and gaze locked on the scum in front of him. Gwayne revels in the shock that crosses the soldier’s face and his disappearance from his sight shortly after. Common-born folk always aim far above their station, coveting what should never be sullied by them, Gwayne thinks.

The Hightower is caught up in his thoughts as he brings the Princess back to his tent. His chest feels as if it’s filling up with anger, breathing growing heavy at the feeling of the Princess trembling under his grip. Many soldiers had been invited to fight with a great army in the name of the King, and yet here they stood leering and preying on the King’s own niece. Such depravity should be expected of commoners but to dare even suggest of defiling a Princess of the Realm would ordinarily be treason.

It’s only the wide, teary eyes that finally snap Gwayne out of his thoughts. The Princess is clutching his arm, her body pressed into his side as she looks up, lower lip still trembling. The girl had been scared out of her mind, too weak and powerless to stop any advances, and now here she stood a wreck because of it. To see the Princess looking up at him in such a way sends a new series of thoughts running through Gwayne’s mind, tightening his breeches and quickening his breathing.

The men in the camp were only acting in such a depraved way due to a misguided conception that the Princess was not spoken for. They believed that she was free for the taking, for any common man to use and keep. She was his captive though no man seemed to acknowledge his stake of claim over her. She slept in his tent each night, in his bed, by his side. If that would not convince these vile men to back away, then only one thing would. Gwayne was a flawed man, he himself could acknowledge that, but he would protect the Princess as was asked of him, in any way he could. And if that meant he would need to make his position clearer to the camp then he would.

The Princess would understand the actions he needed to take, he thinks, as his hand begins to brush at the exposed skin on her shoulder where her dress had torn. As her breath hitches at the contact, Gwayne can’t help his growing smirk - she’s so responsive to him, not even aware of how she’s pushing her body closer to him unconscionably. He can feel her plush breasts press against his chest and her hips against his own, though she seems unaware of the growing hardness pressing against her stomach.

The Hightower knight assures himself that he won’t enjoy his next actions, for it is only his duty to keep the Princess safe and protected from those who wish to do her harm. He assures himself that the Seven will grant him forgiveness, for he is only acting as any nobleman would. Finally, Gwayne assures himself that the Princess would forgive him for what he was about to do - soon she would understand that becoming his own spoil of war would keep her safe from other men of less valiant intentions. She would thank him sooner or later - she would, he reassures himself over and over again as he begins to lead the Princess over to his makeshift bed. He ignores the thought in the back of his mind telling him that even if she withheld her forgiveness, he wouldn’t mind too much - he would care much less than he should.

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower imagine #gwayne hightower fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #game of thrones imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #gwayne imagine #gwayne x oc #gwayne fanfic #gwayne x reader #blessing in disguise

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hotvintagepoll · 1 day

Text

Danny Kaye (The Court Jester, The Inspector General)—Danny Kaye, idol of my childhood, maker of the weirdest faces! This man SETS HIMSELF ON FIRE and then puts himself out in a bucket in a movie based on a Gogol short story. In the same movie (Inspector General), he flirts by playing a carrot as a musical instrument. In Wonder Man, he's brilliant but struggles with things like riding buses. I have been envious of his fake Italian/French/German/Spanish monologues in The Court Jester for the past three decades. As Walter Mitty, he is SUPREMELY SILLY yet also somehow manages to be a comic foil for none other than Boris Karloff. All this is to say nothing of The William Tell Song (TV, thus not linked, but great.) I adore him.

