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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 5 months ago

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˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't.

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #pinefic #red dead redemption #arthur morgan smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic

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spinningwebsandtales · 6 months ago

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Imagine Hangman Trying To Convince You To Go Out With Him

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Beer, flirtations, and teasing

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) Wow! Look at me having a Top Gun idea in what seems like forever! I always love going back to movies I wrote so much for! But sometimes it takes a hot minute to get imagine ideas, but I had this idea a few weeks ago and it's been a little bit of a pain to get it from my brain into a post. But I finally succeeded and hopefully this makes the Hangman/ Glen Powell fangirlies happy! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Taglist: @chaoticcassidy, @the-marshals-wife, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

The Hard Deck was more rowdy than it had been in awhile. With the Top Gun pilots celebrating a hard won victory, them and everyone on base had came in to celebrate. It was busy enough that Penny called in backup to help serve the rambunctious pilots who deserved every drink they ordered. It wasn't often that she called you in, but when Penny did you knew that the night was going to be a crazy one. You had a reputation amongst the pilots, as being no nonsense and out right refusing any advances towards you before the navy men even finished a sentence. While the rumors kept the majority of would be suitors away, it only made the top pilots in Top Gun more bold.

With drink orders coming in so fast that you were barely able to keep up with them. Penny stayed close by picking up the orders you couldn't handle and ringing up tabs. You didn't pay much attention to the people that came to the counter until a familiar uniform caught your eye.

"Give me just a second and I'll be right with you," you handed off two beer bottles before setting into opening several more.

"I'll wait all night for you if that's what it takes," the pilot replied.

You stiffened, recognizing that voice. He was a notorious flirt and never knew when to take no for an answer. It wasn't your first time dealing with him and this moment would not be the last either. No matter how many times you shot him down he always kept coming back, always cocky and sure of himself.

A few moments ago...

Hangman didn't know the definition of the word defeat and he had his eye on the prize. And that was taking out the most difficult female bartender in the Hard Deck's lineup.

"Dude," Coyote tugged on Hangman's arm stopping the pilot in his tracks. "When are you going to give up? She's shot down more pilots than Maverick has and Rooster crashed and burned just last night with her."

"That's Rooster," Hangman scoffed. "I'm different."

"No you're not. What is this the third time you've tried?"

"Fourth."

Coyote rolled his eyes but watched Hangman walk away.

Now....

"Oh great," you sighed, "it's you again."

Hangman chuckled leaning against the counter, trying to get as close as possible. You took a step back, removing the last bottle cap a little violently and passing the drinks out. Grabbing more you glared at him sending a cap flying in his direction.

"Aren't you glad to see me," Hangman asked.

"Not particularly. I don't have time for you."

"And here I thought that the whole world had time for me," he smirked.

Rolling your eyes you turned away, another group of people calling for your attention. But still though you had walked away, Hangman stayed. His eyes never leaving you, watching you closely. You tried ignoring him, but when that didn't work, you glared. That only made his grin widen and he gave you a little wave. You slammed glasses down a little harder than necessary as your patience was wearing thin.

"Why do we have to do this every time?"

"Because," Hangman purred, "I don't like taking no for an answer."

"I noticed."

Watching you intensely while you grabbed another bottle of beer, you removed the cap and took Hangman's hand. His fingers immediately curled around yours and you slapped them back open, causing him to jolt before you placed the cold glass bottle in his palm, then wrapped his fingers around it and waved your hand in a 'shoo' motion. Digging some money from your tip jar, you put the cash into the register, 'Shoo. It's on me. Have a nice life Bagman."

Hangman laughed, defeated once more but not done in the slightest as he made his way back to the pilots crowding into one corner of the bar. Laughing at him and pointing fingers in his direction. What they didn't know was he was wounded, but not crashing and burning just yet. He saw that glint in your eyes and he had to sink the hook in a little more and he would have you.

Hours later and Penny flipped the sign and locked the door. You were finishing cleaning up the last bit of the bar when a check was waved in front of your face.

"Thank you so much for coming in and helping out," she said taking a seat.

"No problem," you replied putting the check in your pocket.

"I see Hangman has taken quite a liking to you," she grinned mischeviously.

"Ugh," you rolled your eyes, "don't remind me."

"He's not a bad guy."

"Sure if you like egotistical pilot maniacs. He's very obnoxious."

"Isn't that what makes him charming?"

"Absolutely not!"

Penny laughed before taking the rag from your hands, "Go on and go home. It's getting late."

"Let me know whenever you need help again."

Penny waved and you made sure to lock the door behind you. She wasn't lying that it was getting late as the sun had long ago set and quiet had settled over the beach. It was always a little creepy, especially the walk to your car. Normally you weren't scared but it was just a little off putting when no one was around and anything could happen.

"Leaving already?"

A voice sounded close by your shoulder causing you to jump and spin around. Hangman started to laugh at your startled expression, causing you to start punching him in the shoulder.

"Don't do that to me!"

"I was hoping you'd jump into my arms instead, I wasn't taking into account that you're a fighter. Can you please stop hitting me now?"

"Depends," you were fuming, "are you ready to stop being a jerk?!"

"Not particularly."

"Then I'm not done beating you yet!"

He let you get in a few more whacks before grabbing your fist and keeping a firm grip on it. You sucked in a breath, gaze flickering from his face to your joined hands back again to his face. He never stopped smiling.

"C'mon let me walk you to your car," Hangman cut the silence. The tension eased from your body and you tried yanking your hand away, only for him to tighten his grip. You huffed but relented, though you did start to protest when he intertwined your fingers together.

You could admit to yourself, that you did feel better that you weren't walking alone in the dark. Hangman had been waiting, not wanting to give up just yet as he really did like you. He just enjoyed aggravating you because you were so easily riled up.

"If you felt uncomfortable walking alone you could have said something to me," he mumbled rubbing at his neck.

"I appreciate it," you looked away squeezing his hand. "Maybe you aren't that major of an egotistical jerk."

Hangman laughed, releasing your hand so you can grab your car keys. "That makes me feel better then."

You unlocked the door and he opened the driver side door before you could even reach for the handle. Ushering you in he closed the door, letting you get buckled before leaning against the door. You rolled the window down and he stuck his head in.

"Thank you," you picked at the threads on the steering wheel.

"You're welcome," he tapped his fingers against your arm. "Does this mean that I'm growing on you?"

"Possibly."

"Think you could stomach a date with me?"

"I'll think about it."

"A kiss for your knight in a pilot uniform," he pointed to his lips.

"Absolutely not," you laughed rolling the window up causing him to hurry up and yank his head out. You backed up leaving Hangman in the headlights as he waved at you. For such a smug Top Gun pilot he could actually be really sweet. He wouldn't give up and you could respect that so for the first time you broke down.

Quickly rolling the window back down as you drove away you yelled out the window.

"Hey Bagman! Pick me up here tomorrow evening and buy me dinner!"

He laughed loudly, "It's a date!"

"Sure it is!"

You drove off, leaving an extremely happy pilot behind.

#Jake Seresin X Reader #Jake Seresin / Reader #Hangman X Reader #Hangman / Reader #Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #Jake Seresin Imagine #Hangman Imagine #Hangman #Not My Gif #My Writing

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henwinchesters · 7 months ago

Note

thinking about semi-public sex with gojo, except he can't keep quiet not for a second

TW : NSFW top! mreader ﾉ afab! bottom gojo satoru ﾉ exhibitionism ﾉ gagging ﾉ degrading ﾉ reader is kinda mean ﾉ teasing ﾉ orgasm denial (small mentions)

satoru was a risk taker. call it on a count of his cocky personality, or the fact that he was the strongest sorcerer to grace the lands of japan—but taking risk is what made him who he was. there was no one strong enough to stop him, no one to tell him “no” or “that not right”. he did at one point in his life but he never listened. It wasn’t his thing.

satoru was a brat. you’d learned that about him within the first three weeks of your relationship. he didn’t listen. it was like being on his worst behavior was second nature for him. learning to tame the untrainable took time and skill, but you were willing to learn.

he loved to push your buttons, see how far he could take you before you blew. satoru knew what exactly made you tick, even if you didn’t show it externally, he knew on that on the inside you were thinking of every way you could break him apart.

and that was what exactly was going through his mind as he teased you underneath the table with his foot, toes pressing among the bulge that formed in your dress pants as you and yaga discussed business about a current student of his; yuji itadori.

you maintained eye contact with the older man while he spoke, satoru pressing a grin into the palm of his hand. yaga couldn’t see it, but you could feel those piercing eyes on you. expecting, waiting, pleading for some type of reaction but he knew you wouldn’t give in, especially in front of someone.

so he teased and teased, watching you tense, feeling you twitch beneath his toes.

but he couldn’t help but grin as you grabbed his hand entirely to sweet? lacing your fingers together as you pulled him into a vacant classroom. “come on baby, it was just a bit of teasing. it ain’t my fault you can’t handle what i give.”

you’re quiet but satoru knows he won when grab the back of his head and pull him into a kiss, one that’s full of nothing but tongue and teeth. there’s a fight for dominance but it’s only because he doesn’t want to give it so easily—all it takes is a firm grip around his neck, fingers bruising his skin for him to whimper like a bitch on go pliant in your hold.

within minutes you’re buried inside of him, his pants and boxers long discarded as you hammer into his ruddy pussy. his knees are pushed into his chest, his toes curling as he lies flat on his back and all open for you. he’s crying, it always ends with him crying. he was somehow still loud, even with his own underwear stuff in his mouth—the material wet with drool and tears. his beautiful body jolted along the desk, the small mounds on his chest shaking too. strands of his white hair almost glued to his forehead from the sweat.

you give a few slow thrusts that drag your cock deliciously against satoru’s spongey spot. he melts, his eyes damn near roll into the back of his head. you’ve been doing this long enough— satoru’s close enough to orgasm—that every touch feels like a shot of pure sensation up his spine.

“come on pretty boy. you can take what i can give right?”

he hates when you do that. he hates when you give him the same energy from earlier. but it’s so fucking hot when you tease him back—when you deliver slow strokes to his throbbing cunt and his cocklet, all red and wet jumps from the onslaught. satoru’s head lolls back on hits the desk, between your words and the amazing pressure of your cock, he was sure his brain was oozing from his pussy.

his chest rises with every thrust as you pick up the pace and it brings him embarrassment just how much wetter he gets. just then you rotate your hips in a way that has his back arching off of the desk and an incredibly loud moan leaving his pink swollen lips.

“what is it to much? this is what you wanted right? to be taken right where anyone could walk past and hear you taking this dick like a whore”

you drop his legs and lean over him, satoru’s legs coming to wrap around your waist as his hands find your back. he knew he’d something to ground him. you grip the edge the edge of the desk and the other grips his jaw, forcing him to look you dead in the eyes as you make his pussy your home, as you force his walls to remember the way you feel nestled deep in his stomach. the gag is completely soaked, just as you are in his cunt.

