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sanspuppet · 11 months

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𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 - 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

PAIRING: Yunho x fem!reader

RATING: smut (18+ MDNI)

W/T: colleagues to lovers, unprotected sex (do not), kinda rough sex, overstimulation, choking, mention of toys, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)

A/O: i want to thank @yuyusbunny for proofreading this fanfiction (i hope the next ones too) and helping me improving myself, lov u Laz 🫶🏻🫶🏻.

𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾𐬿𐬾

You were now walking down the street, your eyes clinging to your phone, searching for the nearest way to reach the bar that hired you the day before. You were messing with your left hand nervously, as you were trying to imagine your first day of work.

"It's very famous to be a bar, what if im not meant for it? Nah... they say the owner is very kind... i hope so."

Your best friend Jongho found this job for you, knowing that you were searching desperately for one, he was also a noticed costumer there, so when he mentioned you, it was almost like you were instantly accepted. Honestly you weren't into locals, that one was very well known in town, but you've never went there. A few minutes later, you were facing the entrance of the bar, the led writing with the name of it, as an attractor of attention. Flower, tiny trees and bonsais were decorating the outside, even if the local was recently open that morning, most of the tables were occupied by the people, drinking their coffees and eating something for breakfast.

"There it is..." you entered, hesitant, looking for your boss.

"Uhm... hello? Is there... a Jeong Yunho? Im y/n, the new employee." you asked at the bartender. He looked at you from head to toes, his smile making him look easily approachable.

"Oh, y/n! We finally meet, Jongho told me of you a few times. Wait a second, imma look for Yunho."

You leaned on your elbow on the counter, and tapped your fingers on the wood, while looking at the inside of the local. Soon after, you saw the figure of a tall man, heading towards you.

"Good morning."

you turned your head, looking at him. His low voice almost scared you for a second, despite his puppy eyes studying you. Meanwhile, you were already struggling to keep yourself composed:

"Shit, i didn't expect him to be this hot."

His black shirt, slightly unbottoned, was revealing his collarbones, and what it seemed the shadow of a tattoo.

"And he is supposed to be a barista??"

His cheekbones popped out when he smiled at you, revealing his sweet attitude.

"Im Yunho! Your boss, but i hope we'll get closer in the future, i'd like to be friends with my employees, if it doesn't bother you." You shaked your head, smiling back:

"Absolutely not! my name's y/n."

"My pleasure, come here, i'll teach you the work."

The day went great, the tasks were pretty easy, and you loved the chill mood created in that local, lounge bar music relaxing you and the costumers as they were waiting for you to serve their order. The only problem was that, everytime your boss was in your vicinity, checking you or just asking you to do something, your mind always blocked at his sight. No need to say because of his hotness, out of tune with his sweet personality, you'd say he's the perfect man.

"Y/n, can you come here?" you nodded and headed towards him, behind the counter.

"Yeah?"

"I need to teach you how to make coffee. You can't just be a waitress, right?" Yunho chuckled.

"Uhm... yeah, i think."

"Don't worry, it's pretty easy. We use instant coffee."

He turned, giving you his back, and took a few sticks containing the coffee mixture. Once he turned to look at you, he handed you one, smiling. Until that moment you didn't realize his hands, god his hands... slender, bony and veiny, his nails well taken care of. You shuddered when they made contact with yours, shivers running down your spine, fighting not to let yourself be carried away by your own thoughts, dirty thoughts.

"You have to pour the mixture in the cup." he gave you one, so you could copy his movements. You were quite slow in all you were doing, mind only focused on his long fingers, doing their job. You seemed... lost, or simply confused.

"y/n? you alright?" he asked, trying to figure out why you were so worked up from that easy tutorial. He then held the cup in front of your face, two fingers wrapped around the base of it. "You have to pour the boiled water slightly above two fingers, understand?"

"Wha- Oh, yes, yeah." you shook your head, trying to kick those pretty hands away from your mind.

"Then you keep stirring it until it looks good, easy right?"

"Yeah..."

Yunho grimaced, tilting his head to one side. He moved his hands on your shoulders, his fingers gripping at you. He then dragged them down your arms, slowly.

"You're so hot y/n." he whispered, his warm breath reaching your sensitive skin.

"W-what?" you felt your heartbeat accelerating from just that simple, innocent sentence. You looked at him, already panicking. He moved his right hand on your forehead, your mind was going to go on stend-by, from the feeling of him softly caressing it. You were surely developing the fattest crush you'd ever had, on him, your boss.

"You sure you're feeling good? i think you probably have a fever, your skin seems burning."

"Why does he have to be so handsome and adorable at the same time??" you said to yourself, unable to focus on his words, given his aphrodisiac beauty.

"Look at your cheeks, they're of a burning red." he caressed them, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips.

"It's because of you, dumbass." You moved your sight on his puppy eyes, probably unsuspecting the effects that his touch were giving to you.

"No, im okey." you murmured finally. Yunho moved his hands off of your body, and started to put away all of the stuff positioned on the counter.

"Uhm, anyways... the local is going to close soon, you can go for now if you want to."

You nodded, and made your way towards the door, almost forgetting it was made of glass... Well, not almost, because you bumped into it, making Yunho laugh.

The next days, and weeks, went similar: you simply did your new job. Went to work at late morning and got home at 7 p.m. You got used to that routine, you were well paid and had good company, perhaps the presence of your boss was what definitively convinced you to stay... hell ya, you were pretty sure he was the principal cause. Everyday he somehow found the way to touch you, making your insides fall apart in every single case: he'd move you away by grabbing your waist when he has to pass nearby, hold your hand when he'd accompany you to the back of the bar, or when you'd have your new nails done to get a closer sight, he also complimented your look every morning. In short: or he was the gentleman in person, or he was just clingy, or he also was infatuated by your simple existence. (No need to say that the last one was the one you hoped for so bad). At the end, you really became friends, after days of you joking and laughing together during work.

𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺

"y/n, i was wondering something." he broke the silence between you two, when he turned his head to face you, behind the counter where you were waiting for new costumers to come. You were quite nervous everytime you were alone with him: your foot kept beating on the floor.

"Uh-huh?" you murmured, focusing on the people sitting in front of you, both for not thinking of Yunho too much, and to make sure they were satisfied with your service.

"Today is Monday, right? So tomorrow we're open by the afternoon" his gaze glued to your pretty side profile.

"Yeah, i know" the feeling of his eyes sticking at you made your legs dizzy. "What's his purpose?" you thought.

"Wanna hang out later?"

"Oh no, he didn't-" you weren't mentally prepared to spend an entire evening with him, another touch from him and you were sure you'd fall on your knees for him, dick straight choking your throat. "Holy shit... and now?"

"Sure..." you couldn't deny, right? the worst thing that could have happened was that nothing would happen. In facts, you surely wanted him to just grab your hips and fuck you already. What? he couldn't just wear those skinny jeans and "accidentally" press his bulge against your ass, without expecting you to get horny. he was a freaking bastard in those moments, or he was dumb, or he liked the way you blushed and had your heart freaking out everytime he touched you, what a sadistic bastard. Yeah... you were definitely losing your mind, you craved for that man like a drugged craves for his drugs.

"Perfect! Give me your address, imma pick you up later, what about 8 p.m?" he took his phone, ready to take notes.

"shit, he's gonna enter my house"

"Uhm yeah, wait a second..."

A few hours later you were struggling to choose what to wear, still half naked from the shower you just took, hands grabbing dozens of dresses to look at them, trying to figure out which one to wear.

"if he told me at least where we're going..."

"should i wear just something cool?" "and if we go to a multi-star restaurant? i should be elegant..." "and if he takes me to his place?"

you suddenly heard the doorbell ringing, Yunho's voice speaking through the entryphone: "y/n? are you there?"

"duh... really??" you picked the first dress that caught your attention, wearing it while heading towards the principal door, you fixed your hair before opening it.

"Oh, here you are." he smiled at your presence.

"I need to do my make-up, it'll take a few minutes, come inside." you moved to one side, making him able to enter the house. He followed you till your bedroom, taking a look of the furniture, instead you entered the bathroom minding your own business. While you were putting on your mascara, you were staring at the reflection of Yunho through your mirror, and finally noticed how simply gorgeous Yunho looked: the smoking suit he was wearing fitted perfectly his slender body, the dark blue waist coat adhering to his chest. You lost yourself again inside your thoughts, your hands automatically moving and the figure of Yunho was only present in your mind. Once you got back to reality and exited your bathroom, you saw him sat on your bed, holding what seemed to be the buzzing toy you used to use during your desperate nights, and coincidentally, the night before was one of them. He was looking at it intensely, turning it around to see every detail. When he saw the small button he couldn't help but click it, making the vibrator starting to do what it was supposed to.

"Oh" a small whimper left his mouth as the toy he was holding started vibrating.

"No. nonono, fuck-" you ran towards him, intent on taking back what was yours.

"Give me that, Yunho." you took the vibration from his hands, holding it like it was your most intimate treasure.

"Uhm im sorry, i sat down and felt it under the blanket, didn't mean it." his innocent gaze turned quickly into a smirk, he leaned back on his elbows facing you while his body rested on the soft mattress of your bed, his legs open. "Didn't expect you to use that kind of stuff."

"I don't..." you tried to say, despite you perfectly knew that you sucked at lying.

"It's still wet." he chuckled, seeing your eyes widening, full of embarrassment, no wonder why your cheeks were of an intense red, and it surely wasn't because of your make-up. "Uhm-" you murmured, trying to think of a good lie this time.

"Don't lie to me, princess. You're a woman, it's normal to need some pleasure, right? Only thinking that looking at you, you'd easily get something way better than a vibrator."

You raised one eyebrow, asking again to yourself what were his wills: "What do you mean, huh?"

"Don't know, want me to prove it?" his smirk getting wider as he noticed you on the verge of your denial resistance.

"For now? No thanks im good with it."

"seriously? i had the chance to take him and i just wasted it? God, im so stupid." you wanted to slap your face right there, refusing yourself to believe what you just refused.

"Well, if you say so. Come on now, the restaurant is waiting for us."

He brought you to a famous italian restaurant, thank goodness that you were wearing an elegant dress, which as always Yunho complimented:

"You look so beautiful in that dress, the color matches your eyes perfectly." he said, when you both finished your dinner. The situation was quite embarrassing: you were constantly making eye contact, but not a single word leaving your mouth, expect a small murmur:

"Thank you, you're also very handsome..."

You didn't know if what happened at your house was only a joke, or his attempt to approach you, whatever it was, his previous proposal was now torturing your mind. After thinking of it a little too much you finally chose to just ignore it, and tried to enjoy some good time with Yunho.

"Oh God... he's drunk" you looked at his red face, chuckling while taking other sips of wine, his sight seemed fogged as he was trying hard to focus on your face when you talked:

"Yunho, you should stop drinking."

He laughed out loud, almost losing his balance, sat on his chair: "i can't! im so happy!"

"Why?" you asked, confused.

"Because i finally asked you to hang out with me!" he smiled, before standing up, already on the verge of falling, you stood up and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist, yours on his shoulder, helping him to walk straight. Your legs were shaking too, not because of the alcohol, but for the feeling of Yunho's finger gripping at your body, which drove you crazy. A smirk was continuously placed on his face, his head resting on the top of yours, as you were accompanying him to his car. You asked for its keys and sat in the driver's seat. You didn't know his address and because he was drunk he couldn't remember it, so you drove to your house. You were in your bathroom brushing your teeth and getting ready to go to sleep, once you got out, you found him already sleeping on you bed. You headed towards him, and knelt down to look at his tired face.

"He looks so cute... wait- and now? where do i sleep??"

You looked around, despite you hadn't another bed at your place, and there was no way you'd sleep on the floor, excluding your mini couch. You had no choice but to lay on your bed, staring at Yunho till collapsing from your tiredness.

The morning after, you woke up at the sunrise, when you turned your head to look for Yunho, you're heart almost stopped at the sight of his face a few inches from yours. His soft cheeks resting on the pillow made him look adorable. That moment felt perfect, until you moved your gaze down his body, and noticed his crotch pressing against the fabric of his pants, as if it wanted to escape from them, you widened your eyes, amazed:

"Jeez- he's pretty big..." you murmured, and suddenly frozen hearing Yunho yawning, having just woke up.

"what did you say, y/n? Wait... why am i laying on your bed?! W-what happened yesterday??" he immediately stood up, panick rushing inside his body.

"Nothing, you were drunk so i took you to my place."

He looked down at the feeling of his pants tightening, and gasped, knowing that you probably noticed it too, he moved his gaze at you nervously, then chuckled shyly:

"Uhm well... i should go now and take care of... the bar" he squeezed his eyes and sighed: "Yeah, the bar..."

𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼

The next weeks went as usual, just working and drooling secretly for your boss, handsome and kind as always. You were now sure that you loved him, what you kept asking to yourself was if he felt the same for you. And how could you prove that? Teasing him. Usually he was the one that "involuntarily" teased you in many ways. So you finally decided to test the waters, pretending to act normal as you were voluntarily driving him crazy. You actually acted like an annoying slut in his presence, rubbing yourself against him in every occasion, walking sensually, sure that his gaze was glued to your ass, sometimes you even vaguely flirted with cute costumers just to get him jealous. After only a week, you could tell that he was extremely on the verge of losing his patience.