Burgess Meredith (Of Mice and Men, That Uncertain Feeling, Second Chorus)—I first saw him in Idiot's Delight. He was standing next to Clark Gable on a balcony. I didn't even notice Gable was there, Meredith's scrungle game was too strong. -5'5 1/2 (1.66m) -He is THE weirdest little freak in That Uncertain Feeling, Merle Oberon picks him up in a psychiatrist's lobby. He's a concert pianist but he hates that people pay to hear him play, he can't stand them watching him. Vases offend him. He sees himself in an abstract painting. He's an absolutely chaotic gremlin and I love him SO much -He plays PENGUIN in the old Batman series!! What's scrunglier than that?! -"Was fascinated by the subject of non-human intelligence, particularly dolphins. He once believed that a dolphin somehow called to him for help in the middle of the night while he was staying at a friend's home on the beach. He ran out and found the dolphin, caught in a net under a dock down the beach, although there was no way he should have been able to know it was there. He released it, saving its life. He believed it had made some sort of connection with him, perhaps telepathic, to call for help." [IMDb] -He will forever be my favourite portrayal of George from Of Mice and Men, his speech about "seeds" and dreaming about a farm of his own wrecked me -In Tom, Dick and Harry, he's one of three suitors courting Ginger Rogers. It's zany and ridiculous, an absolute rollercoaster. He teachers to bowl with his sleeves rolled up. He drives a 3-wheeled motorcycle -He's in a MUSICAL with FRED ASTAIRE they're romantic rivals for PAULETTE GODDARD. He also wears a bucket hat. (Second Chorus) -His hair is VERY floofy in his early roles, I think that should be taken into consideration 4:54: [link to whole movie, editor has not watched it + can't vet but confirmed his hair is fluffy for the minute she did watch]

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here. Reminder that this is a movie poll, not a TV poll, in case any of you were flocking to any bird-brained ideas.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Danny Kaye:

He's so stupid. I love him.

youtube

Burgess Meredith:

Look at his face! He looks like a little field mouse, and a field mouse is scrungly. Admittedly I know him more from the Twilight Zone, in which he reached levels of peak scrungle, but I believe he deserves a place on this list.

#burgess meredith #danny kaye #hotvintagepoll #scrungly 1 #Youtube

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iridescentmirrorsgenshin · 2 days

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I have no other place to yap this to so I apologise in advance.

I find it interesting in Alhaitham and Kaveh’s voicelines they tend to talk about each other A LOT in a way of complaining. Such as in Alhaitham’s Good night voiceline where he says that he’d prefer that Kaveh wouldn’t be home at all because all the chaos and noise he makes in the dead of the night. Or in Kaveh’s Good Morning voiceline where he says that he hopes that you don't run into someone who ruins your day first thing in the morning.

I guess it’s what makes other people think that they despise each other’s company. Yet they’re always viewed as a pair and Alhaitham could’ve kicked Kaveh out of the house ages ago. But what’s your opinion on that?

Hiya! there's no need to apologise, this is a safe space for all haikaveh! When I tell you your ask is scratching my brain I mean ITCHING, I have so many thoughts about this part of their dynamic so thank you for enabling me <3 This turned out to be rather long, so I hope it’s helpful to you!

The contention in both Alhaitham and Kaveh’s character stories and voice lines seems to be to create intrigue about the two as individuals, and, in turn, their relationship.

Alhaitham’s ‘good night’ voice line instantly serves as a contradiction to his character. It’s interesting, and telling, that Alhaitham, who is essentially Kaveh’s landlord, and mentions this within his fourth character story, alludes to Kaveh by using ‘roommate’ rather than ‘tenant’. ‘Landlord’ evokes a position of authority over the tenant, whereas ‘roommate’ indicates an equality between two people sharing a house – since it’s Alhaitham who advocates for the term ‘roommate’, it’s telling that, as opposed to what Kaveh believes, Alhaitham wants to establish equality between them.

In terms of what Alhaitham says in this voice line, it explicitly raises a contradiction in the form of a question: if Alhaitham is truly bothered by his roommate’s antics, why doesn’t he simply evict Kaveh?

This is relevant as this question is also posed when we initially meet Kaveh within the Archon Quest, as Kaveh states he dislikes Alhaitham’s personality, to which Alhaitham responds by saying if he bothers Kaveh so much, Kaveh always has the option to move out of the house – to which Kaveh perceives as a threat, only to then dismiss this as Alhaitham ‘changing the subject’, which seems to mean that this ‘threat’ is taken as baseless. As this isn’t called back to, this seems to be the case.