“we’re gonna go until i deem you fit enough to cum. i don’t care who walks in and see’s. you’re gonna fucking learn satoru.”

#𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐗 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.#afab! gojo satoru #gojo satoru #top male reader #dom male reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo x male reader

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balletfilmss · 8 months ago

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DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW ANGRIER

✸ pairing: jason grace x daughter of minerva! reader

✸ summary: you don’t know anything about jason anymore, except for the fact that you hate him for leaving

✸ warnings: kinda angsty…BUT I SWEAR THERE’S FLUFF AT THE END!! hurt / comfort type, & i think i swore like twice whoopsie

✸ notes: this might be my longest fic yet, hello? i mean, that’s not saying much but STILL

you didn’t know much about jason grace as of lately. it was true that there once was a time that even the smallest of scratches on his skin weren’t a mastery to you, a time when you knew him better than you knew yourself.

until six months ago, when he disappeared without a trace and left you all alone.

as a daughter of minerva, you’d never had many friend to begin with aside from the two praetors of new rome, for your skills and intellect set you apart from your fellow members of the legion and as leader of the first cohort, you were high up in the ranks anyways.

but now, six months later, you found yourself filling the post of second praetor not because you wanted to, but because you had to. the weight of the world had fallen upon your shoulders in only a fortnight

then, percy jackson had appeared.

you’d given him the position you held graciously, but it did nothing to repair the damage done that caused you to be emotional and physically strung out beyond relief.

you didn’t know much about jason grace anymore, except for the fact that you hated him, and unlike reyna, would not be welcoming him back with open arms when he arrived at camp jupiter as percy said he would.

and arrive he did, aboard a flying warship with three other demigods you’d never seen in your life.

while percy, reyna, and the rest of the legion welcomed them in with open arms, you were nowhere to be found.

jason’s eyes scanned the crowd over and over again and each time failed to find just the face he was looking for.

ever since his memories had been returned, the son of jupiter had been driving himself crazy with anticipation to see you again.

the curve of your soft lips and spark in your eyes; the flex of you muscles as you fought and the amused quirk of your brow when you inevitably won. he remembered it all and he missed it all so much that he thought it just might suffocate him. to him, every minute without you was another minute closer to asphyxiation.

fortunately, even after six months, you were still the same girl he had always known. the same one who would tie her shoe laces with two loops instead of one and always had to step out the door with her left foot first.

the same girl who knew him better than himself, and who he knew just as well.

so when he walked into your typical getaway spot, you couldn’t really say you were surprised.

hidden and tucked away in the corner of the new rome library you sat, a book you could’ve even say the name of propped open in front of you just in case someone came in and you needed to look occupied.

you hadn’t read a word since you’d gotten in there, for your brain was too busy reeling with thoughts about the boy who was now sliding his way through the front door to the library in search of you.

you heard footsteps enter the otherwise pen-drop silent room and darted your eyes to the page of your book, resting your face in your hand and letting hair fall over your face in hopes it might cover you up and by some miracle, conceal your identity.

but unfortunately for you, jason would know you anywhere.

he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, his darling girl hiding away in a corner, trying to disguise herself from the world. you weren’t in your official centurion getup like everyone else, but instead jeans and a purple camp jupiter t-shirt that exposed the four lines scored across your arm.

four years. four years that you had known jason, and four years that had been stolen from him just like that.

“yn?” he uttered, asking even though he knew for certain that it was you.

you didn’t answer, just flipped the page of the book you weren’t reading. it bruised his heart a little bit, but he expected nothing less ever since your absence at the welcome party.

he walked closer, testing the water in hopes that you’d at least spare him a glance up. when you didn’t even give him that much, he crossed the room fully until he was standing in front of the table you sat at.

“i braced myself when reyna told me you were mad, but i didn’t expect for you to ignore my existence entirely,” he told you after the silence became too much to bear.

with a huff, you snapped your book dramatically shut and looked up at him, avoiding eye contact and making yourself seem as uninterested as you could possibly scrounge up.

for the first time in months, you took in the beautiful sight that was jason grace. he looked almost the same, with his starry eyes and pretty smile. except he was dressed in a eye-stabbingly bright orange shirt that read camp half-blood on it and was seemingly a size too small, considering how it distractingly hugged his biceps a little too snugly.

he still looked like him, but if he was masquerading around as someone he wasn’t. a son of zeus and not jupiter. a quest leader and not a praetor. a teenage boy, not a soldier.

“library’s closed, and you don’t have authorization to override that rule anymore,” you told him bluntly. “or did you forget how to read, too?”

“okay, ouch,” he nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to stop himself from fidgeting. but that was the girl he knew: assertive and naturally bossy, for lack of a better word. a true leader, just like himself.

“i’m trying to read, leave,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes off of his.

“i know you’re not reading that,” he rolled his eyes, knowing that you didn’t see it became if you had, he would’ve been chided.

“yes, i am.” you insisted, reopening the book.

“sweetheart,” he sighed, pushing the cover shut again and pointing to the bleary title. “it’s in italian. which if i remember correctly, you don’t speak.”

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you were mad at him, gods damn it, and you were gonna act like it.

slamming the book down, you pushed yourself to your feet and began towards the door, not giving him the decency of another word.

poor jason didn’t know what was going on. he didn’t know why you were acting this way or why he didn’t get the overwhelming joy of you running to his arms like annabeth had percy’s. no, instead you ran off at the mention of him and refused to meet his eyes.

he’d lost six months with you, and briefly lost the memories of all four years of you, there was no way he was going to lose you now too.

the fear of losing you— all of you— for good had a grip on him so tight that it made him catch your wrist with his hand before you could leave, and the touch of your skin against his sent a refreshing shock through his senses. one chance was all he needed to make sure you didn’t slip through his fingers again.

“don’t go,” he said. “please. i— i don’t really know what’s wrong, but i know that i want to and that i want to fix it.”

for the first time again, your eyes met his. but where his were soft and concerned, yours were glassy and inflamed.

“you don’t know?” you glowered loudly, voice echoing in the silent and empty library, eyes holding angry tears. “jason, you left me! and for months, i tried to figure out what was wrong with me that made you do it, until everyone reminded me that it doesn’t matter what i think or how i feel, because there’s people to take care of and responsibilities to handle.”

jason stared at you, all the things he’d planned to say suddenly lost as he processed your broken words.

“and yeah, i know now that it was all juno, but by the time i was told, everything had already changed too much.”

“too much?” he questioned, looking down at you like a wounded puppy and yanking on your heartstrings.

it wasn’t his fault, none of it was. the involuntary leaving, the memories being wiped, the identity shattering feeling of being an amnesiac. it was all juno and her twisted plans and jason was just a victim of it, and you knew that.

but he had forgotten you once, so what would stop him from doing so again? or worse, what if he had gotten all these memories of you back and the fresher version of his mind had decided that you just weren’t worth it anymore? maybe you never were.

you were just protecting yourself, your heart.

at first when he left, you’d prayed every night he’d come back, wished on every shooting star and dandelion. but then you were forced to accept that no, he wasn’t coming back and somebody had to step up. you had to step up.

it hurt so hard to have your life flipped upside down and take on more than you could even imagine, you just couldn’t do it again.

who’s to say that the minute you let him back in, he wasn’t going to be ripped right away again?

“too much.” you restated. “before percy showed up, i was filling your position and holding my own. all while people either asked me what happened to you or looked at me like i was some poor, little wounded deer, and helping reyna keep everything from falling apart, and with fucking octavian breathing down my neck! and the whole time i couldn’t think of anything but you, and your stupid…you!”

you groaned and shoved your face in your hands to hide the tears that had already started falling, the frustration becoming too much.

slowly, jason put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you into his chest, to which you let yourself slowly collapse into his embrace, your hands the only barrier between your face and his chest.

he wrapped his arms around you carefully like he’d done many times before, rocking back and forth as a silent attempt to calm you. he felt a little guilty for enjoying the feeling of you in his arms again, given the circumstances.

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered into the cotton fabric of his ugly orange shirt. “it’s not your fault. and you don’t deserve to be yelled at or ignored. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “i’m sorry for letting you think there was ever anything that could make me want to leave you. and, i’m sorry for not remembering everything sooner.”

you must’ve looked pretty damn rough for him to be apologizing that his memories were stolen by a goddess.

“you really remember?” you whispered into his chest, scared that if you said it too loudly the answer might change.

“yeah,” he answered, picking his head up off yours and tapping the back of your head to draw you out of his chest.

you didn’t go far, looking up at him while still in his arms, tear-streaked face and all.

“there she is,” he mused. “there’s my pretty girl.”

the frown on your face deepened at that, purely because your face was surely red and covered in tears, and he decided to compliment it anyways.

“everything? you remember it all?” you sniffed.

“everything.” he confirmed. “like how this is where you go when you’re stressed,” he dipped his head down and kissed your cheek.

“and your favorite color’s light blue,” he kissed your other cheek. “and you prefer mystery books to romance,” your forehead. “and i even remember the time i tied your shoe for you and got kicked in the face in exchange.” your nose.

you were eye-to-eye now, drowning in oceanic blue surrounding his blown-up pupils.

a small giggle passed your lips at the last anecdote, pressing a nostalgic smile onto your lips. “i missed you,” you admitted.

“i missed you too,” he said. “can i have a kiss now?”

you smiled and pulled his face to yours, capturing his familiar and dearly missed lips with your own. after all the fussing and fighting you’d done, he could have as many kisses as he wanted.

#୨୧ love letters #jason grace x reader #jason grace x fem!reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace oneshot #jason grace x you #jason grace imagine #jason grace #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo x you #hoo x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #x reader

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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 9 months ago

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Sleepover with Drunk Nanami

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you then, wear something I like.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So what’s your name..”

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

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

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

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

God, he was an idiot

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

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

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

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

“Do you wear glasses?”, you asked.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We all went to high school together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

He nodded, “Ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

“I--”

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

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

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

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

“Taste okay?” you checked in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Need you.” you pleaded against him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that.”

Author’s notes:

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

it’s up on Ao3 too.

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shuenkio · 4 months ago

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Cat hit puberty | Yj.w

Paring: Jungwon x male!reader | Genre: 18+ Smut! Don't like Don't press.

Synopsis: You were having a good time until the clock went off.

Cw: Mentioned of cum, masturbate, sex, laterally 18+ MDNI.

Non proof read | Wc: 800+

Eng is not my first language!

A/N: Was starstruck by Jungwon ever since KCON so I finally drop this bomb at night •_•

"M/n!" Jungwon voice out, calling out for you once he's enter your room.

It's unusual at the sight you are staring at since Jungwon never wore sleeveless shirts before, it's rare to be said. Why did he look so buff and— since when his bicep got a lot bigger?