It was late October, outside was raining hard and the bar was completely empty of people, just you and Yunho. He was looking intensely at you, while you were decorating a cupcake for fun, sometimes licking the cream off of your fingers joyfully. He sighed, arm crossed:

"Why you keep acting like this, huh?" he headed towards you, till he was just a few inches far from you.

"Like what?" you smirked at him.

"Like a slut, are you joking or just needy for cock? Tell me."

"Maybe both, don't know. Maybe i just need to get what im craving, don't you think?" Where did you even find that confidence all of a sudden? Was your whore side finally taking the control?

He got closer to you, the feeling of his heavy breath on your lips: "Uh-huh? And what do you crave so bad?"

you giggled, your heartbeat starting to accelerate: "Guess."

He sighed again, but this time a small smirk taking his way on his lips: "Come on doll, just stop joking around, i perfectly know you want me." he got closer, whispering at your right ear: "Just wondering why you didn't fuck me that night." You bit your lower lip, how many times you asked yourself the same question? "i don't even know, maybe you can ask me again to."

Yunho laughed, nodding. He took you in his arms, and make you sit on the counter, his hands on your sides to make you stay still. You could hear his heart pulsing quickly, yours was about to flutter, and the both of you inhaling deeply the air. He whispered again, his voice lower than ever:

"Wanna fuck, my beautiful?"

You chuckled: "who told you that im yours"

"Gonna mark you right now."

You whispered back: "Go on, then." Before he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, kissing you passionately. Your tongues found their ways inside your mouths, his hands moving on every inch of your body, you could feel your skin burning under his touch. Thrill rushing in your blood as he sucked on your neck, leaving hickeys all over your sensitive skin, he was about to hike your t-shirt up when you stopped him:

"Yunho... the bar is open."

He rolled his eyes back and sighed: "Okey then, i'll bring you to my house, now." He took your hands, helping you to get down of the counter. He turned off the lights and the power of the place, you ran to his car while he was closing the bar. When you arrived, Yunho was already taking you in his arms, heading towards his bedroom. You giggled when he pinned you against the wall, him holding your wrist while you were stuck in a long, wet kiss. Small whimpers leaving your mouth, happy because you finally were trapped in his arms, horny because you were imagining what was coming next:

"Come on boss, teach me how to behave."

He groaned, looking intensely at your smirking face: "Oh fuck, i love when you call me that way" he sucked your earlobe, then murmured: "it gets me so hard, you can't even imagine." He gripped your waist, and throwed you onto the bed, leaving small kisses down your body, while he was dragging your clothes off of you, until you were completely naked. Shivers were running down your spine at the sudden cold feeling. He stood up, taking a complete look of your breathtaking body, his boner exposing his needs.

"God, you're soaking wet, all because of me." he chuckled, his chest expanding continuously as he was breathing heavily, while unbuttoning his shirt. Once he had only his boxers on, you were desperately begging him to go ahead: "please please please take them off..."

Yunho opened your legs, making room for himself. He pressed his bulge on your bare cunt, forcing you to whine annoyingly.

"You like when i tease you, don't you?"

"God im begging you please i need you inside me"

"Oh i see, should i give you what you want since you're acting so good for me?" he dragged down his underwear, his cock popping out, standing proudly: "Hmm?"

You kept nodding: "Yesyesyesyes-"

One hand held your thigh firmly as the other stroked his length a few times, preparing at the incoming pleasure he was about to feel. You arched your back when he finally pushed himself inside you, unbelievably hitting your g-spot with the first thrust:

"Fuck! Shit Yunho- s-so perfect..."

His hands were caressing your belly softly, unlike the way he was pumping in you roughly. He was too excited to finally have you, he couldn't contain himself and be gentle. No, he wanted to ruin your pretty hole so you would stop to seduce him and getting him hard during work.

"Now that you're so whiny, do you still wanna tease me?" he stopped, knowing that it would drive you crazy. He felt your walls clenching intensely, signaling him that you were "so close so close- please keep it in!"

"You're already reaching your orgasm, doll?" his cockhead rubbing against your clit, enough for you to roll your eyes back and suddenly creaming your folds. You moaned loudly, you're voice broken after only a few minutes. He leaned on you, his hands caressing your collarbones, feeling your chest widening under his palm.

"Too bad, because i haven't yet."

Yunho wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing it enough for you to breathe but not to groan. You looked at him with desperate eyes, feeling your soul almost leaving your body because of the overwhelming pleasure.

"i'll be forced to give you some days off, you're not going to walk for a week"

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, helping yourself to stay still while he was pressing you against the mattress. Every single thrust felt like heaven, there was no way he could be a virgin, he knew every spot where you needed to be touched. Yunho was also pretty loud during sex, your pussy fitted him perfectly, so much that he became addicted to it within the first minute. A mix of low and high moans were leaving his mouth constantly, he threw his head back once he felt his climax getting closer.

"Fuck you're so perfect for me, can't wait you to be mine."

Yunho took his hand off of your neck, and held your legs while he was pumping in you lastly. He bit his tongue forcefully, you were surely the best fuck he'd ever had. He didn't want to stop, despite the pleasure becoming too intense to be handled. Tears were falling across your face, feeling your pussy getting worshipped by his dick, too fucked out to even answer him:

"Want me to fill you with my seed, princess?"

You nodded slightly, biting your lower lip and rubbing away your ruined mascara from your eyes.

He pulled out and in, one time, rougher than ever.

"I want you to use your words when i speak."

You whined in reply: "Shit- yes boss, im begging you."

A few more thrust and he felt his orgasm hitting his body, releasing a big load, ropes of hot cum taking their way inside you, mixed with your own arousal. You both groaned at the addictive feeling. His cock was swirling once he finally slid out of you. Yunho headed towards the bathroom and brought you a towel, he caressed you inner thighs while cleaning you from the mess he made. He kissed your body repeatedly, getting closer to your face. He stopped at the sight of your surprised expression:

"Aftercare?" you asked.

"What? I might be a rough dom but im still a gentleman."

Yunho joined you on the bed, and wrapped his arms around your body in a warm hug. He moved your hair from your face leaving a small kiss on your forehead.

"Gotta make sure you'll never leave me."

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queenpiranhadon · 3 months

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A/N: I’ll leave the sentimental stuff for the end <3 Here’s the masterlist!!!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, war, reader gets hurt and hits her head a lot, hints of misogyny, betrayals, Kirishima’s just the best, character death, gore and blood, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB , ANGST, PTSD, mentions of burns, kabedon, you kiss him, a sweet moment between Katsuki and reader :), happy ending

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ: The Lake

You can’t breathe.

Denki’s blood stains the stone beneath him. Ejiro runs to his side, but all you can do is stand there in shock.

How could you be so reckless?!

“Kirishima, protect him!” you roar, the red head flinching at the sound of his surname. He's not used to seeing you like this, but nods firmly, making a makeshift bandage in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

You can’t risk looking back. You needed to continue to take down the two men in an instant before running off, determined to take down as many as you could.

BOOM!

A large explosion knocks you off balance, the same follows for everyone in your sight, watching in horror as 5 large machines demolish the rest of the capital gates.

Tanks.

Shit.

The Inimican flag is held proudly, attached to the first tank in the center. You want to rip it off.

Soldiers from both sides scramble away from them to ensure they wouldn’t be crushed by the monstrous hunks of metal that were destroying your home.

You take in a shaky deep breath, trying to block out the destruction all around you.

You needed to think.

Inimicus, you knew, had a very different culture when it came to combat. While their highest ranking military official was on the battlefield, they wouldn’t actively be engaging in combat - instead opting to remain somewhere safe where they could call the shots.

You needed to find which of the armored tanks housed said person. If you could at least take them down, the rest would follow suit.

You bolt in the opposite direction as your comrades, straight towards the tanks, frantically searching for the one thing that would bring your plan to fruition.

You run - so fast you could fly - and yet, it was still not enough, because your friend was bleeding out and about to die.

Finally, you find it.

A gargantuan tank, the color of coal, with silver letters emblazoned on its side.

The Palanquin.

That’s where the leader would be.

And so, that’s where you needed to go.

***

It wasn’t easy trying to sneak into a giant tank, to say the least.

Especially while it was moving.

You sigh, deciding there was no point in contemplating how to discreetly enter and instead work things one step at a time.

First, you need to get close.

Sprinting directly in the direction of The Palanquin, you hear Kirishima’s screams begging you to come back.

You don't listen.

You run until you feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs, close enough now that your fingertips can graze the roaring metal if you stick your hand out.

Examining the structure, you see a ledge on the tank that's inverted, a decently sized area for you to jump on to.

You lower your torso, still sprinting before launching yourself from the balls of your feet, landing on the ledge, but banging your head against the metal walls of The Palanquin in the process.

“Ah- gods dammit! Fucking hell…” you grumble, now battling the severe ache in your head that started to form.

Eyes latching onto a panel at the bottom of the platform you stood on, you got to thinking. You could pry it open, maybe slip in quietly. Stomping experimentally, you hear a hollow thud, meaning you’d have an area to slip into. You just distant humming - ventilation? That would be perfect. Through the vents you could discreetly go around The Palanquin without anyone noticing; it was unusual however, considering most tanks didn’t have a vent in the first place. But considering The Palanquin was a defensive tank, it made sense.

Brandishing your sword, you accidentally disrupt your balance, wobbling before regaining your stance, lodging your sword into the side of the panel to use it like a lever.

Once it’s far down enough, you push down, using the force to pop open the panel.

Creeaaaak.

The panel pops open, and for a moment, you feel triumphant.

But then your sword’s blade snaps in half.

Fuck.

You groan internally, knowing that it was most definitely a suicide mission to go and fight the Inimican military head without your weapon, but you had no choice. At least you still had your dagger and stars.

There was no going back.

You sigh, heart heavy as you throw it off the side of The Palanquin before slipping into the crawlspace the panel had created.

It was dark, but a few vent covers provided a dim light source along the bottom of the ventilation tubes.

Suddenly you hear voices, fear freezing you in place, even though you knew they couldn’t hear you.

“They’re all running- buncha cowards if you ask me.”

“Come now, they’re only human. It’s remarkable how they have such survival instincts.”

You shudder silently at the latter’s tone of voice. They spoke about the human race as if they were pets, something subliminal.

It was disgusting.

Pushing away your irritation and sudden urge to defend the human race, you silent keep crawling, until you spot an empty room through one of the vent covers.

Luckily, you didn’t have to pry this one open, the cover popping open immediately one you hooked your fingers underneath the metal.

You slip into the space, dropping down and barely managing to land on your feet, only to lose your balance as the entire tank shudders, mentally sobbing as you realize you were going to hit your head for the second time today, only to be yanked upwards at the last minute and coming face to face with those angered vermillion eyes that had been plaguing you constantly.

Bakugou?!

Your eyes widen, emotions all flooding in at once. You wanted to slap him, but also run away and cry in a corner, or just disappear entirely, too embarrassed for any type of confrontation. And there was one more - you hated yourself for it though. You felt…giddy?

Bakugou however, had no such emotions, eyes taking in his surroundings and listening intently for anyone approaching before returning his sharp gaze back to you.

“What the fuck do ya think yer doin’?!” he whispers harshly, and you will yourself not to flinch or get flustered by his proximity.

“What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?! Were you working for the damn Inimicans this whole time?!” you ask incredulously, shoving the man off of you.

Bakugou looks like he wants to throttle you at the mere implication that he was disloyal, but he seethes in silence, turning away and fisting his blonde locks in irritation.

“Ya bein' here ruins everythin', Shit. How am I supposed to find the main room with ya taggin' along?!” he groans and you feel a spark of anger flare up inside you.

“Captain - I’ve proven myself time and time again that I’m a competent warrior- you said before that I wasn’t ready, that I haven’t seen people die, but I’ve tortured, killed, and almost died twice for my country- is that not enough?! Before I was inexperienced, and that’s fine- but to judge me and hate me now just because I’m a girl-”

“Ya think I’m pissed off because yer a fuckin' girl?! I don’t fucking care about that shit. Hell - my own Ma is probably better at fighting then half of our army. No, I’m fucking pissed because ya lied. Make a fool outta me and then ya go and get yerself fucking stabbed to save me,” he snaps - you feel your throat dry.

He- what?

The captain rolls his eyes, scoffing and making his way to the door of the room, listening intently before straightening up.

“Are ya comin' or what?” he grumbles, seeming oddly subdued in a way, but you decide to overlook it as you clear your throat, nodding briefly, following him and slipping into the hallway.

You could feel your heartbeat as you slowly make your way down the compact hall, gripping onto your dagger like your life depended on it.

Technically, it did.

Then, you hear voices down the hall again.

Shit!

Your body freezes up, unsure of what to do, but Bakugou’s arm encircles around your waist and tugs you harshly, slipping into a small, stuffy room that held a box attached to multitudes of wires, along with some levers and switches.

And either due to the small space or abundance of machinery, it was really hot.

Especially since the only way you both could fit in there was with your face smothered into Bakugou’s firm chest.

The gods really didn’t let you off easy, did they?

You feel hot and your heartbeat was pounding wildly. What do you do, just stand there?!

You can’t see Bakugou’s face in the darkness, trying to interpret what he’s thinking, until more voices resurface - a recognizable one.

You freeze, as panic sets in, realizing who was speaking.

“Ugh, that stupid bitch cut through my shoulder, I can barely move it,” the man grumbles, his low voice haunting. “Can’t believe I wasted so much on her.”

Dabi.

You tense up, fear clouding every corner of your mind as your concentrated breaths turn short and ragged.

Shit shit shit…what if he finds you?!