There is no real threat of eviction, and regardless of their disputes, Alhaitham ultimately gives Kaveh no ultimatum to move out. In fact, as discussed here (page 27), as we are meeting Alhaitham and Kaveh for the first time, Alhaitham allowing Kaveh to live with him contradicts his established character of living a life free of inconvenience. This instantly creates intrigue around his and Kaveh’s dynamic – who is Kaveh to Alhaitham for this exception to be made to Alhaitham’s peaceful way of life?

(An additional note of interest is that Alhaitham’s solution to the noise problem seems to be more uncomfortable than calling on Kaveh and telling him to stop his work. Alhaitham says that he’d rather not wear his noise-cancelling earpieces to bed, implying that he does so when noise is a problem at night. However, there’s no mention of Kaveh being stubborn when confronting this issue, which is why he takes to wearing his ear pieces, or any mention of confrontation at all. From this voice-line, it seems that Alhaitham avoids interaction by opting for the least comfortable option, which can be a contradiction to his character. As this is a rather brief voice-line, it’s difficult to ascertain why, but I like the idea that Kaveh is productive at night, and Alhaitham prefers not to impose on Kaveh’s work process – but this is more a headcanon than evidenced interpretation.)

Returning back to the contradiction within this voice-line, at a surface glance, this does appear to be a general complaint about Kaveh, and this can be found in Alhaitham’s lines about Kaveh, and also when discussing Tighnari. Alhaitham refers to Kaveh as ‘overly sensitive’, and ‘constantly making a fuss’.

These can easily read solely as complaints, but when looking to the original CN translation, another interpretation can be found here. Alhaitham describes Kaveh as ‘caring’ or ‘tender’, which is exactly how Kaveh is described within the 3.6 special program (as per minimushiroom on twt), which can allude to how Kaveh is considerate to a fault, in that this serves as a detriment to himself.

This can be seen in Alhaitham’s other Kaveh-centred voice-line, in which he describes Kaveh buying keychains in order to provide meals for sick children, even though healthcare is free in Sumeru. Alhaitham clearly holds the view that this was a redundant action, as Kaveh, being in debt, most likely doesn’t have the money to spend on such investments that are, evidently, dubious.

As Alhaitham provides a rational view here, this contrasts with Kaveh’s act of generosity fuelled by emotion – which highlights the contention Alhaitham has with Kaveh, in that Kaveh places himself in dangerous situations for the sake of others. However, as this can be perceived as a solely derisive line, this essential context is lacking, and can be easily misconstrued. (I think the EN translation here also coincides with this narrative, as minimushiroom notes that the original CN has Alhaitham refer to Kaveh’s sensitivity in a positive way, rather than contemptuously, as the English can be interpreted as.)

Kaveh, similarly, can be seen to complain about Alhaitham in his own voice-lines. This can be seen in the 'Good Morning' voice-line you've mentioned, where Kaveh complains about having to see Alhaitham in the morning, which 'ruins' his day. Additionally, Kaveh's voice-lines discussing Alhaitham refer to Alhaitham as ‘infuriating’ and not wanting to give Alhaitham the satisfaction of thanking him, despite Alhaitham helping him out. However, there is more nuance in these voice-lines than Kaveh simply ‘disliking’ Alhaitham, as this dislike is never stated - rather that he and Alhaitham have a difficult relationship in comparison to the ‘close’ friendship of their past.

Kaveh describes their relationship being a ‘mixed bag’, of both negatives and positives, as well as establishing a thorough understanding of Alhaitham, where other people may misinterpret Alhaitham as they ‘don’t know him well enough’. Additionally, Kaveh notes that he knows that Alhaitham can present himself in a more ‘likeable’ manner, but that Alhaitham refuses to do so, which refers to Kaveh’s contention with Alhaitham discussed within his character stories. This, in turn, generates curiosity, as it appears that Kaveh holds an in-depth knowledge of Alhaitham that the player isn’t privy to.