"What do you want hyung? Woah" without any warning, Jungwon's body collapse on your lap while his face buries tight on your chest. There's no reason for him to act like this and you wonder why.

"What's wrong Won hyung?" You worries asking him, if there's anything you could help him however nothing left his mouth instead, You feel his hip, humping against the blanket nonchalantly.

Now that's very questionable, not only he's humping, he then shifting slightly closer to you as he turn his face up, with the strong grips of his before locking both of your wrist against the headboard of your bed.

Unable to utter any word, Jungwon's face was obvious enough to explain the situation. His expression was mad in a messy blush like a red ink, his eye's lidded that uesd to be an cat-like-eyes replacing by the half low Lidded as if he was in pain of something.

"W-at just say it hyung say it i don't know what are you doing!!" Panick got the best of you, the unholy thoughts float across through your mind like a Sharp knife. Nevertheless despite how strong he is, You can't even move anything on your body. Your limp was between his two legs, your wrist are pinned up. All you had right now was your face that soon would be abused by him with—

"I feel werid M/n I've never feel such hotness in my body before, m- my penis is too hard" Jungwon cries out, state out what's he going through right now but he can't help, to let his heat get a hold of his mind and body as he want to have it with you.

"You're.... Don't tell me you've never masterbate before?"

"No— but I'm going to finish.. with you ah—ngh"

Soon later, your legs was lift up and thrown over on his shoulder. As you hear the sound of unbuckle belt of his, tuck away on the floor.

Couldn't resist any longer, with one hand of his are still pinning you up, the other one unzips his own pant rolling down to spring free the semi hard underneath. It was dripping with the clear liquid on his tip, his dick was seen free in front of your eyes after a few years. It not big yet it's longer than what you're expected. Uh oh it's twitching and looking at you in a demanding gaze.

In a swift motion, your mind was blocked by the fog suddenly. Seeing you was in awe, Jungwon spare no sec as he ripped out your short like tearing a paper. Entrance Infront of your juicy pink hole, before you could react, he was pushing in, to the deepest part of your ass leaving your jaw almost crack to the pressure he was giving.

Jungwon was gritted his teeth to the pleasure he was going for, so tight and squishy. Your walls was squeezing him as if you never wanted to let go even though this session was out of blue.

"You're so tight m/n I'm too sensitive" Jungwon whimpers, he is closing his eyes absorb the wave of jolt that your hole around his shaft, looking down to his action he was thrusting in, like an expert.

Not even a words you can make it out from your thoat, the eyes of you rolling back to your brain leaving the white to be presence. The slapping skin noise really driving you insane to the point you're cumming without feeling it coming.

"Feel so good I'm sorry—ughh"

Your hyung was breathless, seeking for the climax, try all his might, pushing his hip with one last final thrust, as you feel his glan shaking terribly inside of you, pulsing on your belly, soon shooting out a huge load semen with the first times of his.

"FUCK Jungwon hyung"

The clock went off, screaming to wake the person who was in a deep sleep the whole time to wake up.

You were starlet to the annoying sounds, making you catching for air, sweating from the fever dream or should you called it a hot dream?

It was something you couldn't imagine that one day you'd but it's actually happened in your dream instead. Ugh don't tell your undie got soaked wet again?

"Why why why it was so good ugh you mf clock, the good part always got ruined now my cum stained on the bed sheet"

Shouting out loud, frustrated at yourself. Who wouldn't when the part went hard and boom, you woke up?

Little did you know, Your was was so loud and clear that Jungwon could heard everything.

"ㅋㅋ I'll let you feel it later m/n~"

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ Please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD TO ALL THE OWNER.

Ps. don't come at me, I just wrote this unexpectedly 😔 without plan so— other members would be next.

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racinggirl · 7 months ago

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you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

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thebellearchives · 2 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑

~ inumaki toge ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : after an afternoon of gaming, you and inumaki share your first kiss

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, he uses his cursed speech on you

‧₊˚ a / n : toge can say some words as long as they’re not harmful, onigiri ingredients are in japanese

“FINALLY!” your voice resonated victoriously from Toge’s room, he loudly groaned and let himself fall backwards onto the bed.

About four hours had passed since you came over to Toge’s dorm to play videogames. And about two of them had been spent in trying to beat him in Smash Bros. Toge had won 2 rounds against 1 most of the time, but you had finally managed to turn the tides against him. Sure, it was just one victory against his multiple ones but it tasted glorious!

“YES! IT WAS ABOUT TIME IT WAS NOT FAIR!!” you punched the air in joy, standing on your knees.

“OKAKA”

“DESERVED! EVERYONE CHEER FOR Y/N”

“OKAKAAAA”

“Y/N SUPREMACY”

“Tch” Toge clicked his tongue and pulled you down onto the bed while you laughed, he giggled and placed his index in front of his lips “late”

“Oh” your eyes widened with the realization of the time, turning around towards him “you’re right, I should go back to my dorm.”

He groaned and puckered his lips in annoyance. You smiled. He was so cute. You were both on your sides, only centimeters apart, looking at each other. Next thing you knew you were lost in his beautiful lavender eyes, and your heartbeat quickened, thinking about how much you ached to caress his cheek and trace his cursed marks with your index. It was moments like this when you thought about your friendship with him, and how much effort you had put into carefully weaving it without involving the growing feelings in your chest.

“You want me to stay?” your question blurted out in a low voice.

He nodded, his hand catching a strand of your hair and placing it behind your ear. Your cheeks reddened to the feeling of his fingertips grazing your face. A sweet sensation of nervousness sat in your stomach, butterflies suddenly arose to try and turn your insides upside down. He immediately noticed the blush and apparently that made him smile, he seemed intrigued for a moment.

“Come closer.”

Your body moved on its own without permission from your brain. You brought your bodies closer to each other, pulling towards him by grabbing his shirt, your faces now extremely close. Inhaling sharply, your eyes widened and stared at him in surprise, his intrigued expression never leaving his face. He giggled at your reaction. He was teasing you and it was almost unfair, anyone could tell how much he was enjoying it. Shakily, your hand made its way towards his marks, index slowly tracing over the pattern on his smooth skin. As his long white lashes lowered down towards your hand, his lips partly opened at the touch. God, he’s so beautiful. He closed his eyes, his forehead rested on yours. Sighing, he nuzzled against your cheek, and his arms slithered around your waist. With a nervous gulp, you closed your eyes too, feeling his breath over your shaky lips. When you caressed his face, he licked his lower lip. And finally, his lips found their rightful place on top of yours. He kissed softly, causing a warm feeling of longing hugging your body. When you kissed back his arms around you tightened, trying to somehow bring you even closer, his tongue slid through your lower lip. Gasping, you slowly opened your mouth to grant him access, and his hot tongue filled your mouth, making the butterflies flutter with no control. One hand on his shirt turning into a pleading fist, the other one threading his white hair in between your fingers. Tender yearning was the only thing in between our mouths, until he pulled away for a sharp breath. You also breathed in the air you had forgotten you needed at all.

“Toge…” you tried to say something, anything, but the kiss had left your mind wiped clean.

“Hmm” he hummed in response. You didn’t say anything, just wrapped your arms around his neck “kiss.”

Following his orders, you kissed him shortly.

“Kiss” his now slightly husky voice pushed you to peck his lips yet again “more.”

This time, that last word obliged you to properly kiss him, just like the first time. Lips molding against his like they were meant to be together, melting. The sounds filling the room felt like music to your ears, with both of you tangled in between each other like you had been looking forward to it for a while. And it probably was just like that. One of his hands decided to guide you holding your jaw with his fingertips. You stopped the kiss to breathe again, you could’ve sworn the room was revolving around both of you like you had just become the center of the universe. He was the center of your universe. His face moved away from yours and you finally opened your eyes, his thumb caressing your chin.

“Beautiful.” his eyes seemed to shimmer in a new way you hadn’t seen before.

You knew your cheeks were already flushed, but it still felt like that single word prompted the rest of the blood in your body to concentrate on your cheeks solely. A bashful smile appeared on your face. Ironically, it seemed like you couldn’t find the words to tell him how beautiful he was to you. You thought another kiss could convey the words instead, so you just leaned over to connect your mouths once again.

#; fluffy belle #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk inumaki #jjk toge #inumaki x y/n #inumaki toge #inumaki x reader #inumaki fluff #inumaki toge x reader #toge #toge x reader #toge x you #jjk imagines #jjk fic #gn!reader

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thegamingcatmom · 2 months ago

Text

Finished Donna´s section earlier (again) and it got me thinking (again).

In other words: Have this lil Donna rant under the cut because our spooky baby deserves some love and attention too.

(Yknow, sometimes I forget that Angie isn´t a mere extension of Donna. She is Donna.)

Whereas the other Lords rely on their physical powers to cause damage and destruction, Donna just fucks with your mind.

...I say "just" because I feel like some people truly don´t realize that your mind can become your greatest enemy. Anything physical pales in comparison. And yet-

It seems to me that she´s considered the least threatening of the Lords BECAUSE she doesn´t rely on anything physical. The fact her domain strips you of all your weapons (which is very likely another mind trick) just adds to the whole feeling of "oh? no fighting today? it´s gonna be that easy?"

...

She drugs you before you even enter her house and uses the memories of your loved ones to taunt you. Remember what she did to her gardener? Instructing him to plant the Mold-infected flowers so she would be able to lure him to her estate with promises of seeing his dead wife again?

Now, I don´t believe Donna´s intentions were actually evil at any moment in time, but that´s exactly the point: She´s mental. Literally. She´s so desperate for people to stay with her that she drugs them into obedience which will ultimately lead to their downfall. It´s the only way to make them stay with her permanently.

That´s a whole different level of fucked up.

Then you enter her house and all that greets you is deafening silence. That alone fucks with you because you expect...something to happen at any moment. Every corner becomes a nightmare to round, every hallway seems to stretch on for eternity. But still-

...Nothing happens.

And yet-

You can´t shake the feeling of hollow eyes watching your every move.

...

BECAUSE IT IS. 😭

You have long since become a puppet, and Donna´s pulling the strings.

She then proceeds to use nightmarish versions of your loved ones to drive you mad, to the point you can´t distinguish between illusion and reality. Sometimes, those illusions become so powerful that they threaten to swallow you whole - anything to ensure you won´t escape her grasp...

Like the Duke said:

None of her playmates have ever left her house.

She even admits to it before the boss fight:

"Don´t leave...I can´t let you..."

My deranged ass: "I won´t babe I luv u babe whatever u want babe."

But yknow what really melts my brain?

Out of all the antagonists Resi Village features, Donna is probably the most relatable because she embodies all those things you actually need to be wary of in life:

psychological manipulation

deception

drugging

isolation

etc.

If you still believe Donna Beneviento isn´t one to be feared, then sorry to tell you this, but-

THANKS FOR READING! 🫶

(For the record: Yall are most welcome to have tea parties with Donna. Totally fine. To each their own. But don´t say I didn´t warn ya. I´ll bring the biscuits.)