You grip your abdomen, almost wanting to throw up, phantom pain searing in your mind as you remember the sickening scent of melting flesh.

You would’ve been lost to the mental onslaught had it not been for Bakugou. His large, callused hand coming up to gently press your head against him, a sign of protection when he sensed your distraught nature, grounding you back to reality.

“The boss is gonna be disappointed if he finds out a stupid girl is what takes you down,” another voice says - it’s the amber eyed man.

“Tch. Fuck off Sako. I’m still your leader,” Dabi snaps, and you just hear Sako’s chuckles as the two walk away.

You and Bakugou relax for a moment, only to both freeze up when you hear Dabi’s voice again.

“Ugh, the lights are flickering again. Should we check the fuse box while we’re here?” Dabi asks, and your heart pounds.

The fuse box…was that the box that you saw earlier?! In the same room you were now!?

Your mind runs on autopilot as you start to hyperventilate slightly, Bakugou’s arms tightening around you as the footsteps get closer again.

Shit!

You grip your dagger tightly, fear pounding through your veins. Fighting Dabi last time was bad enough… Bakugou doesn’t even know what the man’s capable of.

Could you protect the both of you? You knew it was a stupid idea the moment in crossed your mind, one encounter with Dabi was devastating enough. What would you do now?

Suddenly, the amber-eyed man - Sako - speaks up, and everything in your mind goes silent.

“C’mon Lieutenant. We probably shouldn’t keep the boss waiting, we’re almost to the palace,” Sako says, and sighs. “Plus, the stupid lights will probably fix themselves. The Palanquin’s been through worse.”

You can practically envision the snowy haired man rolling his eyes, exhaling a sigh of his own and following Atsuhiro out of the hall.

You and Bakugou breathe out in relief, looking at each other in the dim light and make a silent agreement to not talk about the position the two of you were in, opening the door and checking the hallway to make sure the coast was clear.

It was empty, and yet, you still felt uneasy, bringing your index and thumb together.

“Why the fuck do ya keep doing that weird finger shit for, eh?” he mutters.

You pointedly decide to ignore him and instead looking in the direction you hear Dabi and Sako went down, nudging the blonde and motioning down the hallway.

“They said they were going to see their boss. So whoever we’re looking for must be in that direction too,” You murmur and Bakugou grunts in assent, surprising you to see him so complacent.

You try to breathe, but your fear still lays shrouded over you like icicles stabbing into your skin.

Dabi, Sako, Shuichi, the strange blonde, hell, maybe even Aoyama, alongside one of the greatest military minds in the world?

Could you and Bakugou really take on all of them, at once?

You swallow thickly, pressing the nail on your index finger so hard into the flesh of your thumb it might’ve drawn blood.

You steel yourself, mentally scolding yourself for thinking in such a manner. The battlefield was the last place where one should be wrecked by cowardice.

No.

You had to do this.

You were a warrior.

The narrow hallway eventually ends at a thick metal door, with no latch or lock, just a simple doorknob.

You lock eyes with Bakugou, silently adjusting your dagger in your hand and watch as he subtly nods his head, and with that, you open the door.

***

What.

The.

Fuck.

There, in the middle of an ornate room was an elaborate chair, and on it sat a man with no eyes, no nose, and no hair at all. All that was on his face was a sickening smile that grew wider upon noticing you. Around him were the men that infiltrated your village, along with a man with sky blue hair and a girl your age with an almost delirious smile on her face.

You stand still, eyes wide. Something was wrong, you were making a mistake.

“Ba-” you try to force out, sending a warning to your captain, but he doesn’t listen, lunging for the deformed man, only for the latter to hold out his hand. Bakugou’s form stops mere millimeters in front of the Inimican leader.

He was a matter manipulator - a Shigaraki.

Fuck.

And yet, you can’t bring your damn body to move, despite not being under control by the man before you.

He smiled, a grin stretched far too tight across his face - directed at you, and that’s when you realized he knew you’d be here.

“So, this is your little poppy, eh Touya?” the man chuckles, his voice deep and disgustingly soothing, like poison laced in honey.

Dabi flinches and you can’t help but feel intrigued. Was Dabi not his real name? You notice his jaw clench and he looks away.

The eyeless man sighs, returning his focus to you.

“Now Y/N, you - unlike this young man over here - knew better to stay put. And from what I hear, you’re quite the fighter too,” he says, and it disgusts you how warm and fatherly he sounded.

“How curious indeed, someone who's not only withstood countless fatal injuries, but a woman in the military, too. How ever did you manage to pull that off?” the man asks, sounding genuinely curious, like a child wondering how the world worked, treating you like something small and insignificant had managed something of note.

It was patronizing.

You stayed silent though, glaring at him, only faltering once you saw Bakugou’s still figure. Normally, you wouldn't have cared less, given the pain he put you through and how he treated you like nothing, but something told you he didn’t suffer from as big of an ego and superiority complex as you thought.

You sigh, cursing yourself and the blond man for breaking down your walls so easily.

“Let him go,” you mutter, deciding to direct your fury into the area where the man’s eyes would be.

He only smiles again, and sets his arm down to lay on the armrest of his chair.

Bakugou falls immediately, but regains his footing, letting out a loud roar and charging only for the man to hold up his hand in warning - not physically doing anything, but the threat was clear.

“Who…who are you…?” you ask warily, and all the eyes in the room turn to you.

“Call me…” he paused for a minute, before looking back at you with that eyeless stare.

“All for One.”

***

“Awww! Her reaction is so cute! Can I keep her?” the girl asks excitedly and All for One waves at her dismissively.

“Now, Himiko, where’s the fun in that? I’m curious as to what she’ll do personally,” he says, an unsettling eyeless gaze drilling holes into your soul. “Of course, I’m sure she’ll want to fight alongside her partner here - I suggest all of you leave the room.”

The people around All for One all clamor in protest, but they begrudgingly leave, save for one.

“Wait,” he calls out, his voice booming in the room. “Kurogiri, you stay.”

The man with the sky blue hair stops, silently turning around and returning to All for One’s side. The latter motions to you, but addresses the one next to him.

“Does she look familiar?” he asks, and you feel Kurogiri’s piercing gaze, along with Bakugou’s confused and suspicious one.

You only clench your dagger tighter, glaring at All for One and Kurogiri, deciding to speak up.

“I’ve never seen him in my life, so why don't you all ju-”

“She’s Aizawa’s daughter,” Kurogiri states blankly, and you still. “Isn’t she?”

Wh-who was this man? You flinch, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

As if reading your mind, All For One smiles, warm but condescending nonetheless.

“Y/N, this is Oboro Shirakumo.” he says, and your heart drops. “He’s also going to be the one to fight you.”

***

He's…what?! Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?!

You couldn’t. Killing the man whose ‘death’ wrecked your father for years… to fight him…would make you a monster.

Sensing your absolute horror, Bakugou speaks up.

“And why the fuck are we fightin' him? We should be fighting yer ass if anythin'.” Bakugou snaps.

All for One only chuckles. “Now, if you were to fight me, that wouldn’t be as fun, would it? Plus, it’d only be an easy victory for me. Instead you’ll fight him. If you win, I’ll surrender my troops and we return back to Inimicus. And if you don’t…well, you know what happens, poppy.”

You swallow thickly, experiencing unwanted deja vu. Dabi- Touya had made an almost identical offer to you., but you couldn’t back down now, it was too late.

You want to crawl out of your own skin, hide in an endless void, curl up into a ball and live the rest of your life without all the death and destruction around you, but you were so very painfully limited.

“Fine.”

He smiles wickedly, all the more confirmation that your fate was sealed.

***

“Now, one on two isn’t fair is it… how about I even out the playing field?” he asks, and even though the phrases it like a question, you knew you had no choice in the matter. You were just a fascinating puppet to him.

But that wasn’t the chilling part. It was who stepped into the room as soon as All for One spoke.

It was Genken.

***

All for One left as if he wasn’t there in the first place, the world around him warping until he wasn’t in the room, all in the matter of seconds.

Leaving only you, Oboro, Genken, and Bakugou.

Unsheathing his sword, Oboro looks at you impassively as if urging you to start.

But you don’t - frozen in shock for the fifth time that day (you weren’t sure, you’d lost count), instead, Bakugou does, lunging at the former officer with such intensity you see why they call him the War Dragon. Vermillion eyes narrowed in concentration as he takes on Genken furiously.

“I- FUCKIN' TRUSTED YA- PIECE OF SHIT!” He roars, rage overcoming his handsome features as he keeps slashing at the man you thought you could trust- only for the latter for dodge and parry with such expertise that you realize were traditional Belloran swordsman techniques.

The thought fills you with rage - he didn’t have the right.

***

“So, daughter of Aizawa. Let’s see if you live up to your name,” Oboro says, handing you a sword that you take numbly.

Fighting back the tears that threaten to spill, you finally snap back to reality, swallowing as your father’s best friend stands in front of you with no emotion in his eyes. He was nothing like the man you had heard about from Hizashi - warm, funny, energetic, and most of all, kind.

You swallow down the bile that threatens to rise in your throat. This wasn’t Oboro, this was Kurogiri. He’s not the man he was before.

You steady yourself, gripping your dagger tightly.

“Bring it on.”

Both of you run at each with incredible speed, minds operating the same way, anticipating moves before they were made, and zeroing in on possible openings. In a way, it was like you were fighting yourself.

Staring intently into his blue eyes, it almost hurts how painfully empty they are, how they were soulless, empty, devoid of any emotion.

Your brief moment of hesitation was your downfall.

Kurogiri hooks his foot behind yours, forcing you to fall on your back and effectively knocking the breath out of you.

Shit.

You close your eyes, holding your breath as the cold sting of metal finds its way underneath your chin.

Were you finally going to die?

Tears finally spill from your eyelids, wishing you could’ve seen your family one last time.

“You…,” he breathes, blue eyes drilling into you. “Are so much like your father.”

That catches you off guard. But what shocks you even more is when his hardened gaze softens the smallest bit when he finally takes you in. And then the tears start to fall.

“Shit…,” he curses under his breath and when he looks at you in your eyes, they’re full of pain, pleading almost.

“Kill me," he whispers. Your heart drops - he was asking you to end his life.

No, no, maybe you could do something maybe-

Suddenly, Oboro’s eyes widen as his fingers trail down to his side, his hand covered in sticky blood.

Wait- but you didn't-!

Then his eyes close, and he rolls off of you, collapsing onto the floor, a wry smile forming on his lips.

“Tell…tell Shota I say hi,” he whispers weakly, one last tear slipping down his face before his chest stops heavy, his breaths slowing down until there were none left.

He was dead.

“No no no, shit! Oboro, please, you can’t die like this, my dad, he-” you choke out, scrambling to his side, wincing as your own injuries prevent you from moving as quickly as you’d like.

“Weak,” you hear, turning around, and remembering he was there, too.

Genken.

Bakugou’s bleeding severely, and he looks like he’s about to pass out. Genken, however, looked completely unscathed, and the sight was unnerving.

“Why..?” you croak out, throat dry from the tension and tears. “My dad…how could you-”

Genken barks out a humorless laugh, his once comforting and kind eyes now spiteful.

“Shota?! Do you seriously think I’d care about him? What he’s been through is nothing compared to what I’ve had to endure.”

You want to throttle him, anger bubbling up inside of you, but you had to stay calm. Bakugou was in a terrible condition, and so were you. You suspected Genken was more than he was letting on.

"Your wife- your son, Daki-!" you choke out.

“My wife died 10 years ago giving birth to my son. The doctors gave my son cheap treatment and he died of illness the next day. Your father-” Genken stops momentarily, and you see the tears forming in his eyes. “Doesn’t fucking know what I’ve had to go through.”

You stare at him, conflicted. Swallowing thickly, you look at him in his eyes.

“You are not a mourning father,” you snap, voice shaking as you feel your own rush of emotions. “You are a monster.”

Your legs move on their own, after staying frozen for so long, finally knowing what to do.

Genken brandishes his sword, expecting you to fight with your blade but you instead swing your upper arm across your body, pushing his neck down while using your foot to kick the back of his kneecaps, pushing him to the floor just as his sword slices at your side.

You cry out in pain, but hold him firmly, just as Bakugou roars with a final burst of energy, plunging his sword into the crazed man’s heart.

It was over.

Except, tonight, the gods decided to be cruel to you.

The split second after Genken was defeated, your body erupted in pain- as if white hot fire was searing your skin, and you release a soundless scream in agony, your heartbeat rapid and your breathing ragged.

Shit shit shit shit.

The liquid in the vial’s effects had worn out.

Shit.

All you remember is Bakugou’s faint voice, yelling your name.

***

Your head feels like cotton. Again. Third time’s a charm, right? You snort mentally at your own joke.

Your body feels numb, and you feel the pulse of your heartbeat in your temples.

“Ugh…,” you groan, sleepily blinking open your eyes. There, standing at your side, was everyone - Eri, Hitoshi, your father, Kirishima, Denki, Hanta, Chiyo, Izuku and his mother, Ochako, even Toshinori.

But the one person that you noticed first was Bakugou, sitting in a chair next to your bed and eye bags underneath his vermillion irises. He wore a number of bandages, just like you did, and looked just as drained, and yet, he was here.

With you.

You shoved down the butterflies that fluttered in your chest and instead sent a tired grin to your family and friends.

It was finally over.

· · ─────── · ᴛᴡᴏ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ · ─────── · ·

The parades in Bellorant were non-stop, night and day, throughout the capital.