Referring back to Alhaitham’s ‘Good Night’ voiceline, the question raised is, if Alhaitham has a problem with Kaveh, why doesn’t he just evict Kaveh? And the answer can be found by digging further into Alhaitham’s character stories. Looking to Alhaitham’s fourth character story, it states that he is aware of the dissatisfaction Kaveh may have with their living arrangement but that ‘it matters not to him’.

This means that he is aware that Kaveh may be unhappy with having to rely on someone else for a stable livelihood, something which his pride doesn’t naturally allow, but that this is also exacerbated due to their previous falling out and the current contentions Kaveh has with him.

At first, this can seem rather abrasive, which does fall in line with Alhaitham’s egoism as this doesn’t directly impact ‘the self’ (discussed further here), however, what immediately follows is Alhaitham’s belief that he and Kaveh are mirrors, in that his own perspective of the world will be enhanced - in the og CN, ‘completed’ -by Kaveh’s own world view.

The implication generated here with the explicit term ‘mirror’, is that, just as Alhaitham benefits from Kaveh, Kaveh, in turn, can benefit from Alhaitham. (As a side note, it is interesting then that the voice-lines in question can be seen to mirror each other – Kaveh mentions Alhaitham in ‘Good Morning’ whereas Alhaitham mentions Kaveh in ‘Good Night’.)

Returning back to Alhaitham’s character story, rather than merely reflecting each other philosophically speaking, I’d say that this also points to their respective progression as people, not just scholars.

To me, this is reminiscent of what Alhaitham says to Kaveh in A Parade of Providence – being ‘correct’, ultimately, doesn’t matter, as there is no ‘correct’ path in life, meaning that there is no ‘correct’ philosophy to shape and guide a person. Rather, Alhaitham asserts that, ultimately, their opposing philosophies are not the issue that exists between them.

The issue that does exist, then, can be surmised from Alhaitham’s actions during the event (discussed further here), in which he researches into Sachin to gauge his influence over Kaveh’s father journeying into the desert, with implicit hopes of providing closure for Kaveh, and potentially assuaging Kaveh’s guilt. This is a personal act with a personal motive; the underlying motive being concern, as opposed to an assertion of ‘correctness’.

In my opinion, I think Alhaitham’s actions during A Parade of Providence are a direct reference, and fulfilment, of Kaveh’s fifth character story. I’ve discussed here that the main reason for the ending of their friendship was them asserting the correctness of a philosophy over the other, and proposing one philosophy as the ‘solution’ to the other’s perceived flaws.

Here Alhaitham can be seen to use Kaveh’s past as the reason for his excessive altruism, implicitly referring to Kaveh’s guilt over being the supposed catalyst for his father’s demise. This final comment of Alhaitham’s appears to be the first time this has been mentioned between them, and it’s enough to be perceived as weaponisation – leading to Kaveh severing their friendship.

In A Parade of Providence, Alhaitham is shown to only have taken the role of commentator to research into Sachin, whose research we are told (by Kaveh), he has no explicit interest in, and it is heavily implied that the only reason he looked further into Sachin, was to prove to link between Sachin and Kaveh’s father. Alhaitham seems to want to absolve Kaveh of this past guilt in hopes that Kaveh will stop placing himself in the cycle of self-sabotage.

For me, when viewing this as a parallel, it highlights that Alhaitham’s motivation in speaking out during their days as students was out of concern for Kaveh, although while holding egoism as ultimately beneficial, and therefore perceivably ‘correct’. The ‘issue’ they’re currently debating is not expressly stated, and although it is unclear if Kaveh understands the implication (as discussed here), as ‘correctness’ has been overturned, there seems to be little left than the personal.

Relating this back to Alhaitham’s fourth character story, for me, Alhaitham referring to Kaveh as a mirror isn’t just referring to Kaveh as a scholar, but a person as a whole. As Alhaitham seeks to improve himself, personally, through Kaveh, it seems that he hopes to be able to benefit Kaveh in turn.

As for Kaveh’s complaints regarding Alhaitham, these can be contextualised within his own character stories. As Kaveh ultimately severed the friendship between him and Alhaitham, Alhaitham offering Kaveh to live with him, despite Kaveh revoking his previous understanding of Alhaitham (as discussed here, page 67), causes Kaveh to be overtly suspicious.