#donna beneviento #angie beneviento #spookie baby #resident evil village #re village #resident evil 8 #re 8

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 5 months ago

Note

I am so happy you're back and seem to be doing even a little bit better! We missed you!

I wanted to send a little message, so you can ignore it if it sours your mood or you don't feel like dealing with it, feel no pressure at all! It's just this blog has been a safe space and the community has been so welcoming that I figured I could vent really quick

You know when sometimes the brain just has a really shitty day, like when you draw something and it screams at you that it's trash even though there's nothing wrong with it? I've been having a rough time with it deciding to scream that comfort characters would cheat, probably as an 'You are so unlovable not even fictional characters would be loyal' bullshit. Now, logically, I know this makes -67 sense. But, I was wondering if you could just reassure that like, Sanji, Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Crocodile, Blablablablabla long list of One Piece characters you write for, would not cheat? I'm sorry, this sounds lame to even write out but I'm trying to get my brain to stop thinking that asking for help is 'pathetic' because it is not and it only applies that logic to me, never to anyone else.

I dunno man. Brains and bring human ate both though af.

I missed all of you as well. Really and sincerely. I have a tendency to go radio silent when I'm going through a difficult time and I hate it immensely, but hearing that I was missed to makes me all

And yes, oh gods, I know. My brain is frequently my worst enemy. Especially when I'm not writing. My anxiety starts working overtime and my creative drive becomes dedicated to coming up with problems that could potentially happen for me to worry about even more and it's an absolute bitch; or even when I am actively creating and a little voice insists that everything I make is stupid garbage.

This is still very much and always will be a safe space. It definitely is awful to feel that unworthy of love. Full disclosure, I've mentioned in passing before that I've been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder depressive type. My main issue is auditory hallucinations that like to insist that everyone I love and care about only tolerate me out of pity and secretly would rather I not be around, which leads to me isolating myself from people. Huge part of the reason I go silent when life decides to be a bitch. I know it's just as bad feeling that way about comfort characters, if not even worse, when we're supposed to have them to help us get through that kind of bullshit.

So let me provide a little drabble for the one comfort character I’m certain wouldn’t ever allow us to continue being so silly about our worthiness of love and affection, because we’re all worthy of such a basic human need. I may do more later, but one in particular jumped at the opportunity to provide this comfort, and I fear he may counter me with his dreaded puppy-dog-eyes should I even dare attempt to wait.

Good Enough

OPLA!Sanji x AFAB!Reader

Lil drabble thingy

SFW, Hurt/Comfort

Possible TRIGGER WARNINGS for depression, insecurity, self-worth

♫♬ Moonshine ♬♫ — The Fratellis (yes I’m STILL on my Fratellis BS leave me be)

"Never knowing is the most evil feeling, when every answer here is none too appealing"

Sanji had always been a flirt. You knew that from the moment you started working on the wait staff at Baratie. Your trust issues had made it a little difficult for you to open up around the young sous chef (and occasional waiter on the frequent occasion that Zeff kicked him out of the kitchen for insubordination), but it was his outgoing nature and perseverance that had ultimately won you over. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only girl in the world when you were together, doting upon you, all but worshipping the ground you walked on.

But when he was sent out to work the dining area, it always made you nervous. His innate charm, his handsome features—he was nearly always a hit with female customers. No matter how much you told yourself that he was only doing his job, there was always a nagging feeling that maybe there was more to it than that. Watching him interact with a table of pretty young women, who by their clothing and demeanor were obviously far more affluent and sophisticated than you, left you distracted in your own work.

Seeing how they giggled at everything he said, how they fluttered their eyelashes when he brought them their drinks.

How the pretty blonde at the table leaned so close to him while he pointed to something on the menu, close enough to brush her hand across his.

You managed to spill a tray of drinks all over yourself while you were watching, leading to a scolding from the front of house manager. You saw the table of girls from the corner of your eye, giggling at your clumsiness before you were sent off to clean yourself up and change your uniform.

No matter how much you told yourself you were being silly, there was nothing you could do to shake it. The doubts, the thoughts of how easily he could find someone better than you. You had your jaw clenched the entire time you were changing your shirt in the staff restroom, tossing the soiled one aside as you leaned against the sink in front of the mirror and forced yourself to take slow, level breaths.

You were still on the clock. You couldn’t break down. You had to get changed, had to get back to work, had to pretend everything was fine, if he found out you were being so stupid about this then he would definitely drop you like a bad habit, you had to compose yourself or—

Knock knock.

Your eyes darted to the bathroom door, your breath catching in your throat at the sound of the light knock.

“J—just a minute,” you forced out, flinching at the sound of your own voice breaking a little.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, stop it stop it stop it—

A brief silence followed your answer, a silence that seemed to stretch on for miles despite lasting only a few seconds. The familiar, gentle voice that answered after a moment made your hands clench around the porcelain of the sink.

“You alright, love?” You drew in a sharp breath, swallowing, clenching your eyes shut. Of course it was Sanji. You had almost hoped that the manager had come scold you for taking too long. That would have been easier to deal with right now. Your eyes darted to the locked doorknob as it rattled a little. “I heard—”

“I’m fine,” you said immediately, the strained quality of your own words as they met your ears making your hands tighten a little more on the edge of the sink. “I—I just tripped and spilled a few drinks, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You gritted your teeth, laying your head back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course he wouldn’t let it go that easily. The doorknob rattled a little again, and you glanced at it as if it were a viper poised to strike out at you at any second.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, don’t—

“You sound—”

You reached out and turned the lock on the doorknob, and turned away from the door, crossing your arms over your half-buttoned shirt and stared down at your feet. After a long moment, you heard the door open behind you.

Evidently you didn’t look any less distressed than you felt. His quiet sigh met your ear as the door shut lightly and the lock turned. “Oh, love, it’s fine,” he said gently, his footfalls echoing quietly in the small bathroom, closing the short distance across the tile floor between the two of you. Your whole body tensed as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his forehead over the crown of your hair with a quiet chuckle. “It’s only a few drinks, it could happen to anyone.”

You shook your head, your shoulders shaking a little. Stupid, it was so stupid, but the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “Oh, yeah, anyone.” You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t. He had a way of pulling all your insecurities to the surface that no one else did. You pulled your crossed arms tighter, staring down at the white floor tiles for a moment before shutting your eyes tightly, your voice shaking a little. “Especially a dumb screw-up like me—”

“Don’t do that.” His tone came out a little sharper with this, and your breath hitched audibly in your throat this time, your shoulders hunching as you clenched your eyes shut tighter, swallowing back the lump in your throat. As if to counter your stiff posture, he pulled his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb rubbing lightly against your waist in a comforting manner. “Don’t, sweetheart. Please.”

The warmth of his embrace already had you relaxing a little. Your shoulders slumped, your body leaning back against him, but your eyes were still burning when you opened them to stare down at the toes of your shoes.

“Was it the manager?” he asked gently, shifting behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “If he was being an ass I’ll gladly kick his ass off the docks.” Your breath left your lungs in a slow, trembling sigh as you shook your head no, your gaze drifting down to his hand at your hip, still rubbing lightly against you, your lips curling into a fleeting smile at his offer. You knew you were being stupid, but… “Then what’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice a soft, comforting murmur in your ear.

“I…” You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes as he tilted his head so his cheek lay against your shoulder. “Y—you—“

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat, drawing in a deep breath, trying and failing to steady the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind, thoughts of how maybe this was all a lie, of how you weren’t anything more than a silly little fling to him, how you weren’t good enough, how easily you could be replaced.

You bit your lip, glancing down as his hand found yours, watching his fingers lace between your own…and the breath left you in a slow, resigned sigh.

“It’s stupid,” you said quietly.

“If it’s got you this upset, then it’s anything but stupid,” he countered, and you had to purse your lips tightly to keep them from curving into a small smile as you felt his press briefly against your cheek in a soft kiss. “And if it’s something I’ve done—”

“N—no, you haven’t—” But how quickly you shook your head, how your shoulders tensed, betrayed your worries. “I…I just…” You slowly relaxed once more as he squeezed you against him, his cheek nuzzling against your shoulder, his soft blonde hair tickling against your neck. Still unable to turn your head to meet his eyes, you bit the bullet and forced yourself to voice your worries. “You have beautiful women making goo-goo eyes at you all day,” you said, keeping your voice low in an attempt to keep it steady. “I—I don’t—I’m not—” You bit your lip, your heart racing as you clenched your eyes shut, cursing yourself internally as you felt the tickle of a tear leaving your eye to trail down one of your cheeks. “Y-you could have any girl you wanted. L—like that blonde that was hanging all over you while you were showing her the menu, or—or—”

“Oh, sweetheart…” You weren’t quite able to mask the small sob that hitched in your chest as Sanji loosened his embrace—only to gently place a hand on your hip, guiding you to turn around and face him, to pull you against his chest as you tried and failed to fight back tears. He gently shushed your quiet sobs and stammered apologies as he wrapped his arms around you fully, combing his fingers through your hair as he laid his head over yours. Your eyes remained clenched shut as you fought to control your breathing , as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Sanji lowered his head and nuzzled into your hair, holding you flush against him.

“I already have the girl I want. The perfect girl.” He pressed another tender kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin, “I have her right here in my arms. And I hope,” he said, his tone turning a little playful as he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, “that I’ll still have her tonight after dinner shift is over.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling as he tilted his head to meet your gaze, puling a small smile to your lips as your cheeks grew a little warmer. “So we can cuddle up together on the balcony…watch the stars…laugh at all the drunk idiots stumbling back to their boats…”

You could practically hear him smiling as a few soft giggles escaped you, as you finally leaned fully against him and returned his embrace, your arms wrapping around his torso as you buried your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, relaxing against him. “I…I’m just…”

“I know, love.” The way he called you ‘love’ all but melted your heart now that you were calmed down, pulling a faint smile to your lips. “I know. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And if it’s any consolation, I was in the middle of telling that self-righteous blonde bimbo how my sweet, adorable, beautiful girlfriend would wring her neck if she kept putting her hands on me—“ He chuckled as you whined in protest of his praise, tugging you closer and grinning, meeting your eyes without hesitation.

He lifted his hand to your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek, the warmth of his gaze holding yours.

“I—“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You both jolted in alarm, your heads turning in unison toward the sound of the pounding on the bathroom door. Before you could so much as glance at each other, a gruff voice spoke up from behind the door.

“We’re in the weeds, Eggplant!” Zeff called . “Get your scrawny ass to the kitchen! And bring your damned girlfriend, we need all the help we can get.”

A long moment of silence stretched between the two of you as you both stared at the closed bathroom door, before your gazes drifted slowly toward each other.

Before you were both giggling under your breath, as you buried your forehead against his chest, a broad smile spreading across your lips as you clung to him.