Bakugou would be spotlighted during the occasion, and though he wasn’t happy about it, he ended up receiving all the credit considering a major issue would arise if the public knew that a female was in the ranks.

It was stupid, you knew, considering they were more upset about a woman than a literal traitor. It didn't anger you as much as it should have, though.

As long as your loved ones were safe.

You found out that you had gone into shock from the pain when the effects of the vial wore out in The Palanquin, leaving Bakugou to carry you out in his arms, threatening to kill anyone who got in his way as he rushed to his parent’s home within the capital where his father treated you.

The blonde had alerted your family, and thanks to Kirishima, all your friends had come too.

Everything felt so surreal, now that it was over. You stopped a war, after all. And it was strange, being surrounded by peaceful quiet instead of deafening bloodshed.

It didn’t stop the nightmares though.

PTSD, it was called, when someone received severe mental trauma from certain events. Symptoms varied between different people, but for you, it was through extreme paranoia and nightmares.

They’d be a part of you, no matter what, everything that had happened. It was life changing and not something you could forget, even if you wanted to.

Tonight, however, was especially bad, waking up in a cold sweat and heart pounding from a dream you don’t even remember. But you were too on edge to go back to sleep. You slip out of the house and down to a lake nearby.

It was quiet, but not silent, the soothing sounds of crickets and the small sloshes of water put your mind to ease, letting yourself close your eyes and soothed by the sounds of nature.

“Hey,” a gruff voice breaks you out of your reverie, and you look up to see those same pair of vermillion eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere now.

“M’sorry.”

“Thank you.”

You both say at the same time, catching each other off guard and you let out a small laugh, and Bakugou’s eyes soften just the smallest fraction.

“You go first,” he says, sitting down on the cool grass beside you.

“What I meant to say was…thanks. For everything. For saving me, and helping me get better. I lied to you and betrayed your trust, I undermined your authority, and you still saved my life, I just…,” you trail off becoming self conscious as you ramble. “Don’t know how to repay you.”

Bakugou clicks his teeth, looking out at the water before speaking, his voice low, but you hear it, clear as a bell.

“Ya shouldn’t be thankin me,” he admits, anxiously pulling out blades of grass underneath him. “I…was wrong. I was selfish and stupid- yer fuckin' strong I just-” he stops, trying to find the right words to say. “Didn’t know how to react.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. I forgive you. I’m not exactly the easiest person to get along with.”

Bakugou snorts and gives you a wolfish smile. “Tch, ya don’t take shit and I respect that. M’glad yer not a fuckin' pushover or somethin', always catering to my every whim. Those people are pathetic.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That reminds me, shouldn’t you be at the parade right now?” you ask quizzically, wondering how he managed to slip away from such a big event.

He rolls his eyes. “M’not takin credit for shit I didn’t do. All I needed to do was show my face.”

You giggle slightly at that, enjoying the sentiment before laying down on the grass, reveling in its nice contrast to the warm summer air.

You sit there in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the peaceful scenery of the lake- but then Bakugou speaks up.

“Y/N,” he says, unsure of how to phrase his question.

“Hm?” you hum, turning your gaze to him.

“Ya said, back on The Palanquin, that ya had almost died twice. I know…I know ya almost died saving me, but what was the second?” he asks quietly, a huge contrast to his brash demeanor. He was subdued, just like he had been at the end of your tualia.

You stay silent for a moment, carefully picking out the right words to say.

“I…” you trail off, taking in a deep breath. Talking or even thinking about Dabi terrified you, but you knew you couldn’t keep it in forever.

And so you told Bakugou everything.

When you finish, you have tears in your eyes, and a heavy pit in your stomach.

Bakugou looks at you, eyes wide and eyebrows creased. “So that’s why All for One seemed so familiar with ya.” he murmurs and he reaches out to squeeze your shoulder in comfort.

“Y’know…when I carried ya back to my parents' house, you were talking,” he says, grimacing as if he didn’t want to acknowledge the memory, casting his gaze back out to the lake.

“W-Was I…?” you ask warily, hoping you didn’t say anything incriminating in your pain-induced delirious state.

“Ya asked me to let ya die.” he says grimly, and ya notice the muscles in his jaw clench. “I-It was pretty fuckin' terrifyin’.” He chuckles sourly, and returns his gaze to you.

“I…I know war is scary. It scars ya in ways ya never realized it could and it makes ya question yer morals, yer ideals. Ya feel like ya don’t know yerself anymore,” he says and you stare at the grass, finding it scary how much the words resonated with you.

“What ya went through, though, I don’t think even General Takami’s been through that shit,” he says, and he stops when you notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey…shit, m’ sorry I didn’t mean t-” he starts, but he stops when he sees your watery smile.

“Thank you, Bakugou.” you say. “For being here.”

The blonde flushes, and turns to look at the lake again so that you don’t see his expression, but you notice the tips of his ears turn red.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says gruffly, almost silent, but you hear it.

“Huh?” you ask, confused.

“Call me Katsuki,” he says again, almost insistently, turning even redder.

Cute.

You lean over, and press a small kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you… Katsuki.”

Bakugou turns to look back at you, eyes wide but soft. He snorts and wipes away a stray tear that falls down his cheek.

“Yer too forgivin, ya know that?” he says, and you squeeze his hand, a blush of your own dusting your cheeks.

He brings up a callused hand to your jawline, turning your face slowly to him, and drawing you closer.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and for a moment you see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe, and he closes the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours tenderly, kissing you like he’ll never be able to again.

This was nice, you thought, sitting here by the lake with Katsuki.

Maybe you'd get your shot at happiness after all.

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

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@geniejunn

A/N: Guys…it’s over… Holy shit it’s over 😭😭 I seriously can’t thank you all enough for all the support I got for Warrior- thank you all for sticking around 🙏🙏 This has definitely been an emotional roller coaster and I’m so glad I managed to bring this story full circle 🤍 Extra big thanks to @cashmoneyyysstuff for reading the entire series before posting <3 It’s been an honor to have you read this Elle 😭🥰 Shoutout to @peachsukii as well for checking this last chapter :)

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chosclub · 7 months

Text

After Last Night, 𝟏

PAIRING — choso ° f!reader GENRE — one night stand au!smut WORD COUNT — 6.1k (side eye) WARNINGS — cunnilingus (f!reader receiving) º penetration º 18+ smut! CONSPECTUS — After spending too long mulling over a breakup, you decide to join your friends to the bar they frequent, hoping for a new beginning and the guitar-playing, angel-voiced singer looks like a good contender. PARTS º 𝟷 º 𝟸 (coming soon)

A/N: If you were thinking to yourself:

"Damn, I wish I had a soundtrack-like playlist to listen to as I read",

We might intergalactically connected

It’s right here

Listen in order (obviously)

☆

According to the multiverse theory, there are infinite amounts of you, they all diverge upon different branches made up of decisions and indecisions. But out of infinity, there exist two current versions of you that are living simultaneously at almost midnight. One is curled up in bed, luminated only by your lamp, blurry light like a warm blanket as you scroll on your phone, eyes brimming with exhaustion. The other is squished between dancing, drunk bodies, in a dress slowly riding up your thighs, sticky, sweaty and exhausted. If your fate lay in your hands like a magic orb, every decision only decided by you, the beholder, you’d pick the first reality; To be half-asleep, in bed, alone but in good company. However, it’s been months since you got dumped and–

“I just thought to myself, fuck it yanno? Life’s too short to care about some man!” You shout over the blaring music to Maki, who seems to be completely in her own world, eyes shut, face jungled by her hair as her head sways side to side.

“Yeah! Fuck men!” To your surprise she shouts back, reaching out her drink to clash against yours and chug in solidarity. A cacophony of voices from your friends join in, shouting the same. Can’t count how many of these moments have happened up to this point, some with complete strangers, most with the girls who dragged you out in the first place. The burning that initially rested in the back of your throat is no longer there, replaced by the insatiable desire for more – more drinks, more dancing, louder music, more excitement – fast forwarding through a movie and trying to fit in as much as possible.

This rush of adrenaline has taken over you like a quenched beast, thirsty for more energy in any form it can latch on to, you decide to take a lesson from Maki’s book, closing your eyes, trying to absorb the music into your fingertips and arteries. Granted it’s been…a while since you’ve gotten to have a night like this, relationships sneakily take it out of you, it’s apparent your tolerance has depleted and the expectations for a Friday-night-out for everyone is your wannabe-alcohol-blackout-bender.

The bar your friends frequent is a small one but always lively, the building feels like it’s going to spill over with the amount of people that fill up the dance floor, the bar, the patio. Moreover, Nobara offhandedly mentioned a hottie (her words) that plays with his band every weekend.

There’s a newfound feeling, a thought that screams within you to disregard the fear of what could happen next — you have no one to answer to, no man in the corner telling you your dress is too short, no policing on what fun you could have. It’s an epiphany, only amplified by the alcohol that takes over your whole body, swaying your hips more deliberately, leaning comfortably into the air, lifting you and everyone else up until the entire dance floor floats.

In an instant, the bubble is poked, atoms popped and disintegrated into the air; you have the ball and a football player just hungrily tackled you for it. Except you’re at a bar and a tall shadow of a being just bumped into your shoulder with a rushed force like you were the gate blocking his way through.

His hands hover over your shoulders as he floats through behind your back. “Shit! I'm so sorry!” He’s stopped to, presumably, only check if your brain is still intact inside your skull before he sets to rush through the rest of the crowd. The linger feels like an eternity to you, two paradoxes standing still among the dancing crowd that elevates around them. He’s almost made it to the stage when you come back down to Earth, leaving you standing still, without words. Another you would’ve cussed him out, grabbed him by the collar of his white shirt and brought him close to your nose to spill threats straight into his nostrils, this you only stares as he maneuvers from behind everyone, spilling an occasional excuse me you can only decipher from the movement of his lips.

You watch as he props his foot onto the edge of the stage, a leap he climbs over with ease. He props his guitar over his shoulder, resting his hand on the strings. He stands over the crowd like a giant, the murky clouds drifting at his shoulders, he stares intently down at the people that seldom notice his band’s presence, sans one. The lights are dancing along his frame, pink purple blues illuminating his visage. His hair is split in two spiky buns, only a few strands that frame his face, his eyes dark with seriousness, a stripe the color of his eyes tattooed across his nose.

The music drifts, dragging a series of groans, cheers, boos with it as he enters the indigo lights.

He stands alone, adjusting his guitar and stepping closer to the mic. The lights dim a cool blue, leaving him as the center of attention, the focus.

He steps on one of the pedals by his feet and begins to play a riff on his guitar. It’s a slow intro, already having captivated the audience, who have begun swaying to the entrancing melody.

He’s closed his eyes at this point, dipping his head down causing the loose strands to stand still on the tip of his nose and cheeks. His chest rises slowly in preparation, he leans closer to the mic, lips just grazing the metal grid of the mic head. He joins the melody and God, his voice is fucking angelic. He’s entered his own world now, paying no mind to the captivated crowd at his feet. His voice is raspy but strong, he’s singing as if the next verse is his last, the grate of his throat transforming the cringy 90s song he covers into an emotional ballad. You remember the melody, blasting from your older brother’s CD player, chorus bleeding from his room into yours until you banged a fist against the shared wall, signal for him to turn the volume down.

Your friends emerge from the rest of the crowd behind you to join the statue they left behind, watching, gazing at the dark-haired, angel-voiced performer.

“No fucking way, is this Boyz II Men?” Nobara calls, propping her elbow on your shoulder like a pigeon landing on a limestone sculpture.

“Yeah,” is the only word you can muster.

She nods, “I’m into it.” The rest of you nod in unison like ogling robots, all at the command of the singer. Everything else sounded blurry, except for his voice. He’s reached the chorus, belting the notes, occasionally letting the audience peak at his irises, flooded in the iridescent indigo light.

“I used to hate this song but–” A sentence left unfinished, floating with the air particles because whatever you say is no match for his melody and the way it has enchanted the crowd.

The song concludes, the crowd enveloping him in cheers as his other band mates emerge from the crowd, picking up their respective instruments and talking amongst one another. Maybe it is the wow-factor of the band or maybe they are from outer space but you notice their uniquely styled hair; The bassist looks like a sea urchin, hairspray-locked spikes peeking out from his head of hair, the one with a mint-green detailed guitar next to him, pastel pink hair washed out by the dazzling white spotlight. The main act, the lead, listening to the two conclude a quick soundcheck, two buns lazily hanging on his head, the strands of hair slowly being picked up by the soft breeze of the ceiling fans and being dropped back on his forehead.

The bassist begins striking a weighty, groovy riff and like a stack of dominoes, the background track and the guitarist follow lead. The pink haired boy inches his foot to his pedal board, tapping one slightly and his guitar begins to sound gritty; It’s a beat you can’t help but bop your head to. The lead singer’s voice has also taken a new approach from the ballad-singing, emotional sound before. This time, he’s closer to the mic, head dipping down so his irises glare forward and his voice swings in a way you’ve never heard before, left fingers carefully changing chords. His confidence and slight smirk drive a stake through your chest, heart pumping blood to get any other body part other than your head to move. His ability to soften his voice in falsetto for the pre-chorus leaves you captivated because holy shit he’s good. And holy shit are the three of them coordinated.