In Kaveh’s Old Sketchbook, it is mentioned that Kaveh believes there to be an ulterior motive for Alhaitham inviting him to share a house, as he believes that Alhaitham wouldn’t do something for someone else without an exchange.

Kaveh, then, openly distrusts Alhaitham due to this unspoken motive, and although he takes on chores to ease his sense of guilt of being a perceived burden, a contention arises here. Due to their previously ended friendship, and with how Alhaitham hurt Kaveh, and how Kaveh may believe he hurt Alhaitham (discussed here), Kaveh sees no reason for Alhaitham to want him around – he treats their relationship as an exchange, asking what Alhaitham could possibly want for him.

Although Alhaitham views Kaveh as a mirror, and therefore, respects Kaveh’s perspectives, Kaveh can potentially view their opposing philosophies as a negative rather than a positive as he had done in the past (as discussed here), as it, perceivably, was what led to the end of their friendship. In this, Kaveh views Alhaitham as disparaging him and his views. As mentioned in his character story, he has no reservations in telling Alhaitham of his debt as Alhaitham has already seen through him in the past, and yet again, upon meeting at the tavern.

Although Alhaitham perceivably views him unfavourably, and his comments and complaints appear to propagate this interpretation, Alhaitham also seems to have no issue with keeping Kaveh around, and interacting with Kaveh, regardless of the problems Kaveh expressly has with him.

To Kaveh, it could be that as Alhaitham has already seen the worst of him, and appears to have no real issue with their stilted rapport, there is no point in donning a front and using niceties. He is open with his issues with Alhaitham, and, in turn, Alhaitham is open with him.

This appears to be a dual negative and positive for Kaveh, as he describes Alhaitham’s constancy as ‘the most unshakable part of one's past is a friend that will never change’. In this sense, his unsteady rapport with Alhaitham is reliable, and therefore, has no reason to change.

Clearly, there is a large disconnect between Alhaitham’s view of Kaveh and how Kaveh perceives Alhaitham’s view of him. As previously mentioned in the discussion of A Parade of Providence, there is an unspoken ‘issue’ between them, and this can be interpreted as dire misconceptions borne from miscommunication.

As discussed, Kaveh and Alhaitham reference each other a lot in their respective voice-lines and their character stories. This alone is enough to connect them, regardless of the cruciality of their mirror motif, as they are key figures of each other’s past, present, and seemingly, future. Despite this, it’s as you say, there’s a common perception to view them as mutually disliking each other, and, to me, this is based upon their first initial interaction, and the way they refer to each other in their own character stories and voice-lines.

It’s notable that Alhaitham refers to Kaveh in his voice-lines when Kaveh is not explicitly relevant, such as in his Good Night voice-line, and, most interestingly, when Alhaitham discusses Tighnari.

This could be because Alhaitham knows of Tighnari through Kaveh, but as this connection isn’t stated, it reads as Alhaitham mentioning Kaveh for no other reason than to complain about his perceived naivety regarding relations with others. But as this is a voice-line designated to discussing Tighnari, it’s interesting, and incredibly noticeable, that Alhaitham then discusses Kaveh instead. It’s similar to what Kaveh can be seen to do, and is observed to do by others, in relation to discussing Alhaitham.

When it comes to Kaveh, however, his complaining of Alhaitham can be seen to link with his process of dealing with troubles in his work. In his Hangout, he states that he takes his work to heart because he cares about it, which is expressed in the same quest in which Kaveh and the Traveller run into Alhaitham in the House of Daena (discussed further here, page 219).

Drawing a parallel here can further contextualise Kaveh’s complaining of Alhaitham – if Kaveh truly disliked Alhaitham, there seems to be no reason for Alhaitham to remain so relevant to him, both in conversation, and in private thought. Additionally, Kaveh is described as an empathetic person, and when dealing with others, he is thusly seen to look for another perspective rather than act on his own subjective perspective.