“I suppose we’ve been summoned,” said Sanji, pulling back from you only enough to gaze down at you, still smiling. “Shall we, then?”

#one piece #opla #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #oneshot #drabble #fluff #sfw #hurt/comfort #sanji opla #asks #sanji #black leg sanji

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doki-doki-imagines · 2 years ago

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Just read the idea of shower sex with Michael Kaiser and this idea popped up.

Simple smut with feelings, reader has a vagina. I'm no good with smut so have pity of me and my poor writing skills

You didn’t want to give in, but damn Michael knows his way with words. A “darling” his right hand tracing a heart on your hips, a sugar-coated “I promise I won’t do anything, I’m too tired liebling” a tired sigh; all fake, traps tactically set up make you fall for them.

When you finally look up, you just see blue eyes so deep you could dive into them and a tired smile that transpires love, so it wasn’t all your fault if you fell for them; if Michael isn’t so lovestruck for you for sure you wouldn’t have fallen for any of his traps.

But you did, that’s why you find yourself with your back pushed on the cold tiles of Michael’s shower, your hands tugging desperately his hair, Michael’s body impossibly close to yours, his hands gripping hard your face not leaving the both of you any space to breathe and his tongue dancing with yours, wet noises dulled by the rushing hot water.

Michael’s hands began exploring, now tweaking and pulling your nipples, while you can only gasp at the sudden roughness “Too tired my ass” you think annoyed, “hypocrite” it’s another word it comes to your mind but this time for yourself, because no way you’re going to stop his ministration.

A harsh bite takes you to planet Earth again, you didn’t notice how Michael’s lips migrated southward, littering kisses down your jawline towards your neck, ‘till he bit you, pulling at your skin the minimum to know he’s gonna leave a nasty mark to hide the next morning; no way he is gonna regret it when his action pulled out such delicious sigh escape your lips.

Even if the tiles of his shower are so cold, you feel warm all over, even more with his mouth latching onto one of your nipples and fingers caressing your outer lips, with a delicacy you can’t find in the thumb that is now circling your clit or in his greedy mouth. Finally Michael fingers you, his ring and forefinger working wonders, curling and hitting just that right spot that makes you see stars.

“M-Michael” You manage to gasp out “I-I’m—” but a moan you can’t keep interrupt your sentence. Meanwhile, Michael’s eyes are sparkling, the sparkle you usually see when he knows he won and can’t wait to tease his prey endlessly “What? Can’t hear you well” He innocently replied, peering towards you with a Cheshire grin.

Michael deserved a kick, you didn’t even want to find yourself in this situation, it’s all his fault and he must finish what he started. “I need more” You struggled to say, his fingers never losing their rhythm “How exactly?” Michael crooned, the depth of his voice telling you he wasn’t as unaffected as he wants to look like

“Michael, I’m close—” so he stops and lifts himself up, he loves the face you make when he doesn’t let you finish; the spite and the need that swim in your eyes only spur him on.

He gives his member a few pumps, then he picks you up, your legs instinctually wrapping around his narrow waist.

You welp, no way this will end up well, you can play the scene in your head perfectly, he slips, you knock your head against the floor, you cry and whimper, fuck this is going to end so badly. Thank God there is Michael ready to wake up from the nightmare, the pinch on your ass more as a warning than a pleasurable one.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll finally stop thinking with that shit brain of yours”

“As always you are all talk and no action, Michael” Your legs tightened around Michael’s waist, your fingers gripping, almost scratching his biceps, one hand tracing the blue roses you love so much while he slowly sheats himself into you.

You know you hit a weak spot earlier when Michael doesn’t even stop to ask if you are comfortable, his pace is relentless from the start, his hips cushioned by yours make a sinful sound, the wetness making your skin shine and your watery eyes are a delicious sight for the blonde eyes, he just wants to eat you up.

And that’s what he does, his mouth locked with yours, tongue finding yours in a ravenous dance, eating moan after moan, his hands gripping so hard on your legs that you are sure they are leaving indents, but you can’t complain much when you are doing the same on his muscular back, leaving your mark too on him.

Your hips start to thrust downward to meet his, you claw further with each thrust, the pleasure too intense to handle anymore.

“Michael—more please” He quickly obliged, not that far from the apex too.

“You acted all bitchy earlier-“ Michael lets out a groan “but you wanted to do this as much as me, mh?” He grips your ass now, painfully yet blissfully, just perfect.

“Maybe we are just made for each other”

It’s that tinge of sweetness in this animalistic act that makes you crumble, walls clenching impossibly tight on his cock and he follows you after a few thrusts.

Your chests heaved, both dirtier than when you started the shower, the warm water, now way too warm, washing away your sweat. Michael put you down, both your breaths heavy, your lips still centimeters from each other, both looking at each other like pulling off would have killed you both.

You finally lift your head, landing a kind and sweet kiss on the blue rose on his neck, your fave one, Michael leaves one on the crown of your head, a smile full of love on your lips.

Maybe you are really made for each other.

#bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #michael kaiser x reader

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onadarklingplain · 4 months ago

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F A K E M A T I N G omg

happy to see fake mating is a hit because it's my favourite one! thank you liza and @tiredeg and anon!

so like any person with a heart and a brain, i LOVE fake dating fics, but it's so hard to contrive an F1 premise where it's even slightly believable. but then i thought — what if it was an omegaverse marriage law situation, where the evil FIA declare that all the omegas on the grid have to be mated to race. but obviously our guy alex albon (alpha) isn't going to let his good friend george (omega) get pawned off to just anyone

i feel like this must be a thing, but i've never read a fake mating fic before! if it is a thing, please send me the fics!!

okay but here's a snippet when george is in heat and alex is trapped in the hotel room with him because if he leaves, their cover is blown

“George?” Alex calls out through the door after a particularly long silence follows a particularly agonised groan. His heart is pounding in his chest so hard that he can hardly feel his fingertips anymore, and it’s taking all the self-control he has, every ounce of it carefully wrought and hard-won, to stay sitting on the cold bathroom tile. He digs his fingers into his kneecaps and when the bone shifts under his hands, he tries to lean into the hint of pain.

Even through the closed door, George smells insane. Alex has been around omegas in heat before obviously, but it’s never been like this. His mouth is watering from it, his dick already hard and half-knotted from nothing at all. Alex doesn’t know if — if it’s because George isn’t getting what he needs. Or if Alex is making it worse, being so close. If George can smell him too, if his body thinks — if his body wants —

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Alex says cautiously, just so that someone will have said it before the night is over.

#galex #wip ask game #kay asks #f1 rpf #fake mating

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celtigxr · 2 months ago

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The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. xi: Peace of Mind

Chapter Summary: As the Greens plot their ambitions, the very Prince they plan on putting the crown on can barely contain the tent in his breeches.

Word Count: 4033

Sneak Peak: But before he could dive his fingers in between her heaving breasts, a third voice broke through the static of his empty brain. “Shyla!” “I wasn’t touching her!” Aegon sprang away from the brunette, bum sliding to the far right of the balcony until his back hit the wall.

Warnings: Aegon chapter. Dunno if that's a good thing or not at this point.

T H E G R E E N S

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“The Starks have departed from White Harbour with the Manderlys,” Otto leans back in his chair, right leg extending under his desk as he regards his daughter sitting in the armchair across from him. “They should be arriving in a sennight. The Baratheons will arrive before them, of course. Borros is already not pleased that we cannot house him and his four daughters in the Keep.”

“Hm,” Alicent hummed, looking down at the steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. “Between the Celtigars, my cousin’s family, and Rhaenyra’s lot, we will be at full capacity at the Holdfast. Is there no room elsewhere? Perhaps near the north towers?”

“Mayhaps, but we will need to work night and day to prepare whatever rooms we find to be acceptable for them.”

“It will be better than a series of tents, I’d wager,” Alicent tried to reason. “From what I’ve heard, his daughters are spoiled and wouldn’t want anything less than stone walls and carpeted floors.”

Otto hummed in agreement, “Luckily the Starks are of stronger mettle. It is only Cregan and his sister that accompanies them.”

“What of his younger brother… Rickard, was it?”

“Fated for the Wall, I’m afraid. He will remain in Winterfell.”

With a nod, Alicent allowed silence to fall between them.

Ever since her husband regained his health, Alicent was relieved of her duties from the Small Council; she was no longer needed to be Viserys’s regent, much to her chagrin. Alicent hated not being present during the meetings; it was her only semblance of power and influence as Queen, and now that was taken away from her. With having no way of knowing what was going on within the Realm, she couldn’t offer her sage advice or a woman’s perspective. The men of the Council lacked the gentler approach. Now she had no choice but to rely on second hand accounts from her father and Lord Larys Strong.

“And is there any news of Lord Corlys? The last I heard, his body was still lost in the Step Stones.” The Lord of Driftmark had been absent from his seat for nearly ten years following both deaths of his only children. He had spent that time keeping control over the won lands, ensuring the Triarchy did not gain occupation of it. However, in his efforts, he was ambushed and had his throat slashed, though his body had not been recovered, there was no way of knowing if he had survived or not. Until now, that was.

“One of his men found him,” Otto reached for the thin leaf of paper that the raven had delivered. “He is unconscious, but back at Driftmark. The maesters do not know if he will survive.”

The Queen hummed sadly, fingers tapping the mug in her hands before taking a tentative sip. There will be contention regarding the succession for Driftmark. By name, she knew Lucerys would be the one to inherit, but.. Well, the truth of it laid as obvious as his dark hair and eyes.

“Have we heard from Rhaenyra yet?” Alicent finally asked the only question she had been thinking about all day.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Alicent tried to contain the eagerness behind her eyes. Otto continued, “Maester Gerardys wrote to us, explaining that their reluctance of leaving Dragonstone was due to the babe Visenya’s health. She’s a sickly child, from what I’ve learned, and it is believed she will not survive to see her first name day.”

Alicent visibly paled, her shoulders sunk as her back rested against the seat. An unsettling pit in her stomach formed that not even a generous gulp of tea could remedy.

“Poor Rhaenyra. To possibly lose a babe – her only daughter,” She shook her head, as if ridding herself of the idea of putting herself in those shoes. If she had lost Helaena, Alicent did not believe she’d survive her grief.

“It would be quite a tragedy…” Otto nods, leaning forward as a sigh filters through his nostrils. “But we cannot question the Stranger… He does not discriminate, and is never fair.”

Alicent shut her eyes, willing her ears to pretend she did not hear her father. Perhaps it is because she’s a woman, perhaps it is because she’s a mother, or perhaps it is because she still loved Rhaenyra, but either way she could not bear to hear such callous sentiments through empty philosophical religious sentiments. Especially from her father, who had a direct involvement in the reason why there was a crater between her and her childhood friend.

Clearing her throat, she changed the subject, “What about Daeron? When is he due to return?”