The pink haired guitarist quickly taps a different pedal on his board, the bassist immediately playing a different riff, one heavier, more viscous. The slow riffs from the mint-green guitar send the crowd slowly swinging, bopping their heads. The singer adapts as well, grabbing the mic stand with one hand; You can’t tell if the wavelengths traveling from the bass guitar to you are affecting gravity itself, if the three of them smoothly transitioning to the slower part of the song, or if standing for so long has made you light-headed, but you’d bet the triple digits in your savings account that the raven haired, two spike buns singer glanced into your eyes.

You exhale at the slight exchange, two stars orbiting a galaxy and only for a nanosecond meeting at a conjunction; When you blink, his eyes are closed as the other two band members begin singing the background vocals, leaving the lead to show off more of his falsetto.

—☆

The alcohol that was streaming through your veins has died down, only leaving behind heavy eyelids and a fuzzy view of everyone dancing. You and your friends linger around the bar, your elbow propped up on the wood, your only crutch to stay awake. The people have begun to fizzle out, the band playing earlier taking a break, the speakers booming with 2010s R&B.

You wish you would’ve seen him approaching, like an entity identifiable by their silhouette, the shadow growing bigger and bigger behind you.

“Hi,” he begins and before you can turn around to acknowledge the greeting, he continues, “I’m really sorry about bumping into you earlier.”

It is then you turn your head from the rest of the conversation, catching a glimpse of the girls as they stare as if they’ve seen a being and are too scared to tell you that it’s about to devour you first.

Now that he’s closer, he’s taller.

“It’s fine,” you shrug, smiling, “I mean surely you could’ve navigated a crowded venue better but who’s to say?”

He has the same gaze from earlier, iridescent eyes unafraid to maintain eye-contact. He smiles and purses his lips to the side as a terrible cover up for his smirk.

“Settle it with me and let me buy you a drink then.”

You try to play it cool, but you’ve already used up all the shrugs and he’s already leaned his elbow against the bar, cocking his head to the side; He’s made himself comfortable because he already knows the answer. The other girls have already left, you see Nobara’s amber hair from your peripheral standing outside with Maki and Mai.

All the confidence and allure you can convey to him, trying your hardest to mirror him – “Sure.”

He turns to face the drinks, the only time you can look at him meticulously without him noticing. You stare at the tendons on his neck, his white shirt that hangs loosely on his form as he leans closer to the bar to get a bartender’s attention. Your gaze makes its way down, defined muscles outlining the shape of his arm, he rests his left on the bar and his right he holds by his face, a soft wave to catch the eye of the bartender who has his back turned to the both of you. You don’t dare look down further. He turns his head to you just in time before your eyes can make it past his waistline.

You blink at the bartender who stares expectantly back at you – An unsuspecting passer-by that watched you gawk at the spiked-bun singer.

“A vodka cranberry, please,” 80% cranberry, you wish to add because you want to spare tomorrow-you the turmoil, she’s dealing with enough from the sleep-deprivation as it is. The bartender glances back at him, asking if he’s starting a tab or closing it off. He drives the inside of his cheek between his teeth before requesting to close it.

Once the bartender has turned, tending to more drinks and drunken orders, the raven haired boy turns to you, leaning temple against his palm.

“I love your drink of choice –” He tips his head forward slightly, pausing for you to fill in the blank.

“____”

“I love your drink of choice, ____”

“What did you get?” You pause as well, waiting for him to give a part of himself, an equal trade so that even if every memory from tonight diminishes tomorrow, each other’s names will remain.

“Choso,” He reaches the arm he was balancing his temple on to shake your hand, you giggle at the sudden formality and he smiles expectantly, like he knew that’s the reaction the gesture would ensue, “A whiskey neat.”

“Oh, simple, I like it.”

The bartender comes back with the two drinks, one a radiant rouge, the other a brooding umber. He leaves the checkbook for Choso to fill out and departs once again.

You take a sip of your drink, the bitter taste of vodka hitting your bottom lip; As if by telekinesis, the bartender had taken the ratio you thought of and flipped completely.

You exhale a biting breath. “Damn, that’s so strong.”

“You don’t like it?” Choso looks at you as he takes a sip of his drink, lips tipping the edge of the glass back. You can’t help but stare, wishing you were the drink. He swallows a sip back without even wincing.

“Not how I’d make it, I guess.”

He raises his brows, “You bartend?”

“Yeah, a few blocks down.” You nod, “I guess on my days off, I come to spend money here instead of getting the drinks for free at my own workplace.”

He smiles, “Makes me feel fateful you chose tonight to blow your money on a 200% markup.”

You shrug, “of course, anytime.”

— ☆

The cold fall air is nipping so late at night, you try your best not to stumble over the cobble, shamelessly hanging on to Choso’s arm as he tries not to stumble over you dragging his body down. It’s nearing 1 a.m. and the music booming from the bar suddenly turns off, drunken bodies shuffling out and trying to figure out where to venture to next.

“Who lives closer?” You suggest. You glance up, expectant, and although you reach his shoulder, it still feels like Choso towers over you. He turns his head slightly towards you, but the eyes are what lock in with yours, waterlines lifting as he smirks.

“What’re you trying to whore me out? We just met!” He exclaims. Panic almost rushes to your chest before he quickly chuckles, “Fuck dude, I’m totally kidding, I’m sorry. My apartment’s nearby if you’re willing to walk a bit.”

You exhale, nodding because he seized all your words from you.

The night envelops you both in her dark embrace, mid-October wind pulling your coat back as you use your hand to cover any part of your face you can keep warm. You and Choso try not to stumble and you try not to turn and look at him as he walks, his eyes focused straight ahead, jaw lightly clenched trying to bear against the wind. His hair flowing behind him exposes part of his face you hadn’t seen yet, soft pale skin, he looks different, his tattoo more in view despite the color of it partly blending with the night sky.

His apartment is a few blocks away from the bar, a duplex he says he shares with his bandmates, Yuji and Megumi. The road is quiet, streets lined with cars and the glowing of streetlights is the only warmth you two can seek out in the cold. From the outside, the duplex is brick-lined, bay-windows on the first floor that overlook the street; You can see a warm light radiating from a lamp left on inside.

You reach the top of the steps, Choso unhooking his arm from your hold and fishing through his jacket. The keys jingle as he inserts one and opens the door, allowing you to enter first into the warmth. The living room is eccentric, a long lamp reaching over the couch, orbs that illuminate the room hanging from the metal. The couch is caramel colored leather, lined with pillows on each side, matching the side chair and the walnut wood of the table. A fireplace faces the couch and everywhere, everywhere, on the floor, on the bookshelves, propped against the coffee table, are vinyl records, they line the player, they cover the table.

“Wow,” You exhale a breath, face vibrating with warmth, “this is an insanely nice place.”

“I know, right? We’ve been renting it for a while, got extremely lucky.” Choso floats in behind, hanging his jacket on the coat hanger and heads for the kitchen. “You want anything?”

You turn to face him and the kitchen, a large bar counter lined with stools and next to it, a dining table. These guys really like lamps, you think to yourself, eyes glancing at a small lamp on the corner of the counter. “Water, please.”

Choso nods and you both turn in sync, him towards the cabinets and you to your left to look at the bar cart that’s placed in between the living room and the walkway to the kitchen. You gander at the alcohol, accessories, and the fancy, when-the-guests-are-here glasses. When Choso approaches from around the counter, he asks, “just water?”

“My liver’s going to give out by tomorrow,” you cringe at the thought, tomorrow-you hungover, tired, and miserable. “But you do have all the ingredients for a mojito, and it is one of my favorite drinks.”

“Can I watch you make it?” You look at him and there it is again; his intense gaze, looking straight at you as if there was nothing else in the world that could keep you out of his sight. All you can do is nod.

You grab the muddler, container of mint leaves, and rum; Choso reaches from behind you to grab the syrup and you both set the ingredients on the counter. He opens the fridge, grabbing ice and a container of cut strawberries.

“Could these work?” He holds the container up.

You shrug, “haven’t tried that before.”

You add the leaves to a tall glass as he grabs a cutting board and begins to cube the strawberries. You’re side by side working in sync but you can’t help but glance at the way his veins protrude from his forearm even when he’s relaxed, how muscular his arms look, the overhead lighting shading in the valleys of his forearm, making the muscle bulge in the light. Your chest tightens watching him glide the knife across the stem of a strawberry, angling the knife to cut the fruit into smaller pieces. Unlike him, you’ve been enjoying the secret glances you get at him rather than the blazing eye-contact. It’s a game you’re unsure he would participate in, an act you don’t want him to catch you in, a secret between you and yourself; In this moment the only person that gets to secretly admire the valleys of his muscles is you.

Frankly, staring at Choso had already built up a demand of sexual frustration that you are taking out on the mint, extracting every last drop that you don’t notice when he slides the cutting board full of glistening, cubed strawberries towards you. You hope he doesn’t notice how much you’re torturing the mint, the creased leaves sticking to the glass. But you also hope he does.

He announces he’ll be back, departing from the counter and disappearing to the living room. You don’t want to turn back to follow him with your eyes, the desire bubbling inside you like a geyser. Instead, you can hear him shuffling, stop, then hear a record crackle as he lowers the needle.

He’s back at your side, watching you intently split the batch of strawberries in two, adding them to their respective glasses, and smashing them as well. You can feel his quiet stare on your shoulder as the record begins to play. You almost laugh when the music floods the room; He’s queued slow songs, full of bass that have your body vibrating trying not to bop your head or move your body. The room is filled with honey, it radiates from the soft yellow lighting, it flows from the record player and sticks to every corner and has begun flooding to the ceiling until everything is tinted yellow.

After adding ice, you reach for the double-sided jigger he pulled from one of the drawers, measuring the simple syrup on one side, pouring into the glass, and rum on the other side.

“Oh, fuck, almost forgot,” he states, startling you in your state of thought about his body. He opens the fridge again, grabbing a lime and a half-consumed bottle of club soda. He slices the lime between his hands, handing one half to you to squeeze the juice out of. Your knuckles turn white at the intensity of the squeeze, all the frustration from his gaze, his confidence, his voice, traveling to your forearm. He hands you the other half for the second glass and then the chilled soda. After pouring, you give both the glasses a stir, sliding one towards him.

He doesn’t waste time tipping the glass back and taking a sip. You have to divert your eyes to the dishwasher to not stare at the way his collar bones come into view and the way the tendons on his neck project.

He exhales a quiet breath. “____, this is so fucking good,” he says, making your eyes switch back to him as the edge of your glass is steady on your lip, not quite ready to tip over. “I saw you pour in the rum but I can barely taste it.” Dangerous, he adds, grinning. God he’s almost making your eyelid twitch.

You finally swallow back a sip.

“I’m glad you like it.” You smile, amidst the warmth, the music, the soft lightening, his compliment striked out, making your cheeks warm; You have to look down out of even more embarrassment that he noticed a compliment so simple made you blush.

Maybe the pent up nervousness has affected your depth perception because when you look back up, you swear he’s hovered closer. He holds the glass to his lips again, slowly indulging another gulp and staring directly into your retinas. His gaze is so fierce you can’t help but stare right back; His tattoo is in full view when he sets the glass back down, empty, the well of it rouge with strawberry nectar. The music that’s continued to play isn’t helping either, the way he has his arm extended on the counter, biceps stretched, isn’t helping at all. The record spins. The song that plays intros with a guitar solo which leads you back to him, thinking of his fingers strumming each individual string under the iridescent lights.

There’s a soft crackle as the record halts. It catches you off guard, eyes deflecting as you watch the needle automatically lift and levitate back to its place.

From your peripheral, Choso hangs his head down before sliding his hand off the counter and turning to flip the record over. You chug back the rest of your drink quickly, head dipping forward again to admire his back and the way his white shirt hangs from his shoulders to his waist. You watch him take each side of the record in his palms and give it a flip. Then pick the needle between his fingers and hover it over the record. Then pause. Then turn. Then all of the sudden, he’s walking at a quicker pace, wider strides, back to you. You catch a last glimpse of his dark irises before he’s grabbed the side of your face and enveloped your lips in his. His lips are soft, cold from the ice, bitter from the alcohol, but tender nonetheless. His right hand travels underneath your coat to your hip, pulling your body forward by the flesh. He lightly sucks on your bottom lip before pulling away. Eyes blown out like supernovas, breathless, he says,

“I had to kiss you,” the words spill from his lips in a rush like he was going to die if he didn’t get to taste your lips.

You’re still both attached at the hip, a branch splitting in two, his breath reaching the tip of your nose, his eyes gazing into yours in expectancy. You lean forward once more and take his lips in yours again – If the universe were to collapse in on itself, what a way to go making out with Choso. This time, he kisses with fervor. His hand leaves your cheek to slide to the back of your neck and gently tangle his fingers in a handful of your hair. His tongue prods at your lips, pushing against the flesh to meet yours. The sensation of his tongue simultaneous with the way he drives your lip between his teeth has you letting out a whine into his mouth. At this, Choso’s nails dig into the flesh of your hip.

Fuck, he softly groans, beginning to walk backwards and dragging you with him – you willingly follow like he’s holding you by the leash. You can’t let go of his lips the same way he can’t let go of his hands from your body; The feeling of him so close has sparked the fuse that’s slowly begun to inch closer and closer to the dynamite. The way he holds you steadily as you almost trip over his feet fills your chest with warmth, filling every crevice with color and making you lightheaded. You’ve wandered into a bedroom, his, unable to let go of each other and almost tumble in front of the bed. You slip your shoes off using your opposite ankle, detaching your lips from Choso’s to take a breath. He’s breathing loudly, his chest rising with every inhale, the hair on top of his head inflating and deflating when he exhales.