Looking at his voice-line on Dori, for example, expresses his distaste for Dori pressuring him for Mora due to his debt, however, he also empathises with her, and states that he senses there must be a reason why Dori acts in such a way.

In contrast, this empathy can be perceived as missing in his treatment of Alhaitham, and therefore Kaveh complaining about Alhaitham can be perceived as blatant dislike – which contradicts Kaveh’s benevolence and empathy, which A Parade of Providence particularly stresses.

Kaveh’s treatment of Alhaitham can be seen as deliberately contradictory, as it can cause the player to question why Kaveh reacts in such a singular way to Alhaitham, just as why Alhaitham reacts in a singular way to Kaveh.

In reference to Alhaitham, whilst Alhaitham tends to complain about Kaveh in turn, his actions reveal him. He invites Kaveh to live with him, gives no eviction date, pays for Kaveh’s tabs willingly, (supposedly) buys wine as an apology, and goes out of his way to ensure dialogue with Kaveh – which contradicts his own character stories, in which he appears to favour solitude, and only greets those he considers his friends ‘with a nod or two’.

Moreover, Alhaitham is established as considering Kaveh a necessity to his ‘peaceful life’ he seeks to maintain (as discussed here), and can be seen to implicitly consider Kaveh one of his priorities within his Story Quest.

The idea that Alhaitham dislikes Kaveh seems to stem from Alhaitham being taken literally when voicing an opinion, or an issue, or simply joking, in reference to Kaveh – despite his character stories highlighting that Alhaitham often uses sarcasm in order to subvert expectations.

Alhaitham expressly states that he prefers to be seen as inscrutable, and unknown, by the general public, and uses subversion as a means to do so. In these character stories, Alhaitham openly encourages speculation of his own words.

Without this context, it seems easy to simplify Alhaitham to purely speaking factually when first addressing Kaveh in the Archon Quest – stating that having to explain things to Kaveh is ‘a nuisance’, and yet, it is overlooked that Alhaitham stays in the House of Daena, regardless, knowing Kaveh would find him again.

On the whole, in my opinion, Kaveh’s feelings towards Alhaitham cannot be simplified to ‘dislike’ as this is dually an inherent misunderstanding of his character, and of his and Alhaitham’s relationship, just as Alhaitham’s feelings towards Kaveh cannot be simplified to ‘dislike’ for this same reason.

In the beginning, Alhaitham and Kaveh are not supposed to be perceived as friendly, as Kaveh denies the association of ‘friends’, and Paimon describes them to the Traveller as ‘problematic’.

The reason for this is due to their character arcs being intertwined – the core issue is posed in Kaveh’s fifth character story, in that the question is raised if a compromise can be reached, if both sides of the mirror, can be balanced. At the beginning, they are entirely at odds, but even footing must be found.

I’ve noticed a shift in online discourse after Cyno’s second story quest, as the progression in Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship is noticeable – deliberately, due to the flashback scene within their house (which I’ve discussed in detail here, page 122). To me, it’s more common to form the assumption that Alhaitham and Kaveh dislike each other in the Archon Quest, but with recent developments, and, hopefully, future ones, this perception is being overturned in online communities. Perhaps that’s just wishful thinking, but I’m still hopeful!

#haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #thank you so much for your ask anon! it really ate away at my brain #haikaveh's writing is just so !?!?!? theres so many layers to peel back so a surface read of their relationship can be misconstrued as toxi #but ultimately i think these voice lines and details of their character stories are for people to question WHY they are Like That with #each other and it's one of the things i love about them that nothing is upfront or simple it really suits their themes so well #alhaitham constantly questions the world around him and flips language on its head and kaveh challenges the world with his ideals but works #with rigid principles of design and construction and he can't tell sarcasm from genuine praise which also adds to why he takes alhaitham's #words so personally... but this is improving now?? i am saying thank you cyno's second story quest <333 #also the narrative that haikaveh can't stand each other seems to be more of a western thing from what i've seen online #and i think this is possibly due to the EN translation where the CN is less derisive or abrasive?#thank you to those who translate so the nuance is pointed out! <3

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