“Soon,” Otto replied simply, his eyes casted down at his papers. “Gwayne and my nephew’s family are on the road, and Daeron will follow him on dragonback shortly after. I sent a raven warning him to ensure he takes Tessarion straight to the Pit as soon as he arrives.”

Alicent’s brow knitted in confusion, “What’s the urgency?”

“The Cannibal has been spotted circling the Kingswood,” The Hand’s brow also furrowed, “Gods know why. That old beast hasn’t come this far inland since Aegon the first.”

Alicent ran her teeth over her bottom lip, “You think he will hunt for dragons in King’s Landing?”

“They don’t call him The Cannibal for nothing, Alicent. Perhaps there hasn’t been enough hatchlings at the Dragonmont to placate his diet.”

“And what about Vhagar? She is vulnerable.”

“If Cannibal wanted to attack her, he would have done so ages ago. She’s bigger than him, possibly older– who knows. That beast has been here longer than the Iron Throne. Besides,” Otto splays his hands on his desk before pushing himself out of his chair. “Aemond has her flying around King’s Landing, ensuring he does not approach. With any luck the beast will give up and go back to his cave in Dragonmont.”

“Unless he decides to attack farmers and travellers,” Alicent watches her father move to a table where a jug of wine sat.

“He doesn’t attack humans – unless provoked. And no one is foolish enough to try to claim him. He’s wild, untamable, and loathes Targaryens.”

“That does not ease my mind, father.”

“We have it handled,” Otto brought his goblet to his lips, taking a modest sip. “Worry your mind with something more important, such as the marital fate of your children. The King wishes to marry Clement Celtigar with Helaena.”

Alicent stood up straight in her seat, eyes wide, “But she is to marry Aegon.”

Otto nods, “We should have done that long ago. We must deter him from that idea, and consider another match. He wants to unite the Celtigars with the Targaryens, then there are plenty to choose from.”

The queen swallowed, knowing who he was implying, “There are still Daemon’s girls… Surely one of them would be a better fit to be the future Lady of Claw Isle.”

“As I suggested, but his Grace does not wish to speak on behalf of his brother. And you know Daemon… he will do the complete opposite to what is told of him.”

“There is Daeron–”

Otto lifted his hand up to stop her, “Alicent. Please… You cannot skirt around this any longer. Aemond is your second eldest son – he must marry.”

“He does not have to marry a Celtigar,” Alicent bent forward as she placed her now tepid tea on his desk. “It is a wiser match to pair him with one of the Baratheon girls. Daeron is of similar age to Bartimos’ younger daughter, Shyla. You cannot deny that it would be perfect.”

Otto stared at his daughter with dwindling patience, his hand gripped the back of his chair as he looked down at her as a father would to a stubborn daughter. He supposed he would have to tell her of his plans for Daeron sooner or later, and now seemed the best possible timing. Particularly since he needed her to be compliant if he was going to succeed in the strategic marriage alliances he wished to orchestrate.

“I’ve had Daeron keep a correspondence with Floris Baratheon for the past few moons. They have become quite familiar and fond of each other – Lord Borros is aware, and he approves of the match.”

Alicent launched herself from her seat, rounding the desk towards her father, “You did what?” Otto opened his mouth, but the question was rhetorical, and she was not going to let him speak. “You cannot make such decisions without my counsel, father! I am Daeron’s mother! I have the final say on who he is betrothed to!”

“Alicent,” her father stepped towards her, towering over her form and reminding her of how little power she actually has. “Daeron’s name has not left your lips for moons at a time. He is the son of Oldtown, raised by your uncle, brother, and cousins! You should be happy for him! The boy will marry a lady from a great house, who he has found friendship with and may even love!”

With pursed lips, Alicent’s face blanched at every word, slowly shrinking away from him.

Otto heaved a heavy sigh when he absorbed her expression, and then downed the rest of his wine before placing it onto his desk.

“Aemond must marry one of the Celtigar girls, to appease your husband, your King. Despite the bad blood between them, Valeana Celtigar is the smartest choice. She is Bartimos’ eldest blood daughter, and her mother was a Lannister. She has the blood of two of the richest families in the Seven Kingdoms, the Crown’s treasury would be overflowing with her dowry alone.”

“Is that what this is? You will force two people who hate each other into a marriage just for gold?”

Otto waved dismissively, “Aemond does not hate Valeana. He only fears her. That will change once her belly swells with his first child.”

Alicent furrowed her brow and shook her head. Her fingers carded through her auburn tresses in frustration. Then turning around to collect herself, her slender digits moved from her hair, down to her throat.

“She will not forgive him,” She finally spoke. “Did you know that they had to amputate her foot, and part of her leg? Just under the knee.”

There was a heavy pause before Otto replied in a softer voice, “No… I did not.”

Alicent turned to him again, brows upturned worryingly, eyes glossy with tears of frustration and guilt, “What happens if Aemond cannot gain her trust? What if Bartimos refuses?”

Sighing through his mustache, the Hand of the King leaned against his desk, “He may marry the younger one… But if Bartimos even refuses that proposal, then… Then, The King will take it upon himself to marry Helaena to Clement Celtigar, and everything we’ve worked hard for will be in vain. Aegon will have less claim to the Throne than Rhaenyra and Daemon’s legitimate Targaryen children. He must marry his sister if the Realm is ever going to see him as Viserys’ true heir.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“There you are!”

Aegon jostled, jumping in his seat at the unwelcome surprise. The bottle he was nursing spilled some ale from the rim and onto his thighs.

“Bastard, I’ll have you hang– Oh, Shyla Celtigar!” His voice heightened, his lips twitched to hold his faux grin. “What— What a lovely…lovely surprise. How, er, did you find me?”

He was sitting on a balcony in the far east tower, not at the top, but quite near it. The space lacked foot traffic, which he preferred. Hiding from Shyla wasn’t even in the forefront of his mind – in fact he had forgotten about his little stalker for the last two days, since that night had happened. Aegon’s mind had been otherwise preoccupied with other things, other someones. He just needed a reprieve, a quiet, lonely place where no one could find him…

He should’ve known better. It was Shyla afterall.

“I saw you by your lonesome from the Serpentine Steps,” she grinned, all gums, as she helped herself to a seat on the balcony’s edge next to him. Her hands immediately found his unoccupied one, and caged it in her fingers. He tried to slyly pull away, but she had a surprising strong grip. “I was thinking about when we should tell our parents about us. I thought we could wait until everyone arrives, but I am just too excited!” She bounced around on her spot. “The sooner, the better. We could be husband and wife by the end of the moon’s cycle.”

Aegon chuckled nervously, and took a large gulp from his bottle of ale with a shaking wrist.

“Oh, no, no– I don’t think–”

“You know Aegon,” She shuffled her bottom and got closer to him, and batted her eyelashes. “This tower is very empty. We’re alone up here.”

He felt a nervous burp bubble through his teeth, “Oh, but if you were able to see me from the steps then— Oh, oh~”

She had taken his hand, then proceeded to slip his middle and pointer finger through her lips… and started to suckle on them. Heat collected to his groin, and Aegon’s mind turned into a battlefield between team common sense and team needy cock. And like always, his cock was winning by a landslide. Due to the feeling of her tongue circling the tips of his fingers, his mouth popped open to let a whimper escape.

Aegon swallowed, “Shit.”

Shyla slipped his fingers slowly out of her mouth, then had them trail down her lip and chin slowly, proceeding more south.

“Shit, shit, shit,” His resolve was dying, and the memory of why he was even trying to avoid her in the first place started to fade in the haze of a rosy coloured lust fog.

But before he could dive his fingers in between her heaving breasts, a third voice broke through the static of his empty brain.

“Shyla!”

“I wasn’t touching her!” Aegon sprang away from the brunette, bum sliding to the far right of the balcony until his back hit the wall. When his eyes finally registered who was standing at the entrance of the rounded empty room, he heaved a great sigh of relief, and his lips pulled into a giant, grateful, grin. “Lady Valeana! What-wh-what another lovely surprise.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to her sister, “Mother has been looking for you. You need another fitting for that dress.”

Shyla pouted, “But I’m busy! And how did you know I was here?”

“I can see you from the Steps clear as day,” Val glanced at Aegon when she said that. “Ought to be more careful. Someone might think your purity is compromised, and then father will be forced to send you back to the Isle.”

Shyla’s eyes widened and her back went rigid straight, “He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t!”

“He would!” Valeana nodded, eyes mockingly wide. “You’d embarrass him, and the entire house. He will be forced to send you away and make you become a septa.”

Shyla sprung to her feet with a gasp, then moved so far away from Aegon that one would think he was the predator in the room (which would be a fair assumption).

“No! No! We weren’t doing anything! I didn’t– Aegon?”

“No, no, your sister was perfectly chaste,” Aegon was quick to say, pretending to give the girl a secret nod and wink.

“See!”

“I believe you, Shy, but the court may not. Luckily I saw no one around, so you got off lucky. But mayhaps you should find mother before someone does come around and makes up defamatory rumours about you and our family.”

Shyla nodded, arms all jittery as she collected her skirts and turned to Aegon to give him a stiff curtsey, “Thank you for being a gentleman, my prince. If you may excuse me, my mother calls.”

Aegon nodded, “You’re–” he coughed, then crossed his legs. “You’re excused, my lady.”

The two waited as Shyla was out of the tower, stepping briskly down the Serpentine Steps with her back towards him.

Aegon turned to his saviour, “Seven bless you, Valeana Celtigar. If you hadn’t come when you did–”

Val lifted her hand to stop him, “Hm, yes, I know. Bad decisions, weak will, crazy sister.”

She walked over to the balcony, sitting at the far end, ensuring there is ample space between them should someone actually spot the two sitting there in the tower, alone.

Aegon hadn’t seen her since that night, at least not this personally. She was spending a lot of her time with his sister and by herself it seemed. He caught her a few times from atop a parapet, sitting alone in the garden or next to the Heart Tree. He thought many times to come down to converse with her, to see how she was doing, but the idea felt foreign to him. He wouldn’t know what to say, nor was he equipped with dealing with womanly emotions should she get hysterical on him.

In truth, he was scared of something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite recognize.

“I never got a chance to properly thank you,” Valeana finally broke the silence. “For that night. It was very kind and… honestly surprising.”

“Yes, well–” He cleared his throat. His hands gripped his knee as he kept his legs crossed, “It was-it was no problem at all. It used to happen to Helaena quite frequently, and I– Well, It’s just something I picked up over time.”

She smiled gently, genuinely, and it forced Aegon to swallow thickly.

“She told me. It still surprises me.”

“What? I can be kind… I can be…I don’t know, benign?”

She laughed, soft and airy, “I’ve never known you to be either of those, so yes, it is surprising.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he gave a stiff shrug. “I don’t have the shiniest of reputations. I’m no Ae— Hm, sorry.”

Val tilted her head, “You can say his name, I’m not going to fall into a fit over it.”

“I don’t know what provokes you.”