“Kiss me again,” he breathes, waiting. And you do. He’s kissing you passionately, jaw wider, unafraid. His tongue slides on yours in passing as he slips his on the soft and slick side of your bottom lip. Your hands begin to stray over each other’s bodies and he pulls you close again. The tip of his hardening cock prods your groin shamelessly. He spins you both, your back now facing the bed; He lets his hands wander down from your neck to the zipper of your dress, dragging the fastener down the metal teeth agonizingly slow. Your dress loosens when the zipper reaches the end and he slides the fabric from your shoulders. You’re standing before him, almost naked, vulnerable. He’s staring and you have to look away, knowing the heat that flows through your temples isn’t because of the mojito. He backs you slowly onto the mattress, the lamp on the bedside table is a low light, the equivalent of a candle or the shade of moonlight when it’s a full moon, enough to keep the shadows of your bodies hidden but enough to appreciate what you can see and feel of Choso. With your distraction of the amount of lighting in the room, Choso has already lifted his shirt from his shoulders and hovers over you. His pale torso is wide, you can see the scales of his side abs, the shadows of his abdomen contrasted by the light. His right bicep is by your ear now and he leans down to meet your lips again.

Your hands reach the stretch of his sweatpants, sliding your thumbs underneath the band and the rest of your fingers slide the pants down his thighs, he has to wiggle his leg to toss the fabric on the floor, making you laugh. He smiles.

Choso brings his chest close to yours, reaching his hands underneath your back to unclasp your bra. It feels freeing when he takes the garment and tosses it to the side of you and begins to pepper kisses onto your neck. You’ve both fully committed now, there was no room for pointless mind reading; When he reaches your collarbone and sucks on the skin, you think you’d be stupid not to understand his feelings. He’s wandering down further, confident as he delves deeper into the anatomy of your body. He kisses the valley between your breasts, settling on a particular spot to leave a deep purple mark. He takes one of your tits in his mouth, licking the soft and sensitive skin around the nipple and suckling on the bud. The feeling leaves you whimpering, taking a handful of his hair and pushing him closer to your skin, trying to burrow him inside you forever.

He doesn’t succumb to your pressure, traveling down the valley of your stomach to your underwear, he slides his palms up your thighs and slides the panties off. Without wasting any time, his mouth is on your core, licking whatever nectar has begun to seep out. A hot summer’s day and he divulges on an overripe apricot, sinking his tongue against the slit, sucking every drop of the juice out. You moan, the wonderful feeling is heat to your core, you can feel his cock harden against the flesh of your thigh. Yet, he keeps going, grabbing your leg to make sure it stays open for him. A part of you wonders if he’s even breathing, his mouth busy on the flesh of your cunt and his nose reaching your clit, you wonder if he’s too focused on your pleasure to breathe. His tongue peeks inside your walls, then retrieving to lick up your slit and repeating. You’re on the cusp of an orgasm, muscles clenching, when he takes his middle finger, sliding it in the soft flesh. His hands are cold, they cool you down like melting ice cubes when he touches you. The feeling of his tongue and finger is overwhelming but you don’t want it to cease. You feel an orgasm coming on, afraid if he adds another digit, you’ll combust like the death of a thousand stars. He looks up the hill of your body, watching the tendons on your neck stretch as you lean your head back against the covers, your stomach heaving up and down. Without a sense of control, he moans into you watching you relish every moment. He slips a second finger, a silence in the room between your soft whimpers all you can hear is a gush. He picks up his pace slightly, leaving you melting into the bed. Breathless and whimpering, your orgasm flows through you like thrashing waves kissing the shore.

Every muscle in your body contracts and relaxes, you feel Choso plant soft kisses on your inner thighs. His lips are soft, relaxing you and bringing you back down to Earth. He floats back up to you, looking into your eyes, you can barely open them to look at him properly. He hovers over your lips, kissing them, softly sliding his tongue to yours, you can feel the moisture on his chin and practically taste yourself on his lips.

You’re eager to continue, relish in his pleasure like he relished in yours. You don’t want the night to end, to conjunct at one point and diverge from each other forever. You’re trying to signal to Choso that you can continue, trying to kiss him harder, tougher. You reach your hand down to his briefs, the soft fabric slightly wet with pre-cum. He smiles into your teeth in response,

“You want to keep going?” He asks. You nod, licking his bottom lip. He begins to lift himself off of you, leaning over to his bedside to try and scavenge a box of condoms.

You reach for his shoulder, “I got an implant,” smiling almost encouragingly. He laughs, it’s short but it sounds heavenly, a complete contrast from the brazen persona you’ve gotten to know tonight. He slides his briefs down his legs. He leans closer to the side of your head, driving your earlobe between his teeth. You take his divergence from your face to grab a hold of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

The feeling of your orgasm is still remnant, overwhelming as Choso’s dick fills your walls but your desire to continue overrides any discomfort you have. He groans softly against the nape of your neck, dragging his hand to your hair and gently grasping a handful. You feel so good, he whines, his whimper a low and deep moan, sexy, leading you to close your eyes and drive your hips further against his.

With each thrust, the movement between his push and yours makes a slush sound, sap spilling against him, it’s almost embarrassing, almost, because you swear it makes Choso’s cock even harder in you.

Choso fucks you slow but hard. Venus observa. He feels so captured by your cunt, that he’s lost all other motor functions, his lips lazily and sloppily kiss and lick your neck, your face, your ear, he’s lost complete control, shamelessly groaning against your cheek. The sounds that come out of his throat only drive you closer and closer to your release. You whine and moan against his ear, his cock burrowed in you in perfect fit, your hands stray to his shoulders, then back, digging your nails in as he drives into you deeper. He reaches one of his hands down your stomach, pressing a finger against your clit and stimulating the area in rhythm with his thrusts. You clench your muscles against him in preparation for your orgasm, Fuck, he draws out the word, groaning at the feeling of your folds tightening against his dick. You orgasm almost simultaneously, you first, arching against him and yelping an ah! at the intensity. The air is popping like bright stars, you salivate at the feeling of spilling on his cock. Choso follows you, coming in you, adding to the complete mess he’s made.

He stays on top of you, his skin warm against yours, until you feel him inhale and slide off your stomach. You open your eyes, retinas embracing the warm light; when you turn to face Choso, his eyes are closed, the light pours on him like golden nectar.

“Don’t worry, I’m not asleep,” he smiles, breathing slowly and softly. You think for a moment, eyes drifting to his torso, tattoos etched at his ribcage and abs.

“When’s the last time you had sex before this?”

He scrunches his nose, trying hard not to laugh. “Actually, I am asleep.”

You chuckle breathlessly, “I’m only wondering, I promise. It’s been six months for me.”

“Ooh, close enough. Almost a year.”

Your eyes widen slightly, trying to remain inconspicuous to the surprise. No offense to Choso, on the contrary, you think someone so attractive would have a line out the door.

He opens his eyes, indigo retinas flooding with light and you can tell by the slow blinks, the way his eyes are almost squinting that he’s tired. “Have you ever been to the small restaurant on Second street, a couple blocks down? They have a great breakfast.”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“We should go.” He pauses, awaiting a reaction, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile, Choso’s fatigue drifting to you.

He leans and hovers over you, clicking the lamp switch off and dragging his blankets over the two of you. Even with the light turned off, you can see the silhouette of his body, covered by the blankets, scooting closer to your warmth. You’re staring at the moon reflecting out the window, hearing Choso’s breathing slow, too tired to think a single thought.

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foone · 1 year

Text

on the one hand, rocketry is really hard and it takes a lot of experimentation to nail down a rocket design, this is why we launch so many rocket prototypes, and a good rocket design can stick around for decades because it's proven. like, the russians have launched 430 protons because it WORKS, and even that gold-standard rocket has blown up or failed to make orbit like 50 times. you really can't avoid just having to occasionally blow up a rocket because it turns out something went wrong and in a way you didn't expect, in a way you won't expect until you try to launch it and it goes wrong. That's why you have range officers, after all. They're in a room with a big red button labeled "EXPLODE THAT SHIT" and they slam it the instant the rocket goes wrong in any way, because otherwise you have a missile deciding to go somewhere you can't control, and it's way better to blow your rocket up in mid-air than to have a couple thousand pounds of fuel slam into an apartment block or school for orphaned puppies. rocketry is hard, and the starship is clearly undergoing a rapid development cycle where they're throwing tons of money at it to try and get it working FAST, by building and blowing up a bunch of rockets, rather than doing all the testing on the ground to save money. if they have the money to toss at it (and reportedly the US military is funding this project, and they have some fucking deep project) then it's an effective and fast way to build a rocket. NASA doesn't do that, because they can't. They don't have the money. They have to do cheaper testing methods because they can't afford to just throw millions of dollars away with every failed test.

but on the other hand, it is absolutely hilarious when elon musk's big rocket goes kaboom, because LOL.

#rocketry

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swampstew · 1 year

Note

Could I please request Enemies to Lovers with Shanks for the “Oh Captain, My Captain!”? :)

Hello! Thank you for your submission to my event! You did not explicitly indicate in your request whether you wanted this story to be nsfw or not so I left it open ended! You requested Enemies to Lovers with Shanks, and I give you [ HATE ]: “why are you really here? to mock me? to… make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.”

Oh Captain, My Captain Shanks

Warnings: None really, some sexual tension but nothing explicit, GN reader (no pronouns or anatomy used), Shanks being a little shit Word Count: 622 Minors Do Not Interact - you will be blocked.

You were in a shit mood. Recent string of bad luck weighed you down like an anchor, and it felt like a personal thundercloud was looming over you as you brooded in the bar. You must have looked intimidating because not one person approached you; only the bar tender who had been quietly refilling your glass.

You hadn’t asked for it by brand but when all you said was ‘Rum!’ and sat there in silence, he cautiously grabbed a middle-shelf label and kept it near you at all times. You weren’t drinking hard. Maybe had a cup or two, barely sipping the bitter liquid.

Your presence became hostile when a hand softly touched your shoulder. A grating, familiar voice called out to you.

“Whaddy’a want Red Hair?!” you spat venomously. A few minor but mostly healed scars from previous skirmishes with the man felt like they burned with his proximity. “Come to take another pound of flesh?”

Shanks’ normally playful expression was gone from his face. Instead he looked…worried. “Let’s have a drink.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, let’s have a drink. Call it a temporary truce or whatever,” he held his right hand up in surrender.

That was how you found yourself sitting in a corner booth next to the emergency exit with one of the Four Emperors. Your nemesis.

You didn’t have a personal grudge against Shanks like most until you ran into him. He was always too laissez faire for you to trust entirely and that cost you a few times – and no they were not your fault nor instigated by you. Mostly. You scowl at the memories.

“Cheers,” he tapped his mug to yours though you didn’t drink as he sipped his.

“Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me hate you more?”

Shanks frowned behind his mug, “No, that’s not it at all. You hate me?” He pushed his hand through his ruffled red hair, “I know we’ve had our spats but I thought…you liked that? Playing hard to get, you know the whole thing.”

You didn’t say anything, looking at him in bewilderment. He’d been…flirting with you before?

“Anyways,” Shanks shook his head and took large gulps of drink, “I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you could use one right now.”

Why did that make you tremble?

Make a tightness in your jaw loosen, your shoulders rolled back a little and it was almost like a blanket of anxiety or something else was being slowly pulled off you, letting you breathe fresh air for the first time in a while.

“So what’s up? What’s going on in Y/N-land that’s got you all glum like a plum?” he frowned at you, looking genuinely concerned.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

He laughed at that, “Why do people keep saying that?!”

Hours passed in an instant and you were drunk as a skunk, loosely hanging off Shanks’ shoulder as you laughed at the story he told. With his missing arm, you were pretty close to his scarred face and you never really appreciated how handsome he was. He noticed your staring but didn’t say anything, just smiled and continued with whatever didn’t make you hit or try and kill him.

Shanks wasn’t expecting your kiss but he was interested, returning your fiery passion. Your lips were locked in an embrace, pulling back panting lightly as you released years of apparently one-sided loathing.

“I knew you liked me, deep down,” Shanks grinned at you. Before you could retort, he planted another steamy kiss on your greedy lips. “I like you too. Been flirting with you for a while now. Benn said I wasn’t being direct enough but I thought he was full of shit.”

#akagami no shanks #shanks x you #shanks x reader #oh captain my captain mini event #swampstew bedtime stories #swampstew #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #one piece oneshots

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sniigura-archive · 2 months

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Adam x Reader x Mammon AU where Reader's a stripper, Mammon's the boss of the club she works at, and Adam's the head of the church near the club that's trying to get it shut down. Reader being this nobody who's able to get these two (2) powerful men to do just about whatever she wants cuz her pussy's Just That Good.

She's Mammon's favorite so she's the only one of the club's performers that he listens to when it comes to getting raises/paid breaks, complaints about harassment from customers, etc., so Reader uses his interest in her to look out for her coworkers;

R: Oh, I'm not sure if I can have sex rn, i'm just too upset about how Bernadette won't be able to visit her family this weekend cuz she has to work overtime :(

M: Fine I'll give her the weekend off are you gonna suck my dick now or what

Adam and his church trying to boycott the club and causing problems for business so Reader goes to "talk to him" and now the club no longer has to worry about the church anymore. When members of the church ask Adam why they stopped boycotting he's bullshits something like "God told me we should show mercy to sex workers, just as Jesus showed mercy to Mary Magdalene (a former prostitute)". What really happened was that Reader gave Adam some A+ snu snu and threatened to never let him have sex with her again unless his church stopped boycotting the club.