“I’m not that sensitive,” she looked down at her hands. “That was the first fit I’ve had in quite a while.”

Even if she wasn’t looking at him, Aegon gave a nod in lieu of not knowing how to respond to that. He opened his mouth to ask a stupid question, like how the weather was treating her, or if she had seen any interesting birds lately. Anything to change the topic… He was terrible at poignant conversations. But she beat him to it.

“I have done a lot of thinking.”

“A terrible passtime, I find.”

“Possible. Probably,” She looked up at him, “I’m going to forgive him.”

“Who?”

“Aemond.”

Aegon’s legs loosened, and then he leaned forward with a raised eyebrow, “Why in the world would you do that? He’s been a monster to you. He does not deserve your forgiveness.”

She tilted her head at him, “With that logic, then I should never forgive you either. Your brother may have severed our friendship and betrayed my trust, but you took copious amounts of delight in cruelly teasing me and my sisters in our shared youth. And I do mean cruel… I’ve never forgotten a thing you’ve said.”

At that, Aegon turned away, unable to face the shame of the past. His shoulder hit the back of the wall again, and in a swift moment he picked up the forgotten bottle of ale to occupy his hands.

“You shouldn’t forgive me then,” he finally replied. “I was– am a cad,” Aegon brought the bottle to his lips and took a small gulp. He shook his head then, and looked back at her. He nearly regretted it by the way she was assessing him, green marbles full of a warmth that he did not deserve. “What changed your mind?”

Her hands stiffly went to her sides, palms pressed against the stone ledge they sat on, “Helaena made me see things a bit more clearly. I pushed Aemond away the moment I got here, and –” she sighed heavily. “He is reacting defensively. He was right, afterall, I was making it more difficult than it needed to be. Had I been more cordial with him from the start, we might’ve become– Ugh, I’m just tired… I’m tired of being bitter. I just want peace of mind. I need to apologize to him, and allow him to do the same.”

Aegon’s shoulders sagged a bit; he wanted to groan so exasperatingly. Here he was, dick still hard, and Valeana was over there making him feel feelings and all that nonsense.

“I’m not going to pretend to support your decision,” Aegon said, emphasizing it with a brandish of his half drunk bottle. “I honestly don’t know why you like my brother at all, to be perfectly honest. He’s a tightass, so full of himself, and a massive bore– Sorry! I digress. I don’t agree that he deserves your forgiveness, let alone your apology, but… I’ll help, if you need me. Only to keep your peace of mind. I don’t want you running through the corridors at night crying again. I need sleep, too.”

She smiled sweetly again, and Aegon mentally cursed when his cock twitched between his legs. When Valeana scooched closer to him to put a hand on his arm, he pressed himself further into the wall.

“Thank you, Aegon. You’re not as much of a cad as you think you are.”

Aegon melted into the stone that caged him in. He partly wanted to just slip through the gaping balcony and meet the Stranger at the base of the tower, but her hand on his arm grounded him in place. He cleared his throat and adjusted himself, with legs still crossed and hand still clutching his bottle like a life preserver.

It was difficult to look at her for this.

“Yes, well… I don’t know if I entirely agree with you… But, for what it is worth, Valeana… I am sorry. For, y’know, everything I’ve done.”

He could see her swallow down her emotions as much as he did, and he found himself captivated by her neck as she did. When his gaze moved north, he openly stared at the purse of her lips, and how she moved her tongue over to relieve the chapped skin.

“I appreciate the apology, Aegon,” her hand squeezed his arm. “And,” air filled her chest, pressing the neckline tighter over her bosom, and it was taking his last shred of willpower not to look down. “I forgive you.”

His purple eyes shot up to hers.

Val gave a soft laugh, “Gods, what a weird thing for me to say.”

He laughed too, albeit more nervously, “Yes, very weird.”

She pulled away, and he could finally relax his muscles. “I’ll make it up to you for what you did for me,” she declared as she sat up, hands smoothing out the wrinkles of her simple vermillion gown. “I’ll get Shyla off your tail. She has a fickle heart, so it is only a matter of diverting her attention onto someone else.”

“Poor bloke,” Aegon eased himself from the wall he was clinging to. “I mean – your sister is just lovely–”

“I am well aware she is deranged, Aegon.”

“You said it, not me.”

With a hand running down her face, Valeana gave a soft chuckle, “Right… Well, I should be going. Are you going to remain here?”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his leg, “Y-yes. I have, uhm– some business to attend to.”

Her brow knitted, “Business? What possible business could you– Oh,” she caught his eyes flickering to his crotch. “Oh! Oh, Gods, Aegon, this entire time?”

Aegon cringed, his lips pulling downward as he sucked his teeth, “Yes. I’m afraid he won’t be put down until I take care of’em. Once the little bugger is up, he’s up.”

“Seven Hells, Aegon!”

“You’re welcome to stay and show me more of your gratitude–” The woman’s hand raised ready to strike him across the face, “It was a jest! A jest!”

Notes: I know this was very non Aemond heavy, but I needed to get some plot points through that's going on in the background. Though I'm hoping to get the next chapter out sooner than intended, because it's a good'un.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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jomamaofficial · 6 months ago

Text

A Hero's Burden (Midoriya x GN!Reader Angst No Comfort Oneshot)

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, SPECIAL THANKS TO @caramello07, BECAUSE THIS ABSOLUTE LEGEND HAS BEEN HELPING ME CREATE THE PLOT AND BETAREADING MY WORK. LITERALLY, BESTIE, YOU'RE A REAL ONE 🫶🫶.

Hello hello my lovely readers! Thank you for being patient with me. My exams are around the corner so I have been so, so busy with that. But I always pop in to see you guys leave the most beautiful feedback and comments, it makes my day <3. I hope you enjoy this just as much as I did. I really put my heart and soul into this one.

Please let me know whether I should lowkey create a YouTube channel where I read out my work the way I intended to.

As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I absolutely adore all of you, and I want to take this time to thank you guys for your support. Seeing your comments and messages motivates me to write :) <3. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :).

TW: Death and bleeding, SUICIDAL themes.

CW: SPOILER: Season 6, Izuku’s Vigilante arc, swearing, difficult friendship dynamics.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3242.

Summary: Heroes always win. Every folktale, every comic, everything in our life tells us the same thing: good reigns over evil. But the harsh truth comes crashing down in a dark warehouse, where the facade of invincibility crumbles. Amidst the shadows, surrounded by those who once vowed to protect, you can only helplessly watch as your best friend, Midoriya Izuku destroys himself under the weight of this flawed, and broken system. With the entire hero society relying on him, how can he stop giving everything he has? In a world where heroes are human and kindness is a liability. You try to help him, yet even the strongest bonds can shatter under the weight of despair.

——————————————————————————————————

How does it feel?

When everything in front of you disintegrates into pieces, whilst you can only sit there and watch?

It feels like a dark warehouse. Cold and wet.

Sunken in, casting a dark shadow, impersonating the night sky, your eyelids were heavy, succumbing to the shared lethargy that lurked in the heavy air. Your brain did not allow you to rest however, listening only to your palpitating heart, because what if the villains found you whilst you were fast asleep?

Heroes were there to protect you.

But why were you still so afraid? The nation's best heroes had congregated together, sharing the same space as you, breathing the same air as you.

They would never let harm come your way– it was their duty to protect you.

So why were they hiding from that harm, sitting with their knees held close to their chest?

Heroes were there to protect you, but that claim was voiceless in the presence of reality: heroes were hidden– whispering and begging the ground to stay silent as they shuffled in the shadows. Villains ran loose– mocking the hopeless souls that they trampled on, with every free, and unabashed step they took.

Death had not only taken multiple heroes on the battlefield; it had also snatched their facade.

They were not invincible. They were not untouchable.

The world had just forgotten that their heroes were only human after all.

A phone rang.

Roaming eyes halted. They could not speak.

“It’s mine”, Hawks said.

Breaths were held.

“It’s from All Might”.

You leaned in closer.

“Midoriya-kun came into contact with the second hired gun.”

Your chest ceased to move.

“...and he won instantly.”

“Young man-”

“He didn’t have any information.”

The sky wept.

The moon and stars had masked themselves under the darkness that shrouded the city. If they could not see you, they could not harm you.

Toshinori Yagi had just watched the last remains of Midoriya Izuku’s innocence drain into the gutters of Musutafu.

“He might explode too. Be careful.”

He felt the impact of his student’s departure faster than he could comprehend. Therefore he took the chance to call after Midoriya, summoning the scarce energy he had left, ignoring the rising threat in his weak chest, which was ready to surrender to the bloody phlegm building inside of him.

“Wait a minute!” Toshinori ran after him– though Midoriya had only moved for a second.

“Food!” he gasped, his hands lifting a box wrapped in a blue cloth. ““Please, my son, you haven’t eaten…”

His hands tightly grasped around the soft, crisp fabric that was decorated with orange carrots, and white bunnies with pink noses. When he first saw it, Toshinori chuckled to himself before deciding to buy it– this was made for Midoriya, his rising hero, the purest of hearts.

“All Might.” Midoriya did not look back. “I’m fine now. You don’t have to follow me.”

Toshinori’s shoulders slumped down and his brows lowered, pulling closer together. Midoriya was walking away from him without a second glance.

Midoriya had not met his eyes once today.

“I am fine now.” The wind howled louder than his voice, unconvinced.

“Young Midoriya, please...”

The energy around Midoriya had increased, visible power– venomous and hostile– overflowing from his tense body that was moments away from breaking.

Toshinori had to stop him. Or history would repeat itself.

“Midoriya, please, don’t d-”

“I can move at the same level as your 100%...” Midoriya whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. “You don’t have to worry…”

His tattered clothes soaked in the rain, his sound of his heavy steps getting quieter and quieter.

“Please”, Toshinori begged, “wait a minute…”

But before he could finish his heart’s plea, the one who it was meant for had already left, pushing everything away, leaving everyone he had burdened in the dust.

The lunch that his mentor had lovingly made for him now belonged to the sidewalk and the merciless rain. Soon, it would also flow into the gutters of Musutafu.

The warehouse door crashed open.

“Midoriya is nowhere to be found!”

All Might ran in, his hands against his knees, gasping for the still and stale air.

“He-” he huffed again, regaining his breath,” he, he left… I tried to contact him. Phone… off… he’s nowhere to be found… sent class after him… didn’t find him either”

Your eyes twitched at the blank stares that his words had harboured. No one batted an eye.

They were too busy counting the days until they would be found by the real threat.

All Might’s concern for Midoriya ran thicker than blood. And had you looked past those deep-set eyes, you would have noticed the faint veins that bordered his gaze; something was stolen from him. Midoriya had been stolen by the expectations of the world, held hostage in his own mind.

“I know where he is.”

Orudera Chūgakkō. Memories had been etched into the red brick walls. You pushed against that same black gate, its groans and creaks forming the haunting symphony that would promptly begin at eight o'clock sharp.