Mammon goes to visit Adam shortly after cuz he can't believe that Reader managed to convince him to leave the club alone (cuz she's "just a girl" after all). Reader expects the worst, but then the two end up becoming instant besties and make a deal to have their services coexist in peace. Mammon def takes credit for "saving" the club and Reader's just looking at him like "sure jan B/".

HAUQJJAWH ANON!!!!!!!!! I THINK YOU SHOULD BE WRITING FANFIC INSTEAD OF ME!!!

god the way i was like trying to figure out how to do adam x reader x mammon and here you are. dropping this into my inbox. i’m in love with you

like!!! imagine the neighbourhood is going through some crazy gentrification. everything is changing, it gets more expensive and conservative?? hello?? what happened to the shit hole you grew up in?

you’re basically mammons cash cow. you’re the star of the club. he’s always torn between „get out there and bring some goddamn cash in“ and „nobody else should get to look at you besides me“ it’s very annoying with him. to cope he has to bend you over his desk to calm his raging possessiveness

at least you use your power over mammon for good. the girls love you and you’re all basically sisters. one girl comes to him crying because some guy groped her and he’s like „well did you at least charge him extra for that 🤨“ but when you come to him because someone called you a whore the guy can never show his face again in mammons block

ADAM!!!i just imagine him and the church protesting in front of the club and you’re just done with them already. they’re scaring off customers, especially since they live stream the whole thing!!!! most of your visitors are married men ofc they don’t show their face as long as they’re out there 😭 and man they are persistent

mammon is also losing his mind because he’s losing money. he’s also too cheap and stubborn to change club location

all these petitions and the pressure the church puts on the major is just stressful. so you decide to go over there, to talk. and oh boy did you both talk!! through gasps and moans

adam immediately develops a complex where he wants to „“safe““ reader. turn her into his perfect little housewife who stays home with their brats and goes to church every sunday. very confused when reader is actually okay with her life

reader in this i think would be rather smart with her money. like she’s into the stock market and buys property and invests in businesses. mammon and adam not realising that reader is better off than both of them 😭

LMAOO mammon taking all the credit 😭😭

i can’t even begin to imagine their reaction when they realise you’re doing both of them behind their backs. well it’s not like you’re in a committed relationship with either of them (they just thought it was implied smh 🙄)

need to be pressed inbetween both their huge bodies

#ask #adam.thoughts #mammon.thoughts

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thirsty-lakedream · 2 years

Text

Third Roomate

I arrive after a long day of classes and this is the first thing I see when I walk into the apartment.

I’m not too surprised. It’s quite normal to see my roommate sitting on the couch and watching one of his shows. What I did not expect is how he looked.

“Hey, Matt…”

The guy glances over but says nothing, instead turning his attention back to the tv. Instead of his normal sci-fi shit he instead is watching a baseball match.

“Matt, yo I’m talking to you.” I try to block the screen with my body but he simply leans over, pointing the remote to the screen.

“In a sec man, I’m trying to watch the game.” I roll my eyes. I doubt he actually knows what’s going on about, just trying to play into his new look. “And stop calling me Matt, you know my name.”

I roll my eyes, “God you are obsessed. You know, when I agreed to buy ‘Gabriel’ with you I thought I’d at least get a turn every so often…”

“Oh come on.” The muscles blonde stood up, towering nearly a foot above me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d feel a bit intimidated. “I’m just having some fun with our new toy before you take him for the rest of the night!”

“Is this fun? Your sitting all alone pretending to be some dumb jock interested in sports. Tell me Gabe, did ‘Matt’ even go to class today?”

He shifted slightly trying to hide away, but with his big frame it was difficult to. “Not exactly… But don’t worry, l attended for him.”

“Dude! Are you serious?” Turning away from the guy, I barged into my roommate’s room, where I found him exactly where I thought I would. He stood in the center wearing a full-body haptic suit and VR headset strapped onto his head. He faced the wall, seemingly staring at nothing. The equipment was rigged to his PC, with the screen showing all sorts of familiar diagnostics and body mapping windows.

“You’ve seriously been using Gabriel all day? Even when you know I called using him tonight! Now his batteries are gonna be dead before I can even use him.” You grab him by the shoulder trying to shake him back to reality.

Matt didn’t turn to me but responded to my accusation “Relax bro. He’s been on the charger since he got home so you don’t have to worry! Look!” From behind me Gabriel walked up, standing attentively.

Both Matt and Gabriel spoke in at the same time in unison. “See? Look I’m Gabriel and I’m ready to go out with my frat bros all night!” Matt performed a mocking jig and Gabriel mimicked the exact movement. He then touched his finger to the temple of his virtual reality goggles and in an instant Gabriel halted all movement.

You see, Gabriel isn’t a real person, he never was actually. He’s what’s known as a techno-puppet. Like how in a video game you can use a controller to manipulate your avatar. It works the same way but instead you control this hyper realistic doll. It wasn’t hard to see why Matt took such a liking to living as him. We spent the last month building this entire life, even forging papers to make him an ‘official’ student in our college. We have people thinking he’s our third roomate, but in reality he’s just a toy for us to experience an exciting college life.

I waited for a moment as he took off the VR equipment and handed it to me. Hiding away into my own room, I excitedly put on the gear. Sitting myself down comfortably on my bed, felt around the headset until I found the power button. Pressing it, the technology in the haptic and goggles whittled to life. After a brief loading time, my vision awoke and I found myself once again standing in Matt’s room. My roomate grinned trying to hide his envy as I was now in control of Gabriel. Maybe ill give him a taste of his own medicine for hogging the beautiful body by taking him for the entire weekend. I know Matt is harboring a secret crush on our puppet so teasing him around the apartment can be a warmup to get into my new persona

#android #puppet #male puppet #male asfr #body possession #technology possession

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heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon · 6 months

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I can't believe there is a "Cursed Cat Alastor Controversy" and that once again I had to have the evil lepreconartist who lords over the fandom making his gold off of Medrano's despair explain to me in order to understand what the fuck is going in on the fandom, yet again ... But I kind of hate you all so here's my hot take...

It's actual petty bullshit.

It's the equivalent of a fanartist calling out an AMV maker for "art theft" and demanding that a video they worked hard on be taken down because they used a piece of fanart for a character in an AMV tribute to the character that both the fanartist and the AMV maker (who is already an artist in their own right) already do not actually fucking own. Like, regardless if the AMV maker gives the fanartist credit. Instead of being honored by it, when they should know better that neither of them ever actually even own the shit to begin with, yet they still demand "credit" for fanwork.

I once saw a popular Asian artist in the svtfoe fandom demanding a boycott of the popular fan run merch store TheMysteryShack just as the beautiful fan made artbook Tales of Rebel Princess was about to launch exclusively through there because she alleged that the shop owner had stolen one of her friends fanart designs on a goddamn fucking Steven Universe tarot card pack of all things but I still really liked her Star fanart, so when I tried to respectfully explain to her that I wouldn't be boycotting the shop because of Tales of Rebel Princes launching and how I thought it was personally in very poor taste to not just contact the shop owner privately about the matter and instead making a big stink in public about boycotting his shop when she knew that one of her other artist friends that we knew she had also collaborated with in the past was just about to debut another big collaborative art tribute book dedicated to Daron and Star vs. there through this guys shop! And essentially it would be sad to see her knowingly taking business away from her other friend like that and demanding others in her following do the same and over something as small as a deck of Steven Universe cards, especially in understanding how little love svtfoe gets, since she was also a well known svtfoe fanartist ... All I got in response was "Well I'm happy for my friend but I'm Korean and you're just a Filthy American who couldn't possibly understand how disrespectful something like this is in my culture and blah blah blah if you instant on further harassing me about this I'll block you!"

And I was basically like "suit yourself being fake and having a stick up your butt honey I'm still getting my Star vs. artbook!"

And then she blocked me.

Good riddance. As if Miss Heinous would honestly ever head bang to Ruberiot...

But I guess what I'm trying to get here is that like...Oh, I'm sorry? You wanna make fanart for western cartoons? You gotta play by western rules then. Like it's late night here and I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. But it's true.

If Aurelio Voltaire honestly deserves to have a deal be cut in my opinion so he can finally officially own his share of the "Vampair" series after Daria Cohen stole his voice to make it (half dry humor, half serious here, to be quite frank about this) then coma0423 deserves to cut a deal so that Amir Talai can have a bit of financial comprehension and his percentage of whatever kind of (I'm guessing financial) ~"credit'~ that Coma is now demanding from other fanartists who make Cursed Cat Alastor fan merch since Talai , after all, did design the original concept sketch that would become Cursed Cat Alastor that Coma saw and then decided to just runaway with when they made the meme ...

Listen to me... Fanart belongs to everyone and no one by nature of it being made by fans and no one can truly own a "fan concept" expect for the true creator of the thing that it's based on. Unless that thing is already in the public domain. And if it is it becomes Schrodinger's Cheshire Cat.

Schrodinger's Cursed Cat Alastor belongs to everyone and no one, babe. He belongs to The Hazbin Hotel Fandom and The Hazbin Hotel. If he actually becomes canon in the show somehow, then he'll belong to Amir and Viv, actually, maybe Coma will get proper credit then, but the concept won't even really be theirs anymore, just as it even isn't really officially theirs now, even if they officially do get hired.

First you're telling me that I'm not allowed to fuck the radio demon ... Now you're telling me that I'm apparently not even allowed to kiss a cute wittle kitty cat plushie of him between the space on his head between his ears if said plush wasn't crafted by or sold explicitly by the fanartist who again, stole the concept sketch of him from Amir Talai in the first place?

No. This is nonsense.

Stop making all these petty dramas off someone else's work that only feed the evil leprechaun more gold off of someone else's work or start making you're own original work from your own original concept that you can actually claim your own copyright to I'm exhausted.

Ever hear the phrase once something leaves your brain it belongs to everyone, not just you anymore?

This goes triple for anyone making fanart of someone else's work and that's a fact. Especially if it's only ever an extremely memed up version of an already canonically existing character that you were only so lucky went viral.

Stop the bullying. No one fanwork is that special. Just do your best to honor the source material and be flattered by other fanartists imitations of your fanartist imitation... It's the circle of cursed kitties and it feeds us all. *smacks paw down*

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hypocritical #Cursed Cat Alastor #Alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel cast #amir talai #fanart #fanwork #fandom fuckery #big name fan bullshit #It's getting late and I don't know what else to tag this as honestly...#Just accept that not everything is yours to start out with in fandom spaces and learn to let your little darlings go ...#Best advice I can come up with before bed ...#bnf bullshit

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harry-styles-obsessed · 1 year

Text

Comfort person

Requested?: yes

Synopsis: y/n is your average girl, just living her best life- one night she goes to a club just expecting to have fun and chill but that all gets twisted when a group of guys hound her and try to take her home with them, but one man who’s kept his eyes on her for the entire night won’t let that happen.

Trigger warnings: talk about drugs/ alcohol, douche-y guys, attempt of spiking a drink. If any of this makes you uncomfortable please read at your own discretion.

Harry x fem! Reader + famous! Harry

Trope: strangers to lovers

“Oh yeah you’re definitely dressed like that for a reason… wanna hook up,” the group of men around you were practically saying the same thing over and over again, your heart was beating out of your chest. You were full of anxiety. These men had been hounding you for a good 10 minutes and no one had said a thing, two blondes were sat either side of you and three guys were inches away from touching your back, keeping you blocked in practically. You felt sick to your stomach. “You’re actually so pretty…” one of them said with a little grin, “I’m Daniel and you are?” He held his hand out for you distracting you completely from your surroundings and you gulp harshly of course his name is Daniel you then slowly reach your hand out shaking his hand “nice to meet you…” you murmur unsure, “I’m y/n. Just here to chill. I don’t want to hook up” you state simply, a look of disappointment forming on Daniel’s face “shame” he spoke, and unbeknownst to you the other blonde on your other side had poured a white powder into your drink, his mates egging him on further but you didn’t really focus on that too focused on how uncomfortable they were making you feel.

However you also didn’t notice the curly haired man, sat down on a table just behind you, his green eyes full of concern as he had watched the whole entire thing. He was going to help a long time ago but he wasn’t entirely sure whether you were actually in trouble or whether they were your friends, but upon seeing the white substance float into your drink, and he knew in an instant that friends most definitely wouldn’t drug each other… Harry was quick to stand up as he moved to where you were sat his tattoos glimmering in the light as he got closer and closer to the bar before he tapped one of the brown haired guys on the shoulder making him move before Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gently pulled you up from your sitting position “sorry to disappoint, I’ve got to whisk this one away… she’s not feeling too well. An early night is in order for her.” He chuckled out as you looked up at your saviour his jawline sharp, eyes a beautiful green colour and face the exact beauty of an Angel. You recognised him well- he was Harry styles but right now wasn’t the time to fangirl about that…

“Aren’t you from that boyband? One direction.” One of them laughed out, “oh yeah you’re so right! The band that’s so gay. Try to convince everyone they’re straight but really they’re all fucking,” the man chastised clearly trying to get on Harry’s nerves “ha ha very funny. You all look like you give each other blowjobs in the bathroom… don’t you? Got no woman to help you out so you do what bros do, yeah? Is that why you drugged her drink? Yeah I saw that.” He said immediately shutting the rowdy group up as you looked up to him shocked… they had drugged your drink? Shit your heart sank into your stomach. That knowledge made you feel sick and vulnerable. Harry then picked up the glass that had been drugged before he threw the red liquid into Daniel’s face watching as he clutched his eyes fear seemingly being knocked into all of them at the same time, once a man stands up for a woman they all become weak. Huh. Funny. “Disgusting, all of you. Buck up your fucking ideas otherwise I will press charges… if I really wanted to I could get the cops to arrest your dumb asses right now but I like to think you’ll all change.” He said knowing they wouldn’t change, Harry didn’t like using his fame to his advantage but knowing these men were going to hurt you an innocent vulnerable woman made him feel sick. “C’mon” he soon murmured looking down at you as he lead you out of the club, hand remaining on the small of your back as he guided you outside to safety. Harry would’ve done so much more if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to comfort you, his breathing slightly unsteady with anger. What he had done wasn’t enough but was enough at the same time, his actions were completely justified. He found it incredibly disturbing and humiliating how no one else stepped in to help you… knowing this most likely happened to other people and people just sat and watched it. Allowing it to happen.

Soon you both stopped walking Harry turning to look at you “have you got a way home?” He asked studying you carefully, almost analysing you “I can call a taxi… don’t worry.” You assured immediately pulling your phone out of your pocket but he shook his head “no… I want to make sure you get home safely.” He said and you blinked confused… why did the Harry styles want to make sure you got home safely? So it was true? He was the kindest man to exist… “you don’t have to.” You said softly but he shook his head “I want to. I’m Harry by the way.” He held his hand out for you to shake, the rings that adorned his fingers were the first thing you noticed and you gently took his hand into your own giving his hand a light shake “pleasure to meet you Harry… my names y/n.” You said softly keeping eye contact with him as he didn’t let go of your hand giving a tight but gentle squeeze as he smiled “likewise, y/n.” He said calmly and kindly his eyes scanning over your features for a few moments “are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they? Here… let me take a look at you.” He murmured letting go of your hand just so he could rest his hands upon your shoulders, his green gentle eyes full of worry as he seemingly looked you over for any wounds or such: the way he said it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. A man you barely knew- personally- offered more care and kindness than any man you had known for years. “I’m okay I promise.” Your words were soft and gentle as he silently looked at you making sure you were okay and unharmed and once he had realised that you were unhurt and just fine a small tight lipped smile tugged at his lips as he nodded “just a bit shaken up. If they tried to touch me I would’ve you know… put up a fight.” You said honestly and Harry nodded starting to walk with you to his car and he opened the door for you, like the gentleman he was and once you got in you buckled your seatbelt before letting out a soft sigh… that was most definitely the last time you ever went to a club alone.

You soon told Harry you address and he began driving his large hands resting on the steering wheel, you felt nervous not because of who he was of course not but rather what had just happened and he seemingly noticed that his free hand immediately dropping just next to the gear stick his palm faces upwards his fingers spread as if welcoming you to hold his hand and you quickly did just that taking a hold of his hand in yours intertwining your fingers with his. You held his hand in your lap your free hand gently tracing over his tattoos. No words needed to be spoken to understand what you were feeling and how the simplicity of him allowing you to hold his hand comforted you enough to help sooth your nerves. As he slowed down at a red traffic light his head turned to look to you his eyes scanning over your worried expression his hand gently squeezing yours “you’re okay.” He said softly and you turned to look at him nodding your head as you smiled gently “I know… thank you… I just can’t help to think what would’ve happened if you didn’t step in.” You murmured softly and he stroked his thumb against your skin, not even realising the traffic light had turned to green “I’m sure your gut instinct would’ve gotten you out quick enough… I like to think someone else would’ve stepped in but… as you said… I’m sure you would’ve put up a good fight and scared them all off.” He said with a soft chuckle, the traffic light flicking back to red but he didn’t seem to notice or rather care all he cared about was you in this very moment. “Yeah… what I’ve learnt is if you act just as crazy as them they become terrified… one guy barked at me so I barked at him and ran after him, he ran so fast he ran into a pole.” You said the funny story making Harry throw his head back as he laughed a curl of his hair gently resting against his forehead another curl doing the exact same thing creating a little heart shape on his forehead “you barked at him? That’s top notch… hilarious. Good for you” he said grinning at you as he gave your hand a squeeze before he finally began to drive again but he didn’t dare let go of your hand keeping your hand in his… he quite liked holding your hand. It was nice.

As he pulled up outside of your apartment you let out a soft sigh “you live alone?” He asked softly and you nodded your head, you weren’t looking forward to stepping into the empty apartment by yourself… you were slightly paranoid. Of course it would pass but still it was unnerving and Harry seemed to sense that “here I’ll walk you in” he said and you shot a grateful look his way as you got out of the car waiting for him and once he was by your side he rested his hand on the small of your back as he began walking with you towards your front door, his fingertips lightly rubbing against your back in a comforting manner and once the door was open you held your breath “I’ll go first” he comforted without even questioning or asking you why you were so worried or even beginning to humiliate you like most men would… most men wouldn’t understand it and would tell you to just move on with your life but you couldn’t… even if they weren’t there you were still scared. You followed after him flicking on the lights and once in the living room you sat down your heart racing, Harry without even saying anything doing a quick sweep around the house- checking in wardrobes, under your bed, everywhere… just to sooth your anxieties. He was truly boyfriend material.

You were quick to put on some tv, some happy tv and once Harry returned he stood just in front of you, his eyes searching yours silently “is it okay if I stay? Even if it’s just till you fall asleep?” He asked not wanting to leave you alone not for tonight at least, you were clearly scared and traumatised. “Yes of course” you quickly obliged nodding your head and a small smile formed on his face before he sat just beside you the both of you watching the tv silently and soon enough his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you into him your head lightly resting on his shoulder and he just held you wanting to make sure you knew you were safe. No words were said once again, it was simply silence knowing you were safe with him and soon your fingers began creeping towards his, your index finger hooking with his thumb, his fingers doing the same as he held your hand lightly your head slowly lifting to look him in the eyes the realisation in both of your eyes proving both of your thoughts and he without even saying anything cupped your cheek with his free hand pulling you in close to him as he kissed you gently but deeply, his other hand keeping a hold of yours before you pulled yourself onto his lap wanting to be close to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the both of you kissing… making out for a good long while the kiss passionate but loving. Not too fast but not too slow either. Just right. The way he placed his hands… his hand placement… gods it drove the butterflies in your tummy wild and soon Harry pulled away, just enough so his forehead could rest against yours “I’m sorry if I got into that too fast but… gods… couldn’t help myself.” He murmured but you shook your head smiling “I loved it” you whispered before pulling him close again as you kissed him once more deeply but gently, he made you feel safe and secure… you didn’t want to leave his side… maybe this journey of strangers to lovers wouldn’t end up so bad… maybe just maybe you had found your comfort person.

#x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #yn #comfort #imagines #stories #protective Harry #protective #harry styles x you #harry styles comfort #x reader x harry styles #happy ending #tw triggers

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ca-suffit · 3 months

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I heard that lestat abused nicki too in the book is that true if so do you think they're gonna show it in s3? i hope they do only so the fandom finally shut up about louis lying about the abuse. And it'll be interesting to see the fandom's reaction to lestat after that.

I'm v 👀 waiting to see how Nickistat is gonna be treated in the fandom when it's two white men.

I'll answer this under the cut in case ppl don't want spoilers.

Nickistat is a p dark relationship so I expect them to show everything and I'll be disappointed if they don't. Lestat always has a history of being abusive, in human and vampire terms, but a lot of ppl find a way to excuse it. Or pretend they acknowledge it while still overlooking it bcuz they never rly talk about it in a way that says they *really do* accept it in his character.

I expect the fandom to be a lot softer on both of them bcuz they're both white. Even tho Nicki p aggressively fucking hates Lestat, not only at the end, but during the "good" parts of their relationship too. He wants them to destroy themselves.

Idk how to get into the rest of this without a summary of at least the Nickistat stuff in TVL so...

Gabrielle (Lestat's mom) helps get Nicki and Lestat to Paris so they can both get away from their shitty lives. Lestat becomes successful as an actor and Nicki plays the violin for the performances. Everything is going p well but Nicki starts to break apart as time goes bcuz he didn't actually want them to succeed. He gets annoyed at Lestat's eternal optimism and friction starts to grow between them. This worsens when Lestat is kidnapped by Magnus. Nicki doesn't know what's happened to him at all. Lestat avoids making contact to tell Nicki anything, sending him money and gifts otherwise instead, as he tries to cope with the trauma of it and how to explain anything at all. This is the time period when Gabrielle becomes a vampire too, to save her from dying of an illness. This is the first vampire Lestat ever creates. Then Armand kidnaps Nicki (long story there, but Armand and Lestat get into it over the coven shit by this point too) and reveals everything vampiric to him and it all unravels more and more. Lestat eventually does make Nicki a vampire too but it causes the darkness to grow in him and it scares Lestat a lot, so they end badly. Lestat leaves Paris, and Nicki stays at the theatre (which the vampires now own, thanks to Lestat thru Magnus' money) with Armand. Armand does all kinds of shit with him to try and control him, including cutting his hands off at a point, but Nicki keeps getting worse. Eventually he kills himself by jumping into a fire. Lestat learns about this in a letter he receives in Cairo from one of the actresses along with a package that holds Nicki's violin.

So the abuse part with Lestat comes during one of the last times they ever see each other. Here it is from TVL

"I want the theater," Nicolas said to me. "I want it from you. The deed, the money to reopen it. My assistants here are ready to listen to me." "You may have it, if you wish," I answered. "It is yours if it will take you and your malice and your fractured reason off my hands." I got up off the dressing table and went towards him and I think that he meant to block my path, but something unaccountable happened. When I saw he wouldn't move, my anger rose up and out of me like an invisible fist. And I saw him moved backwards as if the fist had struck him. And he hit the wail with sudden force. I could have been free of the place in an instant. I knew Gabrielle was only waiting to follow me. But I didn't leave. I stopped and looked back at him, and he was still against the wall as if he couldn't move. And he was watching me and the hatred was as pure, as undiluted by remembered love, as it had been all along. But I wanted to understand, I wanted really to know what had happened. And I came towards him again in silence and this time it was I who was menacing, and my hands looked like claws and I could feel his fear. They were all, except for Eleni, full of fear. I stopped when I was very close to him and he looked directly at me, and it was as if he knew exactly what I was asking him. "All a misunderstanding, my love," he said. Acid on the tongue. The blood sweat had broken out again, and his eyes glistened as if they were wet. "It was to hurt others, don't you see, the violin playing, to anger them, to secure for me an island where they could not rule. They would watch my ruin, unable to do anything about it." I didn't answer. I wanted him to go on. "And when we decided to go to Paris, I thought we would starve in Paris, that we would go down and down and down. It was what I wanted, rather than what they wanted, that I, the favored son, should rise for them. I thought we would go down! We were supposed to go down." "Oh, Nicki…" I whispered. "But you didn't go down, Lestat, " he said, his eyebrows rising. "The hunger, the cold-none of it stopped you. You were a triumph!" The rage thickened his voice again. "You didn't drink yourself to death in the gutter. You turned everything upside down! And for every aspect of our proposed damnation you found exuberance, and there was no end to your enthusiasm and the passion coming out of you-and the light, always the light. And in exact proportion to the light coming out of you, there was the darkness in me! Every exuberance piercing me and creating its exact proportion of darkness and despair! And then, the magic, when you got the magic, irony of ironies, you protected me from it! And what did you do with it but use your Satanic powers to simulate the actions of a good man!" I turned around. I saw them scattered in the shadows, and farthest away, the figure of Gabrielle. I saw the light on her hand as she raised it, beckoning for me to come away. Nicki reached up and touched my shoulders. I could feel the hatred coming through his touch. Loathsome to be touched in hate. "Like a mindless beam of sunlight you routed the bats of the old coven!" he whispered. "And for what purpose? What does it mean, the murdering monster who is filled with light!"

I turned and smacked him and sent him hurtling into the dressing room, his right hand smashing the mirror, his head cracking against the far wall. For one moment he lay like something broken against the mass of old clothing, and then his eyes gathered their determination again, and his face softened into a slow smile. He righted himself and slowly, as an indignant mortal might, he smoothed his coat and his rumpled hair. It was like my gestures under les Innocents when my captors had sent me down in the dirt. And he came forward with the same dignity, and the smile was as ugly as any I had ever seen. "I despise you," he said. "But I am done with you. I have the power from you and I know how to use it, which you do not. I am in a realm at last where I choose to triumph! In darkness, we're equal now. And you will give me the theater, that because you owe it to me, and you are a giver of things, aren't you-a giver of gold coins to hungry children-and then I won't ever look upon your light again." He stepped around me and stretched out his arms to the others: "Come, my beauties, come, we have plays to write, business to attend to. You have things to learn from me. I know what mortals really are. We must get down to the serious invention of our dark and splendid art. We will make a coven to rival all covens. We will do what has never been done." The others looked at me, frightened, hesitant. And in this still and tense moment I heard myself take a deep breath. My vision broadened. I saw the wings around us again, the high rafters, the walls of scenery transecting the darkness, and beyond, the little blaze along the foot of the dusty stage. I saw the house veiled in shadow and knew in one limitless recollection all that had happened here. And I saw a nightmare hatch another nightmare, and I saw a story come to an end.

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