Lessons would start at eight-thirty, and the low murmurs of the class would subside as your sensei would come in, dropping her bags next to her desk. You would all stand up together, reciting the same monotonous ‘Good Morning Shima-Sensei’ before sitting back down. If she was in a good mood, the class would commence. But if she was (more likely than not) in a bad mood, the entire class would get a scolding.

“You cannot wish your teacher a pleasant good morning, but you can chat to your friends with double the energy?! Do that again. Now! Show me some respect.” And you would all stand for another five minutes, smirking and giggling, repeating it again.

What once felt like a tedious task now brought a smile to your face as you reminisced about the moments spent in the classroom before you.

Birds would chirp, filling the classroom with a sonorous melody. The walls would be decorated by the younger children who drew rainbows and flowers and butterflies with every colour they could get their hands on. There wasn’t a speck of grey or black found in these drawings.

It was so fun to be a child– just a few years ago, your life was filled with colour.

Everything now was grey and bare.

At ten o’clock, the bell would ring and children would scream as they ran towards their friends, ignoring the poor teachers who repeated: “children, please don’t run in the hallways, children please, you may get hurt!”

The large corridor was so full with a sea of chuckles and laughter.

Today, undisturbed dirt coated every surface on the corridor. A desolate strip led down to the most frequented stairs of your past. Its laborious steps led to a place that no student visited as much as you did. On the sixth floor, the rooftop brought you closer to the blue sky and the fluffy clouds. You and the sun would overlook the vast plains of never ending buildings, glistening under the morning glow. People would walk, cars would drive; the hustle and bustle of everyday life resided on the grounds below you. So how could anyone truly feel alone? How could anyone ignore the true beauty of your favourite spot in the whole school?

You now understood that beauty was in the eye of the beholder– the painful truth.

Sleepless nights were spent wondering, what would have happened if you did not visit the rooftop on one particular day? What would have happened to the nameless boy who had stood there, head hanging low, body quivering, feet on the ledge of railings.

Who could have guessed that this stranger would end up as the only friend you ever had?

You could recognise him in total darkness and in different bodies, for Midoriya Izuku’s pure heart could never change. It would always draw you towards him.

You ran up the swindling stairs, the steps leading up to the sixth floor seeming longer and steeper than before. Serenity only belonged to the past– this place brought nothing but a looming sense of dread, weighing you down as time ticked by.

The closer you got, the weaker your heart felt. You had read about it somewhere– our bodies always knew what would happen, so they could prepare us for the worst.

But the thought of losing him before you could see his eyes, your beacon of light and hope, would rend a part of you forever.

So you carried on walking, ignoring the foreboding pricks cultivating in your body.

Those eyes… you could not live without them. They were an open window into the bright and welcoming flame that resided within him. He would give warmth to those who needed it without asking, never expecting anything in return.

Kindness had no price.

So Midoriya Izuku would live with kindness in his heart, even if it meant that it would be vulnerable and open for everyone to use as they pleased.

Midoriya Izuku was priceless. There was no one like him in this world filled with deceit and hate. But the world did not like those who were different from the rest.

He gave and he gave. Yet what would happen when he gave every piece of himself to a world that never gave back? What would happen if he finally had nothing to give apart from his soul?

The world is cruel.

They would steal everything he had. And that is how you found him, through the already opened door, standing under the thundering sky that showed no forgiveness to the young man who would once smile at them too.

Tip tap, tip tap, your eyes were blurry, but not from the rain. They had betrayed you, yes your gaze. For the man in front of you was not the man whom your heart could recognise from afar. You were so close, yet your hearts held distances, akin to the stars. Blood wept, following the course of the pouring water, revealing wounds, neglected but vain. They cried for attention they would never get, as the man who was once a stranger, had become estranged from them.

“Deku…” you did not want him to turn around, praying for this to be a mistake. FOr him to look confused, asking you, “who’s Deku?”

This can’t be your Deku… he couldn’t be your priceless hero…

His head barely turned, but you caught a glimpse of his glowering eyes.

They donned an arcane mask of toughness. His front, unbreakable on the surface, yet unfortunately flawed. You could see right through it, uncovering the secrets that he hid in plain sight.

Immense pain had found an abode in his glassy, teal eyes; exhaustion chipped away at the shell that kept him put up to protect himself from the looming danger that would attack as soon as it smelt his foetid weakness. Midoriya let it happen once, jeopardising everyone around him.

He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Go away,” Midoriya cautioned.

His heart expended too much energy pushing everyone away. He could only hope that you would listen to him– he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Deku…” you pleaded, eyes misting over as you cautiously step forward, hands stretching wearily towards his shoulders, taking care not to brush past those fresh, untended marks that showed through the rips and tears in his clothes.

“Please Deku… let me help you.”

Midoriya stiffened under your touch, guilt overtaking his body.

You couldn’t be seen with him.

The eyes. They were everywhere.

They tracked his every move. And if they saw you now, he would never see you again.

You felt a strong jolt push you back into the wall, your head crashing against the stone walls, losing your grip on him completely. Your hands felt empty– he had disappeared from under your touch.

And it all happened so fast.

Midoriya stared at his hands, his blood fleeing from his extremities. The realisation slowly dawned upon him, raising his heart beat, shifting the energy around him– he was a monster. Mioriya began gasping for air, choking on his own spit and tears, his vision tunnelled in on the surface of his palms.

A monster.

That’s what he was.

Your body lay limp in the rubble of concrete and dust, you swore you felt something wet on the back of your head, but your eyes urgently searched for Midoriya, who was pale and frozen near the edge of the roof.

His feet began to sway, and his eyes began to flutter shut. You overlooked the jolts in your body for your mind could not bear this sight again. Despite the clear warnings your aching flesh had given you to rest, you still ran towards him, clutching his body before he fell onto the ground.

Only in your arms had the outer shell of this vigilante’s stone defence fallen, emerging a broken child who had just caused immense pain to his best friend.

“I’m so sorry”, he whispered through his dried throat, quivering as the walls in his mind closed in on him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry”, he repeated, again and again, trapped in a cyclical doom which served only to condemn him.

He was a monster– that depraved voice screamed.

He was a monster– that depraved voice echoed as it stalked him in the depths of his own mind, following him into his deepest, intimate fears. Clutching it, taking over.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

He was disturbingly light in your arms; you just noticed his hollowed cheeks.

Midoriya’s strained forehead loosened as he broke down in your hold, tears running down his thinning face. Your heart beat alongside his, yet you did not dare to glance into his emerald eyes, for they had been robbed of their precious shine. You placed your finger over his mouth as he opened it to say something, a silent reminder– everything will be alright.

“Give me your pain, Deku, please…” you begged, stroking his curly hair away from his eyes. “I can’t see you like this anymore”.

A singular tear dropped on his cheek, stinging him with regret.

“You don’t have to carry that burden alone, Deku… It’s too big… too big to carry alone. You give too much, you don’t know when to rest. You break yourself, for people who don’t deserve it and you take on things bigger than you can ever manage! You think you can do everything Deku, but you can’t!” you cried, unable to stop.

“You don’t need to work this hard, Deku, you don’t. You’re forgetting who you were, Deku. You’re not indestructible! You’re not untouchable, you’re not All Might! You can get hurt, you- you can bleed, you can die for god’s sake, Deku, you can die!”

Your voice began raising uncontrollably, as you held his face, shaking him.

“You’re just a kid, Deku. My Deku… the sweet boy who I love. My best friend…” you grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you took deep breaths, your throat aching.

“But you’re unrecognisable now… You’re destroying yourself thinki- thinking that you’ll survive but what if you don’t. What if you don’t survive, and all of your friends, your teachers, your mom, they’re all just waiting for you to come back.”

Your eyes solemnly scanned his wrist, eyebrows furrowed and lowered. A litany of cuts, healed and unhealed, adorned his wrists, glaring at you. Your trembling fingers gently ran over them, hovering so as to not agitate them.

“But since you wanted to prove that you’re a hero, you go around picking fights that you can’t win.”

The scars on his wrist opened wounds of the past.

Your hands that held his wrist felt empty again. Midoriya averted his eyes from yours, before pulling his sleeves down, stretching the thinning material of his hero-suit, until it covered his exposed skin.

The rain’s sobbing grew louder with every moment that passed by in dismal silence.

“What would you even know about my life, Y/N?" he asked, his voice drowning in the cacophony of the storm.

Just like that, all of the progress you made had collapsed in front of your eyes. Midoriya had rebuilt the cage around his heart

“Deku, what happened?”

Your hands, which reached out for him, were immediately shaken off.

“What would you know about my life? About my struggles?”

His legs faltered when he tried to run away, cramping as a warning: Midoriya couldn’t move, he had used up all of his energy.

“Deku plea-”

“You said what you wanted to say, Y/N. Thanks for reminding me that I can’t let my guard down, even near people I thought I could trust. I’m not ‘indestructible’, I’m not All Might, I never claimed that. But unlike you, I have the world's burden around my shoulders. If you were putting everyone around you in danger, you'd run away too Y/N. But you wouldn’t know that because you're not the one giving everything your body can give, just to find out it's never going to be enough. You’re not the reason this entire city has turned into a ghost town. But what would you know, Y/N?”

He turned around, gaze hardened into stone.

“You're quirkless".

Blood rushed into your cheeks, your heart beating fast.

You must have misheard.

“You don’t mean that…”

He didn’t. The sweet boy you had met years ago on this same rooftop would never use that against you. He didn’t mean it.

"Now, I know why I was treated the way I was when I was younger, Y/N. The quirkless really don't know anything."

You couldn't have misheard that.

You had been beside his side to see every intimate detail in Midoriya’s life– every victory, every laughter, you celebrated together. Every shove and every taunt, you endured together.

“The Quirkless Duo, aw what are you going to do now? Cry?”

“I wonder how your parents feel, only having one useless kid that can never protect them.”

“Ya’ know, if you want a quirk, there might be another way. Take a swan dive off the roof of the building, and pray for a quirk in your next life."

We are born into this world completely alone. And we die in this world completely alone.

Only fools believe that they can escape that.

‘What would you know, Y/N, you're quirkless.’

You were truly alone in every stage of your life.

"You're becoming exactly what we feared, Midoriya.”

He stopped in his tracks, swallowing the rising bile that crept up his throat.

“If I knew this is what I'd get after standing up for you those countless times where I got hurt, where I got kicked and punched and teased everytime I defended you, I would have just let you jump off that roof.”

The wind wailed through the night sky, moving everything in its path.

“You're no hero Midoriya. But you’re right about one thing. You’re the fucking reason everything around you is getting destroyed.”

It was funny to think that their first and last meeting would be on this rooftop.

Midoriya looked at the world, greyer than it had ever been.

It had lost life.

He waited until he heard the door shut behind him.

This life truly had nothing to live for.